Few men of his time, I imagine, were better known
than my wife's father. General Sir Charles Foster ;
not so much as a gallant soldier, for gallant soldiers
are never scarce, but in the Clubs and Society, where
his singularly handsome presence, old-fashioned
courtesy, and rare conversational charm secured him
the widest popularity. Beginning his military career
as a cornet in the i6th Lancers, he had the rare
experience to engage at different times in three duels,
of one of which it is related that he insisted on receiv-
ing his adversary's fire seated, before discharging his
own pistol in the air. But it was not only as a beau
sabreur that he was distinguished. He was an admir-
able cavalry officer, and at the time when the purchase
question was agitating the service, his deep and
extensive knowledge of army matters brought him to
the front as one of the foremost champions of a
system which, though doomed to extinction, was not
to disappear without a struggle. In the lobby of the
House of Commons, where he was in constant attend-
ance during the debates, and by his pen in the columns
of the Times, Sir Charles fought the officers' batrie
with equal good temper and ability. So highly were

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his services considered that, after serving on an impor-
tant military commission, he was chosen to succeed Sir
Garnet Wolseley as Member of the Council of the
Secretary of State for India. He was made a K.C.B.,
and, crowning honour of all, was appointed to the
Colonelcy of his old regiment, a post which he held to
the day of his death. To me he was simply the most
admirable man I have ever known — more than a friend,
much more than a relation. I regarded him with deep
affection, and if I had had to write his epitaph I
should have been tempted to steal the lines of the
Australian poet : —

" Life is mostly froth and bubble.
