About the same time he was busy with some investigations on the properties of jelly and gutta-percha, which seem to have been suggested by Forbes’ “Theory of Glaciers.” He failed to obtain the Mathematical Medal in 1846--possibly on account of these researches--but he continued at school till 1847, when he left, being then first in mathematics and in English, and nearly first in Latin. In 1847 he was working at magnetism and the polarisation of light. Some time in that year he was taken by his uncle, Mr. John Cay, to see William Nicol, the inventor of the polarising prism, who showed him the colours exhibited by polarised light after passing through unannealed glass. On his return, he made a polariscope with a glass reflector. The framework of the first instrument was of cardboard, but a superior article was afterwards constructed of wood. Small lenses mounted on cardboard were employed when a conical pencil was needed. By means of this instrument he examined the figures exhibited by pieces of unannealed glass, which he prepared himself; and, with a camera lucida and box of colours, he reproduced these figures on paper, taking care to sketch no outlines, but to shade each coloured band imperceptibly into the next. Some of these coloured drawings he forwarded to Nicol, and was more than repaid by the receipt shortly afterwards of a pair of prisms prepared by Nicol himself. These prisms were always very highly prized by Maxwell. Once, when at Trinity, the little box containing them was carried off by his bed-maker during a vacation, and destined for destruction. The bed-maker died before term commenced, and it was only by diligent search among her effects that the prisms were recovered.[9] After this they were more carefully guarded, and they are now, together with the wooden polariscope, the bits of unannealed glass, and the water-colour drawings, in one of the showcases at the Cavendish Laboratory. About this time, Professor P. G. Tait and he were schoolfellows at the Academy, acknowledged as the two best mathematicians in the school. It was thought desirable, says Professor Campbell, that “we should have lessons in physical science, so one of the classical masters gave them out of a text-book.... The only thing I distinctly remember about these hours is that Maxwell and P. G. Tait seemed to know much more about the subject than our teacher did.” An interesting account of these days is given by Professor Tait in an obituary notice on Maxwell printed in the “Proceedings of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, 1879–80,” from which the following is taken:-- “When I first made Clerk Maxwell’s acquaintance, about thirty-five years ago, at the Edinburgh Academy, he was a year before me, being in the fifth class, while I was in the fourth.