the dim shadowy forms of the past, the by-gone past. The breeze that
passes through the open window and fans the brow, might be mistaken
for the same playful zephyr that sported with our own silken locks in
childhood, as we stood before this same open window. The monotonous
hum of the school-room seems the same and the drowsy buzz of the
summer fly as it floats on azure wings brings to the ear a well
remembered sound, and we press our hand tightly upon our eyes and try
to think we are living over again years that are passed. It will not
do, there is a change--we must acknowledge that change. The teacher
who so long presided in this place, was a stern man, of commanding
figure, with a high, broad forehead and piercing black eyes, coal
black hair and beard, with rather a handsome countenance, although
nothing could ever provoke a smile upon it in school hours, and he
governed his pupils more by fear than love. But the lesson must be
perfectly committed and correctly recited, or the offending culprit
must fall under his severe displeasure, and this was a situation that
few in the school were willing to be placed in. I have heard of this
man's death, but in what manner or where I know not; but many are
the lessons I have heard fall from his lips which still live in my
heart--have had their impress upon the life, and will continue to
exist through the boundless ages of eternity. And now that the
thoughtlessness of youth has passed away, here, upon this spot, would
I offer a grateful tribute to his memory. Many others, too, occupied
this place, of whose destiny I am entirely ignorant, but yet remember
them with much affection.

One female teacher in particular, under whose instruction I sat six
summers in succession. Then she was young and healthful, and happy in
the bosom of her family; but now all have passed away save this one
surviving branch. She alone remains of her family, in feeble health,