ideas. A serenity, and at times a certain dreamy wistfulness were peculiarly typical of him, and the quiet strength that comes of a firm hold upon a principle of life.' He had a genius for friendship, but 'never courted friendships; his friends grew around him, and they learnt that the force which had drawn them to him became stronger with closer contact.... His friendship ennobled, because his nature was less mundane, more spiritual than that of the ordinary mortal. He went about life in the same manner as did the knight-errant of old, who would give his purse to the first wandering beggar he met and forget all about it in a moment. Material things were taken as they came; if they did not come he wasted little time in trying to get them.'
The spirit and fascination of Oxford took a wonderful hold upon his heart and imagination, as you may gather from the six poems he has dedicated to her praise. See with what magic he pictures her in 'Oxford—First Vision,' and the aspirations that vision wakens in him:
