powers
were such as to attract a large class of students, and many can still
read with pleasure his lectures on _The Roman and the Teuton_, in which
he was fired by the moral lessons involved in the decay of the Roman
empire and the coming of the vigorous young northern races. Apart from
his lectures he had made his mark in Cambridge by the friendly relations
which he established with many of the undergraduates and the personal
influence which he exercised. But he knew better than any one else his
shortcomings as an historian, the preparation of his lectures gave him
great anxiety and labour, and in 1869 he resigned the office.

The next honour which fell to him was a canonry at Chester, and in 1873,
less than two years before his death, he exchanged it for a stall at
Westminster. These historic cities with their old buildings and
associations attracted him very strongly: preaching in the Abbey was
even dangerously exciting to a man of his temperament. But while he gave
his services generously during his months of office, as at Chester in
founding a Natural History Society, he never deserted his old work and
his old parish. Eversley continued to be his home, and during the
greater part of each year to engross his thoughts.

Literature, science, and sport were, as we have seen, the three
interests which absorbed his leisure hours. A fourth, partaking in some
measure of all three, was travel, a hobby which the strenuous pursuit of
duty rarely permitted him to indulge. Ill-health or a complete breakdown
sometimes sent him away perforce, and it is to this that he chiefly owed
his knowledge of other climes. He has left us some fascinating pictures
of the south of France, the rocks of Biarritz, the terrace at Pau, the
blue waters of the Mediterranean, and the golden arches of the Pont du
Gard; but the voyages that thrilled him most were those that he took to
America, when he sailed the Spanish main in the track of Drake and
Raleigh and Richard Grenville. The first journey in 1870 was to the West
Indies; the second and longer one took him to New York and Quebec, and
across the continent to the Yosemite and San Francisco. This was in
1874, the last year of his life, and he was received everywhere with the
utmost respect and goodwill. His name was now famous on both sides of
the Atlantic, and the voice of opposition was stilled. The public had
changed its attitude to him, but he himself was unchanged. He had the
same readiness