law to classes of little girls. As regards this later period, Max Nordau is undoubtedly right in speaking of Ruskin's mind as ``turbid and fallacious''; but the time of which I speak was his best, and his influence upon me was good. I remember especially that his ``Lamp of Power'' made a very deep impression upon me. Carlyle, too, was at his best. He was the simple, strong preacher;--with nothing of the spoiled cynic he afterward became. The stay of three months with my friend--the future bishop--in the little country town, was also good for me physically. In our hours of recreation we roamed through the neighboring woods, shooting squirrels and pigeons with excellent effect on my health. Meantime I kept up my correspondence with all the members of the family save my father;--from him there was no sign. But at last came a piece of good news. He was very fond of music, and on the arrival of Jenny Lind in the United States he went to New York to attend her concerts. During one of these my mother turned suddenly toward him and said: ``What a pity that the boy cannot hear this; how he would enjoy it!'' My father answered, ``Tell him to come home and see us.'' My mother, of course, was not slow in writing me, and a few days later my father cordially greeted my home-coming, and all difficulties seemed over. Shortly after Christmas he started with me for Yale; but there soon appeared a lion in the path. Our route lay through Hartford, the seat of Trinity College, and to my consternation I found at the last moment that he had letters from our rector and others to the president and professors of that institution. Still more alarming, we had hardly entered the train when my father discovered a Trinity student on board. Of course, the youth spoke in the highest terms of his college and of his faculty, and more and more my father was pleased with the idea of staying a day or two at Hartford, taking a look at Trinity, and presenting our letters of introduction. During a considerably extended career in the diplomatic service I have had various occasions to exercise tact, care, and discretion, but I do not think that my efforts on all these together equaled those which I then put forth to avoid stopping at Hartford. At last my father asked me, rather severely, why I cared so much about going to New Haven, and I framed an answer offhand to meet the case, saying that Yale had an infinitely finer library than Trinity. Thereupon he said, ``My boy, if you will go to Trinity College I will give you the best private library in the United States.'' I said, ``No, I am going to New Haven; I started for New Haven, and I will go there.'' I had never braved him before. He said not a word. We passed quietly through Hartford, and a day or two later I was entered at Yale.