I mo UC-NRLF SB in DS1 &3£ftiei tnatteon n&unbs ! OT Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from Microsoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/ezekielwilsonmunOOsyrarich ^UcOO^.Muic^ CM! Foaj Ezekiel Wilson Mundy J^ A Book of Loving Remembrance By His Friends Who has not learned, in honrs of faith, The truth to flesh and sense unknown : That Life is ever lord of Death, And Love can never lose its own." Syracuse Public Library 1917 yff* LIBRARY SCHOOL tdu i.-i. I THE CONTRIBUTORS The authors of this collection of tributes and reminiscences are Salem Hyde, a member of the Board of Trustees of the Library since 1905. Rev. Charles Edward Smith, D.D., of Fre- donia, a classmate of Dr. Mundy at the University of Rochester, and his successor in the pastorate of the First Baptist Church in Syracuse in 1875. Rev. William H. Casey, late of Union Springs, where he was for many years, and until his death, January 17, 191 7, rector of Grace Episcopal Church. He was a graduate of Trinity College, Cambridge. Rev. C. J. Shrimpton of Athol, Mass. He and Ezekiel Mundy were boys together in Newark, New Jersey. Rush Rhees, D.D., LL.D., President of the University of Rochester, at whose hands Dr. Mundy received the degree of Doctor of Literature in 19 10. Paul M. Paine, Librarian of the Syracuse Public Library. 3 897 CONTENTS PAGE The Contributors .... 3 The Mundy Family .... 9 Ezekiel Mundy as a Boy, by C. J. Shrimp- ton . . . . . . .11 From a Classmate, by Charles Edward Smith ...... 15 Personal Recollections, by William H. Casey . . . . 19 Dr. Mundy and his Alma Mater, by Rush Rhees ..... 30 Dr. Mundy as a Librarian, by Salem Hyde 31 The Life Immortal, by William H. Casey 41 Resolutions of the Trustees of the Syracuse Public Library . -49 Conclusion, Paul M. Paine. . . 52 Ezekiel Wilson Mundy THE MUNDY FAMILY The earliest record of the family to which Dr. Mundy belonged is that of the marriage of Thomas Mundy to Sarah Wilson on Janu- ary 3, 1770. These, Dr. Mundy believed, were his great grandparents, though the name of the wife does not correspond to the name given in Thomas Mundy 's will. The grandfather, Ezekiel Mundy, son of Thomas Mundy was born December 10, 1774 and died October 24, 1832. He married Lov- icy Mundy, the daughter of Joshua Mundy on April 16, 1796, and lived near Metuchen, N. J., on the farm later occupied by his son, Ogden Mundy. Ezekiel Mundy had seven children, the fourth of whom, Luther Bloom- field Mundy, Dr. Mundy's father, was born in 1807. On January 26, 1831, he married Frances Eliza Martin/daughter of Dr. William and Sarah Elston Martin. They lived near the Oak Tree School House, two miles north of Metuchen. Their children were Adeliza, born 1832; Edward Livingston, born 1835; 9 io THE MUNDY FAMILY Louise Matilda, born 1837; Caroline Virginia, born 1842, and Ezekiel Wilson, the second eldest, who was born June 16, 1833, m a tenant house on the farm of his grandfather Ezekiel. For much of the good influence which characterized Ezekiel W. Mundy's early days he always credited the Oak Tree School House and its teacher, Bethune Dunkin. He was a remarkable school teacher, the nephew of Sir William Dunkin, Lord Chief Justice of India. The father of Bethune was taken prisoner by the Yankees during the Revolution and was brought to Boston where he married the daughter of a first-class Boston family. Their son, Bethune, taught school near Metu- chen for fifty years. Ezekiel W. Mundy married Emily Kendall, January 15, 1873. She is the daughter of the late Horace and Emily King Kendall. EZEKIEL MUNDY AS A BOY REV. C. J. SHRIMPTON My friendship with Mr. Mundy dates from the time we were boys seventeen or eighteen years of age. We were first brought together as members of the same church in Newark, N. J. Mundy was in the habit of writing a list of the boys who entered the church, and hand- ing a copy to the last recruit, with his name at the bottom of the list. This was done without his being requested to do it, but sim- ply in obedience to the principle of order which governed his whole life. I remember distinctly that when he handed me the list with my name appended, there were between twenty and thirty names enrolled. There were duties that fell to each one of us in the conduct of the church's work, and by consulting the lists Mundy had given us, we knew when each one's turn came to serve. The pastor of the church of which we ii 12 EZEKIEL MUNDY AS A BOY were members was one of the most remark- able men I have ever known. He had a most uncommon ability in securing the attention and confidence of young people. As Mundy once said of him, "He knew how a boy felt." This explains the gathering around him of such a large circle of young people, for there were as many girls as there were boys. The intimacy thus formed between Mr. Mundy and me has not only lasted through this long period but has steadily grown in depth and affection. With more or less regularity we have visited each other and maintained a constant correspondence. When we reached manhood we both determined to enter the Christian ministry. He went to Rochester and took a full college course in the University in that city. I have heard it said repeatedly that he was one of the best scholars ever graduated from Rochester University. His acquaintance with literature was un- commonly wide and accurate, and though he made not the least boast or even allusion to his attainments, no one could be in his com- pany for any length of time without learning how well-stored his mind was. EZEKIEL MUNDY AS A BOY 13 It was inevitable that abilities of so high an order should be suitably recognized and the degree of Doctor of Literature was conferred upon him, both by Alma Mater and also by Syracuse University. More than once he visited Europe, and few men could derive the profit that he did from the spectacle of the older civilizations. And this brings me to think of his longest task in life. If he had had his eye upon the position of librarian, he could not have guided his course with clearer purpose to that important task. He was gifted with a remarkably even tem- per. In all the long period of our close inti- macy I never saw him irritated. With a quiet and firm mind he held to his own views with- out arousing opposition, and thus he was ready to come into contact with all sorts and conditions of people as the head of an impor- tant public institution. From the very outset of his connection with the Library, when it was in the High School building, his culture and his judgment made themselves felt. All the people of Syracuse know with what a firm and competent and gracious hand he guided the growth and progress and efficiency of the Public Library. 14 EZEKIEL MUNDY AS A BOY But my mind does not rest upon the great public utility of Dr. Mundy's life so much as because he was my dearest and most faithful and intimate friend. The world is poorer since he left. I miss his calm, clear mind, his steady, quiet judg- ment upon all the many occasions upon which I was wont to consult him. FROM A CLASSMATE REV. CHARLES EDWARD SMITH My acquaintance with Dr. Mundy began in September, 1856, when we both entered college as freshmen in the University of Rochester. Looking my class over for an agreeable room-mate I decided that Ezekiel Wilson Mundy was the most attractive man. He accepted my proposal and we lived to- gether for two years, when an advantageous offer to enable me to earn my expenses took me to another home. Still we were together parts of almost every day; we belonged to the same Greek letter fraternity, and we con- tinued in the most intimate relations till the end of our theological course five years later. When we graduated and he began his life- work in Syracuse as pastor of the First Bap- tist church, I settled elsewhere, but was frequently in Syracuse, and in 1875 succeeded him as pastor of the same church, and for 15 16 FROM A CLASSMATE ten years more we were residents of the same city, and in frequent and happy association with each other. Then our ways parted again, but not to prevent occasional meetings, sometimes extended to weeks, and a life- long correspondence, the last letter from him reaching me not a great while before his death. No two brothers could have been more fondly attached to each other, nor could have endeavored to keep in touch with each other more solicitously than we have done. It will be seen that I have had every needed opportunity to know, understand, and appre- ciate Dr. Mundy, and it is a pleasure for so old a friend to pay tribute to his worth. We have loved each other in spite of great differences of temperament, mental bias, and belief. As students we were almost never both on the same side of any question; of course I disapproved his change of sentiment when he organized his Independent Church, and it was at almost our last interview that he said, with tears in his eyes, that he did not want to hurt my feelings by expressing his disagreement with me on some religious questions. He was radical and I was conser- vative; novelties and difficulties interested him, while I clung to settled opinions and old FROM A CLASSMATE 17 truths; but great as were our differences and tendencies we loved and appreciated each other highly. The reason, at least on my side, is not far to seek. I had the highest respect for his intellectual ability, as indeed all who have known him well must have had. As a stu- dent he commanded the respect of his fellow- students at every recitation, and the faculty regarded him as one of the most brilliant men of his class. No professor ever said an uncomplimentary word to him but once, and then Mundy left the room, and the pro- fessor made the amende honorable by apologiz- ing. His culture, acquaintance with books, and literary ability are attested by his long and great success as a librarian. But the great charm of his character and that which has given him his greatest influence over others, was his delightful social qualities. He was the most lovable of men. In college there was no man who drew friends to himself and was always met with pleasure and hailed as a good fellow like ' ' Zeke Mundy. ' ' I doubt if there is one whose hold upon college friend- ships has been so strong as his. I was with him once when he was building the edifice for the Independent Church, and a lady 18 FROM A CLASSMATE said to me, "We are building a new church to worship Mr. Mundy in. " I did not take her words literally, but they did truly express the large part which his social attractiveness had in that enterprise. For a number of years we have always gone to college commencements together, as neither of us wanted to face the crowd of strangers alone. I was with him when he received his degree of Doctor of Literature at Rochester, and as he stood among the Dons with his cap and gown, I thought that none of them deserved the distinction more than he. It was an honor which Syracuse had paid him some time before, but which scholars had awarded him much earlier. We who knew him well will always think of him as "a gentleman and a scholar," but the best thing still in our hearts to recall is that "to know him was to love him." PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS OF AN OLD FRIEND REV. WILLIAM H. CASEY Everyone who knew Ezekiel Mundy for as many years as I have done and with anything like the same intimacy, must feel with me that something has gone out of our lives which cannot fail to make them henceforth sensibly and visibly poorer than they were: and probably all of us have asked ourselves what is the reason of this unmistakable im- poverishment. A partial explanation of it may be found in our profound belief that through and through Ezekiel Mundy was a gentle- man; not such a gentleman as is described by Aristotle, but such an one as is partially portrayed in the 15th Psalm which, in order to make my meaning clear, I here cite with- out any abbreviation or apology : Lord, who shall sojourn in thy holy tab- ernacle? Who shall dwell in thy holy hill? He that walketh uprightly, and worketh 19 20 PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS righteously. And' speaketh truth in his heart. He that slandereth not with his tongue. Nor doeth evil to his friend. Nor taketh up a reproach against his neighbour. In whose eyes a reprobate is despised; But he honoureth them that fear the Lord. He that sweareth to his own hurt, and changeth not. He that putteth not out his money to usury. Nor taketh reward against the innocent. He that doeth these things shall never be moved. But even this definition, good as it is, is in- complete and needs, when we are thinking of Ezekiel Mundy, to be supplemented by the following citation from St. Paul's letter to his friends in Corinth. A gentleman, we are there given to understand, is a man who " suffereth long and is kind; who envieth not; who doth not vaunt himself, and is not puffed up; who doth not behave himself unseemly, who seeketh not his own, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things; believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things." Such an one I verily believe Ezekiel Mundy to have been; and I venture to think that among those who knew him well there cannot be one man, no, nor one woman either, who will not say, "Here, indeed, is PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS 21 a veritable picture of the friend whom I have loved and lost awhile." But in all this I am wandering far beyond the definition of his position as a churchman. That I shall be able to do this to the satis- faction of those whose relations with him were almost wholly ecclesiastical I have not the slightest expectation, if for no other reason, than for this one ; because it is impossible to paint a man who resolutely refuses to sit for his picture. It is scarcely necessary to say that he was a man of more than commonly deep religious principle, or that his religion was of that simple practical kind which St. James describes in the first chapter of his Epistle, — a religion as little differentiated by the mysticism which has often been attri- buted to him as the Ten Commandments or the Sermon on the Mount. With regard to churchmanship, he used to say that he was "a very weak brother," which in my judgment he certainly was not ; and in order to give to this point-blank denial weight which it could not otherwise possess, I may perhaps be permitted to say what would other- wise be a gross impertinence, namely, that I am to the Great Manor born and was taught what the term "churchmanship " really means 22 PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS by my old tutors, Harold Brown, Joseph Barbour Lightfoot, and Samuel Wilberforce. No, — he was "a weak brother" only in his own eyes and in those of his clerical brethren who until the day before yesterday were clergymen in some one or other of the Pro- testant churches, and had not yet learned to see the church of their adoption in dry light and true perspective. It is true that he some- times described himself as a Low Church- man, but to that statement also, even though it came from himself, I must demur, unless it be so illegitimately stretched as to include Stanley, Maurice, and Jowett, in which case some other term should be employed. Towards the cult of advanced Ritualism, his attitude was one of amiable stand-aloof- ness not unmixed with wonderment. To him, as to Pusey, religion was far too personal a thing to need any of the adjuncts of external beauty. His life was simplicity itself, and his personal habits of such a nature that he need- ed no change in externals to symbolize the change which he would like to have seen in the dogmatic teaching of the Church. His warfare was not of this world; if he could get men to take his view of the Church, he was content; and he left it to others to fight PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS 23 for the symbolic recognition of their views, well knowing that the symbols themselves were worthless so long as the beliefs were wanting. In order to make any mis-trans- lation of these words impossible, I deem it nothing less than fair to state that within my knowledge and rather less than two years ago in the course of a letter addressed to a young priest of much more definitely marked churchmanship than his own, he said, "There are so many of your sort who work hard and say nothing about it, and there are so many of my sort who talk a great deal and do not work at all, that I have somewhat changed my notions on these matters": meaning thereby, as he afterwards told me, that for their work's sake he would, as far as possible, close his eyes to practices which he did not approve. The only party in the Church — if "party" be not far too large a term by which to de- scribe less than one per cent, of the clergy — whom he thoroughly disliked is made up of those whose pliant theology and conjectured science are in a state of unceasing flux, who believe it to be a sign of liberality at five or ten minutes' notice to refit their "views" to the latest scientific guess and to bow with 24 PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS equal deference to the Lord and to the devil. Dabblers and babblers, chatterers and smat- terers in a theology of which they know very little and a philosophy of which they know nothing, he did occasionally treat according to their deserts, and when he did it was Vcb metis. He liked men to be one thing or the other, whether they agreed with him or not, but those who were neither "hot nor cold" he was quite apt — to cite the vigorous lan- guage of St. John the Aged — "to spue out of his mouth." Very significant and interesting also was the attitude of his mind towards the diffi- culties of belief of the present day, and particularly towards the "free-handling" of Holy Scripture, often attempted with a view to meet them. His mind was too open and too candid either to ignore difficul- ties, or to tie itself rigidly down to the narrow conceptions of inspiration and interpretation, in which he had been brought up. From his youth upwards he had taken a wide interest in literature and science, and during the later years of his life he had given himself very largely to purely metaphysical reading and still more largely to metaphysical think- ing. Accordingly, both as an inquirer and a PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS 25 teacher, whose guidance was sought by minds as inquiring as his own, these questions were prominently before him. His view of such difficulties was eminently, in the rightful sense of the word, a view of faith, deeply conscious of the reality of the truths to which God had led him in the Word, refusing to give them up, because they could not as yet explain all other truths really or appar- ently discovered by science, but certain that all truths must harmonize, and hoping that, in degree at least, that harmony would manifest itself even here to those who would at once search for it and wait for it. Thus, speaking on the conclusions suggest- ed by geological science as to the origin and date of man's appearance in the world, and their apparent inconsistency with Scripture, he has again and again spoken to me very much as follows : — "Ly ell's speculations do not seem to me to touch the origin of man or the date of his first appearance on the earth; but what of that? One way or the other? I have very little sensitiveness on such subjects; and of a disturbing kind none at all. On the con- trary, every year as it passes leaves me 26 PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS more and more sure that there cannot be any real discrepancy between the intimations of inspiration and the established facts of science, for the one is just as truly the voice of God as the other." I remember very clearly that at one of our old time clerical meetings and for just such an utterance as this he was denounced by a young clergyman whose orders were at that time less than a year old as "the lineal descendant of Bunyan's 'Mr. Facing Both- ways. ' To this ill-begotten and ill-born sneer, and with flashing eyes Bishop Hunt- ington made answer, "Young man! you are bearing false witness against your neighbor. My dear friend Dr. Mundy — and I speak whereof I know — is as little influenced by the strife of tongues as were Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego of Nebuchadnez- zar's burning fiery furnace. " It will throw a kindly side-light on my dear friend's char- acter if I record that after this flaying process had, in his judgment, lasted long enough, he was heard to say sotto voce, "Have you forgotten, Bishop, that the gentleman who is sitting next to you is an officer of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals?" PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS 2-j Of his work as a parish priest I know but little, and experimentally nothing at all. But I do know at first hand what many of his people thought and said about him. All of them loved him. All of them reverenced him. All of them spoke of him as a shepherd who cared for the sheep, not merely as a flock, but one by one. One of them — a shrewd old Yorkshireman but little differenti- ated by his residence in this country — said of him " 'e wor most as good as t'auld vicar of Leeds." (The great Dr. Hook.) And as I happen to know, that is a good deal for a Yorkshireman to say, whether he be recon- structed or not. And a young Canadian, once a member of his congregation and after- wards for many years the honored warden of the church with which I have been so long associated has often told me in detail of many men, and women too, whom "Good Old Mundy," as he used to call him, had rescued from the land of the harlot and the swine. What his friends and contemporaries — I am now thinking of that sadly dwindling band of men who have been affectionately described as the "Grand Old Men of Syra- cuse" — thought of him they will probably say 28 PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS for themselves, but here is what one of them, no longer with us, but the peer of the best of them, has actually said about him in a letter addressed to myself, " There is something in that man, Mundy, — call it by whatever name you please — which compels reverence and love. I doubt if any better name can be found for it than 'The grace of Our Lord Jesus Christ. ' But describe it how you will, it is an animating influence for good — an influence against which men can't harden themselves, because they are not conscious of it. It comes on them like the early dews of morning, or the fragrance of incense com- ing they know not whence, and steals on their receptive faculties before they have time or notice to resent its interference." To the people of Syracuse it is hardly necessary to say that this letter came from the pen of Bishop Huntington. Of the more tender graces of this good man's character, this is not the place to speak. Such details belong to his family, and not to the world. But surely there can be no im- propriety in recording the fact — the beauti- fully pregnant fact — that they who have never seen him in his own home have never seen him at his best. PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS 29 Of his moral worth it must suffice to say that I always trusted him and never found him wanting. "A strong soul! By what shore Tarriest thou now? For that force, Surely, has not been left vain! Somewhere, surely, afar, In the sounding labour-house vast Of being, is practised that strength, Zealous, beneficent, firm." DR. MUNDY AND HIS ALMA MATER DR. RUSH RHEES Doctor Ezekiel Wilson Mundy, who was graduated from the University of Rochester in i860, and received its honorary degree, Doctor of Literature, in 1910, was one of the gentlest spirits I have ever known. His gentleness was of the spirit, for it was coupled with positiveness of conviction and courage- ous loyalty to that conviction. He was therefore a man of quiet but subtly powerful influence, and of tenaciously loyal friendship. The former all felt who knew him. The latter became a blessing to all who shared its privi- leges. Repeatedly since his graduation from college his Alma Mater had evidence of that loyalty. Repeatedly successive academic gen- erations of students, who had the opportunity to know him, experienced the influence of his strong character. He was one whom his Alma Mater de- lighted to honor, and whose death leaves her poorer in all but memories. 30 DR. MUNDY AS LIBRARIAN SALEM HYDE It is with much pleasure that I respond to the request to contribute something to the printed memorial being prepared to com- memorate the life and work of our loved Mr. Mundy, as Citizen and Librarian. I only wish that what I can say might be more worthy of the subject and the setting than anything I can hope to prepare. For nearly if not quite half a century it has been my privilege to know Mr. Mundy and for the greater part of that time to count him as one of my personal friends. This was indeed a rare privilege, for he was a rare man, an exceed- ingly modest man yet with a vast amount of reserve power ready for all emergencies. There was a quietness, a gentleness — what Matthew Arnold called "a sweet reason- ableness" — about him that drew all acquaint- ances in loving friendliness toward him and made him indeed the " friend and helper 31 32 DR. MUNDY AS LIBRARIAN of those who would live in the Spirit." He loved his friends and it was impossible not to love him. One of the old philosophers, I think it was Seneca, gave this advice, "Let us choose some good man and keep him always before our eyes that we may live as if he watched us and do everything as if he saw." To anyone desiring to live the good life he could not have made a better choice for such assistance than Mr. Mundy. Early in his married life and in mine we became neighbors and friends. He was then the minister of the Independent Church which later became the Lutheran — located on South Salina Street. I was not a member of his church but occasionally went to hear his sermons. I loved his quiet manner, his graceful elocution, his thoughtful and scholarly discourse, and profited greatly by them. Mr. Mundy' s sermons, as I remember them, were never dogmatic or doctrinal, none of the theological frightfulness so commonly preached in those days, nothing of the sen- sational. There were Art and Poetry and Science, a simple philosophy of good living, a feeling after the truth if haply it might be found. There was clearness of vision, logical sureness in his reasoning, firmness in con- DR. MUNDY AS LIBRARIAN 33 viction, the real, true culture that lives by appreciations of what is best, by sym- pathies and admirations, not by dislikes and disdains, ever preserving the higher, healthier tone and living on the higher levels of power — a gospel of love, truth, beauty, God. Love and service were the keynotes. You could not help feeling that his own religion was expressed more by his life than by his words; he was both the idealist and the practical man. As has been said of another good man of his type, "he kept about him the atmosphere of the hills," and in Mr. Mundy's case he was always ready to come down into the lowliest surroundings if there- by he could serve his fellowmen. Later in life he came to love the beautiful forms of religion and ritual as used in the Episcopal Church to which he attached him- self and in which he found comfort and peace. To that Church he consecrated many years of his active life, rendering highly appreciated service and gathering to himself friends to whom he was ever loyal and whose loyalty to him were the highly prized treasures of his later and declining years. Intellectually Mr. Mundy was character- ized by breadth of vision and toleration of 34 DR. MUNDY AS LIBRARIAN thought. What a man thought out for him- self straightly and honestly was to him deserving of the highest respect. While him- self loving the beautiful forms of the Church — its articles of faith, its rites, its organi- zation — the main thing was to fill them with the right spirit. To him Christ was in every life which served man in the Spirit of love and self-sacrifice — no matter what the philo- sophy, no matter what the creed or church affiliation, "A man's a man for a' that" — goodness is goodness, purity is purity, love is love wherever manifested. Now it usually happens that a man devoted to these lofty ideals, devoted to literature, a student of philosophy, a dreamer of beauti- ful dreams, religious in the deepest sense, falls far short of accomplishment when under- taking to assume in any large way the re- sponsibility of handling important business affairs. Mr. Mundy became the head of our Syracuse Public Library when it was a very small affair housed in a small back room in our old City Hall — that picturesque little building with a grove of stately trees in front which should have been left as one of the too few monuments remaining to speak of the early civic life of our City. DR. MUNDY AS LIBRARIAN 35 From that small beginning with a collec- tion of a few seedy volumes and a circulation of most limited range he, with patient fidelity to his task, organized and built up the vast collection of worthy books now housed in our noble Public Library and distributing its nearly half million volumes annually. This was the successful construction of a large business enterprise organized into many departments with competent heads and many subordinates. It involved the selection and purchase of many thousands of books annu- ally, a close censorship lest unworthy or un- clean literature found its way to the shelves, a careful and tactful discipline to be maintained over the staff of workers, a con- stant watchfulness over the physical property' — care, repairs, additions, furnishing, adjust- ment of wages and what not. Now, I think the patrons of the library and my associates on the Board will bear me out in the assertion that in none of these particulars did Mr. Mundy fail — while over it all, through it all, and in it all there was the never-failing suggestion in manner, in speech, and gesture of the quiet gentle scholar, the superb, Christian gentleman. I never saw an angry or contemptuous look on his face. 36 DR. MUNDY AS LIBRARIAN Occasionally when some unusual provocation stirred others to wrath and testy expression, a puzzled look would come over his face as much as to say, "My dear, good man how could you do or say such a thing?" And yet there was such a strong, stern fiber of determined will running through his char- acter that when he knew he was right, and he generally was right, enabled him in the gentlest and most winning way to bring about the results he aimed at. And so this gentle, strong fibered soul worked on, and our great library is the pro- duct of his brain and heart. His spirit breathes through every door and window of the mass- ive building, speaks from every bookshelf, from the deportment of every member of the Staff and every employee. All will tell you that they loved him and that they couldn't help it. Our city reaped the harvest of this man's work. The salary was meager, the material benefits to himself slight. Had these generous gifts of this "patient continu- ance in well-doing" been directed toward business or professional enterprise the re- wards could not have been other than great. He has told me of opportunities that had been almost forced upon him whereby he could DR. MUNDY AS LIBRARIAN 37 have shared in rich material rewards and scarcely could have failed to build up a substantial fortune; "I did not feel I had a right to do it, " he said, " It seemed to me that my work lay in other directions — and yet, and yet" he said "I have my doubts now — on my family's account." Thus inspirit he was another Louis Agassiz — he did not "have time to make money" yet he was a living, breathing, vital man in every sense of the word — in no sense a colorless character. Tennyson said of the Prince Consort that "he wore the white flower of a blameless life " ; so did our gentle hero friend who was himself worthy of any Tennysonian panegyric that could be written. Mr. Mundy had great aversion to all personal publicity although the minutest revelation of the details of his life could have no other effect than to raise him still higher in the estimation of the public. At the same time he was possessed of a force of character and a frankness of speech which, as has been said of a great poet he admired, "saved him from the curse of being taken for that most disagreeable of beings, a so-called saint." Mr. Mundy' s love for the highest literature, his bent towards con- 38 DR. MUNDY AS LIBRARIAN templation and reflection, his proficiency in learning, his firm grasp on the profoundest philosophies, his peculiar faculty or gift of getting hold of the precious kernel of a truth or system and imparting such knowl- edge in clear, simple language to others — through writing or in conversation, was one of his most marked mental characteristics and made him the chosen companion of many wise and learned men. He was at home with the great literatures of the world and was able at sight to dis- tinguish what was really worthy from the ephemeral trash, the silly nonsense and taint- ed morality, now characterizing so much of our popular fiction and popular periodical literature, if literature it may be called — and to keep them out of the library. Mr. Mundy loved books and loved to talk about books and to lend such as especially appealed to him, to his friends. One of the special delights of my associa- tion with him was now and then to look up from my desk, see him come into my office with a book under his arm which had pleased him and which pleasure he wished me to share by leaving the book with me. DR. MUNDY AS LIBRARIAN 39 Everything really artistic and beautiful appealed to him — poetry, music, pictures, art in pottery especially, and in his younger days he was a diligent and discriminating collector of choice specimens from all the great manufacturers. My earliest visits to his home were made interesting by his enthusiasm over this collection and the evi- dent pleasure he had in showing and de- scribing them to his friends — a taste to which doubtless may be traced the strik- ingly beautiful cameo and figure modeling and coloring brought to such perfection, and to such world-wide recognition, in the charmingly artistic work of his daughter, Miss Mundy. I must bring this to a close although I do not seem to have said one half that I would like to say or that it is in my heart to say. I may perhaps add that during the more than half century during which I have made my home in Syracuse there have been many able men, strong men, men of fine character and commanding influence among her citizens, yet in my estimation there has perhaps been no man who has stolen so quietly and sweetly and with recognized benefit into the affections of so many of our citizens 40 DR. MUNDY AS LIBRARIAN and stayed there permanently as has Mr. Mundy. To have been numbered amongst his per- sonal friends, I esteem as one of the greatest privileges of my life. THE LIFE IMMORTAL (ADDRESS BY REV. WILLIAM H. CASEY AT THE FUNERAL OF DR. MUNDY) You and I, dear friends and fellow-mourn- ers, are once more face-to-face with the great enigma. Are we in the presence of a finished drama? If we are, then is there no escape from the horrible alternative, — the Supreme Power in the Universe is not good, and no longer deserves our worship. Nay then — to put it nakedly — deserves from us nothing but pity or execration — pity, if this is the best world He could make, — execration if it is not ; He is unjust if He will not, and impotent if He cannot satisfy the righteous longings which He himself has implanted in all His children. Do I understand the tremendous signifi- cance of these words? Yes,— I do. But what would you say of a father who instilled into his child's heart desires which he knew could not be realized, — who trained him to expect 41 42 THE LIFE IMMORTAL something which he did not mean to give him? Who gave him such false impressions of his future prospects and position that when he awoke from his delusions he would be driven to despair? And how is it possible for you to think that an infinite and omni- potent Creator is under less obligation than a weak and finite man? Do you not believe, — do you not know that the higher you rise in the scale of being the greater grows the sphere of obligation? Has He who made us, or has He not, by a very fact of creation laid Him- self under an obligation to deal kindly and justly with the beings He has made? Does not the fact of creation carry with it an infinite burden of responsibility? Have we not a right to expect from Him something better than dust and ashes, and the total loss of love and personality? or, at the very least, the chance, if we choose to avail our- selves of it, of something better? And is it giving us something better when we have such a passionate longing for immortality, if not for ourselves, at any rate for others, to answer it with annihilation? Here is a ques- tion which those who deny, or even doubt the continuity and never-ending development of our personal life, must answer somehow. THE LIFE IMMORTAL 43 This is an inquiry which cuts too deep to be relegated to the region of notes and queries. And I commend it to your most serious thinking. Yes, I know it is sometimes said that to an infinite intellect everything would appear quite different from what we, in our finitude, can imagine. But there are many things which a finite mind can know with infinite certainty. It does not need infinite wisdom to know that two parallel straight lines cannot enclose a space, — nor does it require infinite wisdom to know that the glory of the Creator is inevitably bound up with the glory of His creatures. If they are failures, He has failed. If this world is a system complete in itself, — if this life is not to be followed by another, — if hopes are born only to be blighted, yearnings roused only to be crushed, beings created only to be destroyed; if our most passionate desires are doomed to everlasting disappointment, if, after think- ing ourselves endowed with the power of an endless life we are to die out like the flame of a candle, then, so long as any remem- brance of us lingers in the universe, we shall be nothing but a reproach to our Maker, and a witness to the fact that whatever else He 44 THE LIFE IMMORTAL may be He is no God. What would prove impotence in a creature cannot prove power in a Creator; what would bring contempt upon the finite cannot bring honor to the Infinite ; what in us would be unutterable dis- grace cannot in Him be glory. If there be no immortality, no development for us, limited only by that which must forever make it impossible for the finite to become infinite, what is this but to say that the crowning achievement of the Deity is to have created an infinite number of abortions! To what does all this point? To this — and nothing less than this, that the alternatives before us are immortality or atheism, by which I mean to-day an utter denial of the goodness of God. Surely we shall place this foremost among the lessons of to-day that the life of Ezekiel Mundy, cut short at a moment when — save for certain physical infirmities, it seemed to be ever growing nearer to its greatest useful- ness, must still be growing and expanding, still learning and still loving, though no longer within our ken. Must there not be somewhere out of sight a more than compen- sating existence, a home of many mansions in which the faculties which were so ham- THE LIFE IMMORTAL 45 pered here shall find full scope and a never- ending progress to perfection? Do we not all possess within us powers and capacities immeasurably beyond the necessities of any merely transitory life? And was not this more true of him than it is of most of us? And do not these stir within us yearnings irrepressible, longings unutterable, and a curiosity unsatisfied and insatiable by aught we see? Are these appetites, and passions, and affections, as some would have us believe, nothing but the delusive inheritance from our savage forefathers? Not so. They are the indication of something within us akin to something im- measurably beyond us, — tokens of things attainable, yet not hitherto attained, — signs of a potential fellowship with spirits nobler and more glorious than our own, — they are the title-deeds of our presumptive heirship to some brighter world than this. The greater the spirit, the tenderer the conscience, the more loving the life, the stronger is the argument from its very discomfiture and defeat here for its immor- tality in a state of which sight and sense give no evidence, but which shall forever grow in knowledge, and forever grow in love, 46 THE LIFE IMMORTAL where Anna shall meet her husband, David his friend, and Rachel her children, and being nearer there to the source of love shall love them more than they ever did. If God be God who shall doubt, save perhaps in some morbid moment, that what has been well-begun here will not be for- ever interrupted, — that somewhere there is a state where what has been ill-done here can be atoned, — that affection once kindled never need cease, — that sin committed can be wiped out, — that the good conceived can be achieved, — that the good seed sown in life shall some day bloom and fructify in a more congenial day, — that all that is within us which is good and happy yet vainly struggling here shall be free to act hereafter, — that families kept asunder by a crowd of circum- stances forever pushing them apart, and for- ever leaving them with empty arms, will somewhere come together! Is such a belief the mere baseless amusement of a man who likes to make creeds of his aspirations? Is this a mere phantasmagoria of love? a fata morgana and nothing more? No — a thou- sand times, No. If God be good it is a logi- cal necessity. Surely no waste could be more wanton, and THE LIFE IMMORTAL 47 therefore under a God of wisdom and judg- ment more inconceivable than that would be if the good that is in us should forever perish. Can anyone capable of thinking seriously believe in such a hideous climax of immorality as that? Then have we before us, as the ultimate result, human life at its best without an adequate motive, affections without an object to satisfy them, hopes of immortality never to be realized, aspira- tions after God and godliness never to be attained, and, as the outcome of it all the undisputed kingdom of confusion and de- spair! This thing cannot be, as the Lord liveth, it cannot be. If morality have any serious basis, if its Teachings be not the idle and delusive dreams of minds which cannot think and hearts which cannot feel, it must be that "Our Redeemer liveth" and careth for all His children. What does all this mean? This, and nothing less, that our dear brother is not dead, it is only his poor tired body that sleepeth, and that in God's good time, The veil shall be rent — The veil upon nature's face, And the dead whom ye loved, ye shall walk with, 48 THE LIFE IMMORTAL And speak with the lost. The delusion of death shall pass. And for this blessed hope, Hallelujah! to God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost! Amen ! and Amen ! A TRIBUTE TO EZEKIEL W. MUNDY Syracuse, June 8, 191 6 The Trustees of the Syracuse Public Li- brary desire to express our love and reverence for the memory of Ezekiel W. Mundy, Librarian Emeritus, whose death has taken place to-day. From 1881 until a year ago he was in charge of the Public Library of this city. He brought to this task a cultured mind, a never-failing and industrious loyalty to his work, a generous wisdom in the adminis- tration of his duties. The collection of books now belonging to the city for the free use of all its people is a monument to his many-sided intellect and to his broad sym- pathies. The example which he set as a public servant is an inspiration to us who have shared his responsibilities and the thought of having served with him will remain to us a remembrance of an unusual privilege and honor. While we mourn with the members of Dr. 4 49 50 A TRIBUTE Mundy's family the loss of this noble and unselfish friend we share with them the satis- faction of having enjoyed a close relation- ship with a public man whose work for this community, reaching over more than a third of a century, has so warmed and stimu- lated the cause of popular education, has so raised the standard of public service, and has so constantly and impartially radiated the influence of generous helpfulness that he made of his official position a title of demo- cratic nobility. Dr. Mundy was a rare man. His life was an open book, known and read of all men, and every page of it was clean. Ambitions for fame and wealth never laid hold on him. He was too gentle and sincere to follow the paths trodden by self-seeking men. He lived in an atmosphere of thought, of sentiment, and of the kindly virtues. It is pleasant to re- member that so many of his y ears were spent in an environment so well suited to his inclina- tion and ability. For years he was the head of the Syracuse Public Library. To him, more than any other, is due the development and growth of this great public institution. It was his constant thought and care. He put his personality into it. It was his off- A TRIBUTE 51 spring. To the citizens of Syracuse of middle life the Library suggested Dr. Mundy, as thought of him also brings the Library to mind. To the Trustees, association with him was a constant delight. His quiet and kindly spirit smoothed away all troubles and vexa- tions. He was loved by all who knew him. Rare tact, a very noble philosophy, and a fine appreciation of all human things enabled him to live above the rough and tumble of life, and ripen with the years into a humble, trustful child of God. Douglas E. Petit F. W. Betts Paul M. Paine For the Trustees. IN CONCLUSION The character and ideals of such a man as has been described in the foregoing pages are unique and for most of us inimitable. One to whom has fallen the duty of carrying on for a while the work to which he gave most of his life can best show loyalty to the tradition which Dr. Mundy's life established in the Library by striving to supplement and con- tinue what he did rather than to imitate what he was. It is as a public servant that Dr. Mundy was known to the present generation of Syracusans. The quality of his devotion to the public service was more than merely conscientious. It was a passion with him to be useful even in the humblest way in bring- ing the light and warmth of good reading to the homes of the people of the city. That tradition remains a priceless heritage to the institution he so deeply loved. Syracuse, April, 1917. 52