a mighty chapeau
Like a storm-cap o'er the Alp.

Up and down these rooms the hero
Oftentimes would thoughtful stray,
Walking now toward the window,
Stalking then again away.

By the fireside, quaintly moulded
Oft his humid boots would lie;
And his queer surtout was folded
On some strange old chair to dry.

In the yard where now before me
Underclothes, wind-wafted hang
Waved the banners of an army;
Warriors strode with martial clang.

These things now are all departed,
With us on the earth no more,
But the chieftain, noble-hearted,
Comes to visit me once more.

In he comes without permission,
Sits him down before mine eyes,
Then I tremble and demnition
Curious thoughts within me rise.

Slow he speaks in accents solemn,
Life is all an empty hum,
Man, by adulation only
Can'st thou ever great become.

I ought perhaps to mention a young man of most brilliant
promise, an excellent scholar and a great favorite, who died
before the class graduated, on a voyage to the East Indies
which he undertook in the hope of restoring his health,--
Augustus Enoch Daniels. He left behind him one _bon mot_
which is worth recording. We were translating one day one
of the choruses in AEschylus, I think in the Agamemnon, where
the phrase occurs [Greek omitted], meaning "couches unvisited
by the wind," which he most felicitously rendered "windlass
bedsteads." Such is the vanity of human life that it is not
uncommon that some hardworking, faithful and bright scholar
is remembered only for one single saying, as Hamilton in the
House of Commons was remembered for his single speech. Another
instance of this is that worthy and excellent teacher of Latin
and Professor of History, Henry W. Torrey. He was an instructor
in college in our time, afterward left the college to teach
a young ladies' school and came back again later as a Professor.
I presume if any member of the class of 1846 were asked about
Torrey he would say: "Oh, yes. He was an excellent Latin
scholar, an excellent teacher in elocution and in history.
But all I remember of him is that on one occasion a man who
professed to be learned in Egyptian antiquities advertised a
course of lectures, one of which was to be illustrated by
unrolling from a mummy the bandages which had been untouched
since its interment, many centuries before Christ. The savant
claimed to be able to read the inscription on the cloth in
which