The breathless exuberant feat of imagination and philosophy closes with quotations from Portia’s lines to Mercy and Cicero’s oration on Verres, both of which, the author truthfully says, ’show powers of reflection.’ Harry was writing and studying with a definite end in view. Already the youth had determined on a political career, and when the schoolboys discussed their plans for the future he invariably declared that he meant to be a Member of Parliament. The statement was received with roars of laughter, but Harry remained imperturbably sure. [Sidenote: Still at the foot of the Class.] He was at Queenwood for a year and a half, and then went to London, where he first attended King’s College School, and then King’s College. A schoolmate described him as ‘a very tall boy with pale whitey brown hair, who always stood at the bottom of the lower sixth class.’ He attended the school in his fifteenth and sixteenth years, and then went to lectures in the college until the summer of 1852, when he was nineteen years old. Standing in the school was, in those days, entirely determined by knowledge of the classics, for which Fawcett showed a grand indifference; but he gained the arithmetic prize in 1849, also the class-work prize, the first prize in German, and the second in French in the same term. His knowledge of these languages was always so vague that we fear his teacher was over-partial in the award, or that the other boys were strangely deficient. In 1850 he carried off another honour for mathematics, and a first prize after that in the Michaelmas term. The masters noted Fawcett’s unusual mathematical power, and were also impressed by his ability to write English prose. [Sidenote: King’s College and Cricket.] At Easter in 1851 he left school and worked only at the college for mathematics and classics. We hear that he made no particular mark; but he occasionally played billiards and cricket, and he was already an interested spectator in the gallery of the House of Commons.