‘What I have seen since my last letter ends, has been more interesting than anything else except Rome. We stopped about at many places in the central part of France, to see out-of-the-way things connected with Becket’s history, and found some of them so very curious and striking in themselves, that they would have amply repaid us by their own merits. But what I was most interested with was, that the French seem to me to have been so grossly belied as a nation. I never saw a people that tempted me to like them so much, on a superficial observation. I declare, if I was called upon to make a definition of their national character, I should say they were a primitive innocent people. The fact seems to be that France is governed by a small despotic oligarchy, the aristocracy of wealth, who by their agitating spirit have contrived to get the franchise so restricted as to secure to themselves a majority in the Chamber, and the command of the military, by which they keep France under such a strong hand…. There is now in France a High Church party who are Republicans,[133] and wish for universal suffrage, on the ground that in proportion as the franchise falls lower the influence of the Church makes itself more felt; at present its limits about coincide with those of the infidel faction. Don’t be surprised if one of these days you find us turning Radicals on similar grounds.’ The next communication posted to Mr. Keble, on June 26, contained a nameless poem. The title and the motto here given belong to the version in _Lyra Apostolica_. ‘TREMBLING HOPE. “And the Spirit and the Bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.” ‘O Lord, I hear: but can it be The gracious word was meant for me? O Lord, I thirst: but who shall tell The secret of that Living Well By whose waters I may rest, And slake this lip unblest? O Lord, I will, but cannot do! My heart is hard, my faith untrue. The Spirit and the Bride say, Come; The eternal ever-blessed Home Oped its portals at my birth; But I am chained to earth. The Golden Keys,[134] each eve and morn, I see them with a heart forlorn: Lest they should iron prove to me. O set my heart at liberty! May I seize what Thou dost give, Seize tremblingly; and live.’