"In later days, when advancing age confined him to his London house, I very frequently visited him, and have a vivid picture of him in my memory, seated in his arm-chair by the dining-room table, books around him — well-read books, chiefly history and biography, together with works of thought on matters religious, political, and literary. His strong, earnest face would light up as I entered, greeting me with a cordial smile and a half-humorous twinkle of his eye, while, according to his habit, he rubbed his hands together in token of satisfaction. Then followed long talks — personal and public — and always was I struck with his eagerness and his capacity of taking in new ideas and modern modes of thought, rare in one of his age. My last recollection of him is a few weeks before his death, as he lay in his bed in the same room — books still on his pillow — calm, bright, and patient, his steadfast gaze fixed on the green trees and sunset sky seen through the open window, and his thoughts evidently fixed on the eternal glory so soon to be revealed to him."
The picture of Sir Frederick sitting in his diningroom is one all his friends will recognise. It was a special fancy inherited from his father, and nothing would persuade him to sit elsewhere, either in the drawing-room or in a study of his own. It had a peculiarly uncomfortable appearance, especially as he would never allow the servants to remove the cloth after luncheon, probably from a desire to save them trouble.
The trick of rubbing the hands together he had in common with his brother, and it always denoted pleasure in both of them; sometimes, when accentuated, it implied a touch of mischief.
Both he and his brother had great social gifts very differently used. The elder disliked general society, though when he was with difficulty persuaded to accept invitations he was usually the one who led conversation and to whom the rest were willing to listen. He conversed well and easily, was remarkablj'" apt with anecdote or quotation, and could tell a story with that brevity which is not only the soul of wit but the joy of the listener. He had indeed a very ready wit of his own and a considerable fund of humour. His company was as much appreciated by the young as by his contemporaries, and his entrance amongst a party of young people was always greeted with acclamation, for instead of being de trop, his presence was apt to be an incentive to more lively fun.
The younger brother was fond of society and an immense favourite. It made no difference to him what sort of society he was in. He had nothing to conceal and nothing to change in his conduct, and was therefore quite un-self-conscious. No doubt this gave him the peculiar fascination of manner which attracted all he spoke to, even before they had an opportunity of judging his real character. He was essentially true, and felt the kindness he so readily expressed. Not that he felt kindly towards everyone indiscriminately by any means. He could be a severe judge, and meanness or untruth met with short shrift at his hands. In some ways he was easily imposed on, being unsuspicious and very slow to think evil. But he was a far keener observer of human nature than mere superficial onlookers would be led to think. One who knew him intimately for many years, and was close to him at a most important period of his life, has written very shrewdly: " Yet he was fully conscious of his own merits, and while unduly depreciating his own opinion, he appraised the gaudier and loudly expressed views of others at far less value than they could ever have suspected from the courteous attention given. He ' submitted ' his views too humbly, and did not * assert ' them sufficiently to counteract the contentions of the un-squeamish. Keenly sensitive himself, he gave others credit for like fine feelings."
Frederick Stephenson was not such a brilHant talker as his brother Wilham, not so quick, not so witty, but his conversation was full of charm and was equally cultivated and intelligent; his humour and sense of fun were very great.
Conversation between the two brothers was delightful to listen to, each drawing the other out to produce of his best. The younger was that most attractive of mortals, a sympathetic listener. The elder, on the contrary, was rather an impatient audience, liking you to be brief and pithy in your conversation, and was very quick to seize a point. An official with whom he had much intercourse at one time used to irritate him by a slow, deliberate, explanatory manner of speaking, often breaking off to say, "You follow me?" "Follow him! " said my father; " I was there long before he was! "