During  his  stay  at  Heidelberg  he  plunged  deeply  into  German  metaphysics
and  theology.  So  the  holiday  which  should  have  been  given  to  health  was
given  to  the  solution  of  those  hard  problems,  by  the  consideration  of  which
'ais  health  had  been  undermined.  It  is  no  wonder  that,  laboring  thus  night
and  day,  he  returned  to  Cheltenham  less  physically  improved  than  his  friends
had  hoped  for,  though  calmer  and  more  composed  in  mind.  His  soul  had
been  stirred  to  its  very  depths,  and  had  riot  yet  had  time  to  settle.  The
wine  did  not  yet  run  clearly.  He  did  not  seek  for  sympathy.  He  was  ac
customed,  as  he  said,  to  consume  his  own  smoke.  But  he  could  not  do  this
so  entirely  that  his  friends  could  not  guess  what  was  going  on  within.  One
of  these,  I  recollect,  who  was  with  him  at  the  English  Lakes,  said  to  him  one
day  with  some  sharpness,  pointing  to  the  summit  of  Skiddaw,  which  was  un-
>;een  the  while  for  mist,  "  I  would  not  have  my  head,  like  the  peak  of  that
mountain,  involved,  as  we  see  it  now,  in  cloud,  for  all  that  you  could  offer
me."  "I  would, "  rejoined  Robertson,  quickly,  "for,  by-and-by,  the  cloud
and  mist  will  roll  away,  and  the  sun  will  come  down  upon  it  in  all  his
glory."

He  started  for  the  Continent  in  September,  1846.
The  interesting  letters  which  follow  reveal  clearly  his  state
of  mind.  They  are  very,  even  passionately,  morbid  in  their
view  of  life ;  but  morbid  thoughts  necessarily  accompany  a
struggle  for  spiritual  existence.  He  was  emerging  from  this
gloom  into  clearer  light  when  he  arrived  at  Heidelberg.
