lation, he ranged at will. He there acquired that accur-
ate knowledge, which, further developed by minute
examination of all existing monuments, constituted him a
great authority upon English Gothic, and, at the same
time, a protector of the mediaeval cathedrals and churches
against the vandalism of so-called "restorations."  A
school-fellow at Marlboro describes Morris as one who,
Ven to solitude and monologues, was considered "a
emad" by the other boys: a dreamer who invented
and poured forth endless stories of "knights and fairies,"
in which one adventure rose out of another; the tale
flowing on from day to day, throughout a whole term.
Another peculiarity then noticeable in him was the rest-
lessness of his fingers. The natural undeveloped crafts-
man sought an outlet for his manual activity in endless
netting. While studying in the large school-room, he
worked for hours together, with one end of the net
fastened to a desk and his fingers moving automatically.
Altogether, the impression made by Morris upon his
associates of those days was that of a boy remarkable for
his physical force and his intense love of nature, but
whose scholarship was quite ordinary, barring his inti-
mate acquaintance with English history and architecture.
                         Leaving    Marlboro,  Morris
passed under the tutorship of a High Churchman of fine
attainment and character, of wide sympathies and of
cultivated tastes, which extended to the fine arts, Respon-
sive to the new influences, the boy developed into a more
than fair classical scholar, and received the inspiration of
the strongly individual literary and artistic work of his
future years. But the decisive moment of his life occurred
in June, 1852, when on passing his matriculation exam-
ination for Exeter College, Oxford, he occupied a desk
next to that of Edward Burne-Jones, who was destined to
be his lifoe-long and most intimate friend. Going into
residence in what he himself called the most beautiful of
the ancient cities of England, the atmosphere of Oxford