he was as loyal as if his hand held the field-marshal's truncheon, and
the garter bound his knee. He was above all querulous discontent. From
him, no less than from his parents, Percival caught, not only a spirit of
honour worthy the antiqua fides of the poets, but that peculiar
cleanliness of thought, if the expression may be used, which belongs to
the ideal of youthful chivalry. In mere booklearning, Percival, as may
be supposed, was not very extensively read; but his mind, if not largely
stored, had a certain unity of culture, which gave it stability and
individualized its operations. Travels, voyages, narratives of heroic
adventure, biographies of great men, had made the favourite pasture of
his enthusiasm. To this was added the more stirring, and, perhaps, the
more genuine order of poets who make you feel and glow, rather than doubt
and ponder. He knew at least enough of Greek to enjoy old Homer; and if
he could have come but ill through a college examination into Aeschylus
and Sophocles, he had dwelt with fresh delight on the rushing storm of
spears in the "Seven before Thebes," and wept over the heroic calamities
of Antigone. In science, he was no adept; but his clear good sense and
quick appreciation of positive truths had led him easily through the
elementary mathematics, and his somewhat martial spirit had made him
delight in the old captain's lectures on military tactics. Had he
remained in the navy, Percival St. John would doubtless have been
distinguished. His talents fitted him for straightforward, manly action;
and he had a generous desire of distinction, vague, perhaps, the moment
he was taken from his profession, and curbed by his diffidence in himself
and his sense of deficiencies in the ordinary routine of purely classical
education. Still, he had in him all the elements of a true man,--a man
to go through life with a firm step and a clear conscience and a gallant
hope. Such a man may not win fame,--that is an accident; but he must
occupy no despicable place in the movement of the world.