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I HAVE a sad pleasure in complying with the request made to me by Mrs. Arnold Toynbee, that I should write a short memoir of her husband. My acquaintance with him was limited to the years of his residence at Oxford ; and I knew him only as an older person knows one who is much younger than himself. He would not have liked me to exaggerate ; and I may fail to satisfy the enthusiasm of his younger friends, who were more intimate with him than I was. They may think, too, that I have unintentionally interpreted his views by my own. But though aware of these objections, I could not refuse, when asked, to offer this slight tribute to a dearlybeloved friend,
“Too little and too lately known," whose image and example have sunk deeply into the minds of some of his contemporaries.
Arnold Toynbee was the second son of Joseph Toynbee, F.R.S., the celebrated aurist. He was born in Savile Row, August 23, 1852. His father died before he was fourteen years of age, yet not before he had recognised the rare gifts and promise of his son. His childhood and youth were singularly happy and innocent. They were passed chiefly at Wimbledon, where he grew up in a cultivated society, surrounded by literary and