thus
ended, and of the patience with which long-continued bodily pain had
been borne. It was clear that the popular author was first of all a
parish priest.

We now went into his study, where he lighted a long pipe, and we then
returned to a part of the lawn which he called his quarter-deck, and
where we walked up and down for near an hour. What an English summer
evening it was!--dewy and still. Now and then a slight breeze stirred
in the leaves and brought with it wafts of delicate odors from the
flowers somewhere hidden in the deep shadows, though as yet it was not
night and the sweet twilight lay about us like a charm. He asked if
I knew Maurice. I did slightly--had breakfasted with him six weeks
before, and had seen enough of him to understand the strong personal
influence he exerted. "I owe all that I am to Maurice," said Kingsley,
"I aim only to teach to others what I get from him. Whatever facility
of expression I have is God's gift, but the views I endeavor to
enforce are those which I learn from Maurice. I live to interpret him
to the people of England."

A talk about the influence of the Oxford writers came next: on
this subject I knew we should not agree, though of course it was
interesting to me to hear Mr. Kingsley's opinion. He spoke with some
asperity of one or two of the leaders, though his chief objection was
to certain young men who had put themselves forward as champions of
the movement. Of Mr. Keble he spoke very kindly. He said he had at
one time been much under the influence of these writings. I mentioned
Alexander Knox as being perhaps the forerunner of the Oxford men.
"Ah," he said, "I owe my knowledge of that good man to Mrs. Kingsley:
you must talk with her about him." We joined the party in the
drawing-room, and there was some further conversation on this subject.

At about ten o'clock the bell was rung, the servants came in,
prayers were said, and the ladies (Mrs. Kingsley and their daughter's
governess) bid us good-night. Then to Mr. Kingsley's study, where
the rest of the evening was spent--from half-past ten to half-past
twelve--the pipe went on, and the talk--a continuous flow. Quakerism
was a subject. George Fox, Kingsley said, was his admiration: he read
his _Journal_ constantly--thought him one of the most remarkable men
that age produced. He liked his hostility to Calvinism. "How little
that fellow Macaulay," he said, "could understand Quakerism! A man
needs to have been in Infer