Since the arrest of Dr Beale, St John’s has enjoyed a very quiet history. In the eighteenth century, it produced the regulation number of noblemen and paid its full contribution to the cabinets of the period. Towards the end of the century, we remark the name of the eccentric Samuel Parr, whose portrait hangs in the Combination Room, and of Herbert Marsh (* Ponsford), the controversialist and Bishop of Peterborough, to whom Professor Mayor has devoted a large space in his edition of Baker’s History. At the same time, we notice with interest that William Wilberforce (* G. Richmond) and Thomas Clarkson (* Room) were at St John’s together, and, while there, doubtless cultivated the humanitarianism which is their common title to fame. Clarkson was a native of Cambridgeshire, having been born at Wisbech, where his father was master of the Grammar School, in 1760. But, in 1787, St John’s received her most distinguished poet, William Wordsworth (* Pickersgill). He himself, in lines which are at once oddly prosaic and incomparably sublime, has described his impressions during his residence at Cambridge. These, however, are the sole tie which binds him to the place; for his retiring nature led him very little into society, and his emotions and impressions were all highly subjective. He has told us where his rooms were, but, owing to constant alterations, their exact position has been somewhat disputed. They are at present turned into one of the kitchen store-rooms. Some people, by a curious misreading of the text, have imagined that he could look into Trinity antechapel from his rooms and see Newton’s statue. As a matter of fact, he merely says that he could see the antechapel, and this feat is easily performed from any back-window on the south side of the first court. Like most highly imaginative poets, and unlike the materialistic Matthew Prior, Wordsworth was a dilatory student, and he deserted Cambridge in 1791 for the wilder excitement of the French Revolution.