and emancipated by one, than he. It may have been that he had passed
the age of youthful buoyancy, of appetite for novelties; that he had
begun to lack initiative. "I have seen many specimens of mankind," he
wrote down, in a mood of depression, in one of his note-books, "but
come to the conclusion that there is little variety among them all."
That was scarcely a full thought, and he would never have let it pass
in one of his considered books. He made and published many other
remarks on similar subjects of quite an opposite tenor, and these more
truly represented his true feeling. But he did flag a little, once in
a while, and the deep and abiding love of England which was his final
sentiment had somewhat the appearance of having been forced upon him
against his inclination. We may surmise that he feared disappointment
more than he craved gratification.

[IMAGE: FRANCIS BANNOCH]

From Liverpool we explored the strangeness of the land in all
directions. Bennoch or Bright sometimes took off my father alone;
sometimes my father and mother would go with me, leaving my sisters at
home with the governess. Once in a while we all went together, as, for
example, to the Isle of Man or to Rhyl. So far as practicable, we
children were made acquainted with the literature of places we were to
visit before going there. Thus, before journeying to the Lakes and
Scotland, I had by heart a good deal of Wordsworth, Southey, Burns,
and Walter Scott, and was able, standing amid the lovely uproar of
Lodore, to shout out the story of how the water comes down there; and,
again, on the shores of Loch Katrine, at sunset, after spending a long
hour on the little white beach opposite Ellen's Isle, I ran along the
road in advance of my parents, and, climbing a cliff, saw the breadth
of the lake below me, golden under the sunset clouds, and very aptly