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From Nashville to Sparta, Tenn., and then a rough, tough ride up the mountain side, “rattling the bones over the stones” until at length we have climbed the Cumberland Plateau.  We arrive at no-where in particular, which is named Pleasant Hill.  Here are a neat church, which is both church and school, and a sightly building of two stories with a third under the mansard roof, which will accommodate forty boys.  A few houses are visible from the top of this building, but no one could guess where forty mountain boys and as many girls might be living.  Nevertheless they have been discovered, and it was none too soon.  Missionary Dodge did not locate in Pleasant Hill before the time.  He realized this.  He looked about him and looked up and down.  He saw things which were invisible.  He saw castles in the air.  It must be confessed that the office at Reade Street, fearing lest it might “trust the churches” too much, had not the faith which could take hold of these castles in the air and anchor them to the soil of Pleasant Hill; but Brother Dodge got his grapples out and pulled down a church building from the heavens.  Well done; now surely he should rest from his labors and give himself and us time to breathe.  No; a visible church only stimulated his faith, it did not satisfy it.  This church was a place in which he could read the eleventh chapter of Hebrews every Sunday.  The result was the “Hall” for young men and for the teachers.  Now we are in it and are glad.  The Massachusetts Principal gave us welcome, the Oberlin Vice-Principal endorsed it, while the Matron materialized the spirit of welcome in a way calculated to excite gratitude, from the fact that missionaries cannot live absolutely on faith.

Next the young men were introduced.  One of them was seized with undisguised curiosity to behold a minister whose theological system some institution had found it necessary to doctor.  It is, perhaps, the first instance on record in modern times where these semi-lunar fardels have been looked upon with respect and curiosity.  When “Brother Dodge” came, congratulations were in order over his Church, his School and his Hall, but he would have none of it.  He was seeing another building floating in the clouds, and could only talk of the invisible.  It will, however, soon be among things visible, for the missionary has his grapples out.  It is to be a Boarding Hall and Industrial Home for girls who will come into it and learn to live and to be.  “But, Pleasant Hill is not a town, it is not a village, it is only by courtesy a hamlet.  Where are your pupils?” “The woods are full of them and they will come from near and from far,” replies their young missionary of more than three score and ten years.  On Sunday, the church was filled; on Monday, the school was full; and our heart was full of thanksgiving that God had come to these mountain people, that hope would enter their lives and their cabins, and that these boys and girls would now step up in Christian manhood and womanhood.