i CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH n 



and real ; his solidity of judgment was as great as his quick- 

 ness of sympathy. Like all first-class persons I have known, 

 his patience with those inferior to himself, patience entirely 

 clear of painful condescension, was great and genuine. Every- 

 one was seen to the best possible advantage when beside him. 

 He could listen and encourage, as well as talk with a natural 

 and flowing brilliancy I have rarely heard equalled, not three 

 times in my life excelled. 



Though so rich in every gift which attracts and retains 

 admiration, he was as unhackneyed and as simple in his 

 manners as the veriest schoolboy who rattles away out of the 

 fulness of his high spirits without an idea of producing 

 effect. 



In the hour of trouble he was as tender and patient in 

 sympathy as a woman, with such instant justice and strength 

 of decision as belongs to a truthful, acute, and strong man. 

 It was impossible to be afraid or affected in his company. 

 He was one of those whose early departure (whereas so many 

 false and evil people are left to cumber and poison the earth) 

 tempts those left behind to rebellious thoughts and question- 

 ings only to be silenced by the solemn words, " What I do 

 thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter." It 

 has been my duty to lay leaves on many tombstones, and in 

 writing of the deceased to disregard the adage, " De mortuis, 

 &c.," but of none have I been able to speak in higher and more 

 unqualified terms of admiration than of Henry Roscoe. 



We had lived in a fairly large house in Gateacre, near 

 Liverpool. After my father's death my mother with her 

 two children was left with very straitened means. Being 

 a skilful artist, she at once sought to add to her income 

 by teaching painting to the girls at the school of her 

 cousins in Rodney Street, Liverpool. I have in my 

 possession a painting of hers, a copy of Copley Field- 

 ing's "View of Snowdon," now hanging in my study 

 at Woodcote, which exhibits her artistic power. She 

 also possessed considerable literary gifts, as shown in 

 her Life of Vittoria Colonna (Macmillan and Co., 1868), 

 containing admirable translations of the sonnets of 

 that remarkable woman. 



As for my own natural capabilities, I have always 



