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Stanford University, Feb. 3, '98

My dear Mama:

This is the third of February, an insignificant day in the shortest month of the year. Unimportant as it is I honor it with special reverence. It marks the completion of my 19th. year, and ushers in my 20th. My childhood seems away back a century ago, yet it is less than a score of years when you first taught me the infant prayer "now I lay me-". Time has imperceptibly hurried me on out of a squalling infancy into impetuous youth, and from boyhood to the more serious preparation for life as a student has been but a step. Already I am joining hands with the future - and can feel the rushing waters of that storm into which in a few years I shall hurl myself to sink or swim, to live or die, to survive or perish. Even now I can feel the approach of the vast multitude in which the struggle is keen and to the