inner self, and talked of his mother and her pleasure in Feniton; but
it began to rain, and I stayed for the night at Heaths Court, so that
our acquaintance ceased for that time. It was not a formal party at
Deerpark, and the evening was chiefly spent in playing at games,
thread paper verses and the like, in which Coley took his part with
spirit. If I had guessed what he was to be, I should have observed
him more; but though, in after years, our intercourse in letters
makes us feel intimate with one another, these two brief meetings
comprise the whole of my personal acquaintance with one in whom I
then only saw a young clergyman with his heart in his work.

Perhaps this is the best place to mention his personal appearance, as
the portrait at the beginning of this volume was taken not more than
a year later.

He was tall and of a large powerful frame, broad in the chest and
shoulders, and with small neat hands and feet, with more of sheer
muscular strength and power of endurance than of healthiness, so that
though seldom breaking down and capable of undergoing a great deal of
fatigue and exertion, he was often slightly ailing, and was very
sensitive to cold. His complexion was very dark, and there was a
strongly marked line between the cheeks and mouth, the corners of
which drooped when at rest, so that it was a countenance peculiarly
difficult to photograph successfully. The most striking feature was
his eyes, which were of a very dark clear blue, full of an unusually
deep earnest, and so to speak, inward, yet far away expression. His
smile was remarkably bright, sweet and affectionate, like a gleam of
sunshine, and was one element of his great attractiveness. So was
his voice, which had the rich full sweetness inherited from his
mother's family, and which always excited a winning influence over