The idea of remaining for the Commencement, was at once abandoned; short
visits, abrupt farewells, and a hasty preparation for the pilgrimage, were
my portion for the few days still left me, and Saturday, the 19th, was
determined upon as the day for leaving home. It would be evidence of gross
ingratitude to forget the kind wishes, tender good-byes, and many other
marks of attention, on the part of friends and acquaintances, which
characterized the parting hour. Both Literary Societies had passed
resolutions to turn out, and on the ringing of the bell at 6:30 a.m., all
assembled in the Chapel, and addresses were delivered.

Half an hour later, we left in procession for the depot, where we arrived
in time to exchange our last tokens of remembrance--cards, books, bouquets
&c., and shake hands once more.

While the train was moving away, the benedictions and cheers of a hundred
familiar voices rang upon the air, and waving handkerchiefs caught the
echoes even from the distant cupola of the now fast receding Normal School
buildings. A number of torpedoes that had been placed under the wheels of
the locomotive, had already apprised us that the train was in motion, and
would soon hurry us out of sight. During all this excitement of the
parting hour, which seemed to affect some so deeply, I was either looking
into the future, or contemplating the present, rather, from an _active_
than from a _passive_ standpoint; and, as a natural consequence, remained
quite tranquil and composed--my feelings and emotions being at a lower ebb
than they could now be, if the occasion would repeat itself. The idea of
making a tour through Europe and to the Orient, had been continually
revolving in my mind for many years; and now, that I saw the prospect open
of once realizing the happy dreams of my childhood, and the schemes of
early youth, I took no time for contemplating the dangers of sea voyages