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