graduates were denominated ‘Sirs’; their place in Chapel was called ‘the Sirs pew’; and when spoken of in college ‘Sir’ was always placed before their names.  At that time the freshmen occupied, in part, the place of sizers in the English universities, and they were required to run errands for the seniors.  My room-mate was Sir Holly (Dr. Horace Holly).  As a mere freshman, I looked up to my room-mate with great respect, and treated him accordingly.  About half past five in winter, the bell summoned us from our beds,—­I rose, generally, before six,—­made the fire, and then went, pitcher in hand, often wading through snow, for water for Sir Holly and myself.  Of the college bell,” the letter continues:  “at six it called us to prayers in the chapel.  We next repaired to the recitation-rooms and recited, by candlelight, the lessons we had studied the preceding evening.  At eight we had breakfast,—­our meals were taken in a large hall with a kitchen opening into it.  The students were arranged at tables according to their classes.  All sat on wooden benches, not excepting the tutors; the latter had a table to themselves on an elevated platform whence they had a view of the whole company.  But it was rather difficult for them to attend to their plates and to watch two hundred boys at the same time.  Salt beef once a day, and dry cod were perhaps the most usual dishes.  On Sunday mornings, during the winter, our breakfast-tables were graced with large tin milk-cans filled with stewed oysters; at the proper season we were occasionally treated with green peas.  As you may suppose, a goodly number of waiters were needed in the hall.  These were all students, and many of them among the best and most esteemed scholars.  At nine the bell warned us to our rooms.  At twelve it called us to a recitation or a lecture.  After dinner we recommenced our studies for the third time, at four o’clock.  During study hours the tutors would frequently go the rounds, looking into our rooms to see that we were not playing truant.  Before supper, we all attended prayers in the chapel.”

[Illustration:  SILHOUETTE OF JAMES COOPER WHEN A STUDENT AT YALE.]

Although, from the necessity of his times, Chief-Justice John Jay was a slave owner, his son, William—­refined, benevolent, pleasing in manner, but with a temper easily aroused by injustice—­became an early, alert, and strong advocate of the anti-slavery cause.  This eminent jurist who built his life upon the plan of his words, “Duties are ours and consequences are God’s” (as did also Cooper), was graphically addressed and described by Cooper as “Thou most pugnacious man of peace.”

[Illustration:  OUTWARD BOUND.]