usually judge correctly, by his degree of refinement in manners and character, whether a young man had sisters. But I had a classmate who was an exception. He was remarkably refined in every respect, and I knew that his parents had only two children, both sons. She at once guessed that I meant Strong.

I know nothing but good of any of my Seminary classmates. But they were widely scattered. Several of them became ministers in other than Presbyterian Churches, Congregational or Reformed. I regret that I do not know whether any one of them is still living in this world. I have learned of the decease of most of them. I do not find the names of any of them in the minutes of our General Assembly. Not improbably I am the only survivor of them, as I am of those with whom I graduated from Hamilton College in 1840, of the Presbytery that ordained me in 1846, and of the session whose moderator I then became. One of the infants baptized by me the last time I thus officiated while pastor there, is now a member of the Board of Directors of Auburn Theological Seminary. His father became an elder of the First Church while I was its pastor. Besides the professors in the Seminary while I was a pupil, the following became such while I was pastor of the Church nearest to the Seminary, viz. : Professors Hopkins, Smith (afterwards Fewsmith) Shedd, Condit, Long, Hall, Huntington. For nearly all these I had the privilege of voting as a commissioner at their election. Several of them, with their families, called me their pastor, and all of them were generous and efficient helpers of my pastoral work and joy.

Now, "knowing that the putting off of my tabernacle cometh swiftly," I gladly make this effort to "stir up" those who will longer abide here, "by putting them in remembrance," perhaps enabling some, after my decease to call these things to remembrance." Just now several things are making the other land whereunto we hope to come seem very near-only just across a narrow river. Shall we know each other there?

My classmate Taylor once touched upon that question in a sermon which he preached in my pulpit. He gave an answer to it which seemed to me true and beautiful, thus: "Some have said that the resurrection body must be so different from this corruptible one that we cannot expect to recognize it." “For that very reason," he said, we shall recognize it all the more certainly. What is it that we now recognize most quickly and surely in a friend from whom we have long been separated? The hair that was then black is now white as snow; the lips and cheek that were then smooth and fair as a girl's are now covered with beard; and we know, as science now teaches, that not one particle of matter which then constituted his body is now within it. What is it in that face that we recognize? We say: 'It's expression.' What does that expression express? It is the invisible spirit. Some faces are more expressive than others. Can it be doubted that the spiritual body' which is to be will be a far better vehicle of expression than these in which our spirits are now clothed? When

"The night is gone;

And with the morn those angel faces smile

Which we loved long since, and lost awhile,'

it will be like the removing of a veil which has obscured our view of a loved face, enabling us to see clearly what here we were so often pained by seeing it so imperfectly and interpreting it wrong. Taylor was a small man bodily, but a great soul beamed out of his face, and was evidenced by every tone of his voice and every nimble motion of his lips and limbs. If I shall ever come where dear Taylor is, I know not what are the means and modes of expression there, but I think he will address those near him the celestial equivalent of the earthly exclamation, 'Halloo! there comes Nelson.' "Our knowledge of that life is small;

The eye of faith is dim,

But 'tis enough that Christ knows all,
And we shall be with Him."

THE CLASS OF FIFTY-SIX.

BY REV. WILLIS J. BEECHER, D. D., 1864.

The graduation of the brilliant class of '52 left a fine set of men in the Seminary. But the Faculty became depleted, many of the men left, for two years the classes dwindled, and the Seminary was closed for the year 1854-55. The following year it opened again, Professors Huntington and Hall and Condit having been added to the Faculty. These circumstances account for the fact that the class of 1856, the first class under the new regime, consisted of only four members. Of these Mr. Hamilton entered from Rochester Seminary at the middle of the year, while the other three had been students of Auburn before the closing.

John Levis Jones was born in Ireland, December 11, 1825. He died in Solomon City, Kan., the third of May, 1871, leaving a wife, one son, and four daughters. His fields of labor were in Whitney's Point and Sweden and Riga, N. Y.; Emerson, Mo.; Camp Point and Rushville and Brooklyn and Mattoon, Ill.; Salina and Solomon City, Kan. A faithful worker in hard and inconspicuous fields.

Dillis Dyer Hamilton was born in Sharon, Vt., Jan. 14, 1824, and died in Pompeii, Mich., July 22, 1876, leaving three sons and four daughters. He was a graduate of the University of Rochester. For twelve years he wrought in the churches at Akron, Cambria, Clarence and Somerset, N. Y. He was minister at Pompeii, Mich., 1868-76. Although an Auburn student for only half a year, he had a warm feeling for the Seminary, and his family shared in the feeling. He was a genial and forceful man, whose personality impressed itself on his associates.

Charles S. Marvin was born in Walton, N. Y., in 1828, and died in Marshall, Minn., December 16, 1899. Before the war of 1861-65 he served the churches in Deansville, Harpersfield, Walton, East Pharsalia, Hebron, in the State

of New York.

During the war he was engaged in the service of the Christian Commission. After the war he served a second term at Harpersfield, and then became a home missionary in the west, ministering in several churches in Iowa, Nebraska and Kansas. The last nine years of his life he was honorably retired, living in Marshall, Minnesota.

ing much of his life he was a sufferer from ill health. Handicapped as he was, however, he loved the work, and his ministry was fruitful.

William Burt Dada was born in Otisco, N. Y., October 8, 1827, and graduated from Hamilton College in 1853. He died March 16, 1905, being at the time a resident of Onondaga Valley, N. Y. He was ordained by the Presbytery of Cayuga, and was minister of the churches of Skaneateles, N. Y.; Jackson, Mich.; Minneapolis and Little Falls, Minn.; Clearwater, Minn.; Lake City, Minn.; East Palmyra, N. Y.; Stanton, Neb.; Watervliet, Mich.; Otisco, N. Y. The last five years of his life he resided at Onondaga Valley, N. Y., and was active in supply preaching and in other ministerial services. He was a man of vigor, individuality, enterprise, wit, efficiency, and the fruits he gathered were not of small account.

AN AUBURN ALUMNUS IN TRIPOLI, SYRIA.

The tour was in part the regular spring visitation of the out stations, and was in part designed as an introduction of the two new missionaries, Mr. Erdman, and myself, to our future field. Our mode of travel was by stage, carriages, train and horseback. The stage travels from Tripoli to Hums, about sixty-six miles away. It is built for six and a half people, and the builders measured the space to an inch. The process of getting in and out is a science, as each pair of knees must be carefully arranged in dove-tailed fashion, making a body remarkably unified in the mass, if somewhat divided in heart at times. To sit in this capacity of human sandwiches for eleven hours, from 4:30 A. M. to 3:30 P. M., is an experience which affords commiserating conversation to the sufferers for weeks afterward. The route goes through the country northwest of Tripoli, around the north slopes of the Lebanon, and connects us with Hums, the largest city of Northern Syria, with a population of about 65,000. At Hums we get a train for Hamath, a twin city, and full of rivalry not altogether friendly.

In that north country I find much the same atmosphere commercially as I left in the northwest, all talk is of railroads lately constructed or projected. There is serious talk of a railroad from Hums to Tripoli, to get an outlet for the great crops of wheat and barley raised on the rich plains as far north as Aleppo and beyond. I saw hundreds of sacks of grain piled up in sheds and railroad yards, exposed to all sorts of weather, spoiling hopelessly because the railroad couldn't furnish engines and cars for transporting it to Beirut. It is reported that another large crop is coming on, with no immediate hope of having it or the old crop removed to the ports. I mention this to show the rich possibilities of the country commercially, if it can ever be freed from the absolute paralysis of Turkish control.

Our first visit was to Mahardeh. There are about 2,000 people in the village and 350 of them are Protestants. At