MEMOIR 
t 9 
can report: ‘I have begun real hard work, very different to 
that of last year; it is striking what a change it makes in the 
pleasure of reading when the subject is a pleasant one.' He 
dips into philosophy; finds time for some English literature, 
poetry as well as prose; has half a mind to take up history 
seriously; and after listening to a sermon by Jowett launches 
into theology and commends him for the clearness with 
which he announces his belief in the evolution of religion. 
What is perhaps more to the point in view of his future 
ipental development, he attends anthropological lectures by 
Tylor in company with his great friend H. J. Mackinder of 
Christ Church—so great a friend indeed that, when the 
latter is elected President of the Union, ‘I had a severe run 
to have the pleasure of letting him know first’. The two of 
them discuss long and earnestly the choice of a career. ‘He 
will go in for a more or less public life. ... I have given up 
all idea of doing anything in public, and am going to be 
content with the more or less quiet life of a scientific man.’ 
He adds, in his sober-minded way, ‘I always come back to 
think that after all the best thing is to have a really happy 
home.’ It may be that his scientific life proved none too 
quiet inasmuch as it involved endless campaigning among 
wild peoples in wild places; but there can be no doubt that it 
was his good fortune to possess and enjoy the happy home 
for w r hich he longed. 
Meanwhile Spencer is sticking hard to his main job, 
though the effort is sometimes painful. ‘It is almost a sin 
to spend any of such glorious weather indoors, and terribly 
tantalizing to watch other men going off to boat or tennis 
whilst you yourself must work. Virtue is not always its own 
reward; or perhaps it is no great virtue after all to read for 
an exam, which you want to pass.’ The thought of what is 
before him is slightly daunting. ‘One of the horrors of an 
Oxford exam, is that you know there is a viva, in which you 
