We stayed at Twyford till the end of 1833, when our father resolved to send us to Rugby. Dr. Arnold had been a little his junior at Oriel; and, though considerably exercised by the Doctor’s politics, he shared that unhesitating faith in his character and ability which seems to have inspired all his contemporaries. In the meantime George had gone up rapidly into the highest form at Twyford, amongst boys two years older than himself, and generally carried off not only prizes for the school work but for all kinds of gymnastics. Twyford was a little before its time in this respect, as we had quite a number of gymnastic poles of different kinds in the playground, upon which we had regular lessons under a master who came over from Winchester. Every half-year we had a gymnastic examination, attended by the master’s daughters, and a lady or two from the neighbourhood, who distributed the prizes (plates of fruit and cake) at the end of the day to the successful boys. One special occasion I well remember, in which the excitement ran particularly high. A new prize for vaulting was to be given, not for the common style “which any boy could do,” our master said; but for vaulting between the hands. I don’t want any of you to try it, for it is a dangerous exercise, and I wonder that some of us did not break our necks in attempting it. You had to place both your hands on the back of the vaulting horse, as far apart, or as near together, as you liked, and then spring over between them without lifting either, even for half an inch. Of course none but long-armed boys could do it at all; but there were enough of these for a large entry. Very soon, however, one after another fell out, either for touching with their feet, or shifting a hand during the vault; and George and a very active boy, a great friend of ours in after years, Charles Mansfield by name, were left alone. They two went on springing over the horse, without the least touch of foot or shifting of hand, until it was at last voted by acclamation that they should divide the great plate of grapes, apples, and sponge cakes, which stood ready for the winner. But I must not tell you so much of all his successes in athletic games. These things are made too much of nowadays, until the training and competitions for them outrun all rational bounds. What I want to show you is, that while he was far more distinguished in these than any of you are at all likely to be (or indeed, as things stand, than I for one should wish you to be), he never neglected the real purpose of a schoolboy’s life for them, as you will see from some of his early letters from Rugby to which school we went in February 1834, when he was only twelve years old. These are all addressed to his father and mother, and generally end, “Please consider this for grandmama as well as for yourselves.” No boy was ever more thoughtful of every one who had any possible claim upon him. Here is almost the first of them.