coevals (and it may well be so), I do full justice, in thought at least,
to some brilliant exceptions. I founded friendships there which, I
trust, will outlive me.

I do not forget Warrenne, too good for the men he lived with, a David in
our camp of Kedar--always going on straight in the path he thought
right--though ever and anon his hot Irish blood would chafe fiercely
under the curb self-imposed--and laboring incessantly, with all
gentleness, to induce others to follow; a Launcelot in his devotion to
womankind; a Galahad in purity of thought and purpose. I have never
known a man of the world so single-hearted, or a saint with so much
_savoir vivre_.

I see before me now Lovell, with his frank look and cheery laugh, the
model of a stalwart English squirehood; and Petre, equal to either
fortune; in reverse or success calm and impassible as Athos the
mousquetaire; regarding money simply as a circulating medium, with the
profoundest contempt for its actual value--_se ruinant en prince_. He
edified us greatly, on one occasion, by meeting his justly offended
father with a stern politeness, declining to hold any communication with
him by word or letter till he (the sire) "could express himself in a
more Christian spirit."

Then there was Barlowe, the pearl of gentlemen riders, the very apple of
Charles Symond's eye; unspoiled by a hundred triumphs, and never
degenerating into the professional, though I believe his idea of earthly
felicity was,

A match for £50, 10 st. 7 lb. each. Owners up. Over 4 miles of a fair
hunting country.