As a young boy he was rather delicate, but strength seemed to come to him as he grew older, and he was able not only to study regularly, but also to take a fair share in the sports of the playground: indeed, he bore throughout his life distinct traces of an ugly blow he received in the cricket-field when about sixteen years old.

He was of an impulsive, sanguine temperament, and this, rather than physical strength, supplied much of the motive power both in his boyhood and throughout his busy, energetic life; enabling him to carry out, to at least some measure of completeness, many schemes which in other hands would probably have fallen to the ground. His single-hearted zeal won him allies both at school and in the world; he was born to be the leader of a forlorn hope, and he was, to a remarkable degree, successful in his enterprises. One who knew him well in later life makes a remark which applies to a much earlier period of his career:-"He was one of those rare natures who convince practical people against their slower judgment, and achieve impossibilities by the contagion of their own enthusiasm. Possunt quia posse videntur.”

Fortunately, moreover, his impulsiveness did not merely accumulate force to be wasted, as so often happens, in spasmodic, ill-sustained effort. Method, rather in his case an acquired habit than a natural gift, characterized him even as a boy to quite a curious degree. He set an object steadily before his eyes, calculated, so far as he could, the means that would reach the end, and then sternly disciplined himself with a view to the accomplishment of his cherished purpose. An old friend, who had ample means of studying his character both at School and at Oxford, says, "His days were bound each to each by conscientious adherence to a well-considered, selfimposed plan of life. In an age which is spendthrift of time and too much open to casual impulses, he never

drifted: he always seemed to be steering straight at a He was the least pushing of men, and little

mark.

careful of external success; but nothing turned him aside from what seemed to him the line of his chosen duty."

And yet withal he was a most genial, lovable boy, full of fun and with a keen appreciation of all the lighter sides of life; of quick and ready sympathies, fond of society as he grew older, and generally popular. Indeed, it was an early and almost precocious realization of the risks to which he was exposed by his social gifts and natural temperament, that made him set himself firmly to acquire those habits of self-restraint and methodical study without which he felt any intellectual self-development was impossible.

It is a great pleasure to me to recall that, while holding a curacy in Reading after taking my degree, I was able to be of service to my brother in his preparation for his University career. I have a very distinct recollection, for instance, of reading the Latin satirists with him, and of the eager and intelligent interest he took in all the social and historical questions which arise in the course of such a study. This must have been in 1858 and in the first part of 1859.

At this time it was proposed that Charles should compete at some scholarship examination at Oxford; but nothing definite had been arranged, when, quite unexpectedly, an opportunity came at St. John's College. Reading School had the privilege of sending two scholars to St. John's; but no vacancy was likely to occur, and consequently it seemed well nigh impossible that my brother could ever be upon the foundation of that college to which the thoughts of a Reading boy would naturally turn. But during a visit of a few hours to Oxford in June, 1859, I fortunately heard from one of the Reading Fellows that Tunbridge School, a sister foundation to Reading in the privilege of sending scholars to St. John's, had just presented a candidate whom the college had 1 From a letter from the Rev. Edward Harris, M.A., Head Master of Exeter School.

determined to reject. The result was that the Scholarship was thrown open to public competition, a valuable prize in those days, for it led in due course to a Fellowship. I well remember the astonishment of the future Fellow, when, on his return from a boating expedition that evening, he was told he must start next morning for Oxford. However, not much persuasion was required, and, although there were some worthy competitors, Charles was successful at the examination; the thing that struck the examiners being the wide range of his reading for so young a man. The preferment then won he retained till his death.

At Oxford he was a diligent, energetic student, reading widely and systematically; and, although he failed to obtain the highest honours in the University examinations, he was generally allowed to be one of the ablest men of his standing. Perhaps in reading he did not keep the schools sufficiently in view to achieve the greatest success; but I suppose few at the present time will be found to maintain that a competitive examination is the most desirable stimulus for the best minds, or even an infallible means of discovering them.

I am sorry to have but few records of my brother's undergraduate life, which admit of being introduced in a memoir. The following extracts, however, will serve to give some glimpses of a routine of hard work lightened by genial sympathy with the thoughts and pursuits of others

As an undergraduate he was a very industrious student,

"In the Moderations List he obtained a second class. but was so little below the standard of a First as to make me feel (I was an Examiner at the time) that a very slight difference in the chances of the Examination would have secured him that position.”—From a letter rom Mr. Robinson Ellis.

Another Examiner also writes, "I examined him in the Final Classical School. He showed great ability and very considerable knowledge. His philosophical papers I thought quite on a level with the best sent in that time."

with a decided bent towards speculative philosophy. . . . Even in his freshman's term, nearly twenty years ago, two or three of his friends used to meet on Sunday evenings in each others' rooms and read philosophical books, among which Mansel's Bampton Lectures, then in the height of their fame, found a prominent place. The choice was not very happy, perhaps, and it was only Appleton's philosophical ardour which kept the little band together; the others soon found the food too strong for them, but he relished it heartily, and would not allow his friends to relinquish their chosen task.1

A contemporary adds the reminiscence :

If one was with him late in the evening, one would invariably see the faggot brought in and laid in the fender, that he might light his own fire and begin work before any servants came into college.

Another friend writes to me as follows:

:

When I went up as an undergraduate to Oxford in October, 1863, my first visit was to Appleton's rooms. It was on a Saturday night, at about half-past seven, when I found my way to "No. I, first quad., I pair, left hand door;" his " oak" was sported," but as soon as he discovered it was none of his college friends, he opened the door and welcomed me warmly to Oxford. He was now reading steadily for "Greats," and made a point of arranging his work so as to get to bed very early; but he went out of his way to keep me talking, and even walked out with me to see my rooms and gave me some hints about furnishing. It was the first of the many proofs he gave me of the genuine, practical interest he took in his friends.

This term it was his custom to get up at four o'clock in the morning, light his fire, make some coffee and then work till nine. After a short interval for breakfast, he read on till midday, and then gave a long afternoon to exercise and recreation.

Though he was so busy, he allowed me to see a good deal of him even before the schools began. I found he had given up the idea of taking Orders and was now thinking of the Bar. One day we had a long talk about " Church principles," and he seemed satisfied that a good case could be made out for them. He was at this time inclined to the opinions of

1 From the obituary notice in the Athenæum, Feb. 22, 1879.

Maurice and Stanley, and something gave me the impression that Stanley had had a good deal of influence upon him.

On November 21, 1863, I wrote in my diary: "Appleton has just been to see me and we have had a walk. He has missed his First, but in very good company; for there are two or three men in the second, whom everybody expected to find in the first class."

His disappointment in the final schools did not make him a less eager student than he was before. Having put aside, at least for the present, the thought of the Bar, he gave himself up earnestly to philosophy. I saw much of him during the next three years; and he used to talk often, and always with deep seriousness, of the questions which lie at the foundation of philosophy and theology. He was one of those men not too many-who are in earnest about philosophy. His conversations gave me a clear idea of the nature and the bearings of the Hegelian system, and he put before me with great plainness and force the reasons which led him to think this philosophy the true one.

On Monday, October 22, 1866, I wrote in my diary: "Appleton lunched with me to-day and we walked out afterwards. He has been much troubled lately with weakness in one eye, and Dr. Symonds has advised him to avoid all reading for a time; so I have promised to read to him in the evening three times a week out of some book that may be useful to both of us. We shall begin with Mill's "Examination of Sir W. Hamilton's Philosophy." Dr. Symonds' treatment was successful, and by the end of term the weakness was nearly cured.

About this time your brother took an interest in a friend of mine, A——————, of Balliol, who had just been received into the Roman Catholic Church, and showed all that earnest curiosity about a position so different from his own, which I had noticed so often before to be characteristic of him. We had some talk about an article, which appeared at the beginning of November in the Daily News, accusing the High Church. party in Oxford of systematic proselytism by means of brotherhoods, party lectures and personal influence. This charge Appleton did not think a fair one, and could not agree with his Liberal friends about it.

After I had taken my degree, I saw Appleton oftener than before, in company with his graduate friends, and used to enjoy listening to his conversation with them. One evening