Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1870-07-14

are fresh to-day.
I In the autumn of 1S4S 1 returned from
E sojourn in the lead mines and piner,
3 of Wisconsin. After visiting home an,
: spending a few weeks with my parents
E l came TO Wooster to consult an oil,
t Irish uncle of mine, about boarding
s with him during the winter and attend
| ing the Academy, at which had spen
three sessions before going west, intend
ing to go back to tue lumber region
5 again, in the spring. My unci
/ was pleased with my proposed s2arcl
: after knowledge, as every sensible uucl
will be when his green and awkward
nephew proposes going toschool. "Bpt,
, said he, 'yuu had better go to New
!, Athens to College. I told >.Brinkerhof of
, and my son Boyd" said he4 "that th,
: Academy here was d very good school
but then l thought they needed littl'
polishing, and had better go to college
and / think you need a. little polishing
as bad as they, and you had better go t.
college too" And having a very pain
full conviction that the old man Wa;
about right as to my great need, | con
Il cluded to go to college, and soon | haG
myself and trunk in the stage numbering
over the Hills of Holmes, Tuscarawa:
and Harrison, making my way to the
seat of learning.
i It was late in the afternoon when we
arrived in Cadiz. But late as it was
and muddy as it was, flor it was about
the first of Dec.) I could not think oi
stopping for the night short of the OBJ
ject of my desire, and the goal of my
Journey. So hired an old man Il can't
now recall his name) to haul me and my
trunk seven miles over the country 10
New wAthens-a very serious undertaking
then, at that time of day and season OF
the year. And what ride we had, my
countrymen. 1t was out of one long
deep mudhole, into another longer and
deeper, and down one long steep hill
only to climb another longer and steep
er, until the mud seemed to have no
bottom, and the hill no top. AT length
after what seemed to me an awful long
time, and after having endured indis-
cribable agony of soul for fear rofsticking
in the mud, or stalling on the hills,
when we had made the top of a tremen-
dous ridge. 1 ventured toinquire of my
driver, in the language of the dying
girl, are we almost there? Imagine my
horror when he replied in very un-
sympathetic tone: why, we're not
three miles from Cadiz yet. My heart
sunk within me. Hope gave up the
ghost, and | was almost speechless, the
remainder of the journey. But as the
poet says: 1.-The day drags through
though storms keep and the sun and
hearts will break, yet broken live on"
So 1 survived, aud in a kind of mute
despair, watched the old horse and
clumsy vehicle, like wonderful snake
dragging its slow length along" At
last when night had spread her curtains
of darkness over hills and vale and the
habitations of men, we slowly and sui
IenIy wheeled our way into the long
looked for town of New Athens. After
supper at the hotel on the ridge, by the
Methodist church, | inquired for Mrs.
Mahoods, at whose house my friends,
Brinkerhoff Bruce and Laggart, were
stopping, and by dint of caution, and
help of friendly candles that sent their
feeble rays out of window, here and
there, and cast a sickly glare upon the
face of the great deep" of mud, picked
my way in safety to the room of my
former friends and companions, and
there with their cheerful fire and more
cheerful faces beaming upon me, | soon
forgot the perils of the way to College.
Next morning after breakfast, my
kind friends who had been to College
for month, undertook to guide me to
some of the places of interest about the
town. We went amongst other points,
to the top Of the ridge, in father McCOn-
nel's field above the Methodist Church
from which eminence we had delight
full view of the country to the east Of us,
and of the country to the west of us, and
of the village, and plains, and hills, to
the south of us. It was to me a kind of
Pisgah's top from which [ beheld New
Athens, the seat of Franklin College,
the literary land of promise to which all
my journeying in the wilderness had
led me. The intellectual Canaan, the
land flowing with milk and honey of
mathematical, scientific. and classic lore.
To a superficial observer the impress
sion would have been deep and lasting
that if a green student could be polished,
like a ploughshare by pushing Through
mother earth in plastic condition.
New athens was the place to do it in.
But time would fail ME to tell of the
ups and DOWNS the joys and sorrows Of
College life. Neither can enter Jeffer-
son society again to mingle in the intel
iectuai conflicts and to experience anew
the triumphs and discomfitures of the
years that are gone.
Suffice it to say, that my two years
under the fostering care of Franklin, in
the village of New Athens, were among
the happy years the past. They went
by swiftly and pleasantly, and trust
profitably, and in the Autumn OF lSo0,
fourteen young men were graduated,
and received their diplomas-or in the
classic language ofstudents their sheep
skins"
Here is one Of those diplomas, a veri-
table sheepskin, twenty years older
than when worn by its first owner, with
the image and likeness of New Athens,
and Franklin College in the foreground,
as you see-holding it up.
On this side I have the names OF my
College classmates, and the autographs
of most of them, given the evening OF
commencement day. Have patience
while call the roll of my comrades of
the literary campaign twenty years ago.
The speaker then gave history OF the
members of his class.
Rev. DIR. J. B. Johnston, of st. Clairs-
Vile, Ohio, delivered Historical ad-
dress, giving a narrative OF the early
Reminiscence of Franklin College,
which was listened to. with marked at
tention. The speaker said:. After
wears of strife betwixt the Academies of
Cadiz and Alma of New Athens, the
latter obtained charter for College, |
and was organized April 5th, 1925, un,,
der the name Of Alma College, and
called Franklin" The
members of the first Board were Rev.
Jno. Walker, Rev. Salmon Cowles
John McCracken, John Wyley, james
Campbell, David Campbell, John Trim
BILE, Jonn Whan, Daniel Brokaw, Alex
ander McNary, Alexander Hammond,
and John Rea.
At the first meeting, Rev. William
McMillen, d. D., was elected Principal;
and John Armstrong, Prof. of Mathe-
matics. The former on salary of $500,
and the latter in tuition of his classes,
together with any surplus tuition that
might accrue.