■ I IF- I ■ ■ I TTb R. A RY OF THE UNIVL-R5ITY OF ILLINOIS c Un32uU 1832 ■ NOTICE: Return or renew all Library Materialsl The Minimum Fee (or each Lost Book is $50.00. The person charging this material is responsible for its return to the library from which it was withdrawn on or before the Latest Date stamped below. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons for discipli- nary action and may result in dismissal from the University. To renew call Telephone Center, 333-8400 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN AN / Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2014 http://archive.org/details/addressonfiftietOOwest_0 AN ADDRESS ON THE Fiftieth Anniversary OF THE CLASS OF 1832, Pakts of which were read at a Class Meeting at Union College, June 27, 1882. CHARLES E. WEST. Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulci Lectorem delectando pariterque monendo. —Horace. BROOKLYN, K Y.: TREMLETT & CO., PRINTERS, 826-330 FULTON STREET. 1882. Copyright. 1883, By CHARLES E. WEST. c \ 3 &K APOLOGY. Of what value is a book without a preface f And what is a preface but a postcript f In a letter, it forms its conclusion and is put last ; in a book, it is the introduction, notwithstanding it is the afterthought, used either in the way of explanation or of apology. It is here used in the latter sense. When I sat down to prepare this class-paper, I little thought that it would reach its present dimensions ; or, that its publication would be solicited. The compliment, I fear, comes from an undue partiality, and is an undeserved honor. Our last meeting at the college was one which will never be forgotten. To look into the faces of classmates we had not seen in fifty years and observe the changes time had wrought ; to grasp by the hand the companions of our boyhood ; to listen to the tales of those who had returned to their Alma Mater, perhaps, for the last time ; to pass in review the incidents of each others' lives ; to recount the virtues and achievements of those who had passed away, and drop a silent tear in affectionate remembrance ; to fore- cast our own departure which is so near at hand ; to walk about the college grounds and think that fifty classes had come and gone ; to realize that the most of the men we knew in our college days had joined the long, silent procession and had forever disap- peared from human vision ; to realize all this, seemed like an unreal dream—shadows in the shadow-land. But, after all, we felt sure that we had not lost our personality, — that we were the same sentient, thoughtful, active beings, as in days of yore. We could laugh and cry. Our sympathies were as keen and fresh iv. as ever. Naught had grown old but the caskets of the living spirits. Time, thank God, had naught else he could work upon ! We had reached a mature manhood, and could look back over the track we had pursued and see the dangers we had escaped and the conquests we had won. We could look across the narrow chasm before us and see the shining gates of pearl. It was a pentecostal season. The Divine protection was invoked that our steps might be guided in the future as they had been in the past. After finishing what I had to say of classmates and of the President and Professors, I was tempted to take a survey of the wonderful panorama of events of the last half century ; but I soon found that I was sailing on a mare incognitum, and that if I ever wished to make port again, I must turn the prow of my vessel and sail homeward. Pardon me for the great length of my manuscript. As it is for private eyes and not for the public, I feel sure that your criticisms will be charitable. I shall be happy if I have interested you by calling attention to some of the mile-stones which have been set up in the grand march of civilization in our day. It has been a great privilege to live and witness the marvellous development in every department of human thought and enterprise. To the preparation of this address, I lay no claim to originality. I have drawn from the accumulation of scientific and statistical materials of the past half century. I regret that I have not been able to learn about some of our classmates, whose names are not starred in the triennial catalogue. If living, their residence and occupation are unknown to me. I am sorry that I had not the materials for sketches of many classmates who achieved honorable positions in their several pro- fessions and spent their lives for the benefit of society. Many of them were bright and shining lights. It was a great disappointment that some of our brethren whom V. we had expected failed to come. Their letters of regret explained the reasons of their absence. From our first Class-circular, we learn that the honor of organ- izing a Glass Association belongs to the Class of '32. I know not whether our example has been followed by any other Class or not. At any rate, it has been a source of great pleasure to us who have participated in it, and we can recommend it to other Classes. Such meetings are also an advantage to the college. We would be wanting in courtesy not to acknowledge our obligations to the college authorities, and especially to Professor Lameroux, who secured rooms for us at the hotel and accommoda- tions for our meeting at the college. Grateful, dear Classmates, for the privilege of attending our recent meeting, and for the pleasure your presence and words afforded me, I am sincerely yours, CHAELES E. WEST. Brooklyn Heights Seminary, October, 1882. ADDRESS. Classmates of '32 : By a resolution of the Class, at its last meeting in 1802, a committee consisting of Charles E. West, Hamilton W. Robinson and A. P. Cumings, was appointed to publish a corrected catalogue of the Class, with an address, and the minutes of that meeting ; and they were also authorized to call a meeting in 1867. Unfortunately, there has been no meeting of the Class for the past twenty years ; and, as my associates of the committee have passed away, it has fallen to my lot to discharge this official duty alone. Our first meeting was in July, 1842. After an absence of ten years, it was a pleasure to return to our Alma Mater and renew the friendships of early days. It was a joyful occasion. Our fraternal greetings were sincere and hearty. "We had seen some- thing of the world. Man}- of us had entered upon professional life. Large spheres of usefulness were opening to our ambitions. The world seemed bright. Many an hour was spent in telling our experiences. Some had married and their firesides were made musical with the prattle of children. Our venerable President was living and in active service. It was delightful to meet again the " Old Man Eloquent " and receive his benediction. Many of our professors were actively' engaged in college work. The Mohawk valley was unchanged — the quiet river still pursued its placid waj T . " Dump " itself, although a University city, had not undergone such commercial alterations as to obliterate its old land-marks and make it unrecognizable ! We readily found our way from the railway station to the college grounds, but missed some of the familiar signs, as Clute's and Duncan's, on Union street. The college buildings had not undergone a particle of change. The same massive walls — the same brick-paved halls — the same old stair-ways with balustrades substantial enough for a 2 military fortress — the same unique rooms with the doctor's anthra- cite stoves — parlor, bed-room and store-room all in one. In front, the same beautiful panorama of landscape and sky, spreading far to the west. In the rear, the college gardens, lilled with evergreens and sweet-scented bushes, especially "Captain Jack's" garden, which was a new creation and has since become so celebrated. Being a farmer's son, I remember the questions he used to put to me as to the best modes of planting and sowing of seeds, for he commenced his gardening during our college course. How warmly he greeted us on our decennial return ! He was nature's noble- man and commanded the love and veneration of all his students. Yes, the college buildings and the instructors were as in days of yore — but, in all other respects how changed! Among the students we saw no familiar faces! Classes had come and gone! We were strangers and received no tokens of recognition ! We had had our day, and had gone out into the great world never again to be summoned to college duties ! We felt isolated and alone; and with closed doors we shut ourselves in and communed with each other. It was a precious season. The absent, the living and dead, were enquired about; many had gone to the silent land, qui fuerunt, sed nunc ad astra. Our poet, John W. Brown, read an elegiac poem commemorative of the fifteen deceased members. He took as a motto to his thanatousion the inscrip- tion upon Hinmaiis monument, in the college grounds, who was the first to die : — " Etsi procul a propinquis. " In morte quiescit. " Aniici plurimi, non sine lacrymis. "Sepulchrum revisent." The introductory verse of his hymn is as follows : " From the world's crowded scene of toil and strife, From various paths through which our steps have sped With various fortune in the race of life We come these classic halls again to tread To greet the living and to mourn the dead — Ten years of stern or bright vicissitude Have passed in action big with hope or dread, And now we stand again where oft we stood In those remembered days, a youthful brotherhood." Four decennial anniversaries have passed since that memorable meeting of "tfie seventeen" eleven of whom have since gone to the spirit-land; and of these is our sweel poet Brown, who sang for others — but now for himself as well : " Many are gone, whose morning hours were blest With promise of a bright and glorious day ! Some gentle souls sank quietly to rest As the departing sunlight melts away 'Mid the delicious bloom and balm of May. Some lie on distant shores, and virtuous deeds Have made their memory holy, and the ray Of blest example to the gloom succeeds, Cheering the heart that o'er the loved and lost ones bleels. " Fair, fair in memory's moonlight are they all, The young, the bright, the noble. It is true The silent grave returneth not our call ; Our voice wakes not their slumber ; from the voice Of living men, from 'neath that arch of blue, From this fair earth forever are they gone ; Yet be it ours to pay the tribute due To noble hearts, not with unmanly moan But in that worthy grief which hallows sorrow's tone." You will pardon me for recalling some of the departed with whom I was on terms of intimacy during our college course and afterwards. And first, Butler Goodrich, Jr. By consent of his classmates, he was regarded, I think, as the most accomplished scholar in his class. Our acquaintance began in the winter of 1825-6 at the old Pittsheld Academy, and was continued at the Berkshire Gymnasium, a celebrated school in Western Massachu- setts. My acquaintance at that time with young men from different parts of the country and from foreign lands, was of immense value to me, some of whom have become distinguished in society, — as Arthur Cleveland Coxe, Bishop of Western New York; Franklin Clinton, son of De Witt Clinton, who entered the U. S. Navy and died young; Thomas Allen, Member of Congress from St. Louis; Henry Shaw, the eccentric "Josh Billings;" Mariano Yaldez, the revolutionist, of Peru, South America. 4 But, of all the young men in the gymnasium with whom I was most intimately associated, was my townsman, Butler Good- rich. He was modest and gentle in disposition. He had an analytic mind, was fond of mathematics and abstract science, had great fondness for the Latin and Greek languages— was untir- ing in his application to study. His masterly scholarship soon attracted attention, and the highest rank was unanimously awarded him. We were poor boys, and found it difficult to break away from business to attend school. It was in the retirement of our bed-room, we passed a sleepless night in maturing our plans for obtaining an education at whatever sacrifice it might cost us. I shal] never forget that night. It was in the month of April, 1828. When the morning light broke, our ears were saluted by the songs of robin and blue-bird. Our plans were formed, and we arose from our beds as happy as the birds. For nearly ten years we were as one — our intimacy was perfect. We could not bear to be separated in vacation, but passed it at each other's houses. We entered Union College in 1830, and graduated two years later — the year of the terrible Asiatic cholera. In the fall of 1833, Goodrich came to Albany, and passed a year as a teacher in the Albany Female Academy. I had preceded him and established a school for boys. We were together once more. We attended Rev. E. N. Kirk's church — had heard him preach in the college chapel. In religion Goodrich was skeptical. But he liked the earnest and devout eloquence of Mr. Kirk. During a religious awakening in his church, we became interested in a series of religious services. They were novel to us ; and, at first, we attended them more from curiosity than from a desire of gaining any personal advantage, till at last we began to feel that there might be something in religion worthy of attainment. We had many misgivings. We did not like the methods. They seemed mechanical. Submission was mortifying to manly pride. Night after night we fought against it ; till at last, our conviction of the necessity of personal religion led us, after many struggles, to sign the following pledge : " We solemnly pledge ourselves that we will attend to the subject of religion immediately; and, if permitted to attend 5 meeting to-morrow evening, we will do everything in our power for the salvation of our souls. "Charles E. West, " B. Goodrich, J r. "Albany, February 17th, 1834." What memories crowd upon my mind as I copy these few lines which had such a practical bearing upon our destiny. Many years after, Dr. Kirk sent me the following note and a " Pastors Sketch :" " My dear West : " It just occurred to me to put in print our memorable interview, because the statement of it has been beneficial to other persons. I shall make No. 2 handle the difficulties about com- munity with three persons and one essence. " Your affectionate friend, "Edw. N. Kirk. "Boston, April 2, 185(3." The sketch, entitled, "Intellectual Difficulties in Reli- gion," No. 1, " The Being of God," I give in full : " There are such difficulties ; and it is very desirable that they be removed so far as explanation and suggestion can do it. And it is equally important to guard against an advantage the enemy of the truth often takes by making it appear that these difficulties are peculiar to religion; and that, therefore, persons who have not leisure for much study are excusable for not attending to religions doctrines. " Now, it should be noticed that the higher any subject rises in intrinsic grandeur or permanent importance to man, the more does it lie out of the ordinary range of thought, and the more does it require of the employment of those powers which are not most frequently in exercise. " Man is made to be conversant with spiritual just as mnch as with material objects ; and yet the daily and hourly exercise of the senses makes man more familiar with the latter than with the former ; and thus our susceptibility to impressions and to evidence depends upon our habits. A mere mathematician becomes exceed- 6 ingly keen in his perceptions of mathematical evidence ; but he is exposed to overlook a kind of evidence immeasurably more important for him. " I once knew two young men who were distinguished as mathematical students. They had formed the habit of requiring a diagram of any object to be presented to the eye before they could form a definite conception of it, and then a mathematical proof was required before they would believe anything not palpable to the senses. " In this state of mind they were both awakened to a conscious- ness of guilt and depravity in the sight of God. Under the pressure of this load, they retired from a religious meeting to pray alone. When they met each other the next morning, they found that each had encountered the same obstacle, and had yielded to it. They agreed to go immediately to their pastor and seek his aid. The substance of the conversation I will now give : " Pastor — What is it, my young friends? " Student — I went to my room and kneeled by the chair to give myself to God. The chair was there, the wall, the furniture ; and I was there ; but there was no one else. And it seemed to be absurd for me to beat the air with vain words, so I arose from my knees discouraged; and, meeting my friend B. this morning, I found that he had passed through the same process ; so we have come to seek your aid in the case. " Pastor — Most happy am I to meet you at any time, but particularly under such circumstances. Your difficulty is not an uncommon one. It arises from many causes which are common to us all as compound beings, partly sensuous, partly spiritual. But I deem it not improbable that in your case it has been aggravated by your disproportional development of the mathe- matical powers. So far, however, as the difficulty is mainly intellectual, you may easily be relieved. " To you both it seems as if you do not and cannot believe in the existence of mere spirit. But, however common, it is an egregious mistake. You believe in spirit just as much as in matter, and you know as much and even more about it. It is not important now to prove the latter point. But I would suggest the 7 ground of the assertion. Matter, you know, by a foreign t sstimony, broughl to the spirit, but with spirit you are acquainted by the direct action of the knowing faculty ; by that purest, profoundest, clearest, most indisputable of all modes of knowing — consciousness. " But, to leave that Imagine, now, that while we are conversing together, I should fall dead before you. Mark now the change in your whole mental action. In an instant, supposing the fact settled, that life Las irrevocably passed away, you would begin to conceive and speak of me as gone. But how is that ? Who am I? All that you ever saw or heard of me is still there. The diagram is there before your eyes, and yet you begin to think and speak of me as gone — all my qualities you discuss, speaking of your regard for me and my friendship toward you. But of whom are you speaking? You never saw my spirit, its size, form or color. And yet so perfect is your belief of the existence of that invisible being of which even your imagination can make no picture ; and not only of its existence, but also of its being all you ever thought of as constituting my personal existence, that you follow it in thought to unknown worlds and refuse to talk to that visible body any longer. " You believe in spirit, in God. Now return to your rooms and meet God there as you meet me here. Kneel and speak to Him as you now sit and speak to me. He hears you, He sees you ; and, if a doubt of his existence or presence comes over you, look at your hand and ask who contrived it ; lay it on your heart and ask who keeps it beating. "They retired. The next interview with their pastor was a joyful occasion. One of them in a few years went to heaven from the midst of his successful labors as a student of theology. The other still lives to honor the cause of his Saviour and train the youthful mind to the knowledge of divine and human things. "E. K K." In July, 1834, Goodrich resigned his position in the Academy and entered the Theological Seminary at Princeton. On the 18th of November he wrote me : "I have been already several days within the walls of a theological seminary. It is not in the power of pen and ink to describe my feelings as I left Albany. It was 8 beyond my cool philosophy to check the tears that would, unbid- den, drop from my eyes. Was it leaving Albany and my friends there that caused this flow of melancholy ? No ; I think I could, without one regret, wave all the pleasures and advantages that I enjoyed there even for an unknown and precarious enterprise. I love Albany, not for its excellences, but for its welcome associations to my mind. If I am ever so happy as to enter the regions of the blessed, I shall regard Albany as the sacred spot where I first met my Saviour, and He took me by the hand and pointed me to heaven. At the time I left you, a thousand mixed emotions in rapid succession moved my mind ; but what touched me most of all was the greatness of my enterprise, and the fact that I must leave you, who have stood by me in almost every undertaking in life, behind." During his connection with the seminary, he often wrote me of his work and of the interest he felt in his preparation for the ministry — the loftiest ideal of Christian service that could be conceived. He was grieved that I did not join him in his studies. His cousin, Rev. David White, afterward a missionary to Africa, was with him during his last illness and death, and wrote me that he died in the triumphs of faith. " It was indeed good to a pious heart," he said, "to be present with him in his last and dying hours. His views of eternal things were so clear, so elevated, so heavenly — his confidence in the Redeemer so firm and unwavering — his estimation of his own works so low — his exhortations in the service of his blessed Master so pathetic and forcible — his whole appearance so unlike to mortality and corruption — that we seemed to be looking upon and listening to an inhabitant of that world ' where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest' " On the Monday previous to his death, he enjoyed several lucid hours. He had been informed by Dr. Alexander that his physicians considered him beyond the reach of medicine, and, to all human appearance, very near his end. He received the intelligence with calmess and resignation, and said, ' I wish the Lord's will to be done.' Shortly after, when all had left him but myself and another brother, he discoursed a long time — of death and dying — 9 of bis prospects- of his hopes. Ee made disposition of his effects, arranged all his business with his usual exactness and order, scut, messages to all his particular friends, and made presents to several of them, among whom yon were one. Be requested me to give you the following message: 'Tell West the world has many allurements. I believe that he has struggled hard to live above their influence ; but still there is danger of living away from the path of Christian duty, or hindered in his progress. Tell him to live near to Christ 1 As a token of his dying remembrance and affectionate regard, be requested me to present you with his valuable flute. " It may not be improper here to say that Butler often spoke of Mr. Kirk, and at one time remarked, ' I have not time nor strength to speak of the gratitude I feel for the interest which he has taken in me. I remember him with much affection.' "His funeral was attended yesterday (February 14) in the chapel of the seminary. Though none of his father's family were here to follow his remains to their long home, they were attended by a numerous concourse of sympathizing friends. He was borne to the grave by his college acquaintances. He will rest in peace. His memory is blessed. " David White. " Pklnceton Theological Seminary, " February 15, 1836." He died at the Seminary, February 12, 1836, in the 27th year of his age. The first bereavement of my life ! A committee of his class, of which Rev. E. D. G. Prime, D. D., was chairman, was appointed to prepare a memoir of him, and I was requested to furnish the materials, and did so. His death was deeply lamented by the professors and students. In 1868, I obtained permission from the cemetery corporation to remove his remains to my lot in the Pittsfield Cemetery. His grave is on the bank of his loved Housatonic River, on the opposite side of which, and at a short distance, is the house where we spent the night to which reference has been made. To conceal my thought from the ignoble crowd who wander in cemeteries like ghouls and desecrate the soil which covers the precious dust of the dead, I wrote the following Latin inscription for the marble which marks his grave : 10 Hie sepnltiv /<><•<■/ reliquuu mei amiciqui e terra ad astra translatus fait PI lit rima '> sunt causce cur ilium semper amabo. Viator, sta et si flere vis, tecum revolve adolescentis mortem qui si vixisset omamentum ecclesiai et societatis insigne bene esse promisit. Another, and perhaps the most brilliant man of his class, was Alexander W. Bradford, who died November 5, 1867. I was appointed by the American Ethnological Society of New York to prepare a minute of his life, services and death, which were entered on its records, as follows : That in testifying to our respect for the ability, attainments, character and usefulness of the deceased, we do not feel inclined to indulge in empty panegyric, or enter into lengthy discussion of the combination of excellences which formed his manhood and made him conspicuous in his professional and private relations, as councillor, scholar, Christian and friend. Mr. Bradford was born in Albany, N. Y., February 21, 1815. He was the third son of Rev. John M. Bradford, D. D., pastor of the North Dutch Church in that city, and received his preparatory education in the Albany Academy, then under the care of that accomplished scholar T. Romeyn Beck, M. D. — an institution which then took rank with the foremost colleges of the State. Here Mr. Bradford gave an earnest of the success which was to follow him in the arena of professional life. At the age of 15, he entered Union College and was the youngest member of his class. In college, he was distinguished for acuteness of intellect and diligent appli- cation to study. He was particularly fond of mathematics, making marked attainments in the higher analysis and in its application to mechanics and physical astronomy. In this connec- tion, I remember him with pleasure, as an opportunity was afforded of witnessing his inventive power on this higher plane of intellec- tual discipline. Selecting the legal profession, he was admitted to the bar, in 1838. In 1843, he was elected Corporation Attorney, and in 1848 was chosen Surrogate of the City and County of New York, holding the office till 1858. It is not my province to pronounce judgment upon the 1 1 industry or the value of his services in this department of labor. This must be dou^ by his legal peers and associates. Bere, it is sufficient simply to refer to his voluminous reports which were prepared with great labor and research, and unite an equitable interpretation of the well-established rules of jurisprudence. His decisions will command respect in the arbitrament of all di (lieu It cases of probate, and upon them will rest his reputation as a scholar and jurist. After the close of his office as Surrogate, he served one term in the Legislature and then resumed the practice of law in New York, which he continued until his death. For his learning and integrity, Mr. Bradford received numerous testimonials of respect. His Alma Mater, in 1852, conferred upon him the degree of LL.D., and elected him a trustee of the college. He also served as trustee of Columbia College. He was a member of various literary and historical societies of the country ; also of the Royal Northern Antiquarian Society of Denmark. Ethnology was a favorite study, and had he devoted himself to research in this department, he would have achieved honorable distinction. As it was, he became a pioneer in American Archaeology. His work, entitled "American Antiquities," was prepared when a young man, and at a time when scarcely any- thing had been written upon the subject, and is characterized by diligent research and careful deductions from the mass of facts which lay in chaotic confusion— a digest, which will continue to be a valuable reference to the student of history. But, in estimating the character of our friend, we should be wanting in fidelity to him did we neglect to speak of what is better than talent, or genius, or learning, or professional reputation — did we forget those noble qualities of justice and humanity — that regard for truth and moral excellence — that love of God and man which characterized his life, and made him an example worthy of imitation. He has gone, leaving a record which will grow brighter and brighter in our recollections of him ; and, as we journey to the same bourne, let us be grateful that it has been our privilege to know him and receive inspiration from his words and example. 12 Rev. John 1L Raymond, LL.D., was bora in New York in 1814. In 1828, lie entered Columbia College ; and, after remain- ing there for three years, he joined our Class at Union. In 1838, he completed his theological studies at Madison University ; was appointed professor in Rochester University in 1851 ; was called to the Presidency of the Brooklyn Polytechnic Institute in 18'53 ; and, in 1804, he was chosen President of Vassar College for young women. For fourteen years he presided over that institution, and was permitted to witness its great success, and to confer the diploma of the college on more than 360 graduates. On August 14, 1&78, he died in the full maturity of his powers. His great work in. the establishment of Vassar was done. To its success he had brought an organizing mind, a finished education and a large experience in the management of institutions. Great wealth was put at his disposal with which to organize and equip the several departments of instruction. Costly and well arranged college buildings had been erected. The question in regard to woman's ability to grapple with the higher mathematical and abstract sciences had already been determined b}^ Rutgers Female College of New York, which is the mother of all the colleges for the higher education of women in the United States. Dr. Raymond was an accomplished Christian scholar. He was distinguished for great symmetry and beauty of character, 'for lofty ideals of human perfectibility, and for an unreserved conse- cration of himself to the moral regeneration of society. He has impressed his pure and noble character upon his generation, and left a record more enduring than that of marble in the affection of those for whom he toiled. Do you remember our classmate Lathrop ? He was poor and had to struggle hard for his education. He prepared his own meals, and occasionally made buckwheat cakes. He studied mathematics under Captain Jackson. At a recitation, one morning, on Osculating Curves: "Well, Lathrop," said Jackson, with his legs dangling over the arm of his chair, " how are the buckwheats?" "First-rate," was the reply. "And how is the L8 lesson? Do you understand osculating curves ?" " The theoretical part, professor, 1 have not mastered," said Lathrop; "but, if you will give me a girl with sweet, pretty lips, I will show you my proficiency m the application of the theory!" Lathrop studied law, came to New York to pass his examina- tion, was admitted to the bar, and, on his return home, so overpowering was his joy in winning the goal of his ambition, he lost all control over himself, and died at Albany in the wildest delirium. Lincoln B. Knowlton was an odd character. He was regarded by some as a great genius. He had the reputation of getting his lessons without study — would frequent students' rooms during study -hours, and boast of his intuitive superiority to the plodding, painstaking drudgery to which his classmates were subjected. It was said, however, that he passed the midnight hours in hard and patient study. In personal appearance he was careless, dressed shabbily, and took pride in it. He liked to amuse himself and others in various ways, and did queer things. He was annoyed, as we all were, with the cimex lectularius, and how to keep the pest out of our beds was a serious problem. Knowlton hit upon the following scheme : He laid the mattress on the floor, and put a wall of coal-ashes around it ; then? between the bed and the ashes, a circle of molasses was drawn. He reasoned that, if the vermin scaled the ash-entrenchment, he could not get through the molasses. But, in this he failed, and the failure has ever since been a college conundrum. The only solution ever proposed was that the varmint ran up the walls, over the ceiling, and came down like a vulture to do his bloody work. Knowlton studied law and settled in the West. Farnham told me that, on his way to the Pacific Coast, he saw Knowlton presiding as a police justice in a log-house in Illinois, and that he looked just as he did at recitation, or sitting on a college fence. He died in 1854. Judge Hamilton W. Kobinson died after a year's illness, April 7, 1879. I attended his funeral. A large number of his legal acquaintances were present. Rev. Dr. John Hall officiated, and delivered an appropriate address to the members of the bar on their duties to themselves and society, urging the importance of personal religious consecration of themselves to the Great Judge of all. He spoke in kindly terms of the deceased, and of his confidence in his Christian character. He was early associated in business with John Van Buren. I entered their office as a law student, and continued till I was admitted to the bar, in 1844. Robinson was profoundly read in the law, and used to prepare the cases, while Van Buren did the talking in court. I also attended the funeral of John McClelland, M. D., one of the distinguished physicians of New York ; and also that of the Hon. D. R. Floyd Jones, the successful politician, and at one time Lieutenant-Governor of this State. McClelland died April 12, 1876, and Jones, January 9, 1871. The practical business man of the Class while a student, was A. P. Cumings, who supported himself in college by getting sub- scriptions to the New York Observer and other publications, in his vacation excursions in the country on horseback. After gradua- ting, and studying theology at Princeton, he was taken into the Observer firm as a partner, where he remained for life, contributing his financial skill in establishing one of the most influential and useful religious papers in the country. He was the oldest man in his Class, and was on the most intimate terms with Dr. Nott, who had great confidence in his wisdom and integrity. He was boin in Dover, Dutchess County, N. Y., July 4, 1803; graduated from Princeton College in 1835 ; was licensed by the Presbytery of New Brunswick, October 21, 1835, and was Editor of the New York Observer from 1836 to 1871. While traveling in Europe in 1870-71, lie was attacked by paralysis at Nice, France, and died within a few days, May 13, 1871, and was buried in that city. Mr. Cumings was very active in Christian and benevolent work in New York, was a prominent director of the American Bible Society, and served for many years on some of its im- 15 portanl committees. 1 1 < " was a friend of education, and of every good cause 1 for ihe improvement and happiness of man. A loving friend writes: "The circumstances of his death and burial were in keeping with his humble, retiring life. In an upper chamber of a hotel, at the hour of midnight, attended only by his wife and a young friend, with two Italian men, the end came to him. Nor was his progress to the grave, far from kindred and home, marked by any funeral pageant. But in the pleasant British Cemetery of " Caucada," on a hill overlooking the Medi- terranean — amid a flora of unrivalled beauty and surrounded by olive groves, there the American traveler, visiting that lovely region for health or pleasure, may find a stone inscribed, " Abijah P. Cumings, of New York, U. S. A., aged 68." " The tears of children (not his own) whom he has educated — of the widows and orphans he has befriended — of the strangers he has "taken in" — of the "sick and in prison" he has comforted — of the servants of his own household, will not fall upon that grave. But the remembrance of such a man will live in a multi- tude of hearts." One of the ablest and most useful men of the Class was Eev. James M. McDonald, D. D. He was bom in Limerick, Maine, May 22, 4812. He pursued his theological studies at Yale College. In 1835 he was settled pastor of the Congregational Church in Worthington, Conn., and in 1837, of the Church in New London — was called to the Presbyterian Church in Jamaica, L. L, in 1841 ; and in 1850, to the Fifteenth Street Presbyterian Church of New York; and two years later, to the Presbyterian Church in Princeton, N. J., where, for more than twenty years, he continued to preach the gospel with great success. He was a voluminous writer. The following are the titles of some of his publications : " Credulity, as illustrated by successful impostures in Science, Superstition and Fanaticism; " "Key to the Book of Kevelation ; " " History of the Presbyterian Church of Jamaica;" "My Father's House, or the Heaven of the Bible;" " The Book of Ecclesiastes Explained ; " and " The Life of St. 16 John." He was a frequent contributor to the Princeton Review and the Bibliotheca Sacra. He was a man of fine personal appearance, of genial and attractive manners, of large and varied learning in his profession. He was prudent in speech, wise in counsel, positive in his convic- tions, and earnest in his advocacy of the truths of religion. He died, sincerely lamented, April 19, 1876. J. T. Farnham, although not a graduate, was a member of our Class. The college afterward conferred a degree upon him. In some respects, he was a remarkable character. Tall, and of com- manding personal appearance, he was sure to attract attention. Eestless in spirit and fond of adventure, he cound not be confined to any ordinary pursuit, and at a very early day after leaving college, he set out on the perilous undertaking of making his way across the continent, an account of which he published under the title of "Travels in the Great Western Prairies." He afterwards published a sequel to the first, entitled "Life, Adventures and Travels in California." In his preface to the latter work, he says, "I wrote my 'Travels in the Great Western Prairies,' with little belief that they would excite any attention beyond the circle in which personal friendship would in some sense link the reader with the events narrated. I did not comprehend the extensive interest felt in journeying over the wild and barren' realms of uncultivated nature. I did not suppose that the dim outline which words could give of the snow-clad peak, the desert-vale, and the trials and dangers which crowd about the pilgrim on the western deserts and mountains, could be made sufficiently distinct to conve}^ even a satisfactory shadow of their sublime, fearful nature. But the very unexpected favor with which that work has been received, has led me to conclude that such matters, related as far as they may be at all, with fidelity, are valued as useful knowledge. Indeed, we may learn much from the pulseless soli- tudes — from the desert untrodden by the foot of living thing — from the frozen world of mountains, whose chasms and cliffs never echoed to aught but the thunder tempests girding their frozen peaks — from old nature, piled, rocky, bladeless, toneless — if 17 we will allow its lessons of awe to react the mind and impress it with the fresh and holy images which they were made to inspire" In his first work, "] left," he says, "my readers off the mouth of Columbia. River, in sight of the green coast of Oregon. Lower Oregon! A verdant belt of wild loveliness! A great pack of (lowering shrubs, of forest pines, and clear streams! The old, unchanged home of the Indian; where lie has hunted the moose and deer, drawn the trout from the lake, and danced, sung, loved, and warred away a thousand generations." I have been unable to obtain any information in regard to the time or circumstances of his death. His widow was, for some time, Matron of the prison at Sing Sing, and did much for the moral improvement of the prisoners. In 1844, I sent her a set of wall maps for the benefit of the convicts. In acknowledging their receipt, she wrote: ''They are of the greatest service in the course of instruction we are now pursuing. Half an hour each morning is spent in a lesson on the early history and discovery of this Continent, and these maps add incalculably to the interest which dull minds feel in the mere narration. Every act of liberality like this lightens our labors, and inspires hope and self- respect in the unfortunate beings whom we are, in our humble way, seeking to make better and happier. Our success, thus far, has been commensurate with our highest hopes." Mrs. Farnham was the author of several volumes. Eliphalet Cramer completed his academic studies preparatory for college at the Berkshire Gymnasium in 1829. It was at the gymnasium that I first met him. At that time he was but fifteen years of age. Everybody liked "Lif" Cramer, as he was familiarly called. He had a kind heart and a kind word for everybody. My intercourse with him was intimate. For four years, we were constant companions. We were members of the same College societies — the Philomathian, the Kappa Alpha, and the Phi Beta Kappa, The title of his paper, at the graduating exercises, was "National Degeneracy." I don't remember of having met him after we parted on Com- mencement day. 18 From an obituary sketch which lias been furnished by his daughter, I have gained the following particulars : He was the eldest son of Hon. John Cramer, a distinguished citizen of Water- lord, N. Y. ; was born, June 18, 1813 ; studied law and was admit- ted to the bar ; removed in 1837 to Milwaukee, Wis. ; engaged in mercantile pursuits, and was largely interested in real estate ; was one of the organizers and first President of the State Bank of Wisconsin ; was one of the earliest members of the Plymouth Church, a deacon and one of its most liberal supporters ; was a large contributor to the funds for establishing Beloit College and the Chicago Theological Seminary ; was proud of his adopted city and invested largely in its real estate ; was in active business until two years before his death ; amassed a large fortune, which was used for the benefit of society. He died, September 19, 1872, deeply lamented by all classes of society who had shared in his benefactions. He had contributed to the rapid and marvellous growth of his adopted city and had seen it a mere hamlet of a few pioneers and backwoodsmen, rise to the dignity and wealth of a large commercial city. During his long residence there of more than thirty years, he was honored with many evidences of respect from his fellow citizens by the offices of trust and responsibility committed to his keeping. His memory is lovingly enshrined in many hearts. The telegraph brought the sad news from Washington, April 8, 1882, of the death of Thomas Allen. Allen was my life-long friend. As boys, we began our Aca- demic career together. Our fathers were farmers and lived in distant parts of the town ; so that in early childhood, we rarely met. His father was a leading citizen, and took a prominent part in public business. In this way, I early came to hear of Jonathan Allen, the father of our classmate. The Allen family was distinguished among the yeomanry of the town and State. The grandfather, the Kev. Thomas Allen, was the first settled minister of Pittsfield, and took an active part in the American Revolution. He fired the first gun, on the Colo- nial side, at the battle of Bennington ; was instrumental in arousing 19 the patriotism of the people in Western Massachusetts, and was among the foremost by speech ;ui