These Letters, which are translated now for the first time into our tongue, were never intended for the public eye, having been addressed by Huss to his disciples and friends, to be perused far from the view of his enemies, and under the shade of the domestic roof. They furnish most precious documents to history, and are unquestionable testimonies of the spirit and character of their author. Though they are not remarkable either for profundity of thought, or for style and singularity of doctrine, there, nevertheless, exhales an innocent candour and an angelic piety, like a fragrant perfume, from every page. What especially pervades them, are the Christian thoughts on the fall of man, and his regeneration through Jesus Christ;--the conviction that all the things of this world pass away, and are but the shadows of things eternal;--that man is nothing without God;--that there is nothing but darkness or false lights wherever the divine flame does not penetrate;--and, lastly, above all these thoughts, subsists that which embraces all the rest--that “+Faith is life+.” We behold in his correspondence, a soul superior to seduction as well as to terror; a firm and upright reason which penetrates every subtilty;[2] originates in the conscience alone; clings tenaciously to what appears to it to be the truth as to man’s most precious possession, as to the treasure which has nothing to fear, neither from rust nor robber. (Matt. vi. 20.) Huss was one of those spirits, more contemplative than practical, which, after having recognised an idea as true, admit of no medium or arrangement in propagating it, and concern themselves for the consequences not more for others than for themselves. The inflexibility of his character equalled his probity of feeling; and it may be affirmed that, in all respects, both by the heart and the intelligence, Huss was of the number of those who appear in the world as if predestined to martyrdom. Yet he sought not after it like a passionate sectarian or a blind enthusiast; he was as far from possessing that pride which complacently feeds itself on its own conceptions, as from that sullen fanaticism which causes a man voluntarily to shorten his life by useless rashness, through dint of persuading himself that death is desirable. Before entering into a contest with his superiors, John Huss hesitated, consulted, and examined. Visited with ecclesiastical censures at Prague, he knew not whether he should obey and be silent, or continue to preach the Gospel. “I burn,” says he, “with an ardent zeal for the Gospel, and my soul is sad; for I know not what to resolve on.”[3] At a later period at Constance, when condemned and ready to die, he wrote, “I exhort you, in the name of the Lord, to detest every error that you may discover in my works; but keeping in mind this truth which I have ever had in view, pray for me.”[4] He faithfully depicts his feelings in a letter which he addressed at the same period to the