thinker.  He used to discuss Coleridge with a man little known then, but who gained a high reputation on the Continent as a first-rate Greek scholar, and became afterwards Professor of Greek in the University of Sydney, Charles Badham.  Marriott also appreciated Hampden as a philosopher, whom the Oriel men thoroughly distrusted as a theologian.  He might easily under different conditions have become a divine of the type of F.D.  Maurice.  He was by disposition averse to anything like party, and the rough and sharp proceedings which party action sometimes seems to make natural.  His temper was eminently sober, cautious and conciliatory in his way of looking at important questions.  He was a man with many friends of different sorts and ways, and of boundless though undemonstrative sympathy.  His original tendencies would have made him an eclectic, recognising the strength of position in opposing schools or theories, and welcoming all that was good and high in them.  He was profoundly and devotedly religious, without show, without extravagance.  His father, who died when he was only fourteen, had been a distinguished man in his time.  He was a Christ Church man, and one of two in the first of the Oxford Honour lists in 1802, with E. Copleston, H. Phillpotts, and S.P.  Rigaud for his examiners.  He was afterwards tutor to the Earl of Dalkeith, and he became the friend of Walter Scott, who dedicated to him the Second Canto of Marmion; and having ready and graceful poetical talent, he contributed several ballads to the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, The Feast of Spurs, and Archie Armstrong’s Aith.  He was a good preacher; his sympathies—­of friendship, perhaps, rather than of definite opinion—­were with men like Mr. John Bowdler and the Thorntons.  While he lived he taught Charles Marriott himself.  After his death, Charles, a studious boy, with ways of his own of learning, and though successful and sure in his work, very slow in the process of doing it, after a short and discouraging experiment at Rugby, went to read with a private tutor till he went to Oxford.  He was first at Exeter, and then gained a scholarship at Balliol.  He gained a Classical First Class and a Mathematical Second in the Michaelmas Term of 1832, and the following Easter he was elected Fellow at Oriel.

For a man of his power and attainments he was as a speaker, and in conversation, surprisingly awkward.  He had a sturdy, penetrating, tenacious, but embarrassed intellect—­embarrassed, at least, by the crowd and range of jostling thoughts, in its outward processes and manifestations, for he thoroughly trusted its inner workings, and was confident of the accuracy of the results, even when helplessly unable to justify them at the moment.[32] In matters of business he seemed at first sight utterly unpractical.  In discussing with keen, rapid, and experienced men like the Provost, the value of leases, or some question of the management of College property, Marriott, who always took great