The sense of the difficulties above referred to strongly impressed his mind even before he went to Oxford, and laid the foundation of that habit of self-denial in all personal matters, which enabled him through life to retain a feeling of independence, and at the same time to give effect to the promptings of a generous nature. 'You tell me,' he writes to his father from college, 'I coin money. I uncoined your last order by putting it into the fire, having already supplied myself.' About the middle of his Oxford career, a studentship fell vacant, which, according to the strange system then prevalent, was in the gift of Dr. Bull, one of the Canons of Christ Church. Instead of bestowing it, as was too commonly done, on grounds of private interest, Dr. Bull placed the valuable prize at the disposal of the Dean and Censors, to be conferred on the most worthy of the undergraduates. Their choice fell on James Bruce. In announcing this to a member of the Bruce family, Dr. Bull wrote: 'Dr. Smith, no less than the present college officers, assures me that there is no young man, of whatever rank, who could be more acceptable to the society, and none whose appointment as the reward of excellent deportment, diligence, and right-mindedness, would do more good among the young men.' A letter written about this time to his father shows that the young student, with a sagacity beyond his years, discerned the germs of an evil which has since grown to a great height, and now lies at the root of some of the most troublesome questions connected with University Education.