170 1fcin08 of tbe "IRofc, Iftifle, anfc (Bun 



to Kendal, he gave his coat to the driver, set off on foot, 

 reached Kendal some time before the coach, and then 

 trudged on to Elleray.' " 



But Wilson's triumphs in " the schools " were not 

 less remarkable than his athletic feats. The brilliancy 

 he displayed in his final examination was long remem- 

 bered among Oxford dons. He was a poet, too, and 

 a talker of rare charm an Admirable Crichton indeed, 

 as much at home among wits and scholars over the port 

 in the Common-room as among coachmen, guards, and 

 bruisers over the " early purl " in the tavern. 



To most men he seemed the very impersonation of 

 joyous life, and yet there was another and a very different 

 side to his character known only to a few intimates, and 

 that side was as gloomy as the other was radiant. He 

 had formed an attachment for a mysterious " Margaret," 

 who was equally attached to him ; but in deference to 

 the prejudices of his mother he would not marry her, 

 and consequently both of them were miserable. He 

 was continually passing from transports of ardent hope 

 to moods of deep despair, which he sought to drown 

 in reckless dissipation. At one time he seriously thought 

 of joining Mungo Park, the then celebrated African 

 explorer, in his last expedition to the Niger which 

 ended so tragically. That idea, however, he abandoned ; 

 but it is strange to find the idolised hero of Oxford, the 

 jovial, rollicking, reckless, brilliant John Wilson, writing 

 thus to his intimate friend Findlay : " I feel that I 

 am doomed to be eternally wretched. ... I will be 

 glad to see you, but the word happy will never again 

 be joined to the name of John Wilson." One is 



