fourteen and fifteen, and then came the great event and the great
blunder of my life, the mistake which well-nigh ruined it
altogether. My mother's brother had a son about five years older
than myself, who was being trained as an Independent minister. To
him I owe much. It was he who introduced me to Goethe. Some time
after he was ordained, he became heterodox, and was obliged to
separate himself from the Independents to whom he belonged. My
mother, as I have already said, was a little weak in her preference
for people who did not stand behind counters, and she desired
equality with her sister-in-law. Besides, I can honestly declare
that to her an Evangelical ministry was a sacred calling, and the
thought that I might be the means of saving souls made her happy.
Finally, it was not possible now to get a living in Bedford as a
bookseller. The drawing class in the school was fairly good, and I
believe I had profited by it. Anyhow, I loved drawing, and wished I
might be an artist. The decision was against me, and I was handed
over to a private tutor to prepare for the Countess of Huntingdon's
College at Cheshunt, which admitted students other than those which
belonged to the Connexion, provided their creed did not materially
differ from that which governed the Connexion trusts.

Before I went to college I had to be "admitted". In most Dissenting
communities there is a singular ceremony called "admission", through
which members of the congregation have to pass before they become
members of the church. It is a declaration that a certain change
called conversion has taken place in the soul. Two deacons are
appointed to examine the candidate privately, and their report is
submitted to a church-meeting. If it is satisfactory, he is
summoned before the whole church, and has to make a confession of
his faith, and give an account of his spiritual history. As may be