22 Life of The 



progress and prosperity of that favourite institution, 

 and the tear would start unbidden to his eye, when 

 the new names that now filled the places of those he 

 loved so tenderly, were repeated, calling up to his 

 mind the truthfulness of the observation, that we 

 are but sojourners on this earth, where all is change. 

 Often have I been seated with him for hours, 

 forgetting all else, while we spoke of the men and 

 things there — of the little church away up upon the 

 mountain-side — of the beautiful valley that stretched 

 out in front of it from the base of the Blue-ridge and 

 extended away as far as the eye could reach — of the 

 graveyard and the friends of his that lay mouldering 

 there — of the cottage, and the garden, and the 

 grotto, and the ravine, bridged over by "Plunket's 

 folly" — of the crystal fountain bubbling up at the 

 mountain's base, pure, sparkling, and bright, and 

 distributing its liquid treasures — of the old wooden 

 college that has been long since removed and 

 replaced by the tall stone one, with its majectic 

 steeple, with its cross above the clouds; its terraces 

 and its trees, fringing their borders — of the hunting 

 grounds, and the rabbit dens and their trappers; — 

 of the little gardens of each student's industry, 

 nestled like birds' nests amid the tall tress upon the 

 mountain-side — of these and a thousand other topics 

 that may be readily imagined by any one who has 

 spent his college-years at Mt. St. Mary's. In this 

 regard for the memories of those years, we behold 

 how unchangeable were his affections. Once your 

 friend, he was "a friend indeed." 



