who were very sorry to lose him, and took up quarters with a clergyman
in Lincolnshire (Winteringham) under whom he pursued his studies for a
year, to prepare himself thoroughly for college. His letters during this
period are mostly of a religious tinge, enlivened only by a mishap while
boating on the Humber when he was stranded for six hours on a sand-bank.
He had become quite convinced that his calling was the ministry. The
proper observance of the Sabbath by his younger brothers and sisters
weighed on his mind, and he frequently wrote home on this topic.

In October, 1805, we find him settled at last in his rooms at St.
John's, the college that is always dear to us as the academic home of
two very different undergraduates--William Wordsworth and Samuel Butler.
His rooms were in the rearmost court, near the cloisters, and
overlooking the famous Bridge of Sighs. His letters give us a pleasant
picture of his quiet rambles through the town, his solitary cups of tea
as he sat by the fire, and his disappointment in not being able to hear
his lecturers on account of his deafness. Most entertaining to any one
at all familiar with the life of the Oxford and Cambridge colleges is
his account of the thievery of his "gyp" (the manservant who makes the
bed, cares for the rooms, and attends to the wants of the students).
Poor Henry's tea, sugar, and handkerchiefs began to vanish in the
traditional way; but he was practical enough to buy a large padlock for
his coal bin.

But Henry's innocent satisfaction in having at last attained the haven
of his desires was not long of duration. In spite of ill health, his
tutors constrained him to enter for a scholarship examination in
December, and when the unfortunate fellow pleaded physical inability,
they dosed him with "strong medicines" to enable him to face the
examiners. After the ordeal he was so unstrung that he hurried off to