cxxxiv MEMOIR 



of poor humanity, my fault and liis. I had been led to dabble 

 in society journalism ; and this coming to his ears, he felt it like 

 a disgrace upon himself. So far he was exactly in the right ; 

 but he was scarce happily inspired when he broached the subject 

 at his own table and before guests who were strangers to me. 

 It was the sort of error he was always ready to repent, but 

 always certain to repeat ; and on this occasion he spoke so freely 

 that I soon made an excuse and left the house with the firm 

 purpose of returning no more. About a month later, I met him 

 at dinner at a common friend's. ' Now,' said he, on the stairs, 

 c I engage you like a lady to dance for the end of the evening. 

 You have no right to quarrel with me and not give me a chance/ 

 I have often said and thought that Fleeming had no tact ; he 

 belied the opinion then. I remember perfectly how, so soon as 

 we could get together, he began his attack : t You may have 

 grounds of quarrel with me ; you have none against Mrs. Jenkin ; 

 and before I say another word, I want you to promise you will 

 come to her house as usual.' An interview thus begun could 

 have but one ending : if the quarrel were the fault of both, the 

 merit of the reconciliation was entirely Fleeming's. 



3is late When our intimacy first began, coldly enough, accidentally 



of mind, enough on his part, he had still something of the Puritan, some- 

 thing of the inhuman narrowness of the good youth. It fell 

 from him slowly, year by year, as he continued to ripen, and 

 grow milder, and understand more generously the mingled cha- 

 racters of men. In the early days he once read me a bitter 

 lecture ; and I remember leaving his house in a fine spring 

 afternoon, with the physical darkness of despair upon my eye- 

 sight. Long after he ma.de me a formal retractation of the 

 sermon and a formal apology for the pain he had inflicted ; add- 

 ing drolly, but truly, ' You see, at that time I was so much 

 younger than you ! ' And yet even in those days there was 

 much to learn from him ; and above all his fine spirit of piety, 

 bravely and trustfully accepting life, and his singular delight in 

 the heroic. 



His piety was, indeed, a thing of chief importance. His views 

 (as they are called) upon religious matters varied much ; and he 



