The spring found him of course in the full tide of Eton interests.  The sixth and upper fifth forms, to the latter of which he had by this time attained, may contend in the public examination for the Newcastle scholarship, just before the Easter holidays, and it is a great testimony to a boy’s ability and industry if his name appears among the nine select for their excellence.  This time, 1843, Coley, who was scarcely sixteen, had of course but little chance, but he had the pleasure of announcing that his great friend, Edmund Bastard, a young Devonshire squire, was among the ‘select,’ and he says of himself:  ’You will, as I said before, feel satisfied that I did my best, but it was an unlucky examination for me.  It has done me a great deal of good in one way.  It has enabled me to see where I am particularly deficient, viz. general knowledge of history, and a thorough acquaintance with Greek and Roman customs, law courts and expressions, and Greek and Roman writers.  I do not find myself wanting in making out a stiff bit of Greek or Latin if I have time, but I must read History chiefly this year, and then I hope to be selected next time.  My tutor is not at all disappointed in me.’

This spring, 1843, Patteson became one of the Eleven, a perilously engrossing position for one who, though never slurring nor neglecting his studies, did not enjoy anything so much as the cricket-field.  However, there the weight of his character, backed by his popularity and proficiency in all games and exercises, began to be a telling influence.

On November 2, 1843, when the anniversary of his mother’s death was coming round, he writes to his eldest sister:—­

’I had not indeed forgotten this time twelvemonth, and especially that awful Sunday night when we stood round dear mamma’s bed in such misery.  I never supposed at that time that we could ever be happy and merry again, but yet it has been so with me; and though very often the recollection of that night has come upon me, and the whole scene in its misery has passed before me, I hope I have never forgotten, that though a loss to us, it was a gain to her, and we ought rather to be thankful than sorrowful....  By the bye, I do not really want a book-case much, and you gave me the “Irish Stories,” and I have not yet been sent up.  I would rather not have a present, unless the Doctor means to give me an exercise.  Do not lay this down to pride; but you know I was not sent up last half, and if this passes, a blank again, I do not deserve any fresh presents.’

This piece of self-discipline was crowned by joyous notices of being ‘sent up for good’ and ‘for play’ in the next half; when also occurs a letter showing a spirit of submission to a restriction not fully understood:—­

’Tuesday evening.

’My dearest Father,—­Hearing that “Israel in Egypt” was to be performed at Exeter Hall on Friday night, I went and asked my tutor whether he had any objection to my running up that night to hear it, and coming back the next morning, quite early at six.  My tutor said that, without any absurd feelings on the matter, he should not think himself of going to such a thing in Lent.  “It was not,” he said, “certainly like going to the play, or any of those sort of places,” but he did not like the idea of going at all.  Do you think that there was any harm in the wish?