v i LORD LILFORD 



to know was a lifelong possession. The impres- 

 sion produced by character is, after all, more 

 permanent than that produced by capacity. 

 It passes into other lives, and is fruitful as an 

 influence long after the results of capacity have 

 perished in the using. It is the subtle yet 

 abiding power of character, as shown in Lord 

 Lilford, that I would try very imperfectly to 

 explain. 



When first I met him we were entire 

 strangers, and I did not even know the conditions 

 within which his life was lived. I found a man 

 confined to a bath-chair, a man with a massive 

 head, of great distinction, full of intelligence, 

 bearing traces of that fastidiousness which goes 

 with culture, but chiefly attractive by gentle- 

 ness and a singular expression of kindliness. A 

 very little conversation showed me that I was in 

 the presence of a man of remarkable intellectual 

 power, and we were soon talking with a freedom 

 and a range of subjects which to me was quite 

 unexpected. I soon found that everything I 



