**

MEMOIR.

N times of peace, said the Greek orator, sons bury their fathers; in time of war, the fathers bury their sons. Some men know

that this inverted order of events may take place from causes with which war has nothing to do. In nature, the young plant is sometimes seen to droop and die, while the old is spared. Decay and death are appearances which appeal to our tenderest sensibilities wherever they come, doubly so when they thus come. But it would not be well that it should be otherwise. Our early days are visionary enough as it is, what would they be if sickness and the grave came only to the well stricken in years-to those worn down with the labour and care of a long pilgrimage? Providence, moreover, is often admonishing us that there is as little to secure us against such visitations in eminent goodness, or in the highest capacity for doing good, as in the fond dreaming of our youth. The young man's strength, and the wise man's wisdom, have their uses, but we are none of us left to account our own strength, or our own wisdom, as necessary to the course of human affairs. The world did without us once- -it will do without us again.

It was not, I suppose, unnatural for me to have thought, that should anything in my own somewhat laborious life be deemed worthy of a record, the hand now cold and still, but which had so often guided the pen at my suggestion, would have been the hand to perform that piece of service. But the Supreme Will has not so determined. It is left to the father to tell the story of the son,

VOL. I.

b

and to do what may be done toward rendering a life once so rich in promise, but which has proved so brief, as influential as may be. The will which seems in this instance to be not according to the order of nature, must always be the expression of wisdom, justice, and goodness. Let God be true!

Robert Alfred Vaughan was born in Worcester, on the 18th of March, in the year 1823. His birth on that day was two months earlier than had been expected. It is probable that this circumstance had its effect on his future constitution. During the first year of infancy his health was good. Subsequently he became sickly. Through the next two or three years his friends had much reason for anxiety on his account. But after that time he gradually gained strength. He never became robust, either in bone or flesh, but he improved greatly in appearance, was much admired during his years of boyhood for a certain mixture of masculine and feminine beauty which then distinguished him, and was capable of taking his full share in work or play with those of his own age.

In 1825 myself and family removed to Kensington. My residence in Kensington and at Notting-hill extended to the year 1843. During those years my son continued under my own roof. My aim in relation to him was to combine as far as possible the advantages of home education with those of a public school. It was not easy to realize that object. Alfred was my eldest child, and the only son spared to me beyond infancy. Until thirteen years of age his training was under my own superintendence, generally along with one or two pupils, a little older than himself, as companions. By this arrangement he was not left to be wholly dependent for society either on persons much beyond his own age, or on his sisters, who, besides being of the other sex, were all his juniors.

With this course of proceeding I had reason to be satisfied. Of all the blessings that may befal us in childhood, there cannot be a greater than that of a home where there is discipline, but a discipline without fear. It was always a solicitude with me that my own household should be one of that description. The family is the state in little. The effects of a reign of terror are the same in both. Deceit and falsehood seem to become legitimate weapons when left as the only means wherewith the weak can hope to oppose themselves successfully to the lawlessness of the strong. How far the kindly influences of home contributed to form the future character of my son it is hardly for me to say. But in that circle he grew up evincing a disposition to reverence whatever was proper to be revered, and to love whatever was proper to be loved. It was pleasant also to me to observe, that with his never-failing amiableness of temper, the firmer elements of his nature seemed to be getting deeper root, and to be acquiring greater strength. The room for fear concerning him lay chiefly in this direction. The man wanting in firmness may not perpetrate great mischiefs, but he will always be in danger of conniving at them. His sins of omission will be as great and as disastrous, probably, as the sins of commission in the case of men whose natures have been cast in a different mould. My son early saw the importance of guarding against danger in this form, and his fixedness in principle and feeling grew with his growth.

When he had reached the close of his thirteenth year, there was room to believe that he might be safely left to make his way with those of his own age. He entered the school of University College, London, possessing a knowledge of Latin, Greek, and Mathematics, creditable to him for his years, and with a measure of culture and of general information unusual at his age. His love of reading,

especially on literary subjects, was early manifested. While quite a child, he often sat at my feet for considerable intervals, with his book on his knee, he intent on his work, and I intent on mine. On one of those occasions I remember him suddenly looking up and saying, 'Papa, I think I must be a literary man.' 'Do you, Al,' was my reply, 'what makes you think so?' 'Because,' said he, 'I remember being within the sound of the scratching of your pen almost as long as I can remember anything.'

Before entering University College School, Alfred had attended more than one course of my lectures as Professor of History in that College. His favourite reading thus early was in history and biography. But he never allowed himself to be diverted unduly from the studies which modern opinion has placed at the foundation of a liberal education. The following extract from a letter with which I have been favoured by one of my son's earliest friends, furnishes some information concerning his school-days :

I must go back to my schoolboy days to recal my earliest remembrance of your son, for whom I then first contracted that regard which I ever entertained for him. He entered the school of the University College, London, after I had been there a short time. Well do I remember him as he appeared on the first day of his entrance, standing on the stairs, leaning back against the banisters, amidst the crowd of waiting boys, with his large head and long curls, and frock coat, an object of universal schoolboy observation, and therefore derision, blushing deeply at the rude remarks, and striving to avoid the tormenting jeers that rose up around him on every side, and with singular good humour, I must say, did he then, as always, bear the jests and teasing to which he was subjected. We soon, however, learned to respect and like him. He was a diligent scholar, and even then fuller of knowledge, and fonder of its acquisition, than most around him. I well remember the lively interest he used to show in many of our daily lessons-in the Greek history classes especially-and the witness which his translations, compositions, and viva voce answers in the class, bore to a careful preparation at home. He evinced, too, in all our classical lessons, a real taste, and an enjoyment and appreciation of the books read, almost incomprehensible to his companions generally. I remem

ber this fact particularly in reference to Herodotus. It was thus he first won my admiration and respect. I mention these facts, because they serve to mark some of the leading traits of his mind, his disposition to constant and careful study, and his natural love of literature—a love, I believe, which constantly increased.

At the University College I saw a good deal of him, and there I learned still more highly to value him, not only for those traits of character already mentioned, but also for his pleasant geniality of disposition, and that appreciation of the humorous which is so attractive always in a man of true dignity and strength of character. He was, perhaps, too reserved and retiring by nature to be universally popular or generally social; but all who knew and understood him esteemed him as a man, and prized his friendship and sought his society for the real enjoyment (neither mean nor profitless) that it afforded them. Besides a manly dignity of character, that naturally carried weight with it, he possessed an intellectual life and activity that would have promised fruits of industry and culture in one endowed with talents very inferior to his. I early noticed in him a quiet but resolute ambition. Doubtless this greatly stimulated his natural love of learning; at the same time, it appeared to me the great danger to which his character exposed him. At that time, however, I believe it was quite subordinate to his love of learning and his thirst for intellectual acquisition, and it did not much impress me. I have since been convinced that my judgment on this point was not unfounded.*

When my son passed from the classes of the school to those of the College, his daily preparations for the work of the classroom were regular and thorough. He stood well as a prizeman, in one department or more, at the close of every session. When preparing for his examinations I had sometimes to rise from my own bed to urge him to retire to his. It was a point of some importance with me that he should not form the habit of studying late at night rather than early in the morning. He knew enough to satisfy him that conformity with my wishes in this particular would be advantageous to himself, and I may mention a circumstance connected with his effort in this respect, as tending to show the earnest spirit with which his studies were prosecuted, and the

* Rev. J. H. Hutton.