Aware that readers can not fail to notice the numerous de- fects in this little pamphlet, it is but just to state that it is not a class enterprise, but is gotten up by two or three members of the class on their own responsibility. They ask that it may not be taken as an index of the ability of the class, and also that some allowance be made for the time and circumstances under which it was compiled—between 9 and 7 o’clock of the morning after the funeral. EXERCISES PERFORMED AT THE BURIAL OF MECHANICS, BY THE JUNIOR CLASS OF UNION COLLEGE, JULY 13, 1863. In accordance with a custom recently inaugurated in this College, the Class of ’64 assembled to pay the last earthly tribute to Mechanics, with whom their intimate acquaintance has now ceased forever. On Monday evening, July 13th, at eleven o’clock, the funeral procession was formed under the supervision of Marshal James L. Seward, assisted by Aids M. M. Skiff and B. G. Smythe. The following was the ORDER OF PROCESSION. Brass Band, 18 pieces, led by Geo. Mayer. High Priest. Orator Poet. wn | = - Execrator. S : 3 eA Hearse. bd E - z Pall Bearers. o ler] EA o CO. AV. Class of "64 with torches, banner, and transparencies. 4 The evening was dark and cloudy, which added greatly to the general effect of the scene. Although it had been very rainy and unpleasant during the day, still a large number of spectators had assembled in the streets of the city, and despite the inclemency of the weather, during the afternoon, and the lateness of the hour, many ladies yentured out to greet the pro- cession as it passed along. Its appearance was unique and imposing. The marshals appeared upon horseback, uniformed, somewhat after the Au- strian style; the chief being distinguished from his aids, by a beautiful red plume. The band discoursed sad and solemn music, quite in keeping with the melancholy occasion. The hearse, a very tasty arrangement, prepared and furnished by Mr. JoHn BAME, was drawn by four white horses, appropriately decked and plumed. In behalf of the Class, we would express our thanks to Mr. Bame, for the interest he has manifested in the occasion, and the kind services he has rendered. Upon the hearse reposed the rich and magnificently decorated coffin. j On either side with down-cast (7) countenances and solemn (7?) mien, in their unique dresses of mingled white and black, marched the pall-bearers. Following these were the relatives of the deceased — the Class of "64. E The grotesque appearance of the bereaved individuals, wear- ing a Turk-like dress of pure white, and bearing flaming torches, gave a singularly impressive cast to the scene. ‘The banner had the following device: A skeleton standing amid the flames of Hell, and casting a huge book, entitled Mechanics, into the seething fires; while the instruments employed in illustrating this science were represented as falling into the same gaping abyss. Below was a fine sketch of his Satanic Majesty, wel- coming the new comer to his appropriate home. In a semicircle was the following: Sic SEMPER MACHINALIS ! At the top of the banner were three mechanical figures, with * 64" in the centre. At intervals in the procession were three 5 transparencies, bearing many comical and amusing pictures and inscriptions. We can speak of only a few. One, a perfect and exact portrait of our worthy Professor, is particularly worthy of attention. Another, representing the Devil teaching a class in his own dominion with * The Future of Mechanics,” was finely executed. The banner and transparencies were gotten up by the ** Com- mittee” themselves and reflect great credit upon their ability and efforts. We opine they can not be excelled. Others bore appropriate inscriptions, such as “8S. Machinalis Mortuus-est. Gaudeamus !” ‘64. Union College. ‘ Per Aspera ad Astra? ”’ etc. One, representing a * KO W,” had “ Te quoque Brute pr After marching through the principal streets of the city, the procession passed up Union street to the college Campus, where the funeral rites were performed in the following order: ODE BY THE CLASS CHOIR. Why do we mourn, why do we fear Mechanics! early doom? We are all pilgrim strangers here, Descending to the tomb. His form no more excites our fear, So horrid, ghastly, grim, Mechanics now is on his bier, But then the beer's on him. He's gone with lever, wedge and screw, To Pluto's dark domain; We pray his phiz we ne'er may view, Nor see his like again, In Hades now there's tumult dire, All hands have got the blues ; The younger imps from trying friars, Have gone to trying screws. Next came the 6 PONTIFICALIS CEREMONIA — By Geo. AgTHUR. The Pontifex, or High Priest, was arrayed in the robes of his office, and had, suspended from his breast, a huge “ &. B. K." key, emblematic, undoubtedly, of the future of the class. The part was finely written, well read, and received with marked favor by the audience. It contained a rich vein of wit, sar- easm, and humor. After this the band rendered one of their peculiarly striking and melancholy pieces : when GRAVE REMARKS — Bv Cuas. J. Novzs, were offered. This oration was one of the most finished and highly Class-ical productions to which we have had the pleasure of listening. It abounded in apt comparisons, and displayed infinite richness of imagination and force of expression, and was received with such marked demonstrations of favor as left . no doubt as to its real merits. The choir then chanted this beautiful tribute to the de- parted : MUSICA SOLLENNIS. Mechanics that is taught of! And is full of |trouble. Jack is for two terms. It is served up like a tough But it vanisheth away beefsteak, and is crammed down |like a shadow and is for- |gotten. Glory be to the Prof. snd|to the Prex. |And to the class of|sixty-four. As it was when we were fresh, is now an shall be, when we are|seniors. World without|bores. Amen Next in order was the POEM — By James Davis, JR. We feel that this effort, on the part of our Class Poet, was well worthy of the occasion, and of the Class of ‘“’64” It was finely written ; and contained richly portrayed and sug- gestive points, recounting our term's experiences, and pieturing a brilliant future for the one we mourn. At the close of the poem, the Choir again favored us with a beautiful ode — 7 CANTUS MASTORUM. Come swell the song in longest tones, We feel a load ta’en off our breast, As here we lay Mechanics’ bones, Beneath the turf, their final rest ; One last dirge to Mechanics’ ghost, One mournful dismal long drawn howl, Thank of the two the devil most, That we at last have made a rowl. Here with Mechanics we confine All ills that haunt a Junior's soul; And here we fill with ruddy wine, To senior year the flowing bowl; Cast in the dirt without delay, We’er on our final Junior bum, When morning breaks, as Seniors gay We'll wag our compound pendulm. Next came the MALEDICTION — By D. S. Crump. With regard to this production, the following extract from the Schenectady Star and Times of July 14th, speaks for itself: “The ‘Damnator Maximus’ of Mr. Crumb was a horribly grim spectacle, but done in the finest style, reminding one of the Hamletian ghost of Shakspeare. We thought we were indeed near his Lordship, Satan, when we saw the flame and smoke. * * * * * The literary merit of the piece, we must candidly say, surpassed that of ‘’63.’” Before the coffin was covered by the verdant sod, the follow- ing ode, bespeaking our freedom, was sung: CANTUS EXONERATORUM. To the solemn tricks of Mechanics We bid farewell forever, To the line and the sine and the plane incline, And the confounded lever ; The problems bred in the water’s head, Breed no more pain in ours; But we shout a stave o’er gravity’s grave, And we bury a power of powers. Cuonvs — To the solemn tricks, &c. His screw was loose, his wedge no use, Reversed was his metacenter, His tender sucking pump was stuck, And his horse power off on a canter, His wheel was spoked, his siphon choked, His force pump valves were sleeping, Then Mechanies gave his last kicks, And there was little weeping. Cuorus— To the solemn tricks, &c. Now Mechanies has measured styx, His sticks no more we'll measure ; The barometers bore shall bore us no more, Nor the dirty water's pressure, For here we fix dead Mechanics, Let none of his whereabout tattle, Till in gifted ear of the Sophs next year, His old dry bones shall rattle. Cuorvus— To the solemn tricks, &c. While the grave was being filled up, the band discoursed a mournful dirge. The singing was conducted by ArxEx. Da- VIDSON, and reflected the utmost credit upon his skill, taste, and musical ability. The odes were written by members of the Class. The first two being composed by Ezra T. Carr. The chant and last, by ALEX. DAvIDsoN. Our marshal has fully realized to us the high opinion we have ever entertained of his abilities as a leader. We doubt not his class-mates will long remember his valuable serviceg upon that occasion; destined to be one of the most lasting, and prominent of our collegiate experiences. Over the remains stands a handsome and tasty monument’ B. bearing the following inscription : | IN PERPETUAM MEMORIAM Scientiz Machinalis, M. T. Que Judicata et Tramissa est. AB JUNIORE CLASSE, LXIV. MULTIS VARIISQUE PERFUNCTA LABORIBUS CUM Orci lemuribus, terribilibus, peragrave frustra quaerens intercapedinem molestie. MDCCCLXTII. Mortuus est;— quid non tempus imminuit ? Jam O, Miserique Sophomores resurrexit ; Hiemis frigiditate ille perrumpit Acheronta, Kt vestram inertiam diligentia veniet contra ! (Translation.) IN LASTING MEMORY OF MECHANICS, CHIEF OF BORES, Who has been judged, and sent by the Junior Class of 764, after having performed many and various labors, to wander among the terrible shades of Orcus, in vain seeking a respite from trouble. 1863. He is dead. What will not time o’erthrow? Soon, O miserable Sophs., he will arise again ; In winter’s cold he will burst through Acheron, And your idleness by diligence restrain. 10 PONTIFICIS MAXIMI SERMO. Hear my words, O ye disciples of JoHn; and give ear unto me, ye that mourn for Mechanics. That which is born of nature is good, and vanisheth not; lo, it is eternal, and endureth forever. But that which is born of genius is of few days, and passeth away. It cometh forth like a briar bush, and is plucked up and destroyed; it withereth away also, and continueth not. Thus, O, Mechanics, it hath been with thee! For it came to pass in the land of Dutchdom that there was a great dearth of wisdom; and the inhabitants thereof were afflicted much. Verily hath it been said, the ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master’s crib; but the people of Dutchdom were an ignorant people, and knew not anything. They knew not of the living forces, nor of the air, nor of moving objects, nor of things at rest. Yea, they had lost their equilibrium! Then it happened in those days, that there lived a great wise man in Dutchdom. He was a Captain, and marshaled many hosts; and his name was Isaac. Isaac was a good man, and he loved his people; and when he saw the pest which had befallen them, he was sorely grieved. Then he set about to cure his people; and he prescribed for them in many laws. And when he had made his laws, he saw thatthey were good ; and he gathered them together, and they made a great book. And when he was done, he called unto him John, a great high priest who lived in the land, and shewed him his work. And John saw it, and he knew that it was good. Then Isaac spake unto John, saying, Go up on the Hill, and gather unto you a great multitude, the young men of all the land, and teach them.my laws, whereby they may be cured of their diseases. And when they have learned my laws, bid them 1l go and proclaim them throughout all the land to all the iaha- bitants thereof. For thus it seemeth good in my sight. Then John went up on the Z/i//, and there were gathered unto him a great multitude from all the land around about him. Yea, came they unto him from Hubtown, and from Dorp, and from the Metropolis, and from the Queen City; and it came to pass that he had many disciples. But these young men took not quick of knowledge. They were thick of skull; and their hearts were waxed gross; and their ears were dull of hearing; and their eyes they had closed ; and they were afflicted with all manner of diseases. And when many classes had come, and all of them had gone away ignorant of the teachings of the great high priest, then the last class came, of which ye are, O, my hearers. j And when they shewed much tact, and a great love for Mechanics, then John said unto them, ye are my disciples in whom I am well pleased. Now Jsaac, who ruled over them was a jealous captain; but when he had heard of the well-doing of the younger disciples of John, he was much pleased, and marvelled, saying, Verily I say unto you, that many blockheads have desired to see those things which ye see, and have not seen them; and to hear those things which ye hear, and have not heard them. Then after he had spoken these words, he went away ; but he appeared again unto certain of them in the form of a dream, and told them to go up to the sanctuary of the great high priest, and offer up sacrifices and prayer to atone for the iniquity of the past, and for the evils of those who had been there before them. And these dreams were whispered amongst all the disciples; and when darkness covered the face of the earth, they went up, and took with them unto the sanctuary of the great high priest a huge white heifer. And it came to pass that the heifer was the great high priest's; and went she up without the knowledge of her owner. And when the disciples had prayed and propitiated their lord 12 by many sacrifices, they went away and left the heifer in the sanctuary. And it came to pass when John arose in the morning, he went out to look for his heifer; and he did search diligently among the goats, and the swine, and the bulls, and round all the precincts of the sanctuary; and, lo, be found her not. Then it happened that he went up into his sanctuary to meet his disciples; and, behold! he findeth there his heifer. Then it came to pass that there was great rejoicing amongst all the disciples. For the Hil/ did shake with glad shouts; and the sanctuary was perfumed with sweet odor; and the fogs did flow with milk and — honey. (? ) And after that RAMS were offered up; and there was great rejoicing. But the wrath of John was kindled against his disciples ; and he cursed them, and withheld from them his wit; whereby his disciples were much grieved. And after that, he lead them up to the temple of Isaac; | and taught them there wonderful things. But he had got to hate his disciples, and was vexed with them. And when certain of them tried to propitiate him, he scowled at them, and became still more enraged. And there was strife between him and them; and then, O, Mechanics, there was enmity between them and thee. And John saw that there was enmity; and he cursed them, saying: Cursed be the transgressors of my Jaws. Cursed be the man that is slothful, and neglects Mechanics. Cursed be the man that drove away my cow. Cursed be ye that offered up the rams. Cursed be the /amb (Lamb) that bleateth for mercy. Cursed be the noise (Noyes) that disturbeth my peace. Cursed be Bartemus, that astonisheth us with his wonderfully wise answers. : Cursed be the how/ (Howell) that I i» hate; for it is mour :- ful and melancholy. RE ESE Ta ART ire Tne are er NL sD CD RE 13 Cursed be Thomas, who is a sober youth, and attendeth well to his duties. Cursed be them all; unto them naught (0) shall be given. And from that day, O, Mechanics, thou hast been deserted, despised and damned of us all. As the sheep are separated from the goats, and the ram from the sheep, so thou hast been separated from us, and thy soul from thy body. Both shall be consigned to the grave. The body in the grave shall perish; but thy soul shall be raised up at the last day; and it shall haunt those who come after us. O, Sophs, beware of the terrors that await you! O, Fresh- men, sporting in the innocence of your infancy, ye know not the troubles that ye shall find ! Mechanics — vagabond of vagabonds, pest of the studious, corrupter of the youthful mind, and infamous disturber of sweet dreams — shall appear unto you in hideous form! But to us, O, Mechanics, thou art lost. Into the dominions of the Devil thou shalt this night descend. But Hell itself shall give up its prey; and, though dead, thou shalt rise again. The Sophs will ransom thee from the power of the grave. They will redeem thee from death. O, Death, they will be thy plagues ! O, Grave, they will be thy destruction! fum, hati GLb ty C jay d te F 14 ORATIO From remotest time burial rites have been a fixed thing in the order of human events. History exhibits all nations — savage and eivilized — joined hand in hand in the payment of tribute to the departed. To whatever clime we turn; on what- ever shores we land; whatever skies bend above us; whatever landscape lies around us — on every hand we behold monumen- tal piles and waves of green, bespeaking the bones of the dead. Wander to Italy’s classic shore, linger where the *' Eternal City " towered from her throne of hills, visit Greece the mother of sages and the nurse of arms, climb the Alpine heights, with their helmets of eternal ice, — anywhere, everywhere, death's pale shaft points heavenward, and with silent eloquence utters its eulogistic story. Penetrate even, the wilds which nestle at the foot of the Rocky Mountains, or stretch in luxuriant undu- lations adown the Pacific slopes beyond, and here and there we see the Red-man’s roughly-fashioned mound of turf and stone. Beneath the fiery blaze of the equatorial sun, and in the land of perpetual snow, where the Arctic night holds her solitary reign, and Aurora lights her crown of fire, death reaps his har- vest and the grave-yard presents its motionless billows. **'Tran- siens" is Nature's universal anthem. With pomp and ceremony each nation bears its honored to their final resting places, and over their tombs the poet utters his loftiest strains, the orator pronounces his grandest eulogy, and the bard tunes his lyre to sweetest song; while some Phi- dias, with art divine, is summoned to chisel his virtues in en- during marble, and the historian traces his memory in letters of undying fame. Nor are the ancients our superiors in bestow- ing the honors due from the living to the dead. We yield to no age in homage at the shrine of fallen grandeur, or departed worth — bow to no people in the beauty with which we clothe the sacred repositories of humanity’s crumbling dust. Richer than any Hesperides, with no dragon at its entrance, lovelier than any Thessalian vale of Tempe, are these gardens of 15 church-yard marble, to which Friendship is prone to turn, and where Love delights to linger ; — more sacred far than any Delos, and grander in their associations than the ancient Mau- soleum, with its encircling columns. And yet no such beauties are strewn about us to-night. No towering marble lifts its splendor crowned top, telling of grand. eur and of wealth — no hallowed reminiscences bespeak a past full of by-gone achievements, or portend a future of historic glory. Our * Campus" is an humble one — unlike the Esquilinus, its soll was not bequeathed by a Roman Senate. No gorgeous train, — no golden feretrum — no sacrifice — its odors wafted to the star-lit dome of midnight, greet us. No laudation of a Pericles — no eulogy of a Demosthenes — no panegyric of an Isocrates, — pronounces his praise; but here in a spot doubly endeared by the sacred reminiscences which .uster about it, and at an hour, when all nature seems hushed to repose — when the pulse of fevered strife is still, the brain of selfish interest has ceased its throbbing, and the pale night watchers alone keep vigil as they tread their silent rounds — we bury him in soil consecrated alike by thoughts of the Past and visions of the Future, and pay our last tribute to his memory and his virtues. Still the occasion will not soon be forgotten. When years shall have gone, and others come here to reénact this scene, we shall turn in fancy to our college days, and thinkin silence and in sadness of those with whom we buried our “ hardest" relic of Juniority. We shall seem to live this hour anew and the deep- ening shadows. on life's wall — sketehed there by Time's cease- less pencil — will stand out as realities, bidding the to-day yield to yesterday, like leafless autumn lingering in the lap of early Spring. For us S. Machinalis is no more ; in the glimmering of life's evening, while his declining sun seemed retiring but to welcome in another day, he has gone down earth's “ inclined plane" and passed into the “equilibrium” of the grave. With ‘’63’s ” collegiate year he departs — death takes him from our daily walks, and we shall look in vain for one to fill his place. Yes, 16 He’s dead, and our weary labors oer, We pray to Hades’ God that ever more Our lives be spared another such a ** bore!” Still, would my feeble tongue could do justice to the hour, the hero or the occasion ; would some muse might inspire me with a Nestor’s eloquence to picture in truest characters his many virtues. No ordinary circumstance has transpired, no common one is taken from us, death’s signet has touched a shining mark. * Pallida Mors zquo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas Regumque turres " — sings the poet, and how “ diteraral a translation " (not BoHN’s) is the present hour!