club--the Decemviri--to which he had himself belonged. One of the
members of that time has since told me that he was the only older man he
had ever known who really mixed with undergraduates and debated with
them on absolutely equal terms. But indeed, so far as looks went, though
he was now thirty-four, he might almost have been an undergraduate
himself.

We arranged always to walk together on Sunday afternoons. As an old
member of King's College, I had a key of the garden there in the Backs,
and a pass-key of the college gates, which were locked on Sunday during
the chapel service. We always went and walked about that beautiful
garden with its winding paths, or sat out in the bowling-green. Then we
generally let ourselves into the college grounds, and went up to the
south porch of the chapel, where we could hear the service proceeding
within. I can remember Hugh saying, as the Psalms came to an end
"Anglican double chants--how comfortable and delicious, and how entirely
irreligious!"

We talked very freely and openly of all that was in our minds, and
sometimes even argued on religion. He used to tell me that I was much
nearer to his form of faith than most Anglicans, and I can remember his
saying that the misery of being an Anglican was that it was all so
rational--you had to make up your mind on every single point. "Why not,"
he said, "make it up on one point--the authority of the Church, and have
done with it?" "Because I can't be dictated to on points in which I feel
I have a right to an opinion." "Ah, that isn't a faith!" "No, only a
faith in reason." At which he would shrug his shoulders, and smile. Once
I remember his exhibiting very strong emotion. I had spoken of the
worship of the Virgin, and said something that seemed to him to be in a
spirit of levity. He stopped and turned quite pale. "Ah, don't say