sides of other mountains, and sometimes the quiet farms and still life of the valley. Part of his satisfaction was in the rough ascent, before which he was undaunted and in which he never faltered, in the bracing air of the heights, and in the sensation of animal vigor; part in the wide range of vision and the fuller life which seems to flow about one on those solitary summits. I can see him now, upon the top of Greylock, as he describes himself in an early letter, going away from the smoky tower and the groups of uproarious students, to a lonely rock looking off upon the broad view, and shouting forth, in the exultation of his spirits, the morning song which Milton puts into Adam's mouth, beginning, — "These are Thy glorious works, Parent of Good, It always did him good to shout. I never was with him under similar circumstances but that he would give expression to his excitement in one or two prodigious yells, after which the quieter thoughts and emotions would have their turn in a pertinacious silence. This shouting or singing aloud by himself was a favorite occupation; it was, to use a common simile, a way of letting off steam. I remember how, once in his Senior year, walking alone upon one of the Williamstown roads, no one in sight, he was bawling at the top of his voice, when suddenly, upon turning a corner, he came full upon the college President, who was as much entertained as David was confused at the encounter. From the very first he entered upon this hearty outdoor life. Indeed, he was so fresh in his enjoyment of it, so boyish in his way of engaging in it, that his friends were all the while kept amused by his freaks. The longer walks could only be taken on holidays; but the hills, which were at an easy distance from the college, afforded an opportunity for numerous short excursions. 'Flora's Glen, a wild ravine, and Stone Hill were his favorite haunts. On the latter he began to set rabbit and squirrel traps as soon as he had become fairly domiciled. He had rather meagre success, considering the pains he took; but that made no difference. Almost every day, alone or with a comrade, he would trudge up the steep hill to look after his traps; and when he did catch an animal, he made his friends. nearly as much interested as himself, by the contagion of his enthusiasm. His early letters always contain some notice of a hunt after rabbits, apples, or nuts, what new style of trap he meant to contrive, and how he had learned to skin his captives. He joined the Lyceum of Natural History, then in a most impoverished and unsteady condition; and although he never brought much scientific learning into the meetings, he had such a healthy enthusiasm that he was a valuable member of the society. His first winter in Williamstown quite intoxicated him, one might think. The long, blustering, and stormy season which shrivels up a good many students, and makes Williams' graduates shiver as they recal it, seemed to bring out all the glow of his nature. In those early days, with a sort of stubborn hardihood, he disdained great-coats, and never would wear them until the severity of two or three Williamstown winters and the sensitiveness of a changing physique forced him into them; he always displayed a ludicrous horror of them, as if they would make him effeminate. His classmates remember his grotesque appearance that Freshman win ter, as, wearing his boyish roundabout, but no coat, his feet encased in enormous India-rubber boots, his hands in great fur gloves, and his head smothered under a fur cap, he would clatter down West College staircase, dragging at his heels the sled of which he was so proud. His growth in character was favored not only by the wild and fascinating country, which called forth his instincts of freedom and gave force and direction to his nature, but also by separation from home and the consequent necessity for self-dependence. He was much younger in mind and experience than most boys of his age, and, in common with all who lead an instinctive life, had accepted with implicit confidence the guidance of his superiors. He was slow in assuming responsibility, even in minor matters of college experience; he felt no disposition to release himself from his accustomed dependence. In nothing was his inexperience more noticeable than in his absolute freedom from "knowingness." I take the word of one of the most observing of his classmates when I say that it was a thing rare and quite unexampled to find one who, like David, had spent his early days in the streets of Boston, and all of his youth in public schools, with almost unrestrained choice of associates, so incredibly ignorant of what is called "the world." Not long after entering college, some allusion was made, in the chat of a knot of students, when David was present, to a classmate who had been drunk the night before. Nothing so very astonishing to them in this, however else they might regard it; but David was aghast. "Drunk!" said he; "a fellow in college, and in our class, drunk! Why, I did not know that any one in college ever was drunk!" His incredulity must have been matched by that of his companions at his unheard-of simplicity. This is but a single example of his ignorance of evil, and also of his naïve frankness in admitting the igno rance. How much his home education and how much his semi-country life had served as safeguards against a familiarity with forms of evil, it is impossible to say; but it is most natural to refer his ignorance of the world to his own straightforward and transparent character, under the favoring influence of a religious training. His simplicity of nature would not invite, but rather check solicitations of evil; an education based upon firm principles of the highest morality fortified his natural security against gross temptation; and, finally, his whole-souled absorption in out-door life furnished an escape for his animal vigor. The same causes conspired to protect him, now that he was brought into more immediate contact with evil, and was also left more to his own control. Danger there was, and he drew a long breath in after-years as he considered what he had escaped. What he might have been, he could see in the wrecks about him of boys who had come up to college with much the same freshness that belonged to him, but who had not withstood the shock of evil communications. The students at Williams then numbered about two hundred and forty, distributed pretty equally among the four classes. The college formed a community by itself distinct from the village; and since it was so small a community, and so dependent upon its internal resources for comfort and pleasure, there was more mutual acquaintance than holds in larger colleges and in those near cities. Many knew not only their own class well, but a large portion of the upper or lower classes. The societies brought men together, and it was consequently a pretty compact community, in which each individual with difficulty remained aloof. The country element was dominant, and served to give a certain tone to the society there which it is hard exactly to describe. In part, a sturdy independence belonged to many of the countrymen, the result perhaps of an early necessity of self-reliance; a high estimate of the value of education; and a determination to make the most of college, giving a healthy tone to the life there. With this frequently was associated a pettiness and narrowness of conduct, a ridiculous. eagerness for small distinction, an incorrect understanding of what college could do for them, and a ludicrous exaggeration of the grandeur of the college equipments. All this was tempered by a certain infusion of city civilization, in the form of a generosity running too often into recklessness; a courtesy which is bred of intercourse with cultivated men and women, but which, in the weaker sort, became mere foppishness; an acquaintance, moreover, with the refinement of learning, a side rarely exposed to the country seeker after wisdom. Though a city-boy, David was strongly countryish in his inclinations. His taste, which led him to take pleasure in the worth of men, unaffected by their social culture, was confirmed here, and a habit induced of measuring men generally by a more liberal standard than refined society is apt to adopt. His intercourse with his college-mates threw him among those who were older and more accustomed to self-management. They were wonders of wisdom and |