In 1862 he published a series of foreign letters in the _New York Independent_, which Horace Greeley told me he regarded as most remarkable productions.

During the summer of that year I was watching the sun rise from the summit of the Righi in Switzerland, and was accosted by a sandy-haired man in an old oilcloth overcoat who asked for some explanation about the mountain within our view.

At the foot of the Righi I fell in with him again, and was struck with his original and vigorous thought.

The same evening he marched into my room at the "Schweitzer-Hoff," dripping with the rain, and introduced himself as "Gilbert Haven." We ministered to the few Americans whom we could find in Lucerne, and held a prayer meeting on the Sabbath evening in Haven's room for our far-away country in her dark hour of distress.

On that evening began a friendship which waxed warmer and warmer until death sundered the tie for a little while; the same hand that sundered can reunite us.
I am under a strong temptation to give my reminiscences of many notable persons whom I was wont to meet at Saratoga, such as the urbane ex-President Martin Van Buren, and that noble Christian statesman, Vice-President Henry Wilson, and the cheery old poet John Pierpont, and the erudite Horatio B.Hackett, of Newton Theological Seminary and the level-headed Miss Catherine E.Beecher, and the gifted Queen of the great temperance sisterhood, Miss Frances E.Willard, and General Batcheler, the able American Judge, at Cairo, and that extraordinary combination of courage, orthodox faith, and brilliant platform eloquence the late Joseph Cook, of Ticonderoga.