“You know, also, that he was a devout as well as thoughtful Christian. I do not note this in the triumphant spirit of a controversialist. I will not for a moment assume that there is any natural opposition between scientific genius and simple Christian faith. I will not compare him with others who have had the genius without the faith. Christianity, though she thankfully welcomes and deeply prizes them, does not need now, any more than when St. Paul first preached the Cross at Corinth, the speculations of the subtle or the wisdom of the wise. If I wished to show men, especially young men, the living force of the Gospel, I would take them not so much to a learned and devout Christian man to whom all stores of knowledge were familiar, but to some country village where for fifty years there had been devout traditions and devout practice. There they would see the Gospel lived out; truths, which other men spoke of, seen and known; a spirit not of this world, visibly, hourly present; citizenship in heaven daily assumed and daily realised. Such characters I believe to be the most convincing preachers to those who ask whether Revelation is a fable and God an unknowable. Yes, in most cases--not, I admit, in all--simple faith, even peradventure more than devout genius, is mighty for removing doubts and implanting fresh conviction. But having said this, we may well give thanks to God that our friend was what he was, a firm Christian believer, and that his powerful mind, after ranging at will through the illimitable spaces of Creation and almost handling what he called ‘the foundation-stones of the material universe,’ found its true rest and happiness in the love and the mercy of Him whom the humblest Christian calls his Father. Of such a man it may be truly said that he had his citizenship in heaven, and that he looked for, as a Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, through whom the unnumbered worlds were made, and in the likeness of whose image our new and spiritual body will be fashioned.” The Tripos came in January, 1854. “You will need to get muffetees for the Senate Room. Take your plaid or rug to wrap round your feet and legs,” was his father’s advice--advice which will appeal to many who can remember the Senate House as it felt on a cold January morning. Maxwell had been preparing carefully for this examination. Thus to his aunt, Miss Cay, in June, 1853, he writes:--“If anyone asks how I am getting on in mathematics, say that I am busy arranging everything so as to be able to express all distinctly, so that examiner may be satisfied now and pupils edified hereafter. It is pleasant work and very strengthening, but not nearly finished.”