in all cases that we recognise as the most important, is applicable and strengthening, lies at the fountain of the moral as well as the literary edifice of my life, and is to be regarded as a well-invested and richly productive capital; although in particular cases we may be seduced into making an erroneous application. By this notion, the Bible first became really accessible to me. I had, as is the case in the religious instruction of Protestants, run through it several times,—nay, had made myself acquainted with it, by way of leaps from beginning to end and back again. The blunt naturalness of the Old Testament, and the tender naïveté of the New, had attracted me in particular instances: as a whole, indeed, it never properly appealed to me; but now the diverse characters of the different books no more perplexed me; I knew how to represent to myself their significance faithfully and in proper order, and had too much feeling for the book to be ever able to do without it. By this very side of feeling I was protected against all scoffing, because I saw its dishonesty at once. I not only detested it, but could even fall in a rage about it; and I still perfectly remember, that, in my childishly fanatical zeal, I should have completely throttled Voltaire, on account of his "Saul," if I could only have got at him. On the other hand, every kind of honest investigation pleased me greatly: the revelations as to the locality, and costume of the East, which diffused more and more light, I received with joy, and continued to exercise all my acuteness on such valuable traditions.
It is known, that, at an earlier period, I tried to initiate myself into the situation of the world, as described to us by the first book of Moses. As I now thought to proceed stepwise, and in proper order, I seized, after a long interruption, on the second book. But what a difference! Just as the fulness of childhood had vanished from my life, so did I find the
