FROM the "Letters" collected by Professor Thayer, we glean some interesting facts about the college life of the man pronounced by the London Academy "one of the finest philosophical minds which America or any country has produced," - Chauncey Wright.

Mr. Wright was examined for entrance to college in August, 1848, after three or four months' preparation at the Williston Seminary, Easthampton. He "hated" the classics, and his knowledge of them was very meagre. Indeed, it seemed at one time as if his shortcomings in this study would hinder him from entering. Means were taken to secure his admission that in these stern days would hardly be thought efficacious: "I have seen the President," writes a lady, "and said all I could for Chauncey, and I have no doubt he will get in." The lady's influence, however, was not strong enough to get him in without conditions.

He was a remarkably fine mathematician. He took mathematics as an elective in the Junior year, and occasionally displayed his power by arriving at the same result with Professor Peirce by methods of his own. He was equally good in astronomy and physics. He was a good student in moral and intellectual philosophy. His forensics and themes, too, were sometimes of unusual merit. He never was a bookworm, however. Indeed, we learn from the pages before us that he seldom had a book in his hands; for neither at this time nor ever was he addicted to books, or much devoted to the regular studies of the college." Mr. Wright's standing was never high, nor did he aim to make it so. He stood, however, well up in the first half of his class, and received a Commencement Part.

He roomed, during his Freshman and Sophomore years, in the third story of Massachusetts. By the rules then enforced Freshmen were not entitled to this room; Mr. Wright, however, obtained it by buying out a Senior. In those days there were no bursars. During Senior year he roomed at Holworthy 15.

Coming to college with but few friends, be made but few new ones for two years. It was not till his Junior and Senior years that his fine qualities were universally recognized. He did not belong to the Institute. He was made an honorary member of the Hasty Pudding Club after graduation.

We learn that he was of a "singularly amiable and compliant disposition," so much so that his friends would occasionally persuade him to take their water-pails and go down two flights of stairs to the college pump for their water.

When the class honors were distributed, the jack-knife was awarded to him. The jack-knife, it seems, was given, nominally, to the homeliest man in the class. In Wright's case, however, it was a mark of appreciation. Twenty-five dollars was voted to him, which he in vain tried to spend on a knife.

Wright was always looked upon as a philosopher, but more practical than speculative. "His practical philosophy seemed equal to any emergency; and no strange and unexpected circumstances ever excited him to any more vehement expressions than the utterance of his sole exclamatory oath, `By Zeus!' uttered with a tone of unmingled surprise." With his chosen few, and with them only, he was a brilliant conversationalist.