wilderness overhung their bleak
hiding-place, in an old inscription carved not without pain, in quaint
letters of other years, the stern and stirring old watchword:

'RESISTANCE TO TYRANTS IS OBEDIENCE TO GOD.'

Or, going further, we climbed Mount Carmel, and looked from its steep
cliff down into the solitary rock-strewn valley--

'Where storm and lightning from that huge gray wall,
Had tumbled down vast blocks, and at the base
Dashed them in fragments.'

Or went on to the Cheshire hillside, where the Roaring Brook, tumbling
down the steep ravine, flashed its clear waters into whitest foam, and
veiled the unsightly rocks with its snowy spray; or, perchance, in
cumbrous boat, floated upon Lake Saltonstall, hermit of ponds, set like
a liquid crystal in the emerald hills--an eyesore to luckless piscatory
students, but highly favored of all lovers of ice, whether applied to
the bottoms of ringing High Dutchers, or internally in shape of summer
refrigerators.

In the midst of these pleasant haunts and this fair city, lies a sloping
green of twenty or twenty-five acres, girt and bisected by rows of huge
elms, and planted with three churches, whose spires glisten above the
tall trees, and with a stuccoed State House, whose peeled columns and
crumbling steps are more beautiful in conception than execution. On the
upper side, looking down across, stretched out in a long line of eight
hundred feet, the buildings of the college stand, in dense shade. Ugly
barracks, four stories high, built of red brick, without a line of
beautifying architecture, they yet have an ancient air of repose, buried
there in the deep shade, that pleases even the fastidious eye. In the
rear, an old laboratory, diverted from its original gastronomic purpose
of hall, which in our American colleges has dispensed with commons, a
cabinet, similarly metamorphosed, and containing some magnificent
specimens of the New World's minerals; a gallery of portraits of
college, colonial and revolutionary worthies--a collection of rare
historical interest; a Gothic pile of library, built of brown sandstone,
its slender towers crowned with grinning, uncouth heads, cut in stone,
which are pointed out to incipient Freshmen as busts of members of the
college faculty; and a castellated Gothic structure of like material,
occupied by the two ancient literary fraternities, and notable toward
the close of the academic year as the place where isolated Sophomores
and