The Cologne choir sing here from the 7th to the 21st of June. Eighty voices. It will be a great treat. Arrange so as to hear something of it. Carl is Secretary of Legation and Chargé d’Affaires at Turin. George tills the ground, but not yet his own; but that will come some day, like the kingdom of heaven. Henry is preparing to collate the “Codex Claromontanus,” and has already worked well on the imperfect text. Ernst arranges his garden and house, and has made a bowling-green for me. I am now translating my Hippolytus into historical language, in what I call a second edition. Write soon, as to how it is arranged about your professorship. [29.] CARLTON TERRACE, _Derby Day_. I received your letter here yesterday, from St. Leonard’s, and wrote at once to Pusey. I think it will all go right. In your place, I would go at once to Pusey, after announcing myself the previous day. Tell me why cannot you help that good A. to the £250 for the best treatise on the Sankhya philosophy? I believe he has the right stuff in him for opposing Pantheism, which is what is desired. Now for a request. I am writing the second of my five works, which have been called into existence by Hippolytus. Sketches on the Philosophy of the History of Mankind:— A. On the Philosophy of Language. B. On the Philosophy of Religion. A. is a reproduction and improved arrangement of the lecture in Oxford, which now lies buried in the “Transactions.” In working over the historical part, I have put aside a chapter, “The Primitive Languages in India;” but find out, just as I intended to make you the _heros eponymus_, that you only dealt in your lecture with Bengali, the Sanskrit affinity of which requires to be demonstrated only to such wrong-headed men as the Buddhists are. Could you not write a little article on this for my book? The original language in India _must_ have been Turanian, not Semitic; but we are bound in honor to prove it. _Monday, May 30._—My letter has been left unsent. I have just received yours. Let me repeat what I wrote and underlined on the first page. It is a great trial of patience, but _be_ patient, that is, wise. One must never allow the toilsome labor of years of quiet reflection and of utmost exertion for the attainment of one’s aim to be destroyed by an unpropitious event. It is most probable, and also the best for you, that the affair should not now be hurried through. Your claims are stronger every quarter, and will certainly become more so in the eyes of the English through good temper and patience under trying circumstances. I don’t _for a moment doubt_ that you will be elected. Germany would suit you now as little as it would me; and we both should not suit Germany. _Spartam quam nactus es orna_, your good genius cries to you. So patience, my dear friend, and _with a good will_.