By way of mental diversion during these creative days at the Yale Club, I wrote personal letters to intimate friends.  One of these produced a result unlooked for.  There were about it compromising earmarks which the friend to whom it was sent recognized.  In it I said that I intended to approach a certain man of wealth and influence who lived in New York, with a view to securing some action that would lead to reform.  That was enough.  My friend showed the letter to my brother—­the one who had acted as my conservator.  He knew at once that I was in an excited mental condition.  But he could not very well judge the degree of the excitement; for when I had last talked with him a week earlier, I had not discussed my larger plans.  Business affairs and my hope for business advancement had then alone interested me.

I talked with President Hadley on Friday; Saturday I went to New York; Sunday and Monday I spent at the Yale Club, writing; Tuesday, this telltale letter fell under the prescient eye of my brother.  On that day he at once got in touch with me by telephone.  We briefly discussed the situation.  He did not intimate that he believed me to be in elation.  He simply urged me not to attempt to interest anyone in my project until I had first returned to New Haven and talked with him.  Now I had already gone so far as to invite my employers to dine with me that very night at the Yale Club for the purpose of informing them of my plans.  This I did, believing it to be only fair that they should know what I intended to do, so that they might dispense with my services should they feel that my plans would in any way impair my usefulness as an employe.  Of this dinner engagement, therefore, I told my brother.  But so insistently did he urge me to defer any such conference as I proposed until I had talked with him that, although it was too late to break the dinner engagement, I agreed to avoid, if possible, any reference to my project.  I also agreed to return home the next day.

That night my guests honored me as agreed.  For an hour or two we discussed business conditions and affairs in general.  Then, one of them referred pointedly to my implied promise to unburden myself on a certain subject, the nature of which he did not at the time know.  I immediately decided that it would be best to “take the bull by the horns,” submit my plans, and, if necessary, sever my connection with the firm, should its members force me to choose (as I put it) between themselves and Humanity.  I then proceeded to unfold my scheme; and, though I may have exhibited a decided intensity of feeling during my discourse, at no time, I believe, did I overstep the bounds of what appeared to be sane enthusiasm.  My employers agreed that my purpose was commendable—­that no doubt I could and would eventually be able to do much for those I had left behind in a durance I so well knew to be vile.  Their one warning was that I seemed in too great a hurry.  They expressed