ed,
next day, to the professor. This plan impressed on our minds, not indeed
the exact form of words or the particular set of phrases of the books,
but the essential principles of the science,--so that, when, in after
years, amid the business of life, details and demonstrations had faded
from my memory, I have never found difficulty in working these out
afresh, and recalling and rearranging them, without aid from books.

One little incident connected with my mathematical studies still comes
back to me with a pleasant impression. My chief college friend was young
De Saussure, grandson of the naturalist of that name, who, the first
with a single exception, reached the summit of Mont Blanc. The subject
of our lecture was some puzzling proposition in the differential
calculus, and De Saussure propounded to the professor a knotty
difficulty in connection with it. The professor replied
unsatisfactorily. My friend still pressed his point, and the professor
rejoined very learnedly and ingeniously, but without really meeting the
case; whereupon De Saussure silently assented, as if quite satisfied.

"You were _not_ satisfied with that explanation," said I to De Saussure,
as we walked to our rooms.

"Of course not," was his reply; "but would you have had me before the
class shame the good man who takes so much pains with us and is usually
so clear-headed? We must work it out ourselves to-night."

This trifle may afford a glimpse of the relation between professor and
student at Hofwyl. There was no antagonism between them. The former was
regarded, not as a pedagogue, from whom to stand aloof,--not, because of
his position of authority, as a natural enemy, to be resisted, so far as
resistance was safe,--but as an elder friend, whom it was a privilege
(and it was one often enjoyed) to converse with, out of college hours,
in a familiar way. During the hours of recreation, the professors
frequently joined in our games. Nor did I observe that this at all
diminished the respect we entertained for them or the progress we made
under their care.

Emulation was limited among us to that which naturally arises among
young men prosecuting the same studies. It was not artificially excited.
There were no prizes; there was no taking rank in classes; there was not
even the excitement of public examinations. Many may think this a
hazardous experiment. I am not sure whether classical proficiency did
not, to a certain extent, suffer from it. I am