sy canon at Chester, the powerful preacher in
Westminster Abbey. One thought of him by the Berkshire chalk-streams
and on the Devonshire coast, watching the beauty and wisdom of
Nature, reading her solemn lessons, chuckling too over her inimitable
fun. One saw him in town-alleys, preaching the Gospel of godliness
and cleanliness, while smoking his pipe with soldiers and navvies.
One heard him in drawing-rooms, listened to with patient silence,
till one of his vigorous or quaint speeches bounded forth, never to
be forgotten. How children delighted in him! How young, wild men
believed in him, and obeyed him too! How women were captivated by
his chivalry, older men by his genuine humility and sympathy!
All that was now passing away--was gone. But as one looked on him
for the last time on earth, one felt that greater than the curate,
the poet, the professor, the canon, had been the man himself, with
his warm heart, his honest purposes, his trust in his friends, his
readiness to spend himself, his chivalr