Within a few years the Baltimore and Ohio railroad company have made great changes at Harper's Ferry, enough to alter its appearance very materially. In the summer of 1892 they commenced the cutting of a tunnel of over eight hundred feet in length through the spur of the Maryland Heights that projects over the old track near the railroad bridge. They also commenced at the same time the erection of stone piers to support a new bridge a little northwest of the old one. The course of the road bed in the town has also been changed, for the old trestling has been abandoned and the track has been laid across the eastern end of the old armory grounds and over a part of the site of John Brown's fort. The principal object of this change was to straighten the road and avoid the dangerous curves at the old bridge and also to do away with the perpetual expense of keeping the trestle work in repair. In consequence, the appearance of the place is greatly changed and not for the better, but, happen what may, the eternal mountains will remain, clothed with the verdure of spring and summer, the purple and gold of autumn, or the snowy mantle of winter, according to the season. The noble and historic rivers, too, will pour their allied waters through the awe inspiring chasm which, in the course of bygone ages, their united strength has cut through the gigantic barrier of the Blue Ridge. The Bald Eagle--king of the birds--will sweep in majestic curves around the turret pinnacles of the Alpine Heights or, poised on outspread wings, will survey his unassailable ancestral domain and, if in the garish light of day, the utter loneliness and wildness of the mountains oppress the imagination, the gloaming and the tender moonbeams will mellow the savage grandeur of the scene and invest it with a dreamy and mystical beauty to soften and enhance its sublimity. Besides, whatever may occur in the future, Harper's Ferry has in the past attained a fame of which even Fate itself cannot deprive it and, as long as poetry, romance and a love of the sublime and beautiful in Nature find a home in the human heart, tourists from all the continents and the isles of the sea will visit it, and the day will never come when there will be no enthusiastic lover of freedom to doff his hat at the shrine of John Brown. He was, anyway, a man of honest convictions who fought desperately and died fearlessly for the faith that was in him, and what hero has done more?