“I may tell you that this is the last letter you are ever likely to receive from me from Brighton. My two years and a half (that but yesterday I thought would never end) are now nearly come to a close; I am sure if I had time I ought and could write a long letter of gratitude to you and my father for having given me such opportunities of improvement. Oh that I had made full use of them! what a capital fellow I should be! At all events, of this I am quite certain, that if your sons turn out either rascals or blockheads (the latter of which I fear is the case with the third {17}), it can never be laid to your charge. And so, with regard to the course we are now likely to enter upon, I feel that every reason which ought to influence a person in the strongest degree binds me to read with thorough diligence and perseverance, and I only trust that I may be enabled to show my gratitude for your kindness by taking thorough advantage of it.” “O si sic omnes!” is the thought that rises to the mind after perusing these schoolboy letters; they contain the germs of all the characteristics that made Edward Hoare the power that he afterwards became—manliness, gentleness, remarkable diligence, reverence for religion and the Bible, a loving and thankful spirit, and, last but not least, a keen sense of the humorous side of things. CHAPTER II _CAMBRIDGE_ In the year 1830 I went to Trinity College, Cambridge, one of the finest places for education. My dear brother Gurney was there at the time. Goulburn followed a year afterwards. Canon Carus was in his years a Fellow of Trinity, and my beloved friend Bishop Perry was there as a tutor. I had many friends, and we were a happy party. I have outlived almost all of them. I owe more than I can express to my College life. I read hard, and I have often observed that hard-reading men look back upon their College days with the greatest pleasure. I was surrounded by a set of steady men, and, above all, I had the advantage of Mr. Simeon’s ministry. There was something very wonderful about his preaching; it was not eloquence, and he had none of the brilliance of Mr. Elliott. But it was as clear as a noonday; his statements of truth were unmistakable. He was raised up to preach at Cambridge the great Evangelical doctrines of Scripture. And he taught them with a clearness, a distinctness, and a courage such as could not well be surpassed. Many and many a time did I return to my rooms after church, “sport” my door, and kneel down in earnest prayer under the solemn conviction produced by his most spiritual and awakening ministry. Thus the three years of my University life passed rapidly by. I was very eager in boat-racing, and very keen at the game of cricket, although I could not play much of it, as it took too long a time. But I am thankful to say I had the ministry always in view;