e coming out of a London party, and looked on the
hungry faces in the crowd outside the door, I rather foolishly
said: 'One couldn't bear to look at them unless one felt that there
was another world for them.' He replied: 'Are we to have both,
then?' I know how his tone and the look in his face haunted me more
than I can say."

A contemporary at Oxford writes, with reference to the same period:
"When we went up, Liddon was preaching his Bamptons, and we went
to them together, and were much moved by them. There were three
of us who always met for Friday teas in one another's rooms, and
during Lent we used to go to the Special Sermons at St. Mary's.
We always went to Liddon's sermons, and sometimes to his Sunday
evening lectures in the Hall of Queen's College. We used to go
to the Choral Eucharist in Merton Chapel, and, later, to the iron
church at Cowley, and to St. Barnabas, and enjoyed shouting the
Gregorians."

On the intellectual side, we are told that Holland's love of literature
was already marked. "I can remember reading Wordsworth with him,
and Carlyle, and Clough; and, after Sunday breakfasts, Boswell's
_Life of Johnson_." Then, as always, he found a great part of his
pleasure in music.

No record, however brief, of an undergraduate life can afford to
disregard athletics; so let it be here recorded that Holland played
racquets and fives, and skated, and "jumped high," and steered
the _Torpid_, and three times rowed in his College Eight. He had
innumerable friends, among whom three should be specially recalled:
Stephen Fremantle and R. L. Nettleship, both of Balliol, and W.
H. Ady, of Exeter. In short, he lived the life of the model
undergraduate, tasting all the joys of Oxford, and finding time
to spare for his prescribed studies. His first encounter with the
examiners, in "Classical Moderations," was only partially successful.
"He did not appreciate the niceties of scholarship, and could not
write verses or do Greek or Latin prose at all well;" and he was
accordingly placed in the Third Class. But as soon as the tyranny
of Virgil and Homer and Sophocles was overpast, he betook himself
to more congenial studies. Of the two tutors who then made Balliol
famous, he owed nothing to Jowett and everything to T. H. Green.
That truly great man "simply fell in love" with his brilliant pupil,
and gave him of his best.

"Philosophy's the chap for me," said an eminent man on a momentous
occasion. "If a parent asks a