exact and judicious critic, as is sufficiently shown by his essay on
_The French Play in London_.[17] Hebrew he mastered sufficiently to
"follow and weigh the reasons offered by others" for a retranslation of
the Old Testament; and into Celtic literature he made at any rate one
memorable incursion.[18]

A man so equipped was essentially a man of letters: a great deal more
than a classicist, but a classicist first and foremost. And so it was
natural that he should think a classical education the best education
that could be offered to boys, and should desire to see classics, taught
in a literary and not a pedantic spirit, the staple of instruction in
all those Public Schools, whether of ancient or of modern foundation,
to which the Upper and Middle Classes should resort. He was perfectly
ready to make composition in Greek and Latin the luxury of the few who
had a special aptitude for it, therein following the doctrine of Dr.
Whewell, and leading the way to a notable reform in Public Schools. But
to read the best Latin and Greek authors was to be the staple of a boy's
education, and thereto were to be added a full and scholarly knowledge
of English, and a sufficiency, such as modern life demands, of Science
and Mathematics. He "ventured once, in the very Senate-House and heart
of Cambridge, to hazard the opinion that for the majority of mankind a
little of mathematics goes a long way." He thought it no particular gain
for a boy to know that "when a taper burns, the wax is converted into
carbonic acid and water." He thought it a clear loss that he should not
know the last book of the _Iliad_, or the sixth book of the _Æneid_, or
the _Agamemnon_. He encouraged the Eton boys to laugh at "Scientific
lectures, and lessons on the diameter of the sun and moon"; but he was
moved almost to tears when "Can you not wait upon the lunatic?" was
offered as a paraphrase of "Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased?"
He listened with amused interest to the teachers who deduced our descent