In the autumn of 1855 he entered the junior class of Jefferson College, at Canonsburg, Pennsylvania. In those days it was customary for students to be admitted further advanced as to enrollment than at present. I had myself preceded Mateer one year, entering as a sophomore in the same class into which he first came as a junior. One reason for this state of things was that the requirements were considerably lower than they now are; and they were often laxly enforced. Then, because the range of studies required was very limited in kind, consisting until the junior year almost exclusively of Latin, Greek and mathematics, it was possible for the preparatory schools to carry the work of their students well up into the curriculum of the college. Mateer had the advantage, besides, of such an excellent instructor as Professor Mercer, and of experience in teaching. He says: “I was poorly prepared for this class, but managed to squeeze in. The professor of Latin wanted me to make up some work which I had not done; but I demurred, and I recollect saying to him, ‘If after a term you still think I ought to make it up, I will do it, or fall back to the sophomore class.’ I never heard of it afterwards. I was very green and bashful when I went to college, an unsophisticated farmer’s boy from a little country academy. I knew little or nothing of the ways of the world.” As his classmate in college, and otherwise closely associated with him as a fellow-student, I knew him well. I remember still with a good deal of distinctness his appearance; he was rather tall, light-haired, with a clear and intelligent countenance, and a general physique that indicated thorough soundness of body, though not excessively developed in any member. When I last saw him at Los Angeles a few years ago, I could perceive no great change in his looks, except such as is inevitable from the flight of years, and from his large and varied experience of life. It seems to me that it ought to be easy for any of his acquaintances of later years to form for themselves a picture of him in his young manhood at the college and at the theological seminary. So far as I can now recall, he came to college unheralded as to what might be expected of him there. He did not thrust himself forward; but it was not long until by his work and his thorough manliness, it became evident that in him the class had received an addition that was sure to count heavily in all that was of importance to a student. I do not think that he joined any of the Greek letter secret societies, though these were at the height of their prosperity there at that time. In the literary societies he discharged well and faithfully his duties, but he did not stand out very conspicuously in the exercises required of the members. In those days there was plenty of “college politics,” sometimes very petty, and sometimes not very creditable, though not wholly without profit as a preparation for the “rough-and-tumble” of life in after