As a theologian, he belonged to the sane, masculine Cambridge school, which included his friends Lightfoot, Westcott, Hort, and others—a race of men who were not afraid to bring scholarly criticism to bear upon theological writings and doctrines, strengthening the faith by broadening its basis. On sacred subjects, as on Plato, he wrote with acknowledged authority. The man whom he followed above all others, and whose views he embodied, was Frederick Denison Maurice. He read the last words over Maurice’s grave, and, until he himself was laid to rest, he preached and practised the life which Maurice led and taught. Virile in mind, he was virile in body also. One of the original members of the Alpine Club, and a pioneer in some notable ascents, he lived to attend the jubilee dinner of the Club, and was well over eighty when he visited Switzerland for the last time. A hard-working clergyman of the Church of England, hard-working whether in town or country, for his benefices ranged from Whitechapel and Marylebone to Kirkby Lonsdale in Westmorland, he was all the time not a clergyman only, but a citizen, holding that the one implied the other; that the preacher of the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man must practise what he preaches; that you cannot guide the people unless you know them, not as a member of an exclusive caste, but being among them as one that serveth. At one time he was a member of the London School Board: he was a staunch supporter of the co-operative movement: he laboured for the cause of women, was Principal of Queen’s College, Harley Street, and Chairman of the governing body of the Working Women’s College. So strong was his sense of public duty that a friend described him as the only man who had ever been known to take a positive pleasure in paying rates and taxes.