Page 8. Through the pines' cathedral arches.

In the rear of the College buildings is a native growth of stately pines, ever green-and to the imaginative, ever whis

pering

Come "mingle with the roar

Of the pine-forest, dark and hoar!"

Page 47. WILLIAM B. WAlter.

We find several poems of Mr. Walter, published soon after his graduation. The pieces contained in this book are from a volume published in 1821 and dedicated to the Rev. John Pierpont.-Particulars of his history we have not learned.

Page 66. CHARLES W. UPHAM.

CHARLES WOOD UPHAM, son of Timothy Upham, Esq. of Portsmouth, N. H.,-was born Sept. 9, 1814, and received his name, in part, in memory of a gallant friend of his father -Lieut. Col. Wood of the Engineers-who was killed near General Upham, at the Sortie from West Erie, Sept. 17.-He died in December, 1834—having just entered on his twentyfirst year. We make the following extract from an obituary notice, published soon after his decease." There was much in his childhood to cherish the highest hopes with regard to him in the minds of his parents and friends. He showed an ardent love for knowledge, and while he mastered with singular facility the elementary studies of the school, he made himself conversant with many standard works in English literature. He at this period manifested a great fondness for the fine arts, particularly for painting; and for several years the pencil and the brush were the almost uniform companions of his leisure hours. His juvenile success gives ample proof that time and diligence only were wanting to have made him an eminent artist; but when he felt himself called to a higher and holier profession, from a sense of duty, yet not without a severe struggle, he denied himself the chosen occupation of his boyhood. In 1829, he entered the Freshman Class in Bowdoin College, and shortly after select

ed the Christian ministry as his profession. While in College, he maintained a high rank in his class, distinguished himself particularly as a writer, and gained the lasting esteem and affection both of his instructors and his fellow-pupils. At the close of his Sophomore year, he left College to become an assistant in an extensive female Seminary in Canandaigua, N. Y. He had, in the intervals of his duty in school, pursued the studies of his class, and was expecting to rejoin them at Brunswick early in their Senior year. But in the autumn of 1832, by the upsetting of a stage, he sustained an injury of the spine, which, though not perceived at the time, shortly after occasioned a severe illness, and rendered the whole residue of his life a period of weakness and intense suffering.

"He had few friends, for he sought few; but these he bound to himself by unreserved confidence and by a selfforgetting sympathy. All the talents and virtues of this lamented young man were rendered doubly interesting, as sanctified by Christian piety. And as one by one the ties that bound him to life were sundered, he seemed to cling with a still firmer faith and a still more joyous hope to the promise of the life to come."

It is due to the subject of this notice, to remark in regard to his poetical effusions, that they were never intended for the public eye. Several articles written for his own recreation or the gratification of friends-found their way into the public prints after his decease. From these we have made our selection-and when it is recollected they were written at the early age of about eighteen years-we only the more regret that he has passed the 'returnless bourne.'

Page 75. Peal out the Pandean's thrilling strain.
Pandean is the name of the College Band.

Page 76. FREDERIC MELLEN.

Frederic Mellen, son of Hon. Prentiss Mellen, was gradu. ated in 1825.-The following extracts are from an obituary,

written at the time of his death.-" With a native character of great suavity, simplicity, and instinctive correctness of moral sentiment, an intuitive perception of poetic beauty, and peculiar quickness of apprehension and susceptibility to the influences under which he was reared from infancy, and imbibing at home the purest principles of virtue, he seasona bly received the advantages of an education at Bowdoin College, which nourished a love of classic and polished literature, and enabled him to cultivate those powers, with which he was gifted, with an upward aim to excel in whatever belonged to mental or professional accomplishment. A pervading taste for one favorite art, early discovered, and displaying a peculiar aptitude for the finest combinations of forms and colors-the art of painting-obtained the mastery of his pursuits and purposes; and he bade fair, by the proofs of original effort, to arrive at distinction in the most elegant branches of this polite department. He also possessed a very delightful and delicate poetic talent. A number of gems have been preserved, among the choicest and sweetest which grace the Annuals, which would form a pleasing circlet on the now pale brow, upon which the blooming wreath of youthful hope has untimely perished. He had a short time previ ous to his death, removed to a sphere more propitious to the cultivation of his favorite pursuits, and the interest of his friends was awakended to his merited success. But his monument is, alas! to be marked by the broken column; and the blighted flower of his manly promise is watered, but cannot be revived by the tears of friendship and affection."

Page 140.

Still are the lips all eloquent,

That charmed our raptured ears, &c.

Ogilvie, the subject of this poem was a Scotch nobleman who travelled in the United States, some twenty or thirty years since, distinguished for his oratorical powers.

NOTES.

Page 154. FRANCIS BARBOUR.

179

Francis Barbour, son of Joseph Barbour, Esq., of Gorham, was graduated in 1830, and afterwards pursued the study of Law, and still later that of Medicine. Not satisfied however with these pursuits, he determined to devote himself to the art of Painting, for which he had an early taste. He visited Boston and New York, to receive instruction in his favorite pursuit; but unwilling to endure the drudgery imposed on the beginner, he returned to Gorham to pursue his chosen art by himself. And although he lived but a few years to prosecute his labors, he has left in his portraits and other paintings, evidences of no common genius. It is a remarkable fact that three of the deceased "Poets," discovered a more than ordinary taste for Painting.

66

Mr. Barbour is remembered by his college friends and other acquaintances, as gentlemanly in his deportment and graceful in his manners;-generous, high-minded, and honorable in his intercourse with his fellow men; independent in thought, word, and action," and at the same time governed by "that kindness and good sense that never allowed his independence to degenerate into obstinacy."

He passed slowly and silently into the grave. His disorder, consumption, did not wholly interrupt his studies until the day of his death. On the preceding day he was engaged upon a portrait which he left unfinished.

Mr. Barbour died at his father's residence, March 1, 1839 -Et. 28.

BENJAMIN B. THATCHER.

Benjamin Bussey Thatcher, youngest son of Hon. Samuel Thatcher, was born in Warren, Maine, Oct. 8, 1809. He was graduated in 1826-before he was seventeen years of age. And after a short career of distinguished success in the paths of Literature, his chosen profession,-he died in Boston, July 14, 1840, in the faith of the Gospel.

Unable, from the state of his health, to prepare any thing particularly for this book, he directed us to several articles from which to make a selection. "Weep not for the Dead," and "The Last Request," will be read with peculiar interest, now that their author is no more. Of equal beauty, and disclosing in a similar manner his yearnings for the " upper life," are his "I would not live alway," and "Twilight Musings," the latter prepared for the press only the day before his death.

While the surviving mourn that he so early perished from among living men, we trust the departed is realizing the consolatory truth of his own lines :

"Nor fell decay, nor cankering sin, (the blight upon our rose,) May mar, 'mid all its loveliness, that land's divine repose; But God will wipe these weeping eyes, these mysteries dispel, And Love forget forevermore, the sorrowing Farewell!"