THE UNIVERSITY BULLETIN 
 
 
 Published Bi-monthly by the State University and School of Mines of North Dakota 
 University, N. D. 
 
 Entered February 4, 1909 at University, North Dakota, as Sceond-class Matter, 
 Under Act of Congress of July 16, 1894 
 
 
IN MEMORIAM 
 
 PROFESSOR JOHN MACNIE 
 
 WITH A 
 
 SKETCH OF HIS LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 BY 
 
 EX-PRESIDENT WEBSTER MERRIFIELD 
 
 AND THE ADDRESSES GIVEN AT THE 
 
 MEMORIAL EXERCISES 
 
 In the University Armory 
 
 NOVEMBER THE SECOND 
 
 MCMIX 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2017 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign Alternates 
 
 https://archive.org/details/inmemoriamprofesOOmerr 
 
Biographical anO pergonal 
 
 t 
 
 By Ex-President Webster Merrifield 
 
 After graduating from Yale in 1877 I taught 
 for two years in a small private preparatory school 
 for boys at Newburgh, New York. The high char- 
 acter of this school, largely the creation of Pro- 
 fessor Macnie, is attested by the fact that, though 
 numbering only about twenty-five pupils, in the two 
 years I was connected with it and the year follow- 
 ing it furnished two valedictorians to Yale and a 
 salutatorian to Williams College, the Alma Mater 
 of President Garfield. A day or two before the 
 school year of 1877-8 opened, in looking through 
 the class-room which had been assigned to me I 
 discovered a fragment of a dog-eared copy of Ver- 
 gil’s Aeneid and on one of the fly leaves this bit 
 of doggerel, written clearly by one of the boys: 
 
 “There was a ole man from bonny Dundee , 
 
 And his name it was Johnny Macnie; 
 
 This man he knew Latin , this man he knew Greek, 
 And he heard a bad lesson every day in the week ” 
 
 This, so far as I can now recall, was the first 
 mention I had seen or heard of the man who for 
 ten years had been my predecessor as teacher of 
 
 [3 ] 
 
Latin and Greek in the school and with whom, as 
 it proved, most of my subsequent life was to be so 
 intimately associated. When, some years after- 
 ward, I repeated this bit of doggeral to Professor 
 Macnie, he laughingly replied that Dundee was 
 about the only city in Scotland which he had never 
 even visited. He was born, I believe, near Stirling, 
 in January, 1836. He was educated at the Univer- 
 sity of Glasgow, and came to this country when he 
 was about thirty years old. 
 
 When the boys assembled on the opening day of 
 school and I was assigned as head of the table in 
 the dining room occupied by the older boys, I be- 
 gan to hear frequent references to “Mr. Macnie” 
 and to his varied and encyclopedic knowledge. It 
 soon became apparent that the older boys in the 
 school had not only boundless admiration for Mr. 
 Macnie’s astonishing learning but a profound re- 
 spect and warm admiration for him as a man and 
 a friend. I did not meet Mr. Macnie — as he was 
 then known — till a year from the following May, 
 when it was announced at table one day that he 
 was to pay a visit of a few weeks to his old haunts 
 and would occupy a room in the dormitory. When 
 the announcement of his anticipated visit was made 
 I must confess to considerable trepidation at his 
 coming; for I feared that he might be a curious 
 and critical visitor to my classes and I recalled the 
 statement of some of the boys that he knew his 
 Latin and Greek so thoroughly that he rarely used 
 a text-book in conducting his classes in Caesar, 
 
 [4] 
 
Cicero, Vergil, Xenophon, and Homer. When Mr. 
 Macnie arrived, however, and I was presented to 
 him, my fears vanished at once. A more gentle, 
 modest, unassuming and deferential personage I 
 had never met. He seemed to take it for granted 
 that, whatever subject he happened to be discours- 
 ing upon, his auditors knew, of course, all about it, 
 and he had a way of deferring to their judgment 
 as to any disputed or doubtful point, although it 
 was certain that the persons with whom he chanced 
 to be conversing knew vastly less about the subject 
 than he did — if, indeed, it was not to them a veri- 
 table terra incognita. In our daily intercourse dur- 
 ing the few weeks that followed his coming I be- 
 came almost as deeply impressed with the astonish- 
 ing range and truly encyclopedic character of Mr. 
 Macnie’s information as the boys had been. Lit- 
 erature, Science, Philosophy, Mathematics, Lan- 
 guages, History, — all were to him familiar ground. 
 In history, especially, he seemed to have read every- 
 thing and to have remembered, even in minutest de- 
 tail, everything he had ever read. And yet, with 
 all his prodigious learning, he was always so simple, 
 so apparently unconscious of his superiority, and so 
 almost childishly — I know not how else to express 
 it — enthusiastic in his interest in every field of 
 knowledge that it was a pleasure to listen to him 
 while he ran on, as he often would, in a sort of 
 monologue almost as if he were unconscious of 
 your presence. 
 
 [ 5 ] 
 
At the close of the school year in June, 1879, I 
 went to what is now North Dakota, remaining 
 there till appointed to a tutorship at Yale in the 
 following autumn. Mr. Macnie meanwhile returned 
 to his old position in the school at Newburgh. After 
 four years on the Yale faculty I was offered and 
 accepted the professorship of Greek and Latin in 
 the newly established University of North Dakota, 
 and entered upon my duties in September, 1884. 
 At the end of the first year, when it became neces- 
 sary to create the chair of French and German, I 
 suggested to the Regents (as the Trustees were then 
 called) the name of Mr. Macnie for the position 
 and secured from a number of his Eastern admirers 
 strong testimonials as to his fitness for the place. 
 One of the Regents — a scholarly and very estim- 
 able man — was himself a candidate for the position ; 
 but when he heard Mr. Macnie’s testimonials read 
 he, with a fine appreciation of the situation, said 
 that he ought not to be considered for a moment as 
 against such a man. And so Mr. Macnie was 
 unanimously elected by the Board and entered upon 
 the duties of his position in the fall of 1885. Since 
 then he has been a familiar figure to all who have 
 been connected in any way with the University as 
 well as to all the older generations among the citi- 
 zens of Grand Forks. Of his unique and delightful 
 personality I need not speak to any who have ever 
 met him. Of his profound and varied scholarship 
 it is equally needless to speak. At various times he 
 taught at the University French, German, Spanish 
 
 [6 J 
 
— even Italian privately to a few pupils — Latin, 
 Greek, Philosophy, Psychology, History, Physics, 
 the higher Mathematics and English Literature. 
 He was the author of an algebra and a geometry — 
 both widely used throughout the country — as well 
 as of a work on the Theory of Equations, which 
 was used for some years as a text book at West 
 Point, about the only institution in the country 
 where the subject was taught. 
 
 It is not, however, of Professor Macnie, the great 
 scholar and inspiring teacher, that I wish here to 
 speak, but rather of his rare qualities as a friend, 
 of his great unselfishness, his constant thoughtful- 
 ness for others, his genuineness as a man and as a 
 Christian, his delightful fancy and quaint humor, 
 his naiveness of manner and his unworldliness, even 
 unsophisticatedness, which made him the subject of 
 many droll and highly improbable anecdotes among 
 the student body. 
 
 Of his unfailing interest in the students and par- 
 ticularly in the young ladies, for whose comfort 
 and pleasure he was always contriving, every one 
 knows ; and the two evenings in the year — the birth- 
 days of his son and grandson in May and October 
 — which have come to be known at the University 
 as Professor Macnie’s Treat to the Girls, bear elo- 
 quent, almost pathetic witness. That the successive 
 generations of young women at the University have 
 appreciated his thoughtfulness and concern for their 
 welfare and have felt for him a genuine affection 
 is evidenced in the fact of their petitioning the 
 
 [7] 
 
Trustees to have one of the young ladies’ dormi- 
 tories named Macnie Hall in his honor shortly after 
 his retirement. Of his fine feeling, his love for the 
 University and his happy gift of poetical expres- 
 sion we have enduring evidence in his fine Uni- 
 versity hymn — Alma Mater — which has never been 
 excelled if, indeed, it has ever been equalled in dig- 
 nity and beauty as a college song. Many of his 
 occasional verses in The Student are of rare beauty 
 both in their lofty conception and their grace of 
 expression. Professor Macnie published one novel 
 — “The Diothas, or a Far Look Ahead” — which 
 went through several editions, one, at least, in Eng- 
 land and which, as a former librarian of the Boston 
 Public Library maintained, furnished the sugges- 
 tion, both in topic and treatment of Edward Bel- 
 lamy’s much less artistic though more widely read 
 “Looking Backward,” of which several hundred 
 thousand copies were sold in this country and Eng- 
 land and which was translated into several other 
 languages. Indeed, this gentleman went so far as 
 to charge, through the Boston Traveller, that Bel- 
 lamy had deliberately plagiarized Professor Mac- 
 nie’s book. Professor Macnie also wrote one or 
 two other novels of a very high order of merit, the 
 scenes of which were laid in Greece in the time of 
 Xenophon, but he never published them, owing to 
 the declining interest in classical subjects. 
 
 Professor Macnie, of all persons I have ever 
 known, was the most unselfish and altruistic, as he 
 was the most charitable. During the seventeen 
 [ 8 ] 
 
years that we lived together I never heard him speak 
 an unkind or disparaging word of a colleague or 
 friend, although he was quick and unsparing in his 
 denunciation of men who were shifty or unscrupu- 
 lous in positions of public trust. He seemingly 
 never thought of his own advancement or pecuniary 
 profit or reputation. He had absolutely no faculty 
 for pushing himself and but for the interest taken 
 in him by friends who knew his rare worth he would 
 doubtless have labored to the last in some hidden 
 corner, unobserved and unappreciated save by a 
 very few. 
 
 His lovable and altogether admirable and unique 
 qualities were separated by the whole heaven from 
 those which go to make the successful politician, the 
 merchant-prince, the railway magnate, or the so- 
 called Napoleon of Finance. The question naturally 
 arises, what is the value to society of such a life as 
 Professor Macnie’s, so unobtrusive, modest and un- 
 selfish ; yet so noble, lovable and unique in its almost 
 childish simplicity and naivete? During the five 
 delightful weeks I spent at Florence in my visits to 
 the great art galleries, the quaint and historic pi- 
 azzas, and the splendid old palaces of the Medicis 
 and the other great families of those golden three 
 centuries from Dante to Michael Angelo, I had 
 occasion daily to pass the little bronze plate in the 
 pavement of the Piazza della Signoria, which marks 
 the spot where Savonarola met his martyrdom by 
 fire on the 23d of May, 1498. Many were the hours 
 I lingered lovingly in the three tiny cells which con- 
 
 [9] 
 
stituted Savonarola’s chapel, study and bedroom in 
 the old monastery of San Marco and in those other 
 tiny cells of Fra Angelico and good old Sant’ An- 
 tonio. All three of them have been dead these four 
 hundred years and more. Dead, too, these four 
 hundred years and rpore are the Medicis — Cosmo, 
 “Pater Patriae;” Lorenzo, “the Magnificent,” and 
 all the rest of them who dwelt in those splendid old 
 palaces, still the wonder of the world. Why is it 
 that the thousands who come yearly to Florence 
 make their pilgrimages of love and admiration, not 
 to the stately palaces of the old town but to the five 
 tiny cells at San Marco and to the little prison 
 chamber, high up in that matchless old tower of the 
 Palazzo Vecchio, where Savonarola passed the last 
 forty days of his life a prisoner and from which he 
 walked on that memorable 23d of May to his fiery 
 death? I can not answer better than in the words 
 of America’s great novelist and charming essayist, 
 William D. Howells, who, writing of Savonarola 
 and Lorenzo, “II Magnifico,” in his “Tuscan 
 Cities,” says: “There is nothing of Savonarola 
 now but the memory of his purpose, nothing of 
 Lorenzo but the memory of his. The one willed 
 only good to others and the other willed only good 
 to himself. All history, like each individual ex- 
 perience, enforces nothing but this lesson of altru- 
 ism ; and it is because the memory which consecrates 
 the church of San Marco teaches it in supreme de- 
 gree that one stands before it with swelling heart.” 
 In his great unselfishness and his never failing con- 
 [ 10] 
 
sideration for the pleasure and welfare of others, 
 Professor Macnie constantly calls to my mind all 
 three of those great spirits who have made of San 
 Marco one of the world’s most cherished shrines; 
 but, in his rare gentleness, his self-abnegation, his 
 never failing sweetness and goodness, he was more 
 like Sant’ Antonio and Fra Angelico than the great 
 Florentine preacher, and perhaps most of all like 
 unto Fra Angelico, whose golden angels, painted 
 nearly five hundred years ago on the bare walls of 
 the tiny monks’ cells of San Marco, keep reminding 
 me, somehow or other, of the thousand little acts 
 and words of kindness of him who so recently was 
 our beloved colleague. His mortal part will soon be 
 dust, as Fra Angelico’s has been these many hun- 
 dred years; but his beautiful life, like Fra Angeli- 
 co’s angels, will go shining down the ages. All 
 goodness is immortal, whether it find expression in 
 Fra Angelico angels, painted on the bare convent 
 walls of San Marco, or as a truly human influence, 
 impressed on humble human hearts; for, as George 
 Eliot says, speaking of Dorothea, “the growing 
 good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric 
 acts ; and that things are not so ill with you and me 
 as they might have been is half owing to numbers 
 who lived faithfully a hidden life and rest in un- 
 visited tombs.” 
 
 Professor Macnie’s grave in the little country 
 cemetery at Easton, Connecticut, where he lies be- 
 side the wife of his youth, who survived their mar- 
 riage by less than a year, will be a mecca of loving 
 
 [ii] 
 
memories to the thousands of his former pupils, co- 
 laborers and friends, though not one of them may 
 ever visit it in person. 
 
 Memorial Cretcfees 
 
 Held in the University Armory 
 November 2, 1909. 
 
 Invocation The Rev. W. H. Matthews 
 
 Music: “Lead Kindly Tight’ U -University Quartette 
 
 Introductory Remarks President Frank L. McVey 
 
 Address : Professor Macnie as a Friend, 
 
 Mrs. F. C. Massee 
 
 Music: “Two Cities Gray” University Quartette 
 
 Address : Professor Macnie as a Colleague, 
 
 Dean M. A. Brannon 
 Music: “Jesus, Saviour, Pilot Me,” 
 
 University Quartette 
 
 Address : Professor Macnie as a Churchman, 
 
 The Rev. J. K. Burleson 
 Address : Professor Macnie as a Citizen, 
 
 Hon. Tracy R. Bangs 
 
 Music : “Alma Mater” By the Audience 
 
 Benediction The Rev. F. E. R. Miller 
 
 [ >2] 
 
Sntro&uctorp l&emarftg 
 
 By President McVey. 
 
 In the short period of a month three men who 
 were close to our hearts have been gathered to their 
 fathers. One of them came from Swedish ancestry, 
 one belonged to the Norwegian nation, and one 
 traced his forebears to the Scottish people. Each 
 of them found a home in America. Each sought 
 his work in a separate field of the public life and 
 history of our people. One was an editor and a 
 political leader, the governor of a neighboring state ; 
 another was a lawyer and a senator in the congress 
 of the American commonwealths; and the last was 
 a scholar and a teacher of youth. It is to honor 
 this man that we have met this afternoon, in mem- 
 ory of the work that he did among us, of the way 
 in which he touched our hearts, of the things which 
 he held as standards, and which will remain with 
 us from year to year and stamp the whole history 
 of the University that we love. 
 
 In order that we may have a wider view of Pro- 
 fessor Macnie’s character and work, some of his 
 friends have been asked to speak regarding him in 
 the different relations of life. First Mrs. Massee, 
 a life-long friend of Professor Macnie, will present 
 him as a friend; Dean Brannon, a co-worker with 
 [ 13 ] 
 
him for many years on the faculty of the Univer- 
 sity, will speak of him as a colleague; Rev. Mr, 
 Burleson will say something of his life as a church- 
 man, and Mr. Tracy Bangs of his place as a citizen. 
 
 tutoress 
 
 professor H^acnte a ifrtenfc 
 
 Mrs. F. C. Massee. 
 
 The greatest people I have known in the world 
 have been simple, and easy of access, not mindful 
 of their own greatness; and the most beautiful 
 things in the world are simple and easy of under- 
 standing. In these two classes I place the charac- 
 ter and friendship of Professor Macnie. 
 
 It is as a friend principally that I have been asked 
 to speak of him today. It is twenty years since I 
 first knew him, and nineteen of those years I have 
 counted him a friend. In the early days of the 
 University, when classes were small, the oppor- 
 tunity for acquaintance and friendship between 
 teacher and student was, of course, much greater 
 than it is today, and this privilege gave to me, per- 
 haps, the rarest and most beautiful friendship of my 
 life. Professor Macnie was then in the best prime 
 of mature manhood, before age had dimmed any of 
 his faculties. When I came to know him intimately 
 I understood in part the beautiful romance of his 
 [ 14 ] 
 
life that led him to idealize all womanhood. His 
 love for his girl bride, who died before one year of 
 wedded life was completed and before she had 
 reached her twentieth year, remained with him 
 through the long years of what seemed to many a 
 lonely life; and through this memory all girlhood 
 was beautiful to him and all womanhood sacred. 
 
 As a friend he had the rare faculty of holding 
 you up to your best, of understanding what you 
 reached after rather than your poverty of achieve- 
 ment. Without a grain of flattery, he had always 
 a ready appreciation of motives. He dealt frankly 
 with defects, and then forgot them. His sentiment 
 was never sentimentality, his sympathy never ob- 
 trusive, and yet both were warm and abiding. 
 
 Scholarship and its results did not mean to him 
 the chief things in life, although he himself was 
 happy and content in their pursuit. He believed in 
 and advised first of all the joys of home and little 
 children, with all else secondary. He saw the 
 poetry in simple, everyday life, and opened the 
 dimmer eyes of his friends to surrounding loveli- 
 ness. Up to his last few years at the University, 
 when his strength began to wane, he was a frequent 
 visitor at my home, dropping in almost every week 
 during pleasant weather, and best of all I love to 
 remember him in the occasional aimless tramps to- 
 gether through the woods, when the first delicate 
 tints of unfolding leaves colored the trees in spring 
 or when the rich autumn shades flaunted every- 
 where. His coming was always a joy to the chil- 
 
 [IS] 
 
dren, and he seemed to understand even the small- 
 est. 
 
 To those who knew him best he was not like any 
 other person, — this man who possessed a master’s 
 mind in so many different ways, this scholar, phil- 
 osopher and poet, who has left us ; but to me he will 
 chiefly remain the staunch, dependable friend, — 
 pure, lofty, inspiring, and gentle as the Christ who 
 lifted little children to his bosom. 
 
 2ltJt)Te0£ 
 
 t&rofe$0or 09acnte as a Colleague 
 
 Dean Melvin A. Brannon. 
 
 It is difficult to present the attributes of any great 
 man; it is extremely difficult to picture his person- 
 ality. Notwithstanding twelve years of intimate 
 relationship with Professor Macnie on the faculty 
 of this institution, it were better if some other mem- 
 bers who have known him yet longer were here to 
 pay this tribute this afternoon. It were most fitting 
 if ex-President Merrifield, “most worthy man,” 
 were here today to speak of Professor John Macnie, 
 “man most worthy.” 
 
 In a very simple way, and in a very reverent way, 
 I should like to bear testimony to the character of 
 this man, who has been presented to you already as 
 [ 16] 
 
great because of his Christianlike simplicity, and 
 great also by reason of his scholarship. 
 
 President Jordan of Leland Stanford says that 
 old Cornell was glorious because of her faculty. If 
 she achieved any distinction in the past, if she 
 achieves any distinction today, if she performs any 
 lasting service for humanity in the future, it is be- 
 cause of the faculty of Cornell University. This 
 is the belief and the declaration of all who appreci- 
 ate the worth of educational institutions. It must 
 be because of the personalities of the leaders of 
 those institutions that they are able to train leaders. 
 And so if we are to appreciate something of Pro- 
 fessor Macnie’s personality and greatness, we must 
 throw on the background this afternoon a little 
 sketch of the man’s greatness as a scholar. 
 
 As you know, he was born in Scotland, but he 
 was reared in Germany, and then he was educated 
 in Scotland at the University of Glasgow, and he 
 was further educated upon this new soil. His 
 greatness as a scholar had an admirable foundation 
 in his training, which was cosmopolitan. His great- 
 ness as a scholar gave him the name which he de- 
 servedly bore, “a walking encyclopedia.” Yet not- 
 withstanding his wide acquaintance with history, 
 with philosophy, with literature, and with science, 
 he was, as Mrs. Massee has said, as simple as a 
 child, thereby commanding us to witness that he 
 was great, so great that he forgot self, and merged 
 his personality in the truth that came to him 
 through many avenues. 
 
 [ 17 ] 
 
You who know something of the building of the 
 University of North Dakota will remember that he 
 was not a teacher only, but outside of that busy life 
 he gave evidence of his scholarship, and that evi- 
 dence was the production of something, the ex- 
 tension of the limits of knowledge. You will re- 
 member that he was the author of a text-book in 
 mathematics, a work on algebra for which he re- 
 ceived no credit, and he sought none; another had 
 the satisfaction of reaping the benefits of this man’s 
 work. He was the author of a text-book in ge- 
 ometry, used in this institution and in other parts 
 of the northwest. He was the author also in earlier 
 times of an advanced work in mathematics which 
 was the text used in our great military school. 
 
 We have had this afternoon testimony regarding 
 Professor Macnie by one who was taught by him. 
 I, too, may bring tribute as one taught by him, not- 
 withstanding the fact that I was a member of the 
 faculty with him. Professor Macnie was always 
 full of suggestions and showed a familiarity with 
 scientific subjects that continually amazed me. 
 That a man who was a student of the classics and 
 of philosophy, a teacher of the languages, should 
 know so much about science, should be so deeply 
 interested in the things of science, was a perennial 
 surprise and delight. 
 
 The students who were in his classes from time 
 to time will bear testimony to his inspiration as a 
 teacher. There are students in the city o,f Spokane, 
 in Boston, and in many other places in this great 
 [ 18 ] 
 
land, who have been under his care, and from all of 
 them we should have added testimony to his good- 
 ness, simplicity, and inspiration as teacher and 
 guide. Professor Macnie’s activities as a teacher 
 were not confined to the class-room. For years he 
 was an active representative of Christian work in 
 this institution, having under his care the Sunday 
 bible class; he also entered into the athletic activi- 
 ties of the students. Like every genuine son of 
 Scotland, he was passionately devoted to certain 
 expressions of the athletic spirit. It was he who 
 first helped to establish our tennis courts . He 
 found time to sympathize and join with us in foot- 
 ball, baseball, and all other activities which make for 
 the pure, strong, and wholesome man. 
 
 The 1885 catalog list of the faculty and instruct- 
 ors contains eight names. Three of them are pasted 
 in, indicating that they were elected subsequent to 
 the publication of the catalogue. One of these is 
 H. B. Woodworth and one is John Macnie. Both 
 of them have built themselves into the life of this 
 institution in a way that will never perish, and both 
 of them have gone to the great beyond. 
 
 Professor Macnie was called here as Professor 
 of English, German and French, but in the report 
 which was made for the year 1886 he is credited 
 with reports in five subjects, — English language 
 and literature, French, German, and history. 
 
 Reverently but emphatically I may declare that 
 this man occupied not only a chair but a whole settee 
 in this institution. In his report to the President 
 
 c 19] 
 
for 1888, after speaking of the students in his vari- 
 ous classes, numbering forty-six in all, when the 
 total institutional enrollment was forty-eight, he 
 says in conclusion : “I will state that while in cer- 
 tain cases instruction is carried on with some diffi- 
 culty, I yet have every reason to be pleased with the 
 conduct and general industry of the students under 
 my care. The lack of adequate preparation has in 
 many conspicuous instances been fully compensated 
 for by zeal and the resolve to take full advantage 
 of the opportunities so generously afforded them by 
 the state. The difficulties, it may be hoped, will 
 diminish with time, while the zeal and industry will 
 remain.” 
 
 Thus he spoke in that early time as a teacher. 
 Fortunately he saw the University of North Dakota 
 leave many very grievous difficulties behind. I 
 trust that were he here today he might bear em- 
 phatic testimony to the fact that “zeal and indus- 
 try,” which were the remedy for the troubles of that 
 time, are still in evidence with us. 
 
 For many years Professor Macnie was secretary 
 of the faculty. I often marveled at his patience and 
 care in keeping dry records of countless, and at 
 times trivial details. 
 
 And now a word with reference to this poet, 
 mathematician and linguist which will indicate 
 something of his religious life. It is better that he 
 himself should speak. Hear him in this little poem: 
 
 [ 20] 
 
TIME AND PATIENCE. 
 
 Rising from the depths of ocean 
 Slowly grows the coral isle, 
 
 Till the work of puny insects 
 Curbs the billows mile on mile . 
 
 Mountain-throned, the giant cedar 
 Cloudward rears its head sublime; 
 
 Years it grew a slender sapling, 
 
 Thousands passed to reach its prime. 
 
 Ages in its rocky matrix 
 Slow must crystallise the gem, 
 
 Ere it shines, in peerless splendor, 
 
 Starlike in the diadem. 
 
 Drop by drop the waters falling 
 Wear in time the flinty stone; 
 
 Time and patience thus accomplish 
 Tasks that baffle strength alone. 
 
 Undismayed, then, let us labor 
 Till the destined work is done; 
 
 Stone by stone is reared the temple, 
 
 Step by step the race is won. 
 
 Professor Macnie’s activities as student-scholar 
 extended in so many directions that this earth 
 could not limit them. He was a very good amateur 
 astronomer. His admiration for the limits above 
 is indicated in this little sonnet on Orion, written for 
 “The Student:” 
 
 [ 21 ] 
 
ORION. 
 
 Resplendent glory of the southern sky, 
 
 The clustered jewels of thy radiant sword 
 And blazing belt through aeons vast outpoured 
 Their radiance, long ere yet a sentient eye 
 Existed to admire or e'en descry. 
 
 Since time began have wondering eyes explored 
 Of sage or warrior, saint or savage horde, 
 
 As many an age will yet, thy splendors, peerless, 
 high. 
 
 Yet thou shalt also pass; for what art thou ? 
 
 Some sparkling drops hurled from the brimming 
 urn 
 
 Of boundless power to hang in boundless space 
 Through boundless time, as mortals deem it now; 
 But, to the Power through whom thy splendors 
 burn, 
 
 A transient gleam, to pass and leave no trace. 
 
 The religious character of Professor Macnie is 
 well expressed in a poem on the closing century. 
 
 THE century's CLOSE. 
 
 When the level rays of the westering sun 
 Strike sadly fair on the autumn lea, 
 
 We pensively sigh for another day gone 
 T o merge in the bygone eternity. 
 
 Yet ’ tis but the close of a single line 
 
 Of the book whose ending is mine and thine. 
 
 [ 22 ] 
 
Gravely we watch as the hand creeps near 
 To the topmost point of the dial’s face , 
 
 Awaiting the last of the dying year, 
 
 That for weal or woe has graved its trace. 
 
 ’Tis a page complete that for aye we turn 
 
 Of the hook whose ending no man may discern. 
 
 In a life hut once we attend with awe 
 
 The moment that marks a century’s close; 
 
 Of the millions that hopeful its incoming saw, 
 
 Not one now remains, all silent repose. 
 
 ’ Tis a chapter closed in the long, long tale 
 
 Of a strife ne’er to end till the better prevail. 
 
 Long we shall have passed to the further shore, 
 When hands yet unhorn shall the story indite, 
 When eyes yet to he o’er the record shall pore 
 Of this chapter with pages unturned and white, 
 That the volume ends of a thousand years 
 
 Of man’s brief splendor, his strivings and tears. 
 
 Once again, when death claimed one of the lead- 
 ing students of the University, Clarence Fairchild, 
 Professor Macnie expressed his belief in God and 
 immortality in these words : 
 
 IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 Ah! Why this waste ? is the question sad, 
 
 When we see the promises fair 
 Of youthful life cut off ere prime, 
 
 Like a weed by the ploughman’ s share. 
 
 c 23 ] 
 
For this the love and care of years, 
 
 From those that gave him birth ? 
 
 Is thus the fruit of years of toil 
 To vanish quite from earth? 
 
 Where now the mind of daring scope 
 That proudly roamed the spheres, 
 
 With thoughts that scanned the universe, 
 
 And plans that spanned the years? 
 
 Where now the well-trained manly will, 
 
 As gentle as ’twas brave? 
 
 Is all gone by like a zvithered flower? 
 
 All swallowed in the grave? 
 
 No! answer the eternities, 
 
 God labors not in vain; 
 
 His choicest work, the human soul, 
 
 Is destined to remain. 
 
 When the heavens have shrivelled like a scroll, 
 When constellations new, 
 
 Shall roll in the space that former stars 
 And former systems knew, 
 
 That precious thing, that spark divine, 
 
 Shall through the ages grow, 
 
 In szveetness and light, and God’s design 
 With deepening insight know. 
 
 He has but passed the portal dark 
 That we must pass ere long, 
 
 Entered through death, the higher life, 
 
 Has joined a countless throng. 
 
 r 24] 
 
But , alas! for the loving hearts that now 
 Bereft through life must go, 
 
 The hearts that henceforth hear a scar 
 Never to heal below. 
 
 But life is short, eternity long, 
 
 And soon this troubled dream, 
 
 Like the vanishing cares of childhood's days, 
 
 In the misty past shall seem. 
 
 For then shall vision undimmed be ours, 
 
 Where now we blindly grope, 
 
 And fulfilment of promise then shall be, 
 
 Where now we dare but hope. 
 
 But we feel that this man to whom we bring our 
 tributes this afternoon has immortalized himself in 
 our University song, “Alma Mater.” If he had 
 written nothing else, he would have made for him- 
 self a righteous claim to literary greatness : 
 
 ALMA MATER. 
 
 Hail to thee, O Alma Mater ! 
 
 Hail to thee with heart and tongue! 
 Pride we feel and love yet greater, 
 While we raise this grate fid song. 
 Home of lofty thought and learning, 
 Beacon o'er our western land, 
 
 Shrine whence still the everburning 
 T orch is passed from hand to hand. 
 
 r 25 ] 
 
Free as roam our winds the prairie , 
 
 Thought and speech here unconfined , 
 
 Free as eaglets round their eyrie , 
 
 Soar, proud offspring of the mind . 
 
 Love of freedom, love of duty, 
 
 Love of truth without a bound, 
 
 Valor in thy sons, and beauty 
 In thy daughters all, be found. 
 
 Alma Mater! thine the glory, 
 
 If or thought of ours or deed, 
 
 Find a place in song or story, 
 
 Win endeavor’s glorious meed. 
 
 Prosper ever, fostering mother! 
 
 Down the ages long resound 
 Loud thy fame, while many another 
 Finds in thee what we have found. 
 
 At this hour, as we say to this friend, this teacher, 
 this colleague, this scholar, “good-bye,” — a word 
 which Professor Macnie would almost never use, — 
 as we say it now to this man whose immaculate 
 presence always indicated great purity of soul 
 within, we realize that he exemplified the high 
 ideals of “Alma Mater;” and as the light of this 
 closing day glorifies the western sky and sea it 
 seems to me that our departed friend sends back 
 this message of abiding hope: 
 
 Sunset and evening star, 
 
 And one clear call for me! 
 
 And may there be no moaning of the bar, 
 
 When I put out to sea; 
 
 [ 26] 
 
But such a tide as moving seems asleep, 
 
 Too full for sound and foam, 
 
 When that which drezv from out the boundless deep 
 Turns again home. 
 
 Twilight and evening bell, 
 
 And after that the dark! 
 
 And may there be no sadness of farewell, 
 
 When I embark. 
 
 For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place 
 The flood may bear me far, 
 
 I hope to see my pilot face to face 
 When I have crost the bar. 
 
 2 litotes# 
 
 #rof es#or £@acnte as a Cljurctjman 
 
 The. Rev. J. K. Burleson. 
 
 After the words of our friend to which we have 
 just listened, words which bring to us the voice of 
 a serene faith and a certain hope, the voice which 
 speaks of a consecration of life and thought as well 
 as word, it seems to me that we hardly need to speak 
 further or to try to amplify further the thought of 
 Professor Macnie as a churchman. For to be a 
 churchman means far more than merely to be a 
 member of an organization or of a denomination. 
 It is something that must go down into the depths 
 
 c 27] 
 
of the life of every man and woman, and become 
 the center of that life, if the life be what it should 
 be. To meet Professor Macnie was to recognize 
 an earnest, simple, quiet, strong man. And that 
 characterizes exactly the religious life of Professor 
 Macnie, — it was earnest, simple, quiet, strong. And 
 so in speaking of him as a churchman we need not 
 bring out that fact, for it has already been brought 
 out. But when we speak of the outward signs of 
 that life, or rather the few signs which can be put 
 into words, we are only touching the surface, only 
 speaking of the superficial appearances in that 
 strong current of spiritual power which was in the 
 man’s self. 
 
 Professor Macnie was brought up in the Scotch 
 Episcopal church. When he came to this city he 
 was at first associated with the work of St. Paul’s 
 Parish; but afterwards, because of local circum- 
 stances and through the strong claims of the friend- 
 ships which he made here in this institution, he 
 identified himself with the work in the Presbyterian 
 church and became an active member of that or- 
 ganization. For many years — I have been unable 
 to find how many, — he was the teacher of the bible 
 class in the Presbyterian Sunday School; and those 
 who were under his teaching there tell us that he 
 was here, as always, the earnest, simple, helpful 
 man, — certain in his faith, and direct and clear in 
 his teaching, without any questioning as to the truth 
 and the power of the word he taught, and bringing 
 [28] 
 
that conviction home to the hearts and lives of 
 those who heard him. In connection with that work 
 he carried on the Sunday evening bible class in this 
 institution for about fifteen years, so that this or- 
 ganization probably owes its existence to his work 
 and efforts; for he did more than any one else to 
 make it what it is. His teachings were always 
 along what are called orthodox lines. He had little 
 use for new fads and fancies, but held firmly to the 
 basic truths and insisted on them, though he recog- 
 nized the views of other people and respected them. 
 
 Professor Macnie was also of great assistance in 
 the work of the Y. M. C. A. and the Y. W. C. A., 
 especially of the latter ; for, as has been said before, 
 Professor Macnie had a very tender spot in his 
 heart for all young women. Indeed, I am told that 
 many times it was his personal self-sacrifice that 
 made it possible for the young women of the insti- 
 tution to attend the church services in town, for 
 he was always ready to give up his own leisure and 
 comfort to accompany them when no one else was 
 found to do it. 
 
 His faith was just as simple and uplifting as his 
 life, and it made its influence felt upon every one 
 whom he knew. I have often noticed when ques- 
 tions came up in that organization in town known 
 as the Fortnightly Club, which touched religious or 
 spiritual truths, that Professor Macnie always had 
 a word to say which did much to clear up the diffi- 
 culties of others; a word, also, which was always 
 on the side of the higher truth and the higher life. 
 
 [ 29 ] 
 
It has been said that Professor Macnie was a 
 great man. And he was. And yet, he was not 
 great in the sense in which that word is sometimes 
 used, — that is, spectacular or striking, one who 
 would call attention to himself. He was the very 
 last to do that, or to desire any such thing; and it 
 was that perfectly simple and unconscious life of 
 the man which very largely helped to make him the 
 power that he was. If I were asked to name one 
 characteristic which I think did most of all to 
 make his life the power that it was, I should say 
 that it was the constancy of the man. As some one 
 once expressed it, “You always know just where 
 to find John Macnie, and you always find him on 
 the right side.” 
 
 We know the reward which is waiting for him 
 on the other side. We know exactly, because the 
 Saviour himself has told us, in that story about 
 the king who went into a far country, and coming 
 back called his servants to him to give an account 
 of what they had done. To those who gave a good 
 account he said, “Well done, good and faithful ser- 
 vant; thou hast been faithful — ” that is the word, 
 the word that characterized this man’s life, faithful 
 — “thou hast been faithful over a few things; I 
 will make thee ruler over many things. Enter into 
 the joy of thy Lord.” 
 
2U)tire00 
 
 0rofe00or £0atnte a0 a Cttt 3 en 
 
 Hon. Tracy R. Bangs. 
 
 We have been told of Professor Macnie this 
 afternoon by those who speak as few others can. 
 Mrs. Massee, a life-long friend, Professor Brannon, 
 a friend and co-worker with him in this institution, 
 and Mr. Burleson, who looked at him with the eyes 
 of a churchman, have spoken of him as a “friend,” 
 a “colleague,” and a “churchman.” 
 
 To me it is given to speak of him as a “citizen,” 
 a man among men. He had a life other than as 
 an instructor. He was recognized among the men 
 of the community as something more than a mem- 
 ber of the University force. He was an instructor 
 of men as well as of youth. He was not a dollar- 
 chasing, nervous business man. He was not an en- 
 thusiast pursuing any line of public work that called 
 him into the limelight of public opinion ; but he saw 
 a course that had been marked out for him, and he 
 followed that course as though it had been given 
 to him by divine hands. He believed that he had 
 a life-work to do, and unfalteringly doing it he 
 became an example to the men of the world who 
 had the privilege of knowing him, for observing 
 him they were shown that a man could acquire hap- 
 piness and success without a soul-racking struggle 
 [3i ] 
 
for financial gain. As a man he did more than 
 think. It was not as an instructor, it was not as 
 a friend, it was not as a churchman, in the days 
 when designing politicians with the idea of taking 
 to themselves some credit for economy in the con- 
 duct of the state’s financial affairs, struck at the 
 very foundations of education in this state, that 
 Professor Macnie, with some others — a little band 
 of loyal men, some of whom are with us now, — was 
 willing to forego his salary and give all his time 
 that this institution might be kept alive. He did 
 that as a man, as a citizen of the State of North 
 Dakota, as one who was interested in the welfare 
 of this commonwealth and whose patriotism rose 
 far above self ; and that example alone is enough 
 to place him firmly on the tablets of our memory, 
 to be always looked upon with love and reverence, 
 not only as one of the founders of the educational 
 system of this state, but one of its preservers as 
 well. As has been well said, he was timid and 
 gentle. He never would do anything to attract 
 attention to himself. He had the highest ideals, 
 not only of womanhood, but of manhood. He lived 
 upon a plane above that of most of us, and yet his 
 genial disposition, his kindly heart, and his bright 
 mind were such, that we who were below could 
 feel the contact with the plane above. It never was 
 necessary for him to use the hackneyed phrase, “The 
 end justifies the means,” because he was not even 
 piously unfair. He was always fair. His mind 
 was so constructed that he was honest with himself 
 
 [ 32 ] 
 
and all the world. I have often thought, and I 
 believe now, that years and years ago Professor 
 Macnie had heard the word, and raised the stone, 
 for if ever a man had found the Lord, he was 
 that man. 
 
 To-day we are gathered to do him honor, which 
 can best be done by practising and preaching his 
 many virtues. 
 
 The President has well said, his influence has 
 been as wide as this country, for from out of this 
 University have gone men to points far distant, 
 from ocean to ocean, and from the northern boun- 
 dary to the Gulf, who have won honor and credit 
 and who in considering success refer gratefully to 
 the example and precept of Professor Macnie. He 
 was one of the grandest men that the state has 
 ever known, and we to-day, with bowed heads and 
 sorrowing hearts, mourn the loss of this man, who 
 in the dignity of a ripe old age, conscious of a life 
 well lived, has but wrapped the draperies of his 
 couch about him and lain down to pleasant dreams, 
 to awaken only with the dawn of the everlasting 
 day, when he will meet the love of his youth in 
 that golden city where God gives his children rest. 
 
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