While others hailed in distant skies the glories of the Union
He only saw the mountain bird stoop o'er his Old Dominion.

How vividly the picture comes to me now (never to be effaced) of a
learned professor in one of Virginia's highest schools, himself
three-score years and ten, a soldier of two wars, as he led the way
through a quiet Virginia town on horseback, followed by two sons,
distinguished ministers of the gospel, and they in turn by a younger son
and the grandson of the leader, with a goodly train of friends, amid the
blasts of horns and baying of hounds, who followed, eager for the chase
among the beautiful hills which surrounded the town of Lexington, even
as the mountains stand "round about Jerusalem."

Religion--the duty of man to his Creator, not sectarianism--was
scrupulously taught, and Sunday morning found the family alive in
preparations for attending religious service at Zion or Trinity, as it
might happen to be the first or the fourth Sunday of the month. From
this duty none were exempt from the least to the greatest. The pastor
was the friend on whom all troubles both temporal and spiritual were
cast, and his visits were long remembered and talked of in the life of
each family. Deference to his wishes and reverence for his character
were well-nigh universal.

A man he was to all the country dear,
And passing rich with forty pounds a year;
Remote from towns he ran his godly race,
Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change his place.

Unskillful he to fawn, or seek for power,