"Hoping, dear sir, that this hasty and imperfect sketch may be of some trifling service in commemorating a good man, who deserves something much better,

"I am very truly your obedient friend and servant,

"S. G. Brown."

FROM THE REV. JOHN NELSON, D.D.

"Leicester, July 23, 1856.

"My dear sir: My personal acquaintance with the Rev. Mr. Peabody was limited to the period during which he was the pastor of the Central Church, in Worcester. While he held that office, I had, I may say, an intimate,—certainly a most happy, acquaintance with him. I often saw him in his own house, and often received him as a welcome guest in mine. I often met him in the association to which we both belonged and in ecclesiastical councils.

"I remember him as having a rather tall and commanding figure, and a benign countenance, beaming with intelligence, especially when engaged in conversation. This appearance, however, was modified by constant ill health. No one could be with him without receiving the impression that he was a scholar, as well as a deep and accurate thinker.

"The few sermons which I heard him read, or deliver from the pulpit, were of a high order, distinguished for both accuracy of style and power of thought. They were clear, methodical, and highly eloquent. It was my own impression, and I know it was the impression of some of his most distinguished hearers, that he was among the best preachers of his time. In ecclesiastical councils he was shrewd, discerning, and wise. As a friend, he was always reliable. His moral character was not only high, but well balanced, and marred by no inconsistencies.

"It is presumed that no one will dissent from the statement that, during the few years he was in Worcester, by his intelligence, his manly virtues, his kindness of heart, his active labors for the advancement of Christ's kingdom, and his ability as well as faithfulness as a preacher, he greatly commended himself, not only to the people of his immediate charge, but to the whole community in which he labored.

"Affectionately yours, "John Nelson."

We are indebted to "Sprague's Annals of the American Pulpit" for yet another notice—furnished by the kindness of Rev. Daniel Lancaster—of a gentleman widely known to the friends of education and religion.

"William Cogswell, the son of Dr. William and Judith (Badger) Cogswell, was born in Atkinson, N. H., June 5, 1787. He was a descendant from John Cogswell, of Westbury, Wiltshire, England, who, with his family, sailed from Bristol in a vessel called the 'Angel Gabriel,' June 4, 1635, and was wrecked at Pemaquid (now Bristol), Maine. He settled at Chebacco, now Essex, then a part of Ipswich, Mass., where he died November 29, 1669, about fifty-eight years old. His father was distinguished as a physician and a magistrate, and held the office of hospital surgeon in the army during the war that gave us our Independence. His mother was a daughter of the Hon. Joseph Badger, of Gilmanton, a gentleman of great respectability and for a long time in public life.

"Under the influence of good parental instruction, his mind was early formed to a deep sense of the importance of religion; but it was not till he was fitting for college at Atkinson, that he received those particular religious impressions which he considered as marking the commencement of his Christian life. He did not make a public profession of religion until the close of his Junior year, September, 1810; at that time he, with both his parents, and all his brothers and sisters, nine in number, received baptism, and were admitted to the church on the same day, in his native place, by the Rev. Stephen Peabody.

"He became a member of Dartmouth College in 1807. Having maintained a highly respectable standing in a class that has since numbered an unusual proportion of distinguished men, he graduated in 1811. For two years after leaving college, he was occupied in teaching in the Atkinson and Hampton Academies. But, during this time, having resolved to enter the ministry, he commenced the study of Theology under the direction of the Rev. Mr. Webster of Hampton, and subsequently continued it under Dr. Dana of Newburyport, and Dr. Worcester of Salem,—chiefly the latter. Having received license to preach from the Piscataqua Association, September 29, 1813, he performed a tour of missionary service in New Hampshire, and at the close of December, 1813, returned to Massachusetts, and accepted an invitation to preach as a candidate for settlement, in the south parish in Dedham. After laboring there a few weeks, he received a unanimous call, which, in due time, he accepted, and on the 20th of April, 1815, he was duly set apart to the pastoral office. Here he continued laboriously and usefully employed about fourteen years, during which time the church under his care was doubled in numbers, and enjoyed a high degree of spiritual prosperity.

"In June, 1829, he was appointed general agent of the American Education Society, and he accordingly resigned his pastoral charge with a view to an acceptance of the place. He entered upon the duties of his new office in August following, and so acceptable were his services, and so well adapted was he found to be to such a field of labor, that in January, 1832, he was elected secretary and director of the Society. His duties now became exceedingly arduous, and his situation one of vast responsibility. In addition to all the other labors incident to his situation, he had an important agency in conducting the 'Quarterly Journal and Register of the American Education Society,'—a work that required great research, and that has preserved much for the benefit of posterity which would otherwise have been irrecoverably lost.

"In 1833, he was honored with the degree of Doctor of Divinity, by Williams College.

"It became manifest, after a few years, that Dr. Cogswell's physical constitution was gradually yielding to the immense pressure to which it was subjected. He accordingly signified to the Board of Directors of the Education Society his intention to resign his office as secretary, as soon as a successor could be found. He was induced, however, by their urgent solicitation, to withhold his resignation for a short time; though in April, 1841, his purpose was carried out, and his resignation accepted. The Board with which he had been connected, rendered, on his taking leave of them, the most honorable testimony to the ability and fidelity with which he had discharged the duties of his office.

"On the same month that he determined on resigning his place in the Education Society, he was appointed by the Trustees of Dartmouth College, professor of History and National Education. Here again his labors were very oppressive, as he was obliged not only to prepare a course of lectures on a subject comparatively new, but to perform much other service, especially in the way of collecting funds to endow his professorship. He was chiefly instrumental, at this time, in establishing the Northern Academy of Arts and Sciences, and of gathering for it a library of about two thousand volumes.

"But while he was thus actively and usefully engaged, he was invited to the presidency of the Theological Seminary at Gilmanton, in connection also with the professorship of Theology, and a general agency in collecting funds. There were many circumstances that led him to think favorably of the proposal, and finally to accept it. He accordingly removed his family to Gilmanton, in January, 1844.

"His expectations in this last field of labor seem scarcely to have been realized. The removal of one of the professors to another institution, devolved upon him an amount of labor which he had not anticipated, and he found it impossible to attend to the business of instruction, and at the same time to be abroad among the churches soliciting pecuniary aid. At length, finding that the public mind was greatly divided as to the expediency of making any further efforts to sustain the institution, he recommended that its operations should, for the time being, be suspended; though he considered it as only a suspension, and confidently believed that it had yet an important work to perform. He held himself ready after this to give private instruction in Theology, whenever it was desired.

"In 1848, Dr. Cogswell suffered a severe domestic affliction in the death of his only son,—a young man of rare promise, at the age of twenty. This seemed to give a shock to his constitution from which he never afterwards fully recovered. He acted as a stated supply to the First Church in Gilmanton until the early part of January, 1850, when he was suddenly overtaken with a disease of the heart that eventually terminated his life. He preached on the succeeding Sabbath (January 13), but it was for the last time. He performed some literary labor after this, and read the concluding proof sheet of a work that he was carrying through the press for the New Hampshire Historical Society. When he found that death was approaching, though at first he seemed to wish to live, that he might carry out some of his plans of usefulness, not yet accomplished, he soon became perfectly reconciled to the prospect of his departure. He died in serene triumph,—connecting all his hopes of salvation with the truths he had preached,—April 18, 1850. His funeral sermon was preached by the Rev. Daniel Lancaster of Gilmanton, and was published.

"Dr. Cogswell was a member of the Massachusetts Historical Society, of the American Antiquarian Society, and of the New England Historic and Genealogical Society. He was also an Honorary Member of the Historical Societies of New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Georgia, and a Corresponding Member of the National Institution for the Promotion of Science at Washington.

"The following is a list of Dr. Cogswell's publications 'A Sermon on the Nature and Extent of the Atonement,' 1816. 'A Sermon containing the History of the South Parish, Dedham,' 1816. 'A Sermon on the Suppression of Intemperance,' 1818. 'A Catechism on the Doctrines and Duties of Religion,' 1818. 'A Sermon on the Nature and Evidences of the Inspiration of the Sacred Scriptures,' 1819. 'A Sermon before the Auxiliary Education Society of Norfolk County,' 1826. 'Assistant to Family Religion,' 1826. 'A Sermon on Religious Liberty,' 1828. 'A Valedictory Discourse to the South Parish, Dedham,' 1829. 'Theological Class Book,' 1831. 'Harbinger of the Millennium,' 1833. 'Letters to Young Men Preparing for the Ministry,' 1837. In addition to the above, Dr. Cogswell wrote the 'Reports of the American Education Society' for eight years—from 1833 to 1840; and two 'Reports of the Northern Academy.' He was the principal editor of the 'American Quarterly Register' for several years; was editor also of the 'New Hampshire Repository,' published at Gilmanton, N. H.; of the first volume of the 'New England, Historical and Genealogical Register;' of a paper in Georgetown, Mass., called the 'Massachusetts Observer,' for a short time; and of the sixth volume of the 'New Hampshire Historical Collections.'

"Dr. Cogswell was married on the 11th of November, 1818, to Joanna, daughter of the Rev. Jonathan Strong, D.D., of Randolph, Mass. They had three children,—one son and two daughters.

FROM THE REV. SAMUEL G. BROWN, D.D.,

PROFESSOR IN DARTMOUTH COLLEGE.

"Hanover, April 10, 1856.

"My Dear Sir: I had the pleasure of considerable acquaintance with the Rev. Dr. Cogswell, though only during the later years of his life. He was not then accustomed to preach, except occasionally to supply a vacant pulpit, or as a part of his duty as secretary of the Education Society, or in connection with his professorship in Dartmouth College, or the Theological Seminary at Gilmanton. He had formed his style on the model of the older preachers and theologians, and if he had something of their formality, he had much of their Scriptural simplicity of statement and devoutness of feeling. His sermons, so far as I remember them, though showing a careful adherence to the doctrinal opinions of the fathers of New England, were not of a polemic character, but were marked by good sense, earnestness, a Biblical mode of address, and warm Christian sympathies.

"From natural kindness of heart, he avoided unnecessary controversy, and was especially solicitous to harmonize and unite by charity, rather than by acuteness to discriminate differences among brethren, or to separate them by severity of judgment. Not ambitious, he was yet gratified by the approbation and good opinion of others, and loved a position where he might be prominent in labors of charity. Neglect or contumely wounded but did not embitter him. No feeling of ill-nature was suffered to disturb his peace or check his liberality.

"Among the prominent traits of his character was a sincere and unwearied benevolence. He was interested in young men, and his labors as secretary of the American Education Society were stimulated even more by love of the work than by a sense of official responsibility. He was thoroughly devoted to the objects which interested him, and though one might differ from him in judgment with respect to measures, none doubted his sincerity or refused him the praise of unsparing fidelity.

"His tastes led him to antiquarian pursuits, and he was prominent in founding and conducting several learned societies which have done much to rescue valuable knowledge from oblivion, and thus to secure the materials for future history.

"He bore adversity with meekness and patience. What might have crushed a harder spirit, but gave his greater symmetry. The latter years of his life, though darkened with many disappointments, were illustrated by the exhibition of admirable and noble traits of character, such as few, except his most intimate friends, supposed him so fully to possess. The death of an only and very promising son while in college, and the failure of some favorite plans, seemed only to develop a touching and beautiful Christian resignation and a high magnanimity. Not a murmur was heard from his lips under his irreparable loss, nor an unkind or reproachful word at the disappointment of his expectations; nor did an unsubmissive or harsh thought seem to find a place in his heart. Those especially who witnessed his last sickness were deeply impressed with the Christian virtues and graces which found a free expression in the hour of trial.

"Dr. Cogswell was portly in appearance, grave and dignified in his bearing, and eminently courteous in manner. He will be remembered with kindness by all who knew him, and by many with a feeling of strong gratitude and affection.

"With great regard, your obliged friend and servant,

"S. G. Brown."



CHAPTER XXVI.

PROF. JOHN NEWTON PUTNAM.—PROF. JOHN S. WOODMAN. PROF. CLEMENT LONG.—OTHER TEACHERS.

The following notice of the eminent scholar who succeeded Professor Crosby in the chair of Greek, is from a Commemorative "Discourse" by Professor Brown.

John Newton Putnam was the son of Simeon and Abigail Brigham (Fay) Putnam, and was born December 26, 1822, in what was then the north parish of the beautiful town of Andover, Massachusetts. His father, a graduate of Harvard in the Class of 1811, was for many years teacher of a classical school of high character in North Andover, in which the son received his elementary training and discipline. His mother was a lady of exquisite refinement and beauty of character, of great gentleness and tender grace. Soon after the death of his father, in 1833, he entered Phillips Academy in Andover, then under the charge of that excellent scholar, Mr. Osgood Johnson, where he successfully completed the usual course of study preparatory to entering college.

Being still quite young, and already showing uncommon aptitude for study, he went with his instructor and friend, Rev. Thatcher Thayer, to the town of Dennis, upon Cape Cod, where he spent four years in quiet and delightful application.

Dr. Thayer says of his classical studies:

"He recited each day, in review, the whole of the past lesson from memory, without book, first the Latin or Greek and then the English. At each lesson questions were asked which, if he could not answer, he was required to answer at the next recitation, from various helps furnished him. This often led to long and varied investigations. He wrote as much as he read,—perhaps more.

"If those studying with him might smile a little at his want of athletic zeal and vigor, there was no room for smiling when it came to Greek, or indeed any mental exercise. Besides, his wit, though gentle, could gleam, and then they all respected him for his character, and loved him for his winning spirit."

In the autumn of 1840, he entered the Sophomore class of this college, ready to make full use of the ample opportunities granted him. With what modesty and beauty he bore himself here, with what fidelity in every relation, with what admirable scholarship, with what generous aims, with what simplicity and purity of motive, with what love of learning, and desire not merely of meeting the claims of the recitation-room, but of perfecting himself in every branch of liberal culture, how constantly this noble desire possessed him from his first day among us down to the closing hour when he discoursed so fitly and with such maturity on "Poetry—an instinctive philosophy," those know best who were most familiar with his college life. One testimony to this is so full and generous, and of such weighty authority, that I cannot forbear to give it. It is from the accomplished scholar who filled the chair of Greek for many years before Professor Putnam.[46]

[46] Professor Alpheus Crosby.

"I could not hope," he says, "to express, by any words at my command, the peculiar charm which Professor Putnam's scholarship and character had for me. I never heard him recite without being impressed with the wonderful perfection of his scholarship. His translation was so faultlessly accurate, and yet in such exquisite taste, his analysis and parsing were so philosophical and minutely exact, and his information upon illustrative points of history, biography, antiquities, and literature, was so full and ready, that I listened with admiration, and to become myself a learner. How often I had the feeling that we ought to change places I and when I had decided to resign my situation in the college, my mind immediately turned to him as a successor, assured that the college would be most fortunate if it could secure his services." It need not be said how fully Professor Putnam reciprocated this esteem, nor what value he attached to the exact and thorough discipline of his instructor.

Nor was it in the department of languages alone that he was distinguished, but almost equally in every other, as much in those studies which demand the independent and original action of the mind as those which mainly require close attention, and the faculty of acquisition. His modesty was then, as always, so marked, and his ideal of excellence so high, that it required some sense of duty to bring his powers to a public test. He never thrust himself into a place of responsibility, or sought distinction for distinction's sake.

He had in college the desire and purpose which he always retained,—to complete himself in every art and every manly exercise. Hence his study of music, not only as a recreation, but as a discipline; not merely to gratify the ear, though exquisitely fond of the art, and receiving from it a refined and exalted pleasure, but also that he might become acquainted with the thoughts and conceptions of men great in musical genius. The Handel Society, which, from the constant changes of its members, must necessarily fluctuate,—the annual losses not always being met by corresponding gains,—was then in a high state of efficiency. For the sake of study and musical acquisition, it boldly grappled with the difficult works of eminent masters, and with whatever necessary imperfectness of actual performance, it was with sure and lasting results of musical ability and taste and knowledge. It was in this society, I suppose, that Professor Putnam first became practically acquainted with some of the great works of Handel and Haydn, Beethoven and Mozart, and with the lighter but yet substantial excellencies of some of the English masters. Here he cultivated and disciplined his nice ear to the instinctive perception of the hidden harmonies of poetry, to the feeling of those finer beauties which hardly admit of expression in anything so clumsy as our actual speech.

The desire for physical accomplishment led him to join a military company then existing in college, although he had no love for such things, but rather a native repugnance to them, and there was then no special demand for the discipline.

The six years following his graduation were divided between instruction in Leicester, Massachusetts, and Newport, Rhode Island, and pursuing his professional studies in the Theological Seminary at Andover. During this time he reviewed and consolidated his knowledge. He brought himself into nearer contact with practical and common life. He enlarged his sphere of observation and the circle of his studies, and was looking forward with great satisfaction to the actual performance of the duties of his profession, when he was invited to the chair of Greek in this college. It was a position entirely suited to his tastes, his capacities, his studies. He brought to it not only ample learning and tastes delicate and cultivated, but the enlarged and generous spirit of a true scholar, and the aptness of an accomplished instructor. His ideal of attainment and of duty was very high, and he aimed at once to fit himself, by the most generous courses of study, to illustrate the more perfectly to his classes the poetry, the eloquence, the philosophy, of the wisest and most refined people of the whole ancient world.

It was with no narrow or exclusive spirit, nor with a merely technical purpose, that Professor Putnam pursued his studies, or directed those of others. Every true book was a nucleus around which all thought and knowledge of similar kind were grouped,—a central point from which his mind radiated in all directions within the sphere of the subject. Could he read Plato and Aristotle without studying the course of ancient philosophy and its influence on the modern? or Demosthenes, without an investigation of the virtues and failings of Athenian statesmen? or Thucydides, without meditation on the causes of the desolation of empires and states? or Homer and Sophocles, without a quick comparison with Dante and Milton and Shakespeare? It was indeed a characteristic of Professor Putnam, and one cause why his knowledge was becoming, had indeed become, at once so ample and so serviceable, that it was not an accumulation of facts disconnected or bound together by mere accidental associations, but an organic growth, every fibre of the most distant branch tracing itself back to the one trunk, and the sap from the living root feeding and nourishing the whole.

In his special profession, Professor Putnam would be allowed to hold rank among the very best. The most kind and winning of teachers, he was the most exacting and stimulating. By questions sharp, pertinent, and various, thoroughly testing the knowledge of the student, he at once made him feel his deficiencies, and inspired him to supply them. Even the dull and careless felt the singular fascination of his look and tone, caught something of the life of his spirit, and were gradually lifted above themselves. Gentle, affable, ready to communicate, dignified, thorough, patient, and learned, never harsh, never repulsive, he was earnest to meet every want of the student. His whole course was marked by unwearied fidelity.

To instruct was an occupation and a duty, to which he made everything else yield. He was thoroughly desirous to help those who came under his care, so revealing to them their own deficiencies, and so placing before them the methods and results of a better scholarship, as to incite them to new exertions, and aid them to independent and vigorous activity. No one, unless very groveling and earthy, could be long under his training, without insensibly catching something of the finer spirit of a beautiful discipline. His own philosophic thought imparted its movement to their minds, and many are they who have gone from these halls, within the last fourteen years, who can trace back to him some of their best methods of study.

Language was, in his view, no dead product, but the finer breath and effluence of the national life, as subtle, as many sided in its aspects, as the national spirit itself,—into the knowledge of which one must grow by slow degrees, bending his pliant mind till it gradually yields to the new channels of thought and expression.

"An unfaithful scholar," says one of his pupils, "was gently yet unmistakably reminded of his delinquency, perhaps by assistance being omitted upon a point which he might easily have ascertained for himself. One whom he saw struggling to learn he invariably helped, and this help was given so kindly that many a one would try to make a good recitation if only to gratify one so much beloved. The best scholars were quickened by his most delicately expressed appreciation of their victories, and even sluggish souls felt an unwonted light and warmth stirring in them when they came into his presence. I remember well our last recitation in Greek. It was from Plato. He started with an idea of the noble philosopher, Christianized it, and gave it to us in a few simple, sublime words, with an attitude and look that melted the hearts of all.

"It has sometimes occurred to me that he could not seem constantly to others as he did to me, like one who had dropped from a higher sphere, to remain a little while in order to draw the hearts that should love him to a purer, higher, and better life. But conversation with others has shown me that it has long been a general impression that he moved in a realm above the common level of even the best men."

There was still another aspect in which Professor Putnam presented himself, which should not be passed over without at least an allusion. Having completed his professional studies, his own tastes and higher aims, no less than the wishes of his friends, induced him occasionally to exercise the functions of the Christian ministry. Hence he sought and received ordination according to the usages of the Congregational churches, and in that relation stood in his lot. With what earnestness and pureness of motive, with what loftiness of purpose and fidelity in his high calling, and acceptance to those who heard him, I need not try to express. But I may say that it was not for want of solicitation that he did not exchange his professorship for places of considerable public importance in the other calling. It was his duty, a belief of his fitness for his post, that kept him from some inviting fields of labor elsewhere.

Having referred in fitting terms to his call to the Andover Theological Seminary, to the closing scenes in his life, and to his death at sea, Professor Brown says in conclusion:

"Few lives were more perfect than his, whose youth gave so fair a promise, whose riper years so fully redeemed the pledge. His presence shall still go with us all, to excite us to new fidelity, to enkindle within us nobler affections, to inspire us with holier purposes."

His classmate Rev. Dr. Furber says:

"The ripe and rare scholarship of my beloved classmate and friend, John Newton Putnam, was the fruit of diligence and the love of study in one whose acquisitions were easily and rapidly made. Mr. Putnam never seemed to be a hard worker, but knowledge was continually flowing to him as by a process of absorption from his early childhood until he became the accomplished and brilliant scholar that he was as professor of Greek. His books were his constant companions, their society was his pleasure and pastime, he preferred it, even in his boyhood, to the sports and recreations for which most boys neglect their studies. When in college he sat up at night after other students were in bed to pursue the study of German and other modern languages not then required by the college course. This he did from the pure love of these studies, without the aid of a teacher, and without the social stimulus of any companionship in such pursuits. And he probably for the sake of study neglected needful bodily exercise every year of his life.

"In the study of languages he found a fascination. The marvelous Greek tongue was of course the richest field for him, the language of a people of the finest and subtlest intellect, and of the highest culture in the art of speech. He seemed at home in that wonderful language as much almost as if it had been his mother tongue. The elegance and vivacity, the felicity and energy of his translations from Thucydides or Plato showed that he not only comprehended his author and saw the subject as he saw it, but that he had fairly caught the glow of the author's mind from the page which he had written.

"So accomplished a student of language could not have been ignorant of his rank among his fellow students; but in all my intimacy with him, boarding at the same table, occupying for a few months the same room, and spending with him more or less time every day either in social intercourse or in the enjoyment of vocal or instrumental music, I never knew him to betray, by word or act or look, a consciousness of his superiority to the poorest scholar in the class.

"Oblivious as he was, apparently, of the deficiencies of others, he was quick enough to perceive their merits. A fine recitation or an eminently creditable performance of any college exercise, no matter by whom, gave him positive enjoyment, which in his nervous and emphatic way he was very apt to express. It is really not too much to say that he appeared to enjoy the successes of others as much as though they had been his own.

"What a help to any college class is the influence of one such man! His connection with the class of 1843, was, no doubt, the presentation to some of its members of an ideal such as they had not formed before; an ideal, not only of enthusiasm for the largest acquisitions and the finest culture, but of that enthusiasm sustained by the love of excellence for its own sake, and not alloyed by any merely selfish ambition to surpass others.

"A spirit of scholarship so high, so broad, so generous as this could be no mark for envy. None of us grudged our classmate his position or his honors. He was the beloved associate, and is now the warmly remembered friend of some of us, and no doubt many of us were more indebted to his example than we were aware of at the time for anything that was well and worthily done by us in our college days.

"I ought not to close this notice without speaking of Mr. Putnam's love of music. Music was born in him as much as Greek was, and he learned one as rapidly as he did the other. When in college he was a valuable member of the Handel Society, his influence being always in favor of the introduction for practice of the standard and classic authors. Haydn's 'Creation' and other works of that great composer were an unfailing source of delight to him. Their naturalness and spontaneity, their brightness and cheerfulness, their artistic finish and exquisite grace, met precisely the corresponding qualities in his own mind. As we often choose those authors who are most unlike ourselves, so he knew how to enjoy the rugged grandeur of less polished writers. He could listen to a mountain chain of choruses in 'Israel in Egypt,' or to a dark and mazy labyrinth of mingled harmony and discord in Beethoven, and wherever he saw the perfection of art or the power of genius, his soul was like a harp of a thousand strings every one of which was alive with vibration. I well remember with what elevation of feeling and intensity of utterance he used in the Handel Society to sing 'The Hallelujah Chorus,' and the concluding chorus of the Messiah, 'Worthy is the Lamb that was slain.' His deeply religious sympathies were touched by the sentiment of these great choruses, and on this account his enjoyment of them was more profound than his enjoyment even of the finished models of Haydn. He knew and felt that he was on a grander theme, and that Redemption was greater than Creation. And it is pleasant to think of him now as saying with a deeper meaning and a more rapturous devotion than he knew on earth, and may we add, a more thrilling musical delight, 'Worthy is the Lamb.'"

We append some of the closing lines of the venerable Dr. Thayer's most touching and eloquent tribute to the character of his beloved and honored pupil: "He did in quality, more than in quantity, beyond any I ever had to do with. He was under more stimulus than mere quiet pleasure in study. He had a most delicate sense of beauty to be gratified, a fine power of discrimination which sought objects for its exercise. Then his love for his mother was a very powerful motive; then too I think he thought of gratifying and honoring his teacher, who loved him and tried to make him a scholar. But better, he loved his Saviour and increasingly studied with humble loyalty to him. Still we must not put Putnam in a wrong place. He was pre-eminently made for a classical scholar."

Rev. Dr. Leeds adds:

"I became acquainted with Professor Putnam in the winter of 1860-61, and was on intimate terms with him up to the time of his death, more than two years later....

"Of his scholarship, others can speak more fitly than I. All remarked that he was pervaded by that which is beautiful in the wonderful language and literature he taught, as ever a vase by the perfume of its flowers.

"But it is his character on which I love to dwell. Ever after I had become well acquainted with him, he was a delightful illustration to me of the power of love to foster diverse and even opposite elements of character. He had feminine traits, and yet he was thoroughly manly; the gentleness and tenderness of a true woman were his, and so were the dignity and courage of a true man. He could speak, and was wont to speak, and preferred to speak words of kindness the most winning; but he could administer a rebuke longer to be remembered than most men's; though more, perhaps, because it came from him than for any other reason. The union in him of fastidious taste and of uncritical temper was very marked. No man was more sensitive than he to all the proprieties of the occasion; and one might at first fear lest himself should say or do what would jar upon that delicately attuned spirit, for whatever he said or did was perfect in its manner. And yet no one—no one—would listen with more simple enjoyment to the plainest, crudest utterances of others. He had not one word of criticism to offer. He seemed to see—I am confident he did see—only what was good and attractive in them. But one thing could offend him, that which indicated a want of sympathy.

"More than any man I ever knew, he saw the good in every person, and the bright in everything. It was wonderful, it was delightful, it rebuked one, and it quickened one, to note the manifestations of this temper. Nothing, seemingly, could occur that did not present some occasion for gratitude. After the fearful disaster which hurried his life to its close, his message home was—how characteristic of him all who knew him will at once recognize,—'Tell them to thank God for our deliverance!'

"I must not say much more. His friends need no reminders of his innocent, sunny playfulness, or his abounding, sparkling—but never trenchant—wit. As one of them has said of another, 'What bright, graceful conceits often fell from his lips, his soft, dark eye smiling at his own unexpected thought!' And yet, such was his gracious nature that he was the delight of the house of prayer as much as of the friendly circle, the one who would be chosen alike to share our hours of gayety, and to extend to us the sacramental cup. In fine, his qualities were refined, blended, and crowned by love—love which often suggested to others the name of St. John.

"No notice of him would be adequate that did not at least refer to his wife,—fitting companion to such a man. A daughter of Prof. William and Mrs. Sarah Chamberlain, she inherited both the attractive and the sterling traits of her parents. 'Lovely and pleasant in their lives, in their death they were not divided.'"

Esthetic and solid culture have very rarely had a more nearly perfect union in any American scholar than in Professor Putnam. Whether in the privacy of his home, in the recitation room, or before a large audience, his words were always chosen with a marked regard for fitness and beauty. His knowledge of the minutest points of every theme which he discussed was so exhaustive and complete that any attempt to improve would have been almost like carrying light to the sun.

The graces of his heart corresponded with those of his person and mind. His earnest piety was marked and felt by all who came within the sphere of his influence. Few Christian teachers have passed away, at the age of forty, more highly esteemed than Professor Putnam. He died on the return voyage from Europe, near Halifax, October 22, 1863.

* * * * *

In 1851, the chair of Mathematics was rendered vacant by the death of Professor Chase, and he was succeeded by John Smith Woodman, a member of the Rockingham County Bar. He was the son of Nathan and Abigail H. (Chesley) Woodman, and was born at Durham, N. H., September 6, 1819.

Extended experience as a teacher in the South, and foreign travel, had given valuable expansion to Professor Woodman's naturally capacious mind. He was a careful, patient, laborious teacher of the Mathematics. He did not exact excellence from every student, for he fully realized that a lack of native fondness for the studies of this department rendered it impossible for some to appear in the recitation-room, with as full preparation as others. But he strove to have each do the best in his power, and his kindness induced many to put forth earnest effort, who would have been less inclined to do so under a different teacher.

One well qualified to appreciate him says:

"As an instructor in Mathematics, a field proverbially difficult, Professor Woodman had but few equals. Such was his superiority when a student in this department, that there was little difficulty in choosing a successor to the post made vacant by the sudden and untimely death of Professor Chase. The action of the Trustees was most completely justified by the ease and thoroughness with which Professor Woodman took up and carried forward the work of his honored and lamented predecessor.

"In the class-room, however subtle or complicated the subject, or however dull the student lucklessly 'called up,' his demeanor was always evenly calm, without a shade of impatience; he carried a firm, steady hand, master alike of himself and the subject in hand.

"Under his direction the field of Mathematics was not left to mere theoretical cultivation. At an early date, the first class under his care was marshaled in squads under self-chosen captains who were first trained by the professor in practical handling of compass, theodolite, and sextant; and then each led his division to out-door work, taking the various instruments in turn. He was also able to invest even Analytical Geometry and Integral Calculus with charms for some of the class. One student came from a private interview in a high state of enthusiasm over the eloquent suggestiveness of formulae in the vocabulary of Calculus.

"Written examinations, now so common, were among the methods introduced into his department by Professor Woodman, and that class still remembers the spectacles quietly adjusted, that his near-sightedness might not encourage an illicit use of + and -, and the rigid silence which shut them up to the simple problems written upon the blackboard, notwithstanding adroit questions, ostensibly innocent and necessary.

"In the Chandler Scientific School, to which Professor Woodman was afterwards assigned, he was specially qualified to do good work, because of his thorough mastery of Mathematics by perceptions almost intuitive. Thoroughly at home in its principles, loving them, and honestly loving his pupils, he could luminously and patiently teach the application of those principles in practice, however minute and detailed.

"Mention of Professor Woodman as an instructor would be incomplete, were there no allusion to the force and influence of his character as a man, transparently honest, and grandly true. He taught well from text-books, but his life, so unaffectedly simple and just, gave better, deeper, and more lasting instruction."

An associate in the Faculty says:

"Professor Woodman becoming somewhat weary of the continuous and laborious drill of young men in a department not generally appreciated, and feeling a renewed desire to return to the practice of law, resigned his professorship, and removed to Boston for that purpose. After a year's experience of the practice, or desire of practice, of law, the professor was ready to return to his field of labor in the college. His former department was no longer open, the place having been filled, on his resignation, by the appointment of Professor Patterson. He was, therefore, appointed Professor of Civil Engineering in the Chandler Scientific School. On entering upon his duties, he was made the chief executive officer, under the president, of the department, and continued to hold that relation to the school till his death. Professor Woodman proved himself a thorough, able, and zealous teacher in his new chair, and by degrees became deeply interested in the Scientific Department, and devoted his time and energies to building it up and making it a success. He early became sensible of the importance of the free-hand drawing, and gave it a prominent place in the curriculum of the School, which it has continued to hold. The depth of Professor Woodman's love for the School, and the strength of his desire for its continued prosperity, were made manifest in his will by a generous donation to its funds. Those who graduated from the Chandler Department while it was under the administration of Professor Woodman, will never cease to love and revere his memory."

A classmate, distinguished for his interest in general education, says:

"Professor Woodman was county commissioner of schools, and secretary of the New Hampshire Board of Education, during the year 1850. He was again county commissioner during the years 1852 and 1853. In 1854 he was commissioner and chairman of the board which was composed of the commissioners of the several counties. In the opinion of the most competent judges, Professor Woodman was one of the wisest and most efficient state school officers New Hampshire has ever had. He was admirably qualified for the work of an educator, not only by the cast of his methodical, organizing mind, but by his varied experience and scholastic attainments. He was eminently practical in all his plans for the improvement of the schools, and he knew well how to adapt means to ends. His reports, both as commissioner and secretary, were of a high order of excellence, and they were highly beneficial in promoting the cause of education in the State."

Professor Woodman married Mary Ann, daughter of Stephen Perkins Chesley, of Durham, and adopted daughter of Edward Pendexter. He died at Durham, N. H., May 9, 1871.

* * * * *

In 1853, Professor Clement Long, who was the son of Samuel and Mary (Clement) Long, and was born at Hopkinton, N. H., December, 31, 1806, was called to the chair of Intellectual Philosophy which had been vacated by the resignation of Professor Haddock. He was a thorough teacher. Being himself a most profound thinker, he deemed it his duty to exact a thorough knowledge of every day's lesson by the student. If he had not made himself master of the subject, by learning all that was to be learned from the text-book, any attempt to supply the deficiency, by drawing upon his own resources, would be sure to be followed by the plainest marks of dissatisfaction or merited rebuke on the part of Professor Long. Never indulging in the diffuse or the discursive himself, he never tolerated such a course on the part of the student. A mere glance at the man was sufficient to indicate the richest and most solid type of mind. Those who sat under his instruction, and were capable of appreciating it, will ever remember his efforts in their behalf with the liveliest gratitude.

In a commemorative "Discourse," President Lord says: "He was graduated at this college in 1828, a classmate and intimate friend of the late and lamented Professor Young, and a worthy associate of the many honorable men by whom the class of that year has been distinguished.

"It was here, in a time of unusual religious awakening among the students, that he became a Christian, and, with several of his classmates, made profession of his faith,—a profession ever afterwards honored by a singular devotedness to his Saviour. That he was a regenerate man, and true to his Christian calling, no one who knew him ever doubted. It was manifested by the perhaps best of all evidences, as construed by experienced observers,—the uniform prevalence of an unworldly and super-worldly spirit. He affected nothing, he pretended nothing; but whatever he said or did significant of religious character was traceable, and traceable only, to a believing and loving mind. If any thought him severely religious, that may have been the fault of his critics rather than his own.

"After leaving college, he was for three years a preceptor, principally at Randolph, Vt.; then, for two years, a theological student at Andover. Before completing his term at that institution, he was called, in 1833, to the professorship of Intellectual Philosophy in Western Reserve College, at Hudson, Ohio. After a short term of service he was elected to the professorship of Theology, in the same institution, and received ordination as a minister of the gospel. These changes are all significant of early and distinguished worth.

"In 1851 he received and accepted the appointment of professor of Theology in the Seminary at Auburn, N. Y."

His classmate Professor Folsom says:

"Professor Long was like a precious stone kept long in the lapidary's hands before its brilliancy met the public gaze. I had my home under his father's roof, and sat daily at table with him, during my Junior year. We were colleagues afterwards, together with our classmate Jarvis Gregg, in the Western Reserve College; and they both were members of my family there. We had been Handelians at Dartmouth (as also Peabody), and almost every evening we sang together, at our fireside, from Zeuner's "Harp." How precious the memory of those hours! How often has the uplifting power of all our intercourse been felt! Professor Long, like Professor Young, joined the love of Mathematics with that of Metaphysics, but the bent of his genius was strongly in the direction of the latter, and not least in theological and moral science. He had the enthusiastic regard both of the Faculty and students of the Western Reserve College. He was also a very suggestive and quickening preacher, often at my request taking my place in the pulpit of the chapel. His great modesty, and not easily satisfied ideal, kept him from publishing much in his lifetime; but I have wondered that some of his writings did not find their way into print after his death. He once told me, when urging him to this step, that he hoped, in the course of ten years or so, to be able to prepare something which the ear of the public might not be careless to hear. He had the same clear-cut features that marked Professor Peabody, though of a different pattern,—the latter with outward, the former with inward, gaze."

"In 1853," President Lord continues, "he was transferred to the position which he held in this college till his death, leaving the honorable office which he had so lately assumed, at Auburn, partly out of his great love for his Alma Mater, and partly, to minister to his revered parents in their advanced years.

"In all these relations the qualities which I have suggested laid the foundation of his acknowledged excellence. In all the departments which he successively occupied he was regarded, as among the most learned, able, and effective teachers and preachers of the country. He was competent to every service required of him, and gave to every position dignity and honor. He was distinctively Christian in them all, and made them subservient to no school or party, but to the gospel through which he had been saved.

"Wherein Professor Long was like other men, he was above the generality, and, though he aspired not to lead, was fitted to precede them. Wherein he was unlike them, the difference was more conspicuous. His peculiarities were striking, and in them we perceive his most observable traits, whether of the intellect or the heart.

"I know not whether it were most of nature, or habit, that our friend was so distinguished for acuteness, directness, and singleness of the mind,—a mind not especially intuitive and rapid, not noticeably free in its conceptions, wide in its survey, or comprehensive in its generalizations, moving rather on an extended line than an enlarged area, but subtle and clear as light; sharp, piercing and discriminating as electricity; pointed, direct, and exact as the magnet; conclusive, positive, and decisive as the bolt of heaven. His processes were simple, natural, easy, and continuous, not stiffly regulated by scholastic laws, but strictly conformable, and his results inevitable. Give him his definitions and his postulates which, though not given, he would, like other resolved reasoners after his method, sometimes take, at his own risk, and he would go round or through the circle, or make his traverses in darkness and storm, and never lose his meridian, or be confused in his reckoning; and he would come back precisely to his starting-point laden with success, his points all proved. It was well said of him by a curious and critical observer of scholars, that, as a logician, he was not exceeded in the country.

"Our professor had made large attainments in the science to which he was especially devoted,—the Metaphysics. He read whatever was worth the reading, of which, however, he chose to be an independent judge, but he thought more, so that his attainments were emphatically his own. He was not like what so many now become in this department of study,—a mere follower, imitator, panegyrist,—but a searching critic and judicious commentator. He had a higher range of speculative inquiry than most of the more ambitious men who have exceeded him in popular effect, and he corrected his inquiries by a better logic, and a more simple faith. But I have sometimes thought him too much of a recluse for his greatest profiting in this respect. He loved best the retirement of his own study, and was rarely seen outside of it, except when required by his official duties. He abjured the artificial forms and fashions of social life, the bustling confusions of trade and commerce, and the whirl and finesse of political agitations. He never would stand on a platform, nor be seen at an anniversary, nor harangue a popular assembly. He was happiest in solitude where, undisturbed, he could solve the abstruse problems of ethics, or be a delighted critic of metaphysical theories, or seek to penetrate the mysteries of theology. He was consequently in danger of contemplating his subjects, like so many others of his time, both in Church and State, too much in their refined essence, and too little in their comprehensive practical relations; rather as things, in his judgment, ought to be, than as they are; too much in the light of a fictitious principle, and too little in that of experience, history, and analogy; rather according to God's original constitution than the actual necessities of a fallen state; too much as they may be in the ultimate development of God's moral providence, and too little as they are in its administrative course. Hence, but for the greatest care which, in the main, he exercised, he would have been likely to crowd into his definitions and postulates more than they naturally admitted, or to make them less than they naturally required; to mistake, for the basis of his fulcrum, a speculative subtlety instead of a practical reality; and, consequently, to make his inexorable logic draw too much, or to little, for legitimate practical effect. If, occasionally tempted by the excitement of our present types of speculative and conjectural science, he seemed to overstep the limits which God has prescribed to us in our present probationary state, and to make the human a measure of the Divine, it was done not presumptuously, from a spirit of conceited and ambitious intermeddling with things forbidden, but unconsciously, from an honest desire for knowledge. When he perceived, as he was not slow to perceive, that many of the objects which now so much allure the learned men of the world, who are falsely so called, were not real, but ideal and conceptional only, not actual knowledge verifiable by a day-light test, but shadows and chimeras chasing one another over the moonlit sky, then he retreated. He chose to stop, reverentially, as taught by Scripture, when he must, rather than to be driven back by the cherubim and the flaming sword. Not even Kant, or Coleridge, or any of their living imitators, however congenial their respective tastes for speculative subtleties, could tempt him so to disregard the boundary between reason and faith as to lose sight of Calvary, or mistake an ignis fatuus for the Sun of Righteousness. His college experience, and, I have sometimes thought the genius collegii, with a father's and mother's teachings and prayers, all favored by the Spirit who only searcheth the deep things of God, kept him near and true to the everlasting Word.

"But we forgot all his speculative trials and temptations, we forgot almost that he was not perfect but in part, when, in his sacred character, and in this sacred place, he laid aside his weapons of intellectual warfare, and, with his peculiar meekness of wisdom, simplicity of statement, power of argument, and cogency of appeal, testified to us the great things of the kingdom of God, so far as he had learned them out of the Holy Scripture. Very instructive and affecting it was, when, as sometimes, the aspiring philosopher, the uncompromising logician, the astute economist, the grave and learned dogmatist, renounced these and all other accomplishments of nature, or rather made them subservient to the greater accomplishments of grace. Then we admired, even to tears of thankfulness, how the wise man, in becoming a fool, becomes truly wise; how he who could be great among his fellows on Mars Hill,—great after the fashion of the Areopagus,—could be greater, after a higher fashion, in declaring the God there Unknown; in repeating simply the lessons of that heavenly wisdom which none of the princes of this world knew; and, with a child-like sincerity and earnestness, from his own sense of the sufficiency of redeeming mercy, inviting us to 'The Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world.'

"It might seem that one so abstract and speculative, so contemplative and reserved, would naturally be wanting in those sensibilities and affections which are justly reckoned indispensable to the highest excellence of character, and to the happiness, or the relief, of our present state. But appearances do not necessarily represent, but more frequently conceal, realities. I have been permitted to read some of his most familiar letters, which reveal a sunny and cheery side of his character which I had not learned from personal observation. That he had a susceptible and generous heart no man ever doubted. But one must know what he has written to his friends, out of its unperceived fullness, to appreciate those hidden sympathies of his nature which brought him into harmony as well with the outer as the inner world. Few would have a better relish for innocent festivities, or the pleasures of travel, or the grander and finer works of nature or art. Few would be more excited by the sparkle or roar of ocean, the magnificent scenery of Centre Harbor, the sublime panorama of the White Mountains, or the quiet beauties of the Connecticut valley. True, such objects engaged him but for a time. They were not his chief good. He wanted the higher satisfactions of enlarged knowledge, of speculative insight, of reasoning activity, of professional engagement. They were not his work, but his pastime. Yet, when he played, it was with as great enjoyment as any man can have who plays alone, and far greater than they have, or can have, who do naught but play in company, who care for little but sights and sounds, at length sickened and enfeebled by their very tastes, incapable of grave and dignified pursuits, disgusted by their own vanities, remorseful at their own intemperate hilarities, saying, at last, of laughter, 'It is mad, and of mirth, what doth it?' Stoical he may have been, for that belongs, almost of course, to natural magnanimity, and familiarity with large and elevated themes; but ascetic and cynical he was not, and could not have been, with his appreciation of Christian truth, and experience of a Saviour's love.

"The scholar, teacher, preacher, learned, profound, effective, venerable in all relations, has passed away; the good man, regenerate by the grace of God, trusting in the righteousness of Christ, and hoping for salvation only through redeeming blood; the righteous man, stern and inflexible in his integrity, who never dissembled, never professed what he did not feel, never hated, never spoke evil of his neighbor, and could and did say that he was never angry at his brother; the faithful man, who was true to his engagements, kept his post, and, in weariness and painfulness, performed his appointed work till he was struck with death; the husband, father, friend, of whom, in these relations, it were impertinent to speak particularly, while wounded spirits are already telling, too much, how great his value, and how great their loss. He has passed away, dying as he had lived, and taught, and preached,—in faith; peaceful as a little child, and hopeful of that better state where that which is perfect will come, and that which is in part shall be done away."

Professor Long published a sermon before the W. R. Synod in 1847, a discourse on "The Literary Merits of Immoral Books," in the same year, "Inaugural Address at Auburn," in 1858, a sermon in Dartmouth College Church, "Jesus Exalted yet Divine," in 1859, and a memorial sermon on Professor Roswell Shurtleff, in 1861. In 1836, with Professor Gregg, he assumed the editorship of the "Ohio Observer" published at Hudson. In their first address to their readers is this passage: "In relation to the subject of slavery we shall take the high ground that man is man and cannot therefore be treated and used as property without sin, that immediate emancipation is a duty, and that it is therefore the duty of every man to pray and strive in every virtuous way for the abolition of slavery." The last date of an editorial is June, 1837.

Professor Long married Rhoda Ensign, daughter of Alpha Rockwell, of Winsted, Connecticut. He died at Hanover, October 14, 1861.

* * * * *

Propriety forbids more than the briefest reference to a large number of the worthy living, who have been, or who still are numbered among Dartmouth's professors, in the Academical department. Otherwise we might dwell, with profit, upon the name of the able theologian, George Howe; of the eminent linguist, Calvin E. Stowe; of that strong and graceful master of the English, the Latin, and the Greek, Edwin D. Sanborn, who is now just passing the threshold of the "three score and ten," and completing nearly a half century of various and valuable connection with his Alma Mater; of Oliver P. Hubbard, who is still patiently and skillfully unfolding the secrets of science in halls which have echoed his voice for more than forty years; of Samuel G. Brown, the music of whose chaste and charming lectures on Rhetoric still lingers in the ears of a long line of pupils; of Daniel J. Noyes, whose fidelity, courtesy, and kindness in the chairs of Theology and Philosophy have given him a warm place in the hearts of nearly thirty classes; of James W. Patterson, whose pupils have watched the turning of the thoughts of an admired and honored teacher from Natural to Political Science, with unceasing interest, and followed him through the vicissitudes of public service, with undiminished affection; of Charles A. Aiken, the critical and accomplished linguist, whose loss by the college was deemed almost irreparable; of William A. Packard, who, in a kindred department gave early promise of his later success; of Charles A. Young, whose scientific researches have added to the fame of his family, his college, and his country. Nor should the service rendered to the cause of science by Henry Fairbanks and John R. Varney, while professors at Dartmouth, escape our notice.

A proper estimate of the value of the services of those who are now manfully and successfully bearing "the burden and heat of the day," and bidding fair to do so for years to come, in this important field, with its slender pecuniary rewards, of Samuel C. Bartlett, Henry E. Parker, Elihu T. Quimby, Charles H. Hitchcock, John C. Proctor, Charles F. Emerson, and John K. Lord, must be left to a future historian.

The tutor's chair at Dartmouth has been filled by many men of high promise, some going to premature graves, others to what they deemed more inviting fields. Among them we find such names as Calvin Crane, Moses Fiske, Asa McFarland, John Noyes, the value of whose instruction was gratefully acknowledged by Dartmouth's most illustrious son a quarter of a century after his graduation, Thomas A. Merrill, Frederick Hall, Josiah Noyes, Andrew Mack, John Brown, Henry Bond, William White, Rufus W. Bailey, James Marsh, Nathan Welby Fiske, Rufus Choate, Oramel S. Hinckley, John D. Willard, Henry Wood, Ebenezer C. Tracy, Ira Perley, Silas Aiken, Evarts Worcester, Jarvis Gregg, and Samuel H. Taylor. We cannot dwell upon individual merit, nor give even the names of all who have rendered valuable service in this sphere.

The "Indian Charity School," also has had many teachers of distinguished worth. Among them we find such names as Benjamin Trumbull, the historian, to whom we have referred heretofore; Ralph Wheelock, the favorite son of the honored founder, who would doubtless have left to him his official mantle, but for the early failure of his health; James Dean, whose name is indelibly engraven upon the earlier periods of our national history, Jacob Fowler, who well illustrated the value of Christian civilization to the Indian; Caleb Bingham and Elisha Ticknor, whose names are closely interwoven with the educational history of New England's metropolis, Josiah Dunham, Judah Dana, Caleb Butler, William A. Hayes, the intimate and honored friend of Francis Brown, Joseph Perry, John S. Emerson, and Osgood Johnson.



CHAPTER XXVII.

MEDICAL DEPARTMENT.—PROFESSORS NATHAN SMITH, REUBEN D. MUSSEY, DIXI CROSBY, EDMUND R. PEASLEE, ALBERT SMITH, AND ALPHEUS B. CROSBY.—OTHER TEACHERS.

In "A Contribution to the Medical History of New Hampshire," by Prof. A. B. Crosby, we find a condensed history of the Medical Department of the College.

"Soon after its formation, the impression became general that the State Society, excellent as it was both in design and execution, did not fully answer the medical wants of New Hampshire. There were those who felt that the young men of the State should have systematic, didactic instruction, and that this could be accomplished only by the foundation of a regularly chartered medical college. This plan was eventually reduced to a demonstration through the energy and talents of one man. It is with profound veneration that I write the name of Nathan Smith. Himself a member of the society, I know not but he here gained inspiration and encouragement for the enterprise from his associates. At the annual meeting of the Board of Trustees of Dartmouth College, in August, 1796, being then a Bachelor of Medicine, not having received the degree of M.D., he made an application to the Board, asking their encouragement and approbation of a plan he had devised to establish a professorship of the Theory and Practice of Medicine in connection with Dartmouth College. After considerable discussion, the Board voted to postpone their final action upon the proposition for a year, but in the meantime a resolution was passed complimentary to the character and energy of Mr. Smith, and promising such encouragement and assistance in the future as the plan might merit and the circumstances of the college admit.

"The records of the college are extremely barren of details respecting the preliminary steps towards a medical establishment, and there are no means of knowing what the action of the Board was the following year. It is evident, however, that some measures must have been taken in relation to the future welfare of the school, for in the year 1798 we find that 'the fee for conferring the degree of Bachelor of Medicine pro meritis be twenty dollars.' The honorary degree of Master of Arts was the same year conferred on Mr. Smith, while it remained for a subsequent Board to discover that his professional attainments merited the rank and title of Doctor.

"Later in the same session it was voted 'That a professor be appointed, whose duty it shall be to deliver public lectures upon Anatomy, Surgery, Chemistry, Materia Medica, and the Theory and Practice of Physic, and that said professor be entitled to receive payment for instruction in those branches, as hereafter mentioned, as compensation for his services in that office.' Mr. Smith was at once chosen to fulfill the laborious, and to us almost incredible duties of this professorship, while the compensation alluded to was for a long time held in abeyance. We also find that in this year the Board adopted the following code of Medical Statutes:

"1. Lectures shall begin the first of October, annually, and continue ten weeks, during which the professor shall deliver three lectures daily, Saturday and Sunday excepted.

"2. In the lectures on the Theory and Practice of Physic, shall be explained the nature of diseases and method of cure.

"3. The lectures on Chemistry and Materia Medica shall be accompanied by actual experiments, tending to explain and demonstrate the principles of Chemistry, and an exhibition shall be made of the principal medicines used in curing disease, with an explanation of their medicinal qualities, and effect on the human body.

"4. In the lectures on Anatomy and Surgery, shall be demonstrated the parts of the human body by dissecting a recent subject, if such subject can be legally obtained; otherwise, by exhibiting anatomical preparations, which shall be attended by the performance of the principal capital operations in surgery. [The lower animals were used to some extent.]

"5. The medical professor shall be entitled to the use of the college library and apparatus gratis.

"6. The medical students shall be entitled to the use of the college library under the discretionary restrictions of the president.

"7. Medical students shall be subject to the same rules of morality and decorum as Bachelors in Art residing at the college.

"8. No graduate of any college shall be admitted to an examination for the degree of Bachelor of Medicine, unless he shall have studied two full years with some respectable physician, or surgeon, and attended two full courses of lectures at some university.

"9. No person not a graduate shall be admitted to such an examination unless he shall have studied three full years, as above, attended two full courses of lectures, and shall, upon a preparatory examination before the president and professors, be able to parse the English and Latin languages, to construe Virgil and Cicero's orations, and possess a good knowledge of common Arithmetic, Geometry, Geography, and Natural and Moral Philosophy.

"10. Examinations shall be holden in public before the executive authority of the college by the medical professor, and candidates shall read and defend a dissertation, etc.

"11. Every person receiving a degree in Medicine shall cause his thesis to be printed, and sixteen copies thereof to be delivered to the president, for the use of the college and Trustees.

"12. The fee for attending a full course of lectures shall be fifty dollars; that is, for Anatomy and Surgery, twenty-five dollars; for Chemistry and Materia Medica, fifteen dollars, and for Theory and Practice, ten dollars.

"13. The members of the two senior classes in college may attend the medical lectures by paying twenty dollars for the full course.

"Besides these statutes, the Trustees voted that Mr. Smith might employ assistance in any of his departments, at his own expense, and that one half part of the fees for conferring the degree of Bachelor of Medicine be his perquisite, and the other half a perquisite to the president of the college.

"The first course of lectures was delivered in the fall of 1797, although Mr. Smith was not elected to his professorship until after his return from Europe, the following year. In the year 1798, two young men were graduated with the degree of Bachelor of Medicine. The next year the Trustees voted to appropriate a room in the northeast corner of Dartmouth Hall to the use of Professor Smith, and it was repaired and furnished for that purpose. The room was a small one, scarcely as large as a common parlor, but still it served for a lecture hall, dissecting-room, chemical laboratory and library, for several years, when another room adjoining was appropriated to the same purpose.

"In 1801, the degree of Doctor of Medicine was conferred upon Mr. Smith, and a committee was appointed to confer with him in relation to a salary. A grant of fifty dollars per annum was voted him, upon which he was to allow a debt he owed the college for money loaned. I presume that this latter was furnished him in order to enable him to visit Europe.

"The Trustees about this time made a change in the term of study required for a degree. The new statute fixed the period of three years for academical graduates, and five years for non-graduates."

In 1803 the New Hampshire Legislature granted $600 to Dr. Smith for the purchase of apparatus, and in 1809 $3,450 for "a building of brick or stone for a medical school, sixty-five feet in length, thirty-two feet in width, and two stories in height," Dr. Smith furnishing land for the purpose. He furnished one acre, on which a brick building seventy-five feet in length, two stories in the middle, with wings of three stories, was erected, at a cost of over $4,600, Dr. Smith becoming responsible for the balance. By the terms of the above grants the building and anatomical and chemical apparatus became the property of the State upon the removal of Dr. Smith from the institution, which is with propriety styled the "New Hampshire Medical College."

In 1810 Dr. Cyrus Perkins (created a Doctor upon that occasion) was elected professor of Anatomy. Some trouble having occurred about this time between the college officers and the Medical students, the following articles were added to the laws.

* * * * *

"'1. That each person, previous to becoming a member of the Medical institution, shall be required to give satisfactory evidence that he possesses a good moral character.

"'2. That it be required of medical students that they conduct themselves respectfully towards the executive officers of the college, and if any of them should be guilty of immoral or ungentlemanly conduct the executive may expel them, and no professor shall receive or continue to receive as his private pupil any such expelled person, or recommend him to any other medical man or institution.

"'3. That the executive officers of the college be, and hereby are authorized to visit the rooms of the medical students whenever they think proper.'

* * * * *

"In the year 1812, some important changes were made in the economy of the institution. Up to this time the degree of Bachelor of Medicine only was conferred upon recent graduates, while the degree of M.D. was only allowed in course three years after graduation. This was now changed, and the degree of Doctor of Medicine was conferred upon all medical graduates. The term of study was again changed, and fixed at the present standard. Another of the new regulations and perhaps the least agreeable one to the students, compelled candidates to read their theses publicly in the chapel.

"The Faculty was also strengthened by the appointment of Rufus Graves, Esq., as lecturer on Chemistry, making this department, for the first time, a separate branch. Colonel Graves, although a good lecturer, was an unsuccessful manipulator, which caused his dismission in 1815, three years later. During the same year [1812, at Dartmouth] we find that Mr. Reuben D. Mussey, a name thoroughly identified with the success of the school, and with medical progress in New Hampshire, was created a Doctor of Medicine.

"In 1814, Dr. Smith having been absent for a year, it was voted that the salary and emoluments pertaining to the chair of Medicine, be paid to Dr. Perkins, and at an adjourned meeting the resignation of Dr. Smith was received and accepted. The Board then proceeded to elect Dr. Mussey professor of Theory and Practice and Materia Medica. In 1816, Dr. Perkins was excused from lecturing on Surgery, and Obstetrics was added to his chair, instead, while Dr. Mussey assumed the department of Chemistry, in addition to his other labors. In the meanwhile Dr. Smith was re-elected professor of Surgery, but declining to accept, Dr. Massey added a course of lectures on this branch to his already laborious duties. The following year he was somewhat relieved by the choice of Dr. James F. Dana, as lecturer on Chemistry, which office he continued to hold until 1820, when he was elected to a full professorship. In August, 1819, Dr. Perkins resigned his chair.

"By vote of the Board of Trustees, in 1820, they accepted the proffered fraternization of the New Hampshire Medical Society, by sending delegates to attend the annual examinations. The statutes were also altered very materially. By these amendments the Medical Faculty were allowed the sole control of the discipline, etc., of their department. Students coming to attend lectures were not required to give evidence of the possession of a good moral character, as under the old laws. The invidious have alleged that this latter amendment enabled a larger number to avail themselves of the advantages of a medical education than might otherwise do so. The requirements for graduation were at the same time lessened, being now limited to a knowledge of Latin and Natural and Experimental Philosophy, while the examinations were to be private, instead of public, as heretofore.

"It was determined that the Medical Faculty should henceforth consist of:

"1. The president of the College.

"2. A professor of Surgery, Obstetrics, and Medical Jurisprudence.

"3. A professor of Theory and Practice and Materia Medica.

"4. A professor of Chemistry and Mineralogy.

"5. A professor of Anatomy and Physiology.

"Dr. Mussey was elected to the first of the professorial chairs; Dr. Daniel Oliver, of Salem, Mass., to the second; Dr. James F. Dana, to the third, and Dr. Usher Parsons to the fourth. Dr. Parsons remained but two years, when Dr. Mussey was appointed professor of Anatomy, in addition to his other branches. No further change occurred until 1826, when Dr. Dana resigned the chair of Chemistry, which was filled by the election of Professor Hale, who continued to lecture until 1835, when his connection with the college ceased. The following year Dr. John Delamater was chosen professor of the Theory and Practice of Physic, and the present incumbent, Dr. O. P. Hubbard, professor of Chemistry, while in 1838 a great change was made in the Medical Faculty by the resignation of all the lecturers except Professor Hubbard. By the election of the Trustees, the Faculty now consisted of Elisha Bartlett, Oliver Wendell Holmes, John Delamater, Oliver Payson Hubbard, Dixi Crosby, and Stephen W. Williams. Dr. Bartlett resigned in 1840, and was succeeded by Dr. Joseph Roby. Dr. Delamater also left, and Dr. Holmes tendered his resignation. The next year, 1841, Dr. Phelps and Dr. Peaslee commenced their long and useful connection with the school. No farther change was made until 1849, when Dr. Roby resigned and Dr. Albert Smith was elected. In 1867 Dixi Crosby resigned the chair of Surgery, and A. B. Crosby, who had served as adjunct professor of Surgery since 1862, was elected to fill the vacancy. In 1869, Dr. Peaslee, having resigned the chair of Anatomy and Physiology, was transferred to a new chair of the Diseases of Women, while Lyman Bartlett How, M.D., was elected to fill the vacancy. And finally Dr. Dixi Crosby has sent in his resignation of the chair of Obstetrics, to take effect at the ensuing commencement (1870), thus terminating an active connection of thirty-two years with the school.

"Nathan Smith, the founder of the school, was without dispute a great man. He was born at Rehoboth, Massachusetts, September 30, 1762. Incited to enter the profession by witnessing an amputation in Vermont, he devoted himself to acquiring the best preliminary education his means afforded, and eventually entered his profession full of zeal and ambition, resolved to act no secondary part in his chosen vocation. To found a medical college at Dartmouth was the chief desire of his early manhood. Regardless of his own pecuniary interests, he borrowed money to buy the necessary apparatus and appliances with which to commence his course of instruction. When the increasing demands of the institution required a building for its accommodation, it was through his personal efforts that it was secured. The means were raised and the project carried out by Dr. Smith, who, himself, on his own responsibility, furnished a large part of the money. A part, as shown by the records, was also secured by the same gentleman from the Legislature of New Hampshire.

"Dr. Smith was a man of genius. I hazard nothing in saying that he was fifty years in advance of his profession. He was one of those characters who was not only an observing man, but, rarest of all, he was a good observer. Nothing escaped him, and when he had seized on all the salient points of a given subject, he astounded his listeners with the full, symmetrical character of his generalizations.

"As intances in point, let me briefly advert to one or two illustrations. When Dr. Smith entered the profession, everything in the way of continued fever in the valley of the Connecticut was termed typhus. Dr. S. soon became convinced that while true typhus did prevail, there was yet a continued fever essentially different in its character, and so he came to differentiate between typhus and typhoid. Noting carefully the symptoms in these cases, making autopsies whenever a chance occurred, and observing the morbid changes thus revealed, he soon found himself master of the situation. Then he wrote an unpretending little tract, in which he embodied his observations and his inferences. This brochure was undoubtedly the first comprehensive description of typhoid fever written, and covered in a wonderfully exhaustive way not only the clinical history, but the pathology, of this most interesting disease. This noble record of results, obtained by observations made mainly at Norwich, Vermont, and Cornish, New Hampshire, was almost the 'Vox clamantis in deserto.'

"Many years later, in the great hospitals of Paris, Louis made and published his own observations in regard to the same disease, and the whole medical world rang with plaudits of admiration at his genius and learning. But in the modest little tract of Nathan Smith, the gist and germ of all the magnificent discoveries of Louis are anticipated. And thus it is again demonstrated that men of genius are confined to no age and to no country, but whether in the wilds of New Hampshire or in the world's gayest capital, they form a fraternity as cosmopolitan as useful.

"I have recently learned an incident that still further illustrates Dr. Smith's sagacity. While residing in Cornish he had a friend who was a sea-captain, and who, on his return from foreign voyages, was wont to relate to him whatever of interest in a medical way he might have chanced to observe while abroad. On one occasion he told Dr. Smith that on his previous voyage one of the sailors dislocated his hip; there being no surgeon on board, the captain tried but in vain to reduce it. The man was accordingly placed in a hammock with the dislocation unreduced. During a great storm the sufferer was thrown from the hammock to the floor, striking violently on the knee of the affected side. On examination, it was found that in the fall the hip had somehow been set. This greatly interested Dr. Smith, and he questioned the narrator again and again as to the exact position of the thigh, the knee and the leg, at the time of the fall.

"From this apparently insignificant circumstance, Dr. Smith eventually educed and reduced to successful practice the method of reducing dislocations by the manoeuvre, a system as useful as it is simple, and as scientific as the principle of flexion and leverage on which it depends. Had this incident been related to a stupid man, he would have seen nothing in it, or to a skeptic, he would have discredited the whole account, but to a man of genius it furnished a clue by which another of Nature's labyrinths was traced out. This system is by far the best ever devised, symplifying and rendering easy the work of the surgeon, while reducing human suffering to its minimum.

"I do not propose to recall to your minds how much he did for Medicine and Surgery; that were the work of days, not a single hour.

"Time would fail me to relate the well authenticated traditions of his skill, his benevolence and his practical greatness. But almost from the inception of his professional life until he left for New Haven, he was the acknowledged leader of his profession in the State, and his reputation came soon to cover the whole of New England. He was the father of several sons, who have since been distinguished in the same profession. The venerable Professor N. R. Smith, of Baltimore, is the eldest, and perhaps the most celebrated, of the survivors."

The venerable Dr. A. T. Lowe adds the following valuable paragraphs:

"In the organization and early history of the Medical department of Dartmouth College Dr. Nathan Smith occupied a pre-eminent position. For ten or twelve years he was the actual manager and the only professor in the institution, giving three lectures each day, for five days in the week, through the term of ten to twelve weeks. He lectured with great acceptance in all the branches of the profession then taught in the few kindred institutions existing in the country, and he contributed liberally to the pecuniary support of the institution, frequently to his great personal inconvenience. With these accumulated duties to discharge, he faithfully attended to a large practice in Medicine and Surgery, which was daily increasing, and severely tasking his physical as well as his intellectual powers, and his fame, in the line of his profession, soon placed him at its head; and his skill and the history of his remarkable success, so frequently announced, and so well attested, was early recognized and acknowledged, not only throughout his State, but was scarcely limited to New England. By a seeming universal consent Dr. Smith's name stood among the highest in the medical temple of fame.

"Dr. Smith was not what the world would now call a learned man. We may say of him, in this respect, what Ben Jonson said of Shakespeare: 'He knew little Latin and less Greek,' but he had a mind and a power of intellect which as eminently fitted him for a physician, as Shakespeare's genius qualified him to become a dramatist of the highest character; and whatever the occasion, whether it related to the lecturer or teacher, to the surgeon or physician, Dr. Smith could readily exercise his whole moral force for the enlightenment of his pupil, or the health of his patient.

"The writer of these lines became his pupil in 1816; attending him almost daily in his professional visits, to witness his practice and listen to his clinical instruction."

After giving one or two instances of his quick diagnostic ability and his highly successful practice, he continues:

"Dr. Smith was a great and good man. He never appeared to toil for professional fame, but to do good to his fellow-man: and in view of his virtues as a citizen and his justly pre-eminent skill as a physician, one of his surviving pupils of those early days, who now counts more than four-score years, feels impelled to exclaim,—Honored be the memory of Nathan Smith, the founder, father, and for many years the sustainer of the Medical Department of Dartmouth College; ever recognized by all his friends and acquaintances—and their name was legion—as an honest man and most useful citizen."

Professor Smith married successively, Elizabeth and Sarah, daughters of Gen. Jonathan Chase, of Cornish, N. H. He died at New Haven, Conn., where he had been some years a professor in the Medical Department of Yale College, January 26, 1829.

* * * * *

A commemorative "Address," by Professor A. B. Crosby, contains the following account of Professor Smith's successor:

"Reuben Dimond Mussey was born in Pelham, N. H., June 23, 1780. His father, Dr. John Mussey, was a respectable physician and an excellent man.

"Determined to have an education, although too poor to immediately attain it, he labored on a farm in summer and taught a school during the winter. This he continued to do until, at the age of twenty-one, he entered the Junior class in Dartmouth College, in the year 1801. He continued to teach for his support while in college, and acquitted himself creditably as a scholar, being reckoned in the first third of his class.

"He was graduated in August, 1803, and immediately became a pupil of Dr. Nathan Smith, the founder of Dartmouth Medical College. The following summer young Mussey taught an academy at Peterborough, and studied with Dr. Howe of Jaffrey.

"He completed his studies with Dr. Smith, sustained a public examination, and read and defended a thesis on Dysentery. The degree of Bachelor of Medicine having been conferred upon him in 1806, he commenced practice in Ipswich, now Essex, Mass. Here he practiced successfully for three years, when he settled his business and went to Philadelphia, where he engaged in medical study for a period of nine months. While at Chebacco, now Essex, Mass., he married Miss Mary Sewall, who survived the marriage only three years. He subsequently married Miss Hetty Osgood, a daughter of Dr. Osgood of Salem, who served as a surgeon in the army during the Revolution. Under the instruction of Benjamin Smith Barton, he attended a full course of lectures in the University of Pennsylvania, and was graduated as a Doctor in Medicine in the year 1809. The professors at that time were Rush, Wistar, Physic, Dorsey, Barton, and Woodhouse.

"Drs. Chapman and James gave the course in Obstetrics. Dr. Mussey here distinguished himself by a series of experiments tending to rebut some of the generally received physiological doctrines of the time.

"On his return from Philadelphia he settled in Salem, Mass., and soon afterward formed a partnership with Dr. Daniel Oliver, subsequently a professor in the Dartmouth Medical College.

"These gentlemen gave popular courses of lectures on Chemistry, in Salem, with great acceptance. Dr. Mussey remained in this field between five and six years, and attained a large practice during the last three years, averaging, it is said, a fraction over three obstetric cases a week. He had already distinguished himself as a surgeon, and in the autumn of 1814 he was called to the chair of Theory and Practice at Dartmouth. He gave in addition a course on Chemistry, most acceptably to the students, and engaged in an extended and a laborious practice.

"In 1822, Dr. Mussey was appointed professor of Anatomy and Surgery. Until the close of the session of 1838, he held this chair, and also lectured on Materia Medica and Obstetrics, to meet occasional exigencies in the college.

"In the summer of 1818 he lectured on Chemistry in the college at Middlebury, Vt. In December, 1829, Dr. Mussey left Hanover for Paris, where he remained several months. He passed several weeks in London, visited the great hospitals and museums, both there and in the provinces, and became acquainted with many distinguished men.

"Not far from this time he was invited to fill the chair of Anatomy and Surgery at Bowdoin College, which he did for four years in succession. In 1836 and 1837, Dr. Mussey went to Fairfield, New York, and gave lectures on surgery at the Medical College in that place. During the year 1837 a professorship was tendered him in New York city, Cincinnati, and Nashville, Tennessee. He decided to accept the call to Cincinnati, and for fourteen years was the leading man in the Ohio Medical College. He then founded the Miami Medical College, labored assiduously for its good six years, and then retired from active professional life, though still retaining all his ardor and enthusiasm for his chosen profession. At the close of his professorial duties in 1858, Dr. Mussey removed to Boston, where he spent the remainder of his life, and died from the infirmities of age, June 21, 1866.

"He had ever been from his youth a consistent, devout Christian, and his record is without spot or blemish.

"It was as a surgeon that Dr. Mussey came to be most extensively known. Both as an operative and a scientific surgeon he attained a national reputation.

"He cared not to make a figure, but to benefit his patient; not to gain eclat, but to save human life. He believed much in skilled surgery, something in nature, but most of all in God. So it transpired that on the eve of a great operation he frequently knelt at the bedside, and sought skill and strength and success from the great Source of all vitality. We are told that the moral effect upon the patient, and the peaceful composure that followed, were not the least of the agencies that so often rendered his surgery successful.

"But he was not content blindly to accept the dictum of those who had gone before. Every principle was carefully scrutinized, and whatever he believed to be false he did not hesitate to attack, and so his name came to be associated with surgical progress. As illustrative of this point, some instances may be adduced.

"In the year 1830, and before that period, Sir Astley Cooper had taught the doctrine of non-union in cases of intra-capsular fracture, and it was generally accepted as an established principle at that time. Dr. Mussey carried a specimen to England which he believed showed the possibility of such union taking place. Sir Astley on first seeing it said, "This was never broken," but on seeing a section of the same specimen remarked, 'This does look a little more like it, to be sure, but I do not think the fracture was entirely within the capsular ligament.' John Thompson of Edinburgh, on seeing it, declared 'upon his troth and honor' that it had never been broken. This eminent surgeon, like the disputatious Massachusetts Scotchman, 'always positive and sometimes right,' was in this instance mistaken, as the principle advocated by Dr. Mussey is now established.