tance of about three miles, to the top of the mountain. Then word came that it was to be taken to Asheville; and the men of Buncombe took it up and carried it there.
Not quite a year afterward, in June, 1858, the body was exhumed from the graveyard of the Presbyterian church in Asheville, and was carried again, this time with formal ceremonies, and a procession of citizens, large considering the character of the march, to the top of the mountain, where it was laid in the earth, within a few feet of the famous balsam tree. A funeral discourse was pronounced by Bishop James H. Otey, D. D., of Tennessee, one of Prof. Mitchell's first pupils, and an address in vindication of Prof. Mitchell's claims to have the mountain named after him was delivered by President Swain. It is worthy of remark that the first class taught by Prof. Mitchell in the university was represented at the ceremonies, in the persons of Bishop Otey and Dr. Thomas H. Wright, of Wilmington, and the last class by Mr. J. W. Graham and his own son. A monument, twelve feet high, in the material known as white bronze, was erected over the grave in 1888.
The question of the name of the mountain appears to have been decided by the United States Geological Survey in 1881-'82, which, adopting the final designations for the peaks of this range, gave Prof. Mitchell's name to this one.
Prof. Mitchell was a Presbyterian minister of the Presbytery of Orange, Synod of North Carolina, and was styled, in the memorial resolutions passed by the synod, probably the most learned man that had ever lived in the State; was a regular preacher in the college chapel and the village church; and was the college bursar, a justice of the peace, a farmer, a commissioner for the village of Chapel Hill, and at times its magistrate of police. He was known as a skillful and conscientious professor, and vigilant, long-suffering, firm, and mild as a disciplinarian. Believing that prevention of the ills of a college life was better than having to cure them, he was watchful to guard the students against falling into error. When offenses were committed, he would try to present the nature of his conduct to the culprit in its true light, and, when punishment had to be inflicted, to select such a method as would appeal to his better feelings and open the way to a return to sound views. He loved to help others, and he was a well-grounded believer in revelation. He was extensively known among the mountaineers, who all had a remarkably warm affection for him, and the interest that was aroused among them by the circumstances of his disappearance was still "warmly alive," and the event was still a topic of conversation among them, as late as the end of 1889.