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 CLASS OF ’61. 
 

 
 
 
 
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 OF THE 
 
 GLASS OF ’ 6i . 
 
 Wednesday, May 15, 1861. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY THE CLASS. 
 
 GENEVA: 
 
 S. H. PARKER, PRINTER, GAZETTE OFFICE. 
 
 1861 . 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2017 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign Alternates 
 
 https://archive.org/details/classdayexerciseOOhoba 
 
The Class of Eighteen Hundred and Sixty-one will ever be remember- 
 ed in the annals of Hobart College, for its untiring energy and zeal in 
 every act that might redound to the honor of its Alma Mater, and for the 
 striking spirit of originality it has manifested throughout its whole Col- 
 lege Course. Nothing that has been done by this Class will probably 
 add a brighter lustre to its fame, than its institution of a “ Class Day ” at 
 Hobart. This is a custom that has been long observed in other Colleges, 
 and the Class of ’61 were determined that the custom should be inaugu- 
 rated here, and that too by itself. A portion of the Faculty were opposed 
 to any deviation from the regular course of former classes, and the estab- 
 lishment of any new customs ; but with the approval of two or three 
 members of that august body, the Class made their arrangements, and by 
 every one it was pronounced a complete success. 
 
 An Orator, Poet, and Historian were chosen, and the manner in which 
 they acquitted themselves, can be seen by an examination of the follow- 
 ing pages. 
 
 The morning of the 15th of May showed a clear and cloudless sky, 
 which, after the days of constant rain which had preceded, was hailed by 
 all with delight ; especially by the members of the Senior Class, who saw 
 in this a propitious omen of their now undertaking. 
 
 At two o’clock P. M., the Senior Class met in front of the College, and 
 preceded by the Geneva Brass Band, marched in procession to Linden 
 Hall. By the unanimous request of the Class, the Rev. Dr. Wilson, sen- 
 ior Professor of the Faculty presided, and opened the exercises at the 
 Hall with prayer. An Oration was then pronounced by Napoleon 
 Palmer, after which a Poem was delivered by Bykon. K. Cowles. 
 
 Mr. Charles T. Ogden then, in behalf of the Senior Class, presented 
 to the Juniors an Indian paddle, (supposed to have formerly belonged to 
 the Chief of the Canadesagas, and discovered by some members of the 
 Class, while exploring, a year or two since, the bottom of Lake Seneca 
 for minerals,) which was gracefully received by Mr. Edward S. Lawson 
 as the representative of that Class. After music by the Band, and 
 the benediction by Dr. Wilson, the Class formed in procession and 
 marched to the College campus, where, in the hearing of the whole Col- 
 lege and a large concourse of spectators, a Class history was read by 
 Martin Cooper. The Class then partook freely of refreshments, both 
 of an eatable and drinkable nature, the Pipe of Peace was smoked, songs 
 
4 
 
 were sung, and to the inspiring strains of the Band the Class joined in 
 the mazes of the dance upon the green, green grass. 
 
 Final hands shaking were then taken, and while the tender strains of 
 “ Auld Lang Syne ” died away on the evening air, a tear glistened in the 
 bright eye of many a strong man ; and the Class after a call at the resi- 
 dence of each member of the Faculty, with three cheers for their Alma 
 Mater, adjourned to meet again at the supper table. 
 
 At half past eleven P. M., they gathered around the festal board, (for 
 an account of the proceedings at the supper table see subsequent page,) 
 where, for several hours the good things of their host, Mr. Suydam, were 
 discussed, speeches made, songs sung, and a general good time had. At 
 four o’clock in the morning they wended their way towards College, ser- 
 enading the Professors as they marched up, who didn’t seem to appreci- 
 ate the compliment, with the exception of Dr. Wilson, who has ever 
 countenanced the proceedings of this Class, and arriving at College filed 
 through the old Halls of their Alma Mater for the last time. Around the 
 Class tree in the College green, a circle was then formed ; upon the bend- 
 ed knee “ Our Father ” was reverently said by the Class ; the last “ good 
 bye” was spoken, and thus ended the Class Day of the Class of ’61, the 
 memory of which will forever be fresh in the minds of its members, and 
 the inauguration of which will add one more bright wreath to their gar- 
 land ot College honors. 
 
ORATION. 
 
 BY NAPOLEON PALMER. 
 
 There are occasions when, oscillating between memory and 
 hope, we regard the past and that which is to be, in their more 
 intimate relations to the present ; when we are conscious that 
 the ties which have united us to places and friends in the past 
 are about to be severed, and we feel compelled to seek other and 
 new attachments; when our recollections of the past, our thoughts 
 of the present, and our aspirations for the future, are at once 
 vividly present in our mind. To-day presents to us such an oc- 
 casion ; the day which ends for us an important period and be- 
 gins another still more important. It is a day of mingled emo- 
 tions ; of alternate despondancy and exultation — of despondancy, 
 that our collegiate life is ended, that the vacation, — the long va- 
 cation, extending through the remainder of our lives — has com- 
 menced, that friendship’s genial bonds are to be weakened by 
 space and time, that hereafter we must struggle with the grave 
 questions, the solemn responsibilities of life ; whilst the thought 
 that we are standing in the pride and vigor of youth, “ with 
 the dew of the morning yet upon us,” just upon the threshold 
 of sober manhood, where life will be real and practical, causes 
 us exultation, imbues us with a feeling of dignity, of manliness. 
 
 During the four years which we have passed so pleasantly 
 within the walls of our Alma Mater, who stands yonder so 
 proudly looking out upon fair Seneca’s waters, we have lived 
 and thought in the past. The Philosophers, to whose instruc- 
 tions we have listened so attentively ; the Orators, whose elo- 
 quence has so thrilled us ; the Warriors, in whose combats we 
 have participated ; the Poets, from whose strains we have de- 
 rived so much pleasure ; the very people whose manners, cus- 
 
6 
 
 toms and institutions we have so dilligently studied, have for 
 the most part been those of by-gone days. Until this time we 
 have been spectators ; but now we ourselves are to be actors. 
 We are now to take active part in “the great drama of life.” 
 A change so great and radical must necessarily cause us much 
 of deep and earnest thought as to what we have accomplished 
 — what preparation we have acquired with which to meet the 
 many requirements and duties of this new life upon which we 
 are about to enter. Have we made a good use of our time ? 
 Have we availed ourselves to the utmost of the many advan- 
 tages it has been our privilege to enjoy ? Have we acquired 
 those habits which are most essential to our prosecuting suc- 
 cessfully the course which the future is about to open to us ? — 
 These are truly grave questions, — questions worthy of our 
 strictest attention — questions which each one can answer for 
 himself, and for himself alone. Can we return to them an affi- 
 mative answer ? Then may we look cheerfully forward towards 
 the future. Does our conscience compel a negative reply ? 
 Then may we hesitate and fear to advance over the shoals and 
 quicksands which will beset our path. For the course over 
 which we have just passed was designed to train us for that 
 upon which we are just entering — to so instruct and prepare 
 us that we might be successful in life. 
 
 Such being the fact, I propose, in the first place, briefly to 
 consider a few of the most important requisits for the attain- 
 ment of that success for which we all wish. And first amongst 
 them I shall place Industry. It is one of God’s laws that men 
 shall work. “ In the sweat of the face shalt thou eat bread,” 
 was the command given to our first parents by their creator. — 
 If we would be successful we must work — work with our head 
 or hands, oftener with both. Living in a free country, untram- 
 meled by petty legal enactments, we are permitted, each one of 
 us, to choose our own profession or occupation ; the whole busi- 
 ness world lies open to us. But it is this very absence of law, 
 this freedom we can exercise in the choice of employment, that 
 makes industry the more necessary. For each one, pursuing 
 
7 
 
 that for which he is best fitted both by nature and education, 
 success will depend more upon himself. Do we wish for wealth 
 and the advantages it confers ? The only sure and safe path 
 to it is industry. 
 
 It is true that sometimes fortunes are made in a day. By a 
 turn of the wheel of the capricious Goddess, a poor man is made 
 suddenly rich — in an hour raised from poverty to affluence. A 
 lottery ticket — a throw of the dice — a hazardous commercial 
 speculation, — have sometimes made men wealthy. But these 
 are exceptions, and experience shows that fortunes thus obtain- 
 ed are often as quickly lost. It is only by toil — the toil of years 
 — that fortunes worth possessing are acquired. W eary of patient 
 persevering effort, and deluded by unreal appearances, the far- 
 mer is often persuaded to leave his plow, the merchant his count- 
 ing-room, the professional man his office, the student his closet, 
 to engage in some wild-goose chase after wealth ; some speedier 
 method of getting gold than by plodding along in the old way, 
 adding to their possessions little by little. Some brilliant chance 
 seems to present itself, — it may be a “ south sea scheme per- 
 chance a new railroad over the Rocky Mountains — his property 
 is invested, and for a time his dreams are all of a golden hue * 
 but alas, too often he is soon awakened from his bright visions 
 by the loss of his all. If we glance at those whose wealth has 
 made them famous, we shall find that they are men of patient 
 industry and persevering effort. From the rising of the sun to 
 the going down of the same ; yes, frequently till the stars begin 
 to pale, have their minds and hands been busy ; their attention 
 has been given to their business and success has crowned their 
 efforts. Far otherwise would it been with them if, in the morn- 
 ing of their career, they had been led astray from forming habits of 
 persevering industry by the delusive charms of hazard and specu- 
 lation. Had they been deluded by every gold-mine mania, and 
 journeyed afar off from their homes and friends, over moun- 
 tains, across deserts and rivers, among savage beasts and men 
 even more savage, they would only have dug their own graves- 
 Had they sought the gaming table, instead of living at their 
 
8 
 
 ease in their own palatial residences, they would probably be 
 enjoying the hospitalities which the State offers to her erring 
 children. Had they listened to the flattering words of every 
 wild-brained stock-broker, their only notes might be those of 
 defunct wild-cat institutions. There is indeed a charm about 
 this quick way of getting rich ; but it is delusive, and we must 
 resist it. 
 
 Nor can a distinguished name be earned in a moment. This 
 also requires years of persevering industry. To secure the re- 
 spect of mankind, and leave behind us a name honored and re- 
 vered, we must add virtue to virtue, experience to experience, 
 one element of knowledge to another, one lesson of wisdom 
 to its fellows, and persevere thus year by year, increasing 
 gradually but surely in experience and knowledge, in wisdom 
 and virtue. So have all those distinguished men ; those Ora- 
 tors, Philosophers, Statesmen and Philanthropists, whom we 
 love to honor ; so must we if we are emulous of their good 
 name. Whatever, then, be the profession or business which we 
 choose, let us industriously and perseveringly pursue it. “ The 
 stone that keeps rolling will gather no moss.” Remember that 
 no lawful manly pursuit is despicable. Cincinnatus was found 
 cultivating his field by the messengers sent by Rome’s august 
 Senate to inform him of his election as Dictator of the Empire. 
 Commodore Vanderbilt, who commands a navy of which 
 European Princes might well be proud, was once a cabin boy. 
 The Father of his — of our country — was a farmer. Industry 
 is honorable ; ’tis idleness that is disgraceful. The over-alls of 
 a mechanic covered with dust and grease, the jacket of a mason 
 besmeared with lime and plaster, the ragged coat of the literary 
 or scientific student, often conceals a more honorable man than 
 the broad-cloth of him who, glorying in his wealth — inherited 
 perhaps from industrious ancestors — looks with contempt upon 
 all labor, whether physical or mental. 
 
 Another indispensible requisite for success is Frugality. I 
 would not willingly utter anything to encourage a miserly spirit, 
 far from it. If there is one cbntemptible man more contemptible 
 
9 
 
 than all others, it is an avaricious, close-fisted miser. To see a 
 human being so blind to the true ends of life, that he heaps up 
 gold for its own sake, and that he may conceal it from the gaze 
 of others ; feasting his eyes upon his heaps of shining pieces, 
 and pleasing his ears with their ringing sound, as he counts and 
 re-counts them over and over one by one ; gloating over gold 
 by day, dreaming of gold by night ; dying, thinking more of 
 his gold than of his God — to see such an one, is to see one of 
 the saddest sights degraded humanity presents. And but little 
 less disgusting is he who, though not avaricious, is nevertheless 
 covetous. Who, although he does not make mammon his only 
 idol, — “ his all in all,” — still is so tenacious of his possessions as 
 to turn a deaf ear to all the calls of benevolence, and by so doing 
 denies the claims of nature. But if avarice and covetousness 
 he the Scylla , prodigality and extravagance are no less the 
 Charybdis. Each must be avoided if we would reach the haven 
 of success. Often from the desire to avoid the one we are 
 wrecked upon the other. That we may not appear niggardly, 
 frequently we rush to the other extreme, and become prodigal. 
 “ Live within your income,” is the motto, which, if adopted, 
 will enable us to avoid either extreme, and pursue the “juste 
 millieu ” — the true golden mean — to its inevitable and desired 
 result. 
 
 Still another element of success, no less indispensible than in- 
 dustry and frugality, is Hoxesty. Just entering into active bu- 
 siness life, we shall be peculiarly exposed to temptations, not 
 only from our own desires within, but also from our surround- 
 ings. W e will see many whose success is comparatively rapid, 
 and forgetting that while we are but just entering upon our 
 course, they have been advancing for years, we wish to advance 
 with equal strides. Again we shall find some seemingly very 
 prosperous, who do not always act upon the principle “ that 
 honesty is the best policy.” Incited by their apparent success, 
 we may be tempted to practice similar artifices. But if we ob- 
 serve closely those who practice those “ tricks of the trade,” 
 we shall discover that their prosperity is illusory. Their ill- 
 
10 
 
 gotten gains are very liable to “ take to themselves wings and 
 fly away their dishonest practices, sooner or later, are discov- 
 ered, their reputation lost ; those who once were friends have 
 grown cool and distrustful ; and unable to get assistance in time 
 of need, they cannot withstand the frowns of Fortune. Where- 
 as, if they had made honesty their guide, though fortune had 
 veiled her face, yet possessed of an honorable name and sur- 
 rounded and supported by trusting friends, they could have 
 contended valiently, and at length . compelled the smiles of the 
 “ fickle jade.” Let us then make honesty one of our most fa- 
 miliar guides ; and let it not be merely that required by the 
 letter, but rather that taught by the spirit of the law, — the hon- 
 esty which morality inculcates. Not resting satisfied with the 
 mere fact, that in our daily walk we have done nothing that has 
 violated the law, but seek to render our thoughts and intentions 
 such that our conscience will not brand us with dishonesty. 
 
 These are the chief requisites of success ; but if we are pos- 
 sessed of these we shall also possess many others ; for they 
 they never go alone. A numberless host of correct principles 
 follow in their train. If we would be successful let us make 
 these our own — let us be honest, frugal, industrious. 
 
 But as students, as educated men, we cannot be satisfied with 
 mere success in the business in which we may choose to engage. 
 The studies we have pursued, the instructions we have received, 
 have given us aspirations other and higher than those for wealth 
 and fame. We have been taught that this busy scene here is 
 not the whole of life ; that there is a world — a life beyond. — 
 W e have had the human mind laid bare to our gaze, so that we 
 could view all its various workings and capabilities. The great 
 principles that govern man and nations, the world animate and 
 inanimate, have been subjects for our study ; and we desire to 
 fill well our places, — the places assigned to us by the Disposer 
 of all things, — He who made man in his own image. We wish 
 to be true men, than which God has created nothing more noble.. 
 
 We know full well that not every one who wears the human 
 form is a man in the full and noble sense of that term. The 
 
11 
 
 form proves their connection with the “ genus homo” nothing 
 more. Many live among us devoid of all the chief elements of 
 a manly character ; many who think themselves men, — who 
 think their course honorable and worthy of imitation. The 
 gambler has his ideas of manliness — his code of honor ; the 
 duellist has his code of honor ; the ambitious warrior, gory 
 with the blood of his unoffending fellow creatures, has his code 
 <of honor. But we are unwilling to accept any of these as our 
 own. 
 
 Many and various are the opinions entertained as to what 
 constitutes a man. By some, blood and station ; by others, in. 
 tellect ; by others still, wealth is supposed to make the man. — 
 Are these opinions correct ? Do any any or all of these acci- 
 dental endowments make their possessors “ the noblest work 
 of God ?” Bear with me a short time while I endeavor to ans- 
 wer these questions. 
 
 Can blood or birth, station or title, make a man ? Duplicity 
 and crime are as often found in a Monarch’s gorgeous palace, 
 as in the humble hut of the peasant. Titled dignitaries are as 
 frequently devoid of principles of humanity as boorish serfs. — 
 Nero was the acknowledged sovereign of the mighty Roman 
 Empire ; of her who gave laws to the whole world, and whose 
 power and fame is the admiration of our own age ; the blood 
 of the Ceasers flowed through his veins ; was he a man ? Did 
 his heart beat in unison with the great heart of humanity ? — 
 Ask the burning palaces of the seven-hilled city ! ask the prim- 
 itive Christians ! Ask them if he was a man, and they will 
 answer, No ! he was a demon in human form. When he 
 died the crushed form of humanity was relieved of a mighty 
 incubus ; and, standing erect over his corpse, sang an anthem 
 of deliverance and thanksgiving. 
 
 On the other hand, men of low degree, holding in their hand 
 no scepter, wearing on their heads no crown, clad not in the 
 rich habiliments of majesty, but in the garments of poverty, 
 have come forth from their obscurity, and by their lives and 
 teachings re-awakened the race to its true interests, dazzling 
 
12 
 
 the eyes of their contemporaries by the brilliancy of their man- 
 hood. Such was Luther. His heart was human, each pulsa- 
 tion was manly ; he was a man. Such were Wilberforce and 
 Howard ; such were, such are many who adorn our race. 
 
 Wealth does not make a man. Great fortunes do not neces- 
 sarily endow their possessors with manly sentiments proportion- 
 ably great. Better for the cause of suffering humanity were 
 it so ! Better would it be if persons rich in worldly goods 
 were also rich in human feelings ; if great possessions belonged 
 only to great hearts. But such is not the fact ; alas, too fre- 
 quently, the reverse is true. There is an influence proceeding 
 from great riches which seems to narrow the heart, to drive out 
 manly sympathies ; in fact, to shrivel and contract the soul in 
 proportion to the extent of the wealth. But there are many 
 notable exceptions to this ; and all honor to those who are able 
 to resist gold’s blighting influences. Rightly used, it is an as- 
 sistance, wrongly, a hindrance, to the acquirement of a manly 
 character. 
 
 Does intellect entitle its possessor to be called a man ? Truly, 
 it is superior to wealth, to blood or rank ; yet a man is some- 
 thing more than a mere intellectualist. W ould we call Byron 
 a man ? Behold the splendor of his intellect ; his grasp of 
 thought ; his clear and vivid conceptions ; the elevated diction ; 
 the elegant language of his poems. Literary criticism can only 
 praise their beauties ; their faults lie not in its domain. But 
 consider the direction of their tendancy — their effect upon the 
 reader. They tend to work corruption, they sink the purer 
 feelings of their reader, and cause him to blush for the absence 
 of virtue, the corruption of taste, the depravity of heart which 
 they reveal. See the intellectual powers displayed by the great 
 sceptical philosopher, David Hume. His reasonings are im- 
 pregnable, and, granting the correctness of his premises, prove 
 that we know nothing, that there is nothing real, — no virtue, no 
 truth, no God. Can we dignify him with the name of man ? 
 Gibbon, whose “ Decline and fall of the Roman Empire,” en- 
 titles him to rank among the greatest historians of any country 
 
13 
 
 or of any age, discovers his sceptical principles on almost every 
 page. While he teaches truth in historical facts, he teaches 
 error in everything beside. His attempts to destroy belief in 
 the truths of prophecy, deny to him the name of man. Look 
 at Sue, Bulwer, Dumas, Poe, and many others, what powers 
 of mind do they reveal, what unwearied industry ; yet their 
 productions teach nothing manly, but rather lower and debase 
 humanity. 
 
 What then does constitute a man in the true sense of the 
 term ? I answer : the effort to promote virtue, laboring for 
 the elevation of the race, being obedient to the government of 
 God. 
 
 Virtue is the foundation of all true happiness. God has or- 
 dained that society cannot exist without it ; that any society, 
 any state, to be prosperous and happy, must be virtuous. Those 
 historic nations, celebrated for their poets, historians, and wise 
 men, whose heroes we admire, and whose power and greatness 
 are frequently the subjects of our meditations, prove this to us. 
 While they were virtuous they prospered ; when they became 
 corrupt they fell — fell to make room for nations less corrupt. — 
 The Catacombs and Pyramiads of Egypt, the ruined Temples 
 and mouldering columns of Greece, the magnificent Pantheon 
 and the crumbling walls of the Coliseum at Rome, are to us so 
 many evidences that virtue is necessary to prosperity. 
 
 On all sides of us, in our very midst, there is going on a con- 
 tinual contest between virtue and vice. If we would see our 
 country prosperous ; if we love our country, “ the land of the 
 brave and free if we would be men , let us hasten to enlist 
 under the banner of virtue— let us strive our utmost that she 
 may reign triumphant ; and though her victories be bloodless 
 ones, we shall have none the less honor, we shall show ourselves 
 true men. 
 
 Between us and all others of our race there is a sympathetic 
 bond, too often unrecognized, but nevertheless existing. We 
 are all children of one common parent ; we are governed by one 
 supreme ruler ; we are heirs of one common inheritance. The 
 
14 
 
 black-faced son of Ethiopia, — the red-skined native-American, — 
 the ragged, oppressed and poverty-stricken child of Erin, — and 
 the fairest cheeked offspring of civilization and freedom, are of 
 one blood. And it is our duty as men to acknowledge this fra- 
 ternal union, by endeavoring to ameliorate and elevate the con- 
 dition of our fellow-creatures — by doing away with oppression 
 — with slavery both of the body and of the mind — by dispel- 
 ling the clouds of ignorance and superstition, which lower so 
 darkly over the souls of men. Do not think that because each 
 one can do but little, thefe will no good result from our en- 
 deavors. 
 
 There are noble men scattered throughout the world — men 
 who have felt the crushing hand of despotism,— men whose hearts 
 are bleeding at the cries for aid continually ascending from op- 
 pressed and benighted millions. And they are striving man- 
 fully. Already have they accomplished much. Cheered by 
 their success, they are striving all the more, and asking prayer- 
 fully for aid. Shall we, who are blessed with the advantages 
 of education and freedom, fail to respond, denying to others 
 what we know to be so good ? Because their numbers are few 
 and their labor so great shall we fear to join their ranks — 
 when we know that by so doing each one will increase the 
 number of laborers ; each new laborer extend the power of the 
 movement, both by his own influence and exertions and also by 
 his sympathy, and thus attain great results — advance to greater 
 conquests ? 
 
 And lastly, to be men we must be submissive to the govern- 
 ment of God. And by this I mean not only submission to the 
 commands of the decalogue, but also loyalty to our govern- 
 ment, obedience to the laws of our country. 
 
 All authority is of God, and if we would serve him we must 
 be true to our country. Had this principle been universally ac- 
 cepted and acted upon, we should not to-day have a divided 
 country ; rebellion and treason would not have reared their 
 hydra-heads in the midst of our once glorious confedracy. — 
 When we obey our country’s commands, let us remember that 
 
15 
 
 we are obeying the commands of God ; when we are plotting 
 against her existence, that we are conspiring against the coun- 
 sels of Jehovah. Does our country, through her constitution- 
 ally appointed rulers, call upon us to take arms and fight for 
 the supremacy of her laws ? Does she require us to leave the 
 society of our friends and the comforts of home to punish those 
 who are seeking her ruin ? Does she refuse to be dismember- 
 ed, to give up a portion of her fair domain to lawless pirates 
 and robbers, and ask us to make good her refusal ? If we are 
 truly men , if we desire to worship God, we will gird on our 
 armor, we will go forth to conquer or to die , believing it to be 
 a heavenly requirement, that the Lord is with us, and will de- 
 fend the right ! 
 
 Oh ! land of my birth, — thou who hast, since thy existence, 
 ever been the rallying point for freemen, a refuge for the op- 
 pressed, the terror of despotism, — may thy fair proportions never 
 be destroyed, thy mighty name never be weakened by ruffian 
 or rebellious subjects ! 
 
 Oil, glorious flag of my country fore’er mayst thou wave, 
 
 “ O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.” 
 
 May thy stripes ne’er be sullied, thy stars ne’er be fewer, 
 
 But forever and ever all-powerful endure ! 
 
 And now to you, sir, (turning to Rev. Dr. Wilson,) who, 
 during our College course, have watched over us and our edu- 
 cational interests with paternal care, I come, in behalf of my 
 class, to tender the parting tribute of our gratitude. The cour- 
 tesy with which you have treated us, the patience you have ex- 
 ercised towards our boyish freaks and faults, the manly sym- 
 pathy which you have shown us, have produced an impression 
 which will be lasting. With you we have considered the 
 lessons taught by history ; by your aid we have arrived at the 
 great principles which underlie and shape our common human- 
 ity ; with you to guide, we have explored the profound and hid. 
 den paths of Philosophy and Metaphysics. Guided no less by 
 your example than by your admonitions and instructions, we 
 hope to prove ourselves true men. Believe me, we intend no 
 empty compliment when we say to you, it will be our care and 
 
16 
 
 pride to emulate you in all that makes learning and wisdom 
 desirable, and humanity noble. 
 
 W e now bid you, and your respected associates in instrution, 
 an affectionate farewell. 
 
 To you, fellow-students, we now leave the interests, the pros- 
 perity, and the honor of our Alma Mater . During the last 
 four years we have made sensible progress. Earnest friends 
 have been and are working for “Old Hobart’s ” interests. We 
 hope soon to see her stand peerless and unrivalled. While you 
 still progress, be mindful to conserve all that has been gained. 
 May you fill our places better than we. We separate from you 
 now, but you will soon overtake and join us in the ranks of ac- 
 tive life. May we then all be class-mates — members of one 
 class, — the class of true , noble-hearted men. 
 
 And now, my class-mates, I turn to you. When we first met 
 here we were strangers, drawn together only by a common desire. 
 For four years we have enjoyed each others society, we have 
 participated in each others pleasures, we have sympathized with 
 each others sorrows ; together, morning and evening, we have, 
 with united voices and hearts, bowed before Almighty God ; 
 daily have we witnessed and enjoyed each others advancement 
 along the rugged path of science, and our hearts have become 
 knit together. We are no more strangers — we are brothers. — 
 And now we are about to part, — about to sever those friendly 
 bonds which have been growing firmer and firmer for four long 
 years. Language, — words are unavailing to portray our feel- 
 ings. We will cherish the memory of this hour as we do that 
 of departed friends. 
 
 But I do not see before me all who formerly were of our 
 number. Several who commenced their course with us are not 
 here to join in our class farewell. Some have already entered 
 into business life. Our class even now has representatives 
 among the brave defenders of our country’s honor. We part" 
 ed with them as we part with dear friends ; may they know 
 that we still remember them. 
 
 And once has Death laid his icy hand upon our number, chil- 
 
17 
 
 ling by liis touch not only the life’s blood of our departed class- 
 mate, but also the hearts of us, his brothers. God, in his in- 
 finite wisdom, has seen fit to take Malcolm Neil McLaren 
 home. Forced by failing health to leave his studies, we fondly 
 hoped that he would soon be able to rejoin us ; but He who 
 doeth every thing for the best, would not permit our hope to 
 be realized. 
 
 But this is no place for the indulgence of emotion. Let us, 
 -class-mates, as we mingle in the busy scenes of life, aim to make 
 “Old Hobart ” respected and honored, by showing that she 
 not only teaches her “foster-children ” Industry , Frugality and 
 Honesty , but also makes them promoters of virtue — elevators 
 of the race — loyal to our country and our God. 
 
 POEM. 
 
 BY BISON K. COWLES. 
 
 Oh who of you would ever thought 
 That I a poem should have wro’t ! 
 
 I’m sure my prosy predilections, 
 
 To those who made to-day’s selections 
 Were all unknown : and wondrous still 
 To think the Poet’s chair should fill 
 One who ne’er the muses courted, 
 
 Nor with the ancient Goddess sported : 
 
 One who believes that ancient Troy 
 With all its sorrow, all its joy, 
 
 With all its hosts of heroes brave 
 Who fought nine years an Eve to save ; 
 
 That “ swift- winged horses turned the wheels 
 Which dragged poor Hector by the heels 
 
18 
 
 Thrice ’round the sandy, Trojan plain 
 Whilst brave Achilles in proud disdain 
 Looked calmly on, as sure he must, 
 
 To see this warrior lick the dust : 
 
 That all those other wondrous men 
 Who fought and bled, and sometimes run, 
 Who stretched the bow till double bent 
 And “ death-bearing” arrows swiftly sent; 
 Who built a horse, — who can believe it — 
 
 Ten thousand warriors lived within it — 
 Which, walking into Priam’s town 
 While he in quiet sleep lies down, 
 
 Somewhat disturbed the Trojan’s slumber, 
 And men and women without number, 
 
 Half crazed by fear and shouting Greeks 
 En dishabille fill up the streets, 
 
 While shrieks and groans from every side 
 In waves rolled off an ebbing tide, 
 
 And clashing steel and awful slaughter 
 Made Priam think he’d caught a Tartar. 
 
 Oh ! such horrors ! who can tell ? 
 
 And thus that noble city fell. 
 
 All these I think, I say again, 
 
 Are creatures of poor Homer’s brain. 
 
 In Argonantic expeditions 
 
 And strong Prometheus’ sad afflictions, 
 
 That Venus sprung from Ocean’s foam 
 And Mermaids through the Ocean roam, 
 
 The Story of the Sybil’s cave 
 And Hercules, a Tyrant’s Slave, 
 
 Of Vulcan forging marvelous shields 
 Embossing there whole battle fields, 
 
 In Orpheus’ moving trees and mountains 
 And wondrous tales of perennial fountains ; 
 
 In fact, in all this ancient lore, 
 
 Which we have crammed four years or more, 
 The Poet’s fancy finds a theme, 
 
 The Poet’s self a lasting dream. 
 
 But why should I, at such a time, 
 
 Attempt to speak in pleasing rhyme 
 Of that which Poets long have sung, 
 
 With silvered words and honey’d tongue ? 
 
 Ho ! I will find no theme in these, 
 
 Let Poets sing them if they please. 
 
 But to us , this day ’twould seem 
 Demands indeed a different theme. 
 
19 
 
 This wondrous sphere of ours — alone 
 Oan see an image of its own 
 Reflected in this College home. 
 
 Politicians there are found, 
 
 And wire-pullers there abound : 
 
 Freshmen, assuming the airs of men, 
 
 With dignity exceeding mortal ken, 
 
 Stylish beavers on their heads 
 As free from hair* as Uncle Ned’s : 
 
 There we see the U. S. Senate, f 
 Discussing matters most important, 
 
 So lavish with appropriations, 
 
 They fairly rival greater nations : 
 
 War bills pass with one expression, 
 Denying the doctrine of Secession ; 
 
 Here, too, an administration 
 Which acts with^rm determination, 
 Peaceful policy is its assertion, 
 
 But hesitates not to use coercion. 
 
 Yes, College is a curious place — 
 
 ’Tis a “ little world within itself.” 
 
 To-day, to these we bid adieu — 
 
 A great stage opens on our view ; 
 
 Our Alma Mater’s last farewell 
 Rings ’round us like a funeral knell ; 
 
 Old Father Time, who knows no sleep, 
 
 On noiseless wings above us creeps ; 
 
 With scythe in hand, remorseless severs 
 The happy hours we’ve spent together. 
 
 Great men who’ve trod those halls before us, 
 Examples bright are shining o’er us : 
 
 Every comer, nook and stone 
 Is dear in that old College home. 
 
 One night, whilst in deep reverie lost, 
 
 With mournful thoughts my fancy tossed, 
 Whilst I lay perhaps a dreaming, 
 
 An aged form before me seeming 
 Stood. A mantle round him loosely hung, 
 White as the foam whence Venus sprung ; 
 With snowy locks dishevelled flowing, 
 
 His curved and wrinkled features bowing, 
 With bony hand his beard he stroked, 
 
 And thus I thought to me he spoke : 
 
 *The Freshmen wear their hair “Dead Rabbit.” 
 tttermean Society resolved into a miniature U. S. Senate. 
 
20 
 
 “ Yonder a lofty mountain raises 
 Proudly its hoary head. 
 
 A golden Temple crowns its summit, 
 
 Glittering in the light of day, 
 
 And many an eager eye is turned 
 Wistfully to that mountain top. 
 
 Along the mountain’s side, many 
 Are seen to wend their way ; 
 
 And toiling, struggling up the 
 Steep straight path, come forth 
 From that Temple clothed 
 In new light. 
 
 Wrapped in a mantle of learning, 
 
 Heady to buffet the world’s harsh cares, 
 
 And strong in their power of might, 
 
 Eager to contend with their fellow men 
 In the great game of life, and 
 Buoyed up with the 
 Fire and fervor of youth, 
 
 On, on, they pass. 
 
 Some cry Excelsior, and with 
 Their standard planted high, 
 
 Climb, Climb, till from 
 The high pinnacle of Fame 
 They turn to receive the 
 Homage of their fellow men. 
 
 Others, with less ambitious views, 
 
 Having felt perhaps in life’s first morn 
 The chilly touch of blighted hopes, 
 
 Or shunned by Fortune’s sweet caress, 
 
 Silently pass on, to fame unknown, 
 
 Content with the riches of a mind well stored, 
 And happy in the enjoyment of a quiet life, 
 They ask no greater boon ; but cherished 
 In the hearts of a sacred few, 
 
 Sink down to rest in 
 The eternal sleep of death. 
 
 What is that Golden Temple yonder 
 On the mountain’s crest ? 
 
 Whence issue one by one 
 These noble bands of youth ? 
 
 Has not something already whispered, 
 
 ’Tis the ‘ Armory of Truth !’ ” 
 
 Thus the old man spoke ; 
 
 And as fleecy clouds before the wind 
 
21 
 
 Heavenward fly, so he disappeared. 
 
 Brothers, to-day sends forth another 
 Band. We’ve struggled, toiled, 
 
 The summits gained ; and now, prepared 
 To breast the world’s rough waves, 
 
 We’ll go, determined whate’er our fortunes be, 
 
 To act our part like men ! 
 
 Four years of time — . 
 
 So the world tells us — all have passed away 
 Since first we met beneath these classic walls 
 To learn to read each other’s hearts. 
 
 To some, a quiet life it’s been ; to others, fraught 
 With every shifting scene ; and to all, 
 
 Filled with the bright lessons Wisdom’s taught. 
 
 The bell each morn, with clanging, clattering tongue. 
 Has roused each dreamer back to earth ; 
 
 And day by day has called alike 
 
 Each careless, thoughful student 
 
 To that sacred house where 
 
 The mingled harmony of many-voiced prayer 
 
 Has gently risen to the Throne above. 
 
 The mom has blushed at Aurora’s kiss, 
 
 The world rolled into noon ; and at eve 
 The sunset glory flushed the golden street. 
 
 The fluttering leaves have drooped to mother earth, 
 The frost has gemmed the crystal pane, 
 
 The winter’s touch has closed the Lake’s blue eye, 
 And laid its shroud o’er dead summer’s breast : 
 
 The gentle breath of spring has drawn 
 Cold winter’s winding sheet : The flowers 
 Decked with every hue, with sweetest fragrance 
 Fill the air : The feathered songsters 
 Gaily warble from each leafy bough, 
 
 And, lo ! smiling summer has come again ! 
 
 Four years have passed since first we spied 
 Adown the aisle of years, 
 
 This day of days towards which we’ve hied 
 With mingled hopes and fears ; 
 
 But that which bound our student time 
 Seems only just begun, 
 
 We stand where we have tolled to climb, 
 
 And work must yet be done. 
 
 All the festooned folds above us 
 Are of friendship’s golden hue ; 
 
22 
 
 And we know that hearts that love us 
 Beat in every breast and true ; 
 
 And in every eye is beaming 
 That which we cannot speak, 
 
 And our saddened hearts are teeming 
 With the love we would not break. 
 
 Let us turn and look behind us, 
 
 Down the crags that we have scaled; 
 For these memories all remind us, 
 
 That with sternest purpose mailed, 
 Led by duty and ambition, 
 
 Though unequal be the strife, 
 
 We can conquer opposition 
 In the upward path of life. 
 
 And as at the hour of even, 
 
 When the daylight drops to sleep, 
 
 In the palace halls of heaven 
 Bright stars their vigils keep ; 
 
 So when years have rolled above us, 
 
 And eternity draws nigh, 
 
 We can see bright stars above us 
 In memory’s placid sky. 
 
 As when one leaves his native land, 
 Another clime to wander through, 
 
 He sees, as on the deck he stands, 
 
 A home now fading from his view ; 
 
 So let us now cease from longing 
 For the Future’s golden rays, 
 
 Gazing back upon the thronging 
 “ Memories of College days.” 
 
 These pleasant memories, tinct with joy, 
 Come up as now our work is done, 
 
 As little flecks of rosy cloud 
 Come out above the setting sun. 
 
 The dear old recitation room, 
 
 The well known faces in a row, 
 
 The little ills that vexed us oft, 
 
 And many things that pleased us so ; 
 
 And then the student’s hearty laugh — 
 Always so round and full — 
 
3 
 
 Which seemed to shake the College walls 
 When some one made a bull ; 
 
 And when the winds of winter blew, 
 
 And frosty star-lights twinkling shone, 
 We’d gather ’round the social hearth 
 To tell of joys now dimmed and gone. 
 
 The Campus, too, could tell its tale 
 Of Student’s skill and strife ; 
 
 And loud huzzahs which echo forth, 
 
 “ Success in Student life !” 
 
 How oft we’ve spread the snowy sail 
 On yonder crystal Lake, 
 
 Our light bark dancing o’er the waves, 
 Whilst round us billows break ; 
 
 Or, manning each a sturdy oar, 
 
 We’d swiftly speed along, 
 
 The dipping strokes in unison 
 With the music of our song. 
 
 When silver dew-drops radiant beam, 
 And trembling stars pale vigils keep ; 
 When moonshine floweth like a stream, 
 And shadows o’er the landscape creep : 
 
 How often then we’ve wandered forth, 
 When heart to heart would speak ; 
 
 And loving eyes and blushing cheeks 
 A glance, tho’ shunned, would seek. 
 
 These are the precious memories, 
 
 That go with us as we roam, 
 
 With our mother’s parting blessing, 
 
 As we leave our College home. 
 
 But in every cup of gladness, 
 
 Tho’ filled e’en to the brim, 
 
 ’Tis strange a drop of sadness 
 Must surely enter in. 
 
 When e’er I grasp a class-mate’s hand, 
 And kindly words be spoken, 
 
 Sad memory breathes a tearful word, 
 
 “ A band already broken !” 
 
24 
 
 A smiling face I see, 
 
 A class-mate’s hand gives me 
 Gentlest greeting ; 
 
 That hand lies low in dust, 
 
 That heart to piece we trust 
 
 Stilled its beating. 
 
 Above the music’s swell, 
 
 The slowly tolling bell 
 
 Bears on the breeze, 
 
 A mournful funeral knell 
 
 For this our brother, who sleeps well 
 
 Beneath the grave-yard’s trees. 
 
 From the heavenly glory spread, 
 
 Thro’ high arches overhead, 
 
 An angel voice replied : 
 
 “ Henceforward blessed are the dead, 
 
 Who in the Lord have died !” 
 
 To-day our College life is o’er ! 
 
 For us the mournful word no more, 
 
 Like far-off broken surges roar 
 On some high and rock bound shore, 
 
 Is spoken sad and low. 
 
 ’Tis written in these happy years, 
 
 With all their hopes and all their fears ; 
 
 ’Tis written in each class-mate’s tears, 
 
 As now the hour of parting nears, 
 
 When we must go. 
 
 The Future stands all bright and fair, 
 
 Her hands the unopen volume bear : 
 
 She bids us haste that we may share 
 The honors that are written there ; 
 
 And proud hope beckoning calls. 
 
 Her eager voice is full of cheer ; 
 
 But memory urges, “ tany here !” 
 
 The music of the past is dear, 
 
 And softly on the listening ear 
 
 Her gentle whisper falls. 
 
 But duty calls, we must obey, 
 
 We cannot linger here ; 
 
 Let pleasant memories chase away 
 The cares of days more drear. 
 
25 
 
 To-day a voice rings through this land — 
 
 A voice indeed far stranger 
 Than that which e’er was heard before, 
 
 “ Our country is in danger !” 
 
 It tells us of a battle field — 
 
 A stern and deadly strife — 
 
 Where we must overcome or yield 
 The noblest aim of life. 
 
 The glorious banner of the free ! 
 
 The symbol of all that’s just ! 
 
 By traitor’s hands has been disgraced, 
 
 And humbled in the dust. 
 
 Beneath that flag our father’s fought ; 
 
 And blood in torrents run 
 That we might live as freemen here, 
 
 And Tyrant’s power shun ! 
 
 Then, brothers, when our country calls, 
 
 O, bravely struggle then ; 
 
 And when the deadly strife grows warm, 
 
 We’ll prove ourselves right valient men I 
 
 And should the traitors’ whisper low, 
 
 That war’s a weary thing, 
 
 That better we might trust the foe 
 And take the terms they bring ; 
 
 O, faithful be your answer given : 
 
 “ No rest until the strife is striven !” 
 
 Go then, brothers, choose your life’s work ; 
 
 But whatever be the plan, 
 
 Let there be in all its purpose 
 Nothing meaner than the man ! 
 
 This afternoon, upon the College green, 
 
 We’ll gather once again a class complete 
 To tell the story of our College life, 
 
 And add one more bright garland to the wreath 
 Cf sunny memories that crowns the days ; 
 
 Once more thro’ all the emerald domes shall ring 
 Our classmates’ voices in the hearty song, 
 
 Till the soft winds that listen in the trees 
 Shall hear our last farewells, and whisper them 
 In low sweet music round the silent walls. 
 
26 
 
 Brothers, faithful, earnest hearted, 
 Pledge the memories of yore, 
 
 While we sing of joys departed, 
 
 And the days of nevermore : 
 
 While the hands that soon must sever 
 Clasp once more in friendship true, 
 Plight we now our faith forever, 
 
 As we say our last adieu ! 
 
 Brothers, in these halls of learning 
 All too swift the years have flown, 
 Now our hearts are sadly turning 
 Toward the days forever gone ; 
 
 But from out the Past’s dim portal 
 Cheering voices sweetly tell, 
 Memory makes these scenes immortal,. 
 Though we bid them all farewell ! 
 
 REMARKS OF CHAS. T. OGDEN 
 
 ON PRESENTING, IN BEHALF OF THE SENIOR CLASS, AN 
 INDIAN PADDLE TO THE JUNIOR CLASS. 
 
 Fellow Students, Ladies and Gentlemen : 
 
 We have met together at an unpropitious hour, to celebrate a day 
 which we fondly hope will be hereafter set apart and observed — a day 
 that will strengthen in the highest degree all our warm affections for our 
 Alma Mater, and tend more than all others to promote that friendly feel- 
 ing and brotherly love which should fill the hearts of those who, associa- 
 ting together for long years, are now about to separate forever. The voice of 
 war penetrating our quiet abode of learning has lessened that interest 
 which prompted all to so laudable an undertaking, and has thrilled every 
 heart with the longing for action rather than with the desire to establish 
 a day of mirth and pleasure for future generations. 
 
 The most glowing descriptions of a once powerful nation, of whom 
 scanty relics alone remain to tell of their former greatness ; the most 
 
2 1 
 
 graphic recital of their sylvan abodes and dream-like life ; the most stirring 
 accounts of their exploits in war against other savage tribes, will possess 
 little of interest to your active minds, striving with all their powers to 
 discern the future. But with all the discouragements which oppose my 
 design of awakening your sympathy for the fate of a powerful tribe, whose 
 birchen bark once glided peacefully on the silvery bosom of yon fair lake, 
 I have no less a duty to perform in bringing to light a recent discovery, 
 which may tend in some measure to endear to your memory those noble 
 sons of the forest. 
 
 “ Realm of the Senecas ; no more 
 In shadow lies the pleasant vale. 
 
 Gone are the Chiefs who ruled of yore. 
 
 Like chaff before the rushing gale : 
 
 Fled are their pomps and power like dreams, 
 
 By scribe unmarked, by hard unsung ; 
 
 But mountains, lakes, and rolling streams 
 Recall their wild rich forest tongue, 
 
 And names of melody they hear 
 Sweeter than flute notes on the air.” 
 
 Who has not listened with wonder to the legend of the Seneca ? How 
 Agayenteh, a young and haughty chief, impelled by an evil spirit, broke 
 in anger from the councils of the nation, and guiding his frail bark to a 
 distance from the multitude assembled on the shady bank, threw in his 
 line in disobedience of the commands of the Great Spirit : how, on the 
 instant, fearful lightnings rent the air — deep prolonged thunders mut- 
 tered a curse upon his head : how the earth heaved, and the waters, moved 
 by a mighty wind, removed from their sight the boat of Agayenteh, and 
 then all was quiet save the gentle ripple of the waves. 
 
 Gentlemen, it has been reserved for the class of “ 61 ” to show to the 
 world that this same Indian legend is not without foundation ; for a labori- 
 ous research has disclosed the fact that this priceless relic of the past was 
 once the paddle of that Indian warrior. And now having guided our 
 bark safely through the shoals and quicksands of College life, we have 
 determined to leave the same within those walls, not only to be held as 
 sacred on account of its antiquity, but as a dreadful warning to those who 
 are inclined to disobey prescribed laws and acknowledged authority. 
 
 About two years ago, in the month of September, I chanced to stray on 
 the borders of the lake, and reaching the opposite side, my attention was 
 attracted by the working of a machine employed in widening the outlet. 
 While standing on the flat-boat which received the contents of the shovel, 
 I noticed several Indian arrow heads, and in my search for more I found, 
 in addition to the flints, three Indian hatchets, a human skull, a curiously 
 wrought polished stone, and the present paddle. From these relics I in- 
 ferred that the spot had been the final resting place of some long deceased 
 
28 
 
 Indian Warrior. Nor was I mistaken ; for by a careiul study of the stone f 
 combined with my previous knowledge of Indian hieroglyphics, I decipher- 
 e d that the elevation in the left-hand corner of the stone corresponded to 
 the Indian Go-nun-de-wah, or Great Hill — the supposed origin of the 
 Seneca tribe, and plainly declaring his nation. In the centre a bounding 
 deer, a well-known symbol to portray a chief of the Senecas, attested the 
 rank of the departed ; while in the lower portion of the stone a broken 
 boat, lying upon huge billows, attested the manner of his death. From 
 these minutiae, we have perfect confidence in the deduction that we pos- 
 sess the paddle of that Indian Warrior Agayenteh. 
 
 And now, gentlemen, while about to commit this treasure to other hands 
 for safe keeping, allow me to add a few words of advice and admonition^ 
 We are about to entrust to your care a key to the past. A clew as it were 
 to the secrets of centuries. All doubts and uncertainties which have here- 
 tofore puzzled the minds of the learned as to the credibility of this ancient 
 legend, are now entirely removed. It is, therefore, on account of its in- 
 estimable historic character that you are to prize and preserve it. You 
 are the first link in the endless chain which shall become attached to this 
 endeared memento. It rests with you to impart with fidelity an accurate 
 account of its former possessorship. To what a depth of mental anguish 
 and cruel torture would we be driven ; what a weight of sorrow and mis- 
 ery would fall upon us ; what a dismal world, with its blasted hopes and 
 withered lives, did we suppose for a moment that the truth committed to 
 you this day, through our neglect, would ever be commingled with the 
 base fabrications of daring innovators. And again, beware lest the love 
 of sordid gold prevail over your upright principles ; for soon, when Rumor 
 shall have noised abroad that you possess a treasure from the store-house 
 of antiquity, some owner of mermaids w T ill seek to add this also as an at- 
 tractive feature to his hoarded relics. 
 
 Be faithful to your trust, and the present generation will not alone award 
 you a full mede of praise ; but centuries hence your names will be en- 
 rolled among those who loved their fellow-men. And finally, you are to 
 guard and protect it for the tender memories and dear associations which 
 cluster around it. You are to esteem and revere it for the silent language 
 which it will ever proclaim to the sorrowing hearts of each departing 
 class with whom it shall have been entrusted. Even now the memory of 
 our voyage through College life would fain dwell longer to recount the 
 many adventures and passing scenes which crowded on our course. How 
 inexperienced hands could scarcely keep our tottering boat from beneath 
 the water falls with which the artful Sophomores threatened to engulph 
 us ; and having passed this port in our onward course, how the more 
 dreadful Scilla and Charybdis of suspension and expulsion struck terror to 
 
29 
 
 our hearts, while forgetful of our own, we kindly offered our assistance 
 to guide a more verdant craft. In Junior year, how lovely Circean maidens 
 would beckon us from our path with their fairy forms and lovely smiles, 
 and we would gladly yield to their many allurements. These recollec- 
 tions crowd upon us ; but alas, the present warns us that, 
 
 The Senior boat has reached the other shore, 
 
 O’er is our College life, its emblem, too, is oar ; 
 Take it and guard it nobly, I Implore. 
 
 In times to come. Let all who fondly pore 
 O’er this sole i*elic of the days of yore. 
 
 Fraught with deep spells of cabalistic lore, 
 Remember us, who from this paddle tox‘e 
 Oblivions gloomy pall that veiled it o’er ; 
 
 And on the thi’eshold of their College door 
 To 6ixty-one, who bravely went before, 
 
 A full and glorious libation pore, 
 
 With may a long and lingering Enchore , 
 
 In memory of those days that will return no more 1 
 
 IN BEHALF OF THE JUNIOR CLASS. 
 
 Sir -In receiving this paddle, this memorial, this inheritance from 
 yourself, as representing the class of 1861, allow me to say, that the class 
 of 1862, of which I have the honor to be the exponent, w T ill never prove 
 itself false or recreant to the trust thus committed to their care. But, 
 after the class of ’61 has departed from the classic realm of “ Old Hobart,” 
 and is sent forth upon the great battle-field of life, the class of ’62, pre- 
 serving this paddle until the time shall come for its exodus, shall pass it 
 on to the class below, with many injunctions to do their duty as regards 
 it, well and faithfully living up to the spirit and genius of the glorious 
 institution thus commenced and founded. 
 
 What a thrill of pleasure will strike upon your heart, sir, when in some 
 future day — say, for instance, the year 9,999, when the site of Hobart will 
 cover three counties of the Empire State — you shall unconsciously wend 
 your way towards your Alma Mater, and see this identical paddle which 
 in your youthful wanderings you exhumed from the grave of centuries. 
 You undoubtedly will sigh, sir, for your youthful days, and look with 
 grief upon your once raven locks, fast becoming white from exposure to 
 the sorrows of 8,158 winters. Then, sir, and not till then will you look 
 with joy upon the days of horizontal parallax, and spherical aberration. 
 
30 
 
 Looking through the telescope of your mincl, of course taking into con- 
 sideration Astronomical Refraction and the obliquity of the ecliptic, you 
 will find the right ascension and declination of those scales you loved so 
 well, and linger around them until the earth, having completed its diur- 
 nal revolution, shall warn you to change your zenith and place yourself 
 <on a plane parallel to the horizon. 
 
 Yes, you have truly said, sir, that this paddle bears with it a fearful 
 warning. It is pregnant with emblematic truth. Each time that we 
 behold it the terrible fate of the Indian war-chief Agayenteh, who spurn- 
 ed with contempt the commands of the Great Spirit, will dance athwart 
 our mind’s vision, causing a shudder through the stoutest frame, and ad- 
 monishing all, that although the fat old Roman poet Horace, uttered 
 those remarkable words, “ Pone me" yet it is better, far better to lexicon- 
 ize, and dig out musty classics by the sweat of the brow. The days of 
 bolts will now have passed into a grave of oblivion ; no more will the 
 face of General Damages be seen squinting around smashed back-stoops 
 and broken window sashes, and no more will gigantic and ponderous 
 bills for contingents greet our astonished gaze. 
 
 The class of ’62, full of grateful remembrance to the class of ’61, using 
 this paddle will endeavor to steer adown the stream of College life, avoid- 
 ing the whirlpools which may threaten to engulph it. When the haven 
 where it would be is at last reached, when ’62 shall have a wife and be- 
 come a candidate for the silver cup , he shall relate to the prattling young- 
 ster upon his knee the awful wonders and lessons of this mysterious pad_ 
 file. 
 
 Members of the class of 1861. You are upon the eve of your departure 
 from places beloved and hallowed. You are about to leave the College 
 halls which for the last four years have re-echoed to your footsteps. You 
 are to separate yourself, perhaps forever, from scenes and ties of friend- 
 ship, which, whilst living will cluster around your hearts, and when 
 dead shall not be forgotten. This day witnesses the termination of your 
 College career. This day beholds you assembled together, as a body, for 
 perhaps the last time. Check not the outgushing of the fountain which 
 comes bubbling up from the seat of friendship and love. Brush not 
 away the tear which starts from your eye, for it looks not unmanly to 
 see it glistening upon your cheek. Your accustomed presence around 
 Hobart will be greatly missed. Your seats in that chapel where twice 
 each day we may be seen uniting in prayer and praise to our Common 
 Rather, will now be filled by others. The superior voice which you ob- 
 tained by virtue of your seniority in all college affairs, will no longer be 
 heard. Another class — the class of 1862 — now takes your place, and in 
 the name of that class permit me to tell you that it will strain every 
 
31 
 
 nerve to perform with honor each part that is bequeathed to it by its 
 illustrious predecessor, the class of ’61. 
 
 Members of the class of ’61 : In the name of the class which I upon 
 this occasion represent, I bid you a last farewell. Farewell 1 — how that 
 word awakens the sympathetic bosom, and bids each finer feeling of our 
 human nature start forth into action. We linger and hesitate before we 
 pronounce it. But it must be spoken — Farewell — Farewell. 
 
 HISTORY OF THE CLASS OF ’ 61 . 
 
 BY MARTIN COOPER. 
 
 Motto — “ Semper Paratus.” 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 If a history of the class of ’61 were written out in detail, by an accom- 
 plished historian, it would be one of the most interesting, thrilling and 
 instructive volumes of literature the world ever saw ; for we may safely 
 say, there never was a class in Hobart College, nor any other college, 
 whose career was more replete with soul-stirring events and proofs of 
 what genius can accomplish, when properly directed, than is the illustri- 
 ous and glorious college career of the class of ’61. This class in spite of 
 suspensions, expulsions and war’s alarms, is larger than any class that 
 ever graduated from Hobart before. 
 
 Many disconnected events in the real history of this class are already 
 familiar to the people of Geneva ; while its songs, its daring deeds, and 
 hair-breadth escapes are sung with rapture and told over r mid peals of 
 laughter in every State of our Union. The history of the class of ’61 
 dates back to September 1st, 1857. Therefore, to attempt to write a his- 
 tory of events that have constantly been transpiring, in as copius a style 
 as even that of Thucydides, would be to swell this mere compendium 
 into a volume that would require a week to peruse. But, class-mates, 
 we have endeavored to make brevity the soul of wit, in order that, by the 
 time your farewell pipes are smoked out, we shall have done reading the 
 history of our College days, which we have at your request penned. 
 
32 
 
 We have purposely abstained from mentioning any of those scrapes 
 which we were not confident were originated by members of this class. 
 We will not speak now of any such tricks as breaking into the Janitor’s 
 cellar, placing cayene pepper on the stove to raise the temperature of the 
 room, nor of dining at a late hour on Faculty grapes and Faculty ale ; nor 
 of the greasing of black boards, and the throwing of Freshmen and fur- 
 niture into the lake after smoking them out. But we would refer in this 
 history to the sublimer scrapes, which always went off best on a stormy 
 night, when the rain-drops fell thick and fast, and when the muttering 
 thunders kept all but the daring members of ’61 in their rooms. Then it 
 was that ’61 enacted deeds which make “ Tom Brown at Oxford,” and 
 other College scrapes read like children’s stories. We shall dwell longer 
 on the events of Freshman year, as they were times which “ tried men’s 
 souls and then hasten our history to this eventful day, the proceedings 
 of which will ever be remembered with the greatest interest by all who 
 participated in its pleasures and its joys. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 On the 2d of September, seventeen rather diminutive looking Freshmen 
 were assembled around Tutor Dunbar, within the walls of Hobart Col- 
 lege. What were they doing there ? They were busily engaged in 
 trying to translate the preface of Livy’s History of Rome. Strangers to 
 Geneva, to the Faculty, and to one another. Having presented Dr. Hale 
 with a huge bundle of testimonials of good moral character, they were 
 about commencing that illustrious College career which is now about to 
 close. The recitation is soon over, and Tutor and Freshmen go back to 
 their rooms through showers of water. At 4 o’clock the old College bell 
 again calls them together to recite a few lines in Xenephon’s celebrated 
 Cyropedia, under the instruction of Prof. Wheeler. The Henoia poth 
 hamin hegeneto is rendered satisfactorily, and they are again dismissed ; 
 but as soon as their diminutive forms appear in front of the College build- 
 ings, 0 Tempora , O Moses, buckets of water, describing in their descent 
 parabolas with mathematical precision, cause them to look up and trem- 
 ble at their fate, and scatter sine mora , in all directions. Night comes on 
 — the first night the class of ’61 ever spent within College walls ; and 
 when its deep darkness has involved the world in sleep, the exiled Fresh- 
 men have their cogitations of home and absent friends distracted by loud 
 thunders at their doors, and by the entrance of not less than a dozen vil- 
 lainous Sophomores, armed to the teeth with clay pipes, oyster cans filled 
 with tobacco, and meerchaums. They unceremoniously seat themselves, 
 and begin to entertain the Freshmen by telling old College tales, and by 
 blowing huge curly spires of tobacco smoke from their smoking apparatus. 
 
The smoke soon became thick enough to cut in slices, when Freshmen, 
 Sophomores and all, seemed like ghosts of the departed crossing the Stygian 
 wave ; and the horrid barking of old Babcock, more dismal amid the 
 smoke than the howls of the triple-jaw r ed Ceberus himself. Twelve o’- 
 clock of the first night came ; but alas, alas, the Sophs, were still prowling 
 around, bearing large pails of water, and well charged squirt guns, and 
 woe to those members of ’61 who were then sleeping; for the bloody 
 Sophs, came upon them as so many demons of the ocean, and washed 
 them completely out of their couches. 
 
 Such was the existing state of affairs during the first three weeks of our 
 College life, when our first class meeting was held. That meeting was 
 called for the purpose of concerting and adopting plans for mutual defence 
 against the Sophs. Mr. Perrine arose and said, it was his opinion that 
 forbearance had ceased to be a virtue, that several members of the class 
 had been basely insulted ; he therefore moved that the members of ’61 
 pledge their sacred honor in defence of one another. The sentiments of 
 the members having been very freely expressed, Mr. Perrine’s motion 
 was unanimously adopted. That resolution was the pulling off of the 
 Lion’s skin from the asses, yclept the class of ’60. Their cowardice ever 
 after rendered them subjects for general ridicule and laughter. But the 
 class of ’61 were from that time invincible. So great is the power of 
 unity, and so many are the blessings of Union. Of the seventeen men 
 that then constituted the class of ’61, only nine have followed it through- 
 out its various fortunes, and will graduate with it. 
 
 Being now no longer molested by the Sophs., and having become well 
 acquainted with one another, they began again their Freshmen tricks, and 
 comical capers generally. The first scrape they got into was plotted du- 
 ring a social time at the Gem ; it was a complete success. And so un- 
 satisfactory were the old College capers, that we always got up our plots 
 to suit the occasion and the daring spirit of the class. “ Never in the his- 
 tory of Hobart College,” said Dr. Metcalf, “ did a Freshman class cut 
 up so many moonshines.” Contingents were never so high as at the com- 
 mencement of the second term ; and yet only one man was suspended 
 during the first long term of sixteen weeks. This unfortunate man was 
 popular among his class-mates, always ready to lend his aid in any man- 
 ner that would contribute to Tutor Dunbar’s happiness, and so the class 
 had reason for regretting that one of their Rising stars was so soon 
 obliged to leave. A desperate attempt was made to get him back. Peti- 
 tions were sent into the Faculty, but all in vain ; Dr. Wilson, who was 
 then President, pro tempore , is the last man in the world to reverse a de- 
 cision once made ; and as he can prove by logic that any man is in the 
 wrong, even when he is right, he can always sustain his position. Mr. 
 
34 
 
 Heber Smith, who was then President of the class, appointed Mr. Dutf 
 to hand in a petition to the Faculty in regard to the affair. In consequence 
 of which Mr. Duff was accused of bootlicking the Faculty, and- together 
 with Mr. Charles Allen, voted out of class meetings, hut was voted 
 hack again during the second term Freshman. 
 
 Thanksgiving day was then near at hand, and as many of the members 
 had not become thoroughly domesticated in College life, they resolved to 
 have an entertainment for the purpose of attaching themselve&more close- 
 ly to their Alma Mater, and at the same time to detach themselves more 
 effectually from their original Maters, whom they had several weeks be- 
 ore left at home. Their modus operandi was an improvement on that 
 adopted by Robinson Crusoe, when he drowned thoughts of home with a 
 glass of whiskey punch ; for in addition to that indispensable article, the 
 class had a good supply of Oysters, wine, crackers, &c. During the en- 
 tertainment, which was held at No. 1 Geneva Hall, a room occupied by 
 Teall, some members of the Faculty came to the door and applied for 
 admission ; but as it was exclusively a class affair they were of course re 1 - 
 fused. The room was alive with mirth and jollity, and filled with dense 
 clouds of tobacco smoke. About two o’clock the guests departed for their 
 various couches, most of them accompanied by friends to prevent their 
 running jnto the Faculty, as they felt highly indignant towards that dis- 
 tinguished body. The mercenary Faculty, however, charged Teall five 
 dollars for the right to give an entertainment, and the class five dollars' 
 more for accepting of an invitation to a quiet College party. 
 
 Our history now treats of the energetic manner in which the class of 
 ’61 trained Tutor Dunbar out of College. It had in its course thus far, 
 enjoyed the instructions of Prof. Wheeler in the Greek language ; but 
 the Faculty, in their wisdom, saw fit to substitute Tutor Dunbar as in- 
 structor in the Cyropedia, as the Prof, was not thought competent to teach 
 Greek as difficult as most of Xenephon’s works. This caused a general 
 dissatisfaction among the members of the class, and thinking they might 
 again recite to Prof. W. if Dunbnr was removed, they resolved to train 
 him out of College. Accordingly they went into the recitation room with 
 pockets filled with torpedoes, Cayenne pepper, and a supply of assafoetida, 
 and while the bell was tolling, and Tutor D. was cramming up his Greek, 
 they amused themselves by throwing their torpedoes and chapeux at his 
 caput ; and whilst one was translating, the remainder kept up a perfect 
 shower of torpedoes, kicked over the benches, and engaged in many other 
 elegant occupations of alike description. He would often enquire, “ Did 
 you tip that bench over ?” but after asking the same question just sixteen 
 times, he must have been convinced that the benches fell over entirely of 
 their own accord. The Janitor had orders at last to nail the benches 
 
down ; but even nails refuse to hold, so prone were they to fall over and 
 break their backs. The gallant Dunbar viewed all these performances 
 unmoved ; but when the fragrant fumes of Cayenne pepper, mingled with 
 the odorous exhalations of assafoetida, arose from the stove, then it was 
 that the almost suffocated Tutor hurled forth fearful anathemas against 
 the class, and precipitately rushed out of the room, followed by the vic- 
 torious ’61. 
 
 It was night. Tutor Dunbar was in his room, wasting the midnight 
 oil over his Cyropedia, when all at once his attention was attracted by 
 countless pieces of anthracite coal, which having passed through his win- 
 dows, were rattling around his head in a most promiscuous manner. But 
 still Dunbar, like Poe’s Crow, remained undaunted, although desolate, 
 until the term closed, when he took his departure for the Theological 
 Seminary. 
 
 The examinations were then at hand, and as it was the first College ex- 
 amination of the class of ’61, they applied themselves diligently to cram- 
 ming, and making careful preparations for smouging. This ordeal was suc- 
 cessfully passed by all the class ; and they finished their arduous labors 
 of the term by issuing about two thousand most excellent burlesques on 
 the Sophomore blow of the class of ’60, after which the College was ad- 
 journed for two weeks. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Christmas vacation passed, and the old bell again called the students of 
 Hobart College together in the Chapel, among whom, arranged on the 
 back seats, was the, as yet, non-matriculated class of ’61, greatly refresh- 
 ed by home influences, and well prepared for another vigorous campaign. 
 But alas ! Autumn, with its delicious and seductive fruits, had long since 
 -departed. Prex’s. grape-vines were divested of all their luscious clusters ; 
 nor did the apple trees longer attract the attention of the class of ’61. — 
 Old Winter, with his boreal blasts and drifting snows, reigned supreme, 
 so the class could improve but little on the programme laid down by the 
 Faculty. Dunbar had departed, and there was little more to attract at- 
 tention from Geometry, Hannibal’s Exploits with the Romans, and Ovid’s 
 Nursery Stories, than the whistling of the winds around the College walls 
 and the merry sissing of the kettle on the stove ; consequently the class 
 made very rapid progress in the above-mentioned studies. It was during 
 this term that the Faculty deprived us of the presence of IIeber Smith, 
 so that only fifteen original members of the class remained. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 At the beginning of the third term, M. B. Folwell commenced his 
 College life as a member of the class of ’61, also J. H. H. Millett, Esq., 
 
36 
 
 A. B., then commenced his celebrated College career ; consequently the 
 class numbered as many as it did before the odorous compounds were 
 placed on the stove, and before Prof. Wheeler’s keg of ale was appro- 
 priated by its members. The class amused themselves this short term by 
 singing the hexameter songs of Homer to Prof. Wheeler, and the some- 
 what questionable odes of Old Horace to Dr. Metcalf ; digging into the 
 mysteries of conic sections ; studying the laws of permutations, as laid 
 down by Hoyle; and reading in the original text a great part of Paul’s 
 Epistles to the Thesselonians. It was at this time that the sobriquet of 
 Leather was applied to Dr. Metcalf ; by whom was never known, al- 
 though it has clung to him ever since ; but we feel assured that the title 
 is not appropriate, and only a dM-aphorical way of speaking. On the 
 seventeenth day of May the class took their Sophomore seats in Chapel 
 and for the remainder of the term did not study enough to seriously im- 
 pair their somewhat exhausted energies ; but when the time for the last 
 grand examinations of the year had come, the black boards were greased 
 so that they passed off smoothly and swiftly. Commencement was now 
 at hand, and the class of ’61, accompanied by the rest of the College, and 
 Sutherland’s band, marched in procession to Linden Hall, and listened to 
 the orations which the class of ’58 then and there pronounced, after which 
 with many sad farewells they departed for home. 
 
 SOPHOMORE YEAR. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The nine weeks’ vacation which followed the close of Freshman year, 
 and the addition of eleven members to the class, together with the studies, 
 the privileges, and the glorious name of Sophomore, inspired the class 
 with new life, at once classical, cheerful, elevated, useful and sublime. — 
 They were the j oiliest set of Sophs, that ever raised their songs on high, 
 “ in token of their College days so swiftly passing by.” Hard, hard in- 
 deed, was the fate of those mother’s sons who were Freshmen in those 
 days ; for it was no longer cowardly ’60, but brave ’61 that handled the 
 Sophomore utensils. No lesson was so long and hard but that they found 
 time to attend to the more arduous duties of training the Freshmen in the 
 way they should go, when they at last became Sophomores. No cost was 
 spared when miniature hydraulic rams, oyster cans, tobacco, and such 
 necessaries were to be procured ; and at the close of their Sophomore 
 year the class of ’61 had the pleasing satisfaction of having a well trained 
 lot of Freshmen — Delancey Stow being among the number. 
 
 It was during the first part of this term that the class of 61 visited Old 
 Alabaster’s, (a brewer in the precincts of Geneva,) who as usual met them 
 with a smiling face, cups o’erflowing with the healthy beverage, and Mrs. 
 Alabaster at his side, who as usual had innumerable complaints to make 
 
37 
 
 about the manner in which she had been treated by the class of ’60, and 
 numerous long stories to relate concerning her son John, who it seems liad 
 just been and gone and got a wife, and she was going to Rochester to make 
 him a present of a cradle. After a social hour spent with the old folks, 
 and we regret to say it, having clandestinely stuffed their capacious pock- 
 ets with the best apples the cellar afforded, the class embarked aboard 
 their boats again for Geneva. 
 
 We now come to one of the most interesting episodes in the history of 
 the class. The Sophomore Prize Exhibition was nearly at hand, and 
 those who were to take part in the exercises were on-tip toe, in anticipa- 
 tion of the last grand splurge. Behold them in class meeting ; after a 
 series of proceedings, which in confusion and noise would have done 
 credit to either House of Congress, an essay is read by Mr. Cowles, ac- 
 companied by immense applause, which, after having pictured in glowing 
 colors the exploits of the Faculty under the benign influence of “ Alabas- 
 ter’s best,” suggested that a certain member of the class, whose name we 
 will hide, should furnish a “ clam supper.” The sentiments of the essay 
 were unanimously adopted, and thereby hangs a tale. Scarcely a single 
 day had passed before the young Sophomore, desirous to gratify a wish 
 so generally expressed by the class, dispatched invitations to the mem- 
 bers requesting the pleasure of their company at an entertainment got up 
 without regard to style or expense, at that popular resort, the “ Gem.” — 
 Much astonishment was manifested by the class that a young man of such 
 generous proclivities had so long belonged to the class without having liis 
 good qualities before made known. But the invitation was accepted ; 
 light suppers were eaten, to leave room for the good things anticipated • 
 and at the appointed hour the class met at No. 10, Trinity Hall, all anx- 
 ious to proceed Gem- wards. To be concise, they marched down; the 
 young gentleman, when all were seated at the table, said that he would 
 order up champagne ; he stepped out, and presently the waiter made his 
 appearance with a glass of ale and a clam, on the half shell, for each man, 
 but no champagne was seen, the young vagabond had sloped ; and thus the 
 class of ’61 was sold by one of its own members — the only instance in the 
 annals of the class where one of its members proved a traitor, and he soon 
 afterwards voluntarily left and went into the class below, the feeling in 
 the class of ’61 was so strong against him. May he be more popular 
 where he is than he was when a member of our glorious class. It was 
 during the first term of this year that the class practiced the elegant art 
 of surveying. They surveyed several tracts of land with remarkably suc- 
 cessful results, usually placing their instruments under the shade of some 
 apple tree, in order to get the bearings, and at the same time avoid the 
 optical delusions of the sun’s rays. The term closed with the annual ex- 
 
38 
 
 liibition, and a supper at the Gem. Speeches were made, the songs, which 
 our poet had written expressly for the occasion, were sung, and with 
 many farewells the class departed for home. 
 
 m 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 We shall pass by the second term, although filled with stirring events; 
 merely stating that at the beginning of this term the class bolted Calculus ; 
 and for a programme of what the class accomplished the remainder of 
 Sophomore year, vide College Register. We regret that time will not per- 
 mit us to give a detailed account of what astonishing progress the class 
 made in the French language, as well as in Mechanics, Optics and Ger- 
 man, but we must pass them all by. On the 19th of June, the class hav- 
 ing recited their last lesson in Sophomore year, resolved to try the bene- 
 fits of a sea voyage on the blue rolling waves of Seneca. Accordingly 
 they chartered the fast sailing craft “ Louise,” together with old Hawks 
 as Captain. Having provisioned her well with all the necessaries of a 
 long voyage, at 10 o’clock A. M. they weighed anchor. The propitious 
 gales wafted the “thing of life ” majestically along her liquid way, and 
 at so rapid a rate that in about three hours the village of Geneva was 
 scarcely distinguishable in the blue distance. Six miles were swiftly 
 passed, when the names of the members of the class were written on a 
 piece of paper and sealed up tight in a bottle, preparatory to being cast 
 into the sea, in order that if the boat should upset, the men drowned, and 
 the Register should be lost, the illustrious names of the class of ’61 might 
 float to some distant shore, and be rescued from oblivion by some person 
 fond of the bottle. In the course of the day they arrived at Dresden, and 
 put up at the “ Dresden Hotel but from some cause unknown were en- 
 tirely unable to get anything to eat. Their epigrastics were entirely 
 empty, and when at last they found a man with pies at fifty cents apiece, 
 in anticipation of a great treat, they ordered on the whole lot ; but on at- 
 tempting to take them out of the pans it was found impossible to do so, 
 owing to the peculiar manner of making pies at Dresden. Hungry then 
 and tired with the day’s work, they returned to the boat, satisfied that a 
 man to appreciate a sea voyage, must pay his attention to it early in life. 
 Capt. Hawks had evidently picked up the bottle thrown overboard ; for 
 he was found amidship of the jib-boom, in a position perpendicular to the 
 ecliptic, and in a complete state of insensibility. Placing him on the taff- 
 rail quarter of the poop deck, they took the vessel in charge, and spread- 
 ing the sails to the favoring breeze, were soon alongside the dock at Ge- 
 neva. Fifty-nine’s commencement followed soon, and thus ended Sopli- 
 more year. 
 
JUNIOR YEAR. 
 
 The fact that they were Juniors wrought a change in the class. The 
 spirit of the Freshman year had been that of enterprise, adventure and 
 daring; that of Sophomore was at once jolly and mirthful, but at the 
 same time dignified and becoming. The class of ’61 was ever distinguish- 
 ed for dignity and gentlemanly bearing, and when Junior year arrived 
 and with it the time to put on a certain amount of “ dig.,” the class ap- 
 peared as natural and graceful in their new garb, as though they had 
 never passed through the wild scenes of Freshman and Sophomore years. 
 It would be a pleasing task to follow them through the labors of Junior 
 year — to speak of the excellent instructions of Dr. Wilson and Prof. 
 Towler — the manner in which each distinguished himself at Junior Ex- 
 hibition, &c. &c. — but space will only permit us to add, that they con- 
 quered the difficulties of the year, and passed through the examinations 
 in a manner both creditable to their Alma Mater and themselves. 
 
 SENIOR YEAR. 
 
 The class of ’61, during the Senior year, has been grave and reserved. 
 It has maintained the proper amount of Senior dignity at all times and 
 in all places. It has been sober, manly and industrious, loyal to the 
 Faculty, and ever ready to defend the interests of its Alma Mater. The 
 people of Geneva will certify, and especially the ladies, of whom Geneva 
 can well be proud, that the members of ’61 have ever been courteous and 
 gentlemanly, throughout all their intercourse with them ; and for their 
 uniform kindness and attention to us during our stay of four years in their 
 midst, the class through this medium return to them their sincere thanks. 
 
 The exercises of Class-Day were properly the winding up of our Col- 
 lege career. Commencement will soon be here. Our College days are 
 o’er. Soon will we be scattered throughout the “ wide, wide world.” If 
 we may never be allowed to meet again on earth, may we meet in Heav- 
 en where partings are unknown. 
 
 TOASTS. 
 
 1. Class of ’61— Pre-eminent in College for its manliness, its integrity, and its self- 
 respect, may its conduct in Life’s discipline be constant in honor and uncompromi- 
 sing in truth, reflecting a proud glory upon the scene of its academic experience. 
 
 Responded to by J. D. Langworthy. 
 
40 
 
 The Day we Celebrate— The inauguration at Hobart, of a happy and time-honored 
 College custom, may it secure to succeeding classes the joyous pleasures it has con- 
 ferred upon us. 
 
 Responded to by T. J. Ennis. 
 
 3. The Orator of the Day — May his efforts to realize the sentiment of his address 
 be Napoleonic and successful. 
 
 Responded to by Napoleon Palmer. 
 
 4. The Poet Leaureate — May the Muse who this day has kindled the glowing Cowles 
 into aflame of poetic fire, enable him in future years to perpetuate tne glories of ’61 
 in living verse of equal grace. 
 
 Responded to by B. K. Cowles. 
 
 5. The Historian — May he always find for the labors of his pen as worthy a theme ; 
 and may he always treat it in a manner as worthy and unexceptionable 
 
 Responded to by Martin Cooper. 
 
 6. Our Alma Mater— 
 
 “ Alma Mater, Alma Mater, Heaven’s blessings attend thee, 
 
 While we live we will cherish, protect and defend thee.” 
 
 Responded to by C. M. Wiley. 
 
 7. The President and Faculty — Honored and respected, may they long be spared to 
 gnard our Alma Mater’s interests, and increase her spreading fame. 
 
 Responded to by R. M. Duff. 
 
 8. Our Trustees— May the names of every one of them be inseparably connected 
 with our College by some work of individual magnificent beneficence. 
 
 Responded to by J. N. Macomb. 
 
 9. Our absent Class-mates — Their absence is the sole imperfection of this day’s en- 
 joyment. 
 
 Responded to by G. G. Perrine. 
 
 10. Our Class Tree— May we be granted the privilege in after years of gathering be- 
 neath its umbrageous shades, and winding garlands around its gnarly trunk. 
 
 Responded to by W. W. Walsh. 
 
 11. Our Motto — May it be our life-long rallying cry in every duty. 
 
 Responded to by A. B. Hough. 
 
 12. The Gamma U Society — May it grow apace like a Palm, and still continue to 
 shower its rich immunities and blessings on verdant Freshmen yet unborn. 
 
 Responded to by G. L. Yost. 
 
 13. The Brides of the Class— From scolding wife, lack-a-daisical blue-stockings, 
 and empty-headed coquettes, good Lord deliver us ; but may our Brides be 
 
 “ Guardian Angels o’er our lives presiding, 
 
 Doubling our pleasures, and our cares dividing.” 
 
 Responded to by J. H. H. Millett. 
 
 14. The Professions — May they welcome us kindly, and be honored by our patronage. 
 
 Responded to by H. A. Whallon. 
 
 15. Geneva — We will always treasure in a snug nook in our memory a warm recol- 
 lection of the beauties of its scenery, and the charms of its society. 
 
 Responded to by C. J. Wright. 
 
 16. The Ladies — A health to sweet woman. 
 
 Were I the monarch of the earth, and master of the swelling sea, 
 
 I would not estimate their worth, dear woman, half the price of thee.” 
 
 Responded to by F. G. Barnard. 
 
 17. The Indian Paddle — May it safely guide down the stream of College life, the 
 conceited ’62, the indolent ’63, and the pugilistic class of ’64. 
 
 Responded to by C. T. Ogden. 
 
 18. Our Deceased Brother— 
 
 Standing- and in silence. 
 
 19. Our Departure and Separation— It takes place amid high hopes and happy feel- 
 ings, not unmixed witli thoughts af sadness. Our prayer is that it may be only pre- 
 liminary to a holy re-union in the abodes of inseparable friendship. 
 
 Responded to by T. A. Merriman. 
 
 20. Our Host — His works are his best praise. 
 
 Responded to by H. L. Suydam.