FRANCIS GARDNER. LLD.
LATE HEAD- MASTER
BOSTON LATIN SCHOOL.
PRINTED FOR THE BOSTON LATIN SCHOOL ASSOCIATION.
A MEETING of the BOSTON LATIN SCHOOL ASSOCIATION
was held in the hall of the school-house on Thursday,
January i3th, 1876, to take action in reference to the death
of FRANCIS GARDNER, LL. D., late head-master of the school.
The President, Mr. Charles K. Dillaway, appointed Mr.
Wendell Phillips, Dr. B. B. Appleton, William R. Dimmock,
LL. D., Mr. Augustine M. Gay, and Mr. Godfrey Morse,
a committee to prepare suitable Resolutions, which were
reported, and entered as a Minute on the records of the
Association. They will be found on a subsequent page.
A committee was appointed to arrange for a Memorial
Service, consisting of the following gentlemen : Mr.
Charles K. Dillaway, President, Mr* Joseph Healy, Secretary,
Mr. John D. Bryant, Mr. Augustine M. Gay, Rev. Henry F.
Jenks, Mr. Godfrey Morse, and Mr. Arthur Reed.
The Memorial Services were held in Huntington Hall,
March i5th, 1876, the anniversary of Dr. GARDNER S birth.
The following was the
ORDER OF EXERCISES.
PRAYER, by the Rev. James H. Means, D. D., a graduate
of the Class of 1839 :
Our Father and our Friend, we gather before Thee as Thy
children. Thou dost call us into being, and give us each our
work, and in Thine own time dost take the life Thou didst give.
But amid these changes, Thou Thyself remainest the same,
guiding all, and building whatever we accomplish into the great
temple of Thy plans ; so that if we live to Thee, our work cannot
be in vain or perish.
We are mindful to-night of the devoted labors of him who was
our Teacher. We thank Thee that Thou didst spare him so
long, didst permit him to accomplish so much for successive
classes of pupils, and didst in the end so order it that his work
and life should cease together.
Thou didst lead him in a path not of his own choosing. Thou
didst call him in early life to the care of widowed mother and
sisters, a trust how sacredly fulfilled ! Hedging up the path
to domestic life, Thou gavest him his pupils for his children.
With grateful hearts, we bless Thee for what he was to us :
for the fidelity with which he toiled for our good ; for the earnest
ness of his efforts to foster all high thought and generous learning ;
for his spirit of self-sacrifice. We recall tenderly his words of
counsel and encouragement. We can rejoice now even in his
stern severity, seeing in it only the proof of his zeal in our behalf.
We honor his memory, feeling that his life has entered into ours,
that we owe largely to him what we may have been able to
accomplish ; and we pray Thee that by his example and teaching,
by all the high-toned characters of those about us, we may be
quickened and made diligent, may be led to live for the good of
our fellow-men and for Thy glory so that when the end comes
to us, as it has to him, we may feel that we have finished the
work given us to do, and, looking unto Jesus, may rest in peace.
May Thy blessing be with those personally bereaved ; comfort
them in Thine infinite love. May it rest with those now or in
other years associated with the departed in the work of instruction.
May the School with which he was so long connected, send forth
in the future as in the past, many who shall serve Thee in their
generation by honorable and useful lives. Guide those who have
charge of the interests of education in this city, that its institutions
of learning may be models for the whole land. And let the words
now to be spoken to us stir our hearts at once to honor him who
has gone, and to profit by his example, even as we were blessed
by his life.
And unto Thee, of whom and through whom, and to whom are
all things, shall be the praise forever. Amen.
Music, " INTEGER VITAE," by the choristers :-
Integer vitae scelerisque purus
Non eget Mauris jaculis nee arcu
Nee venenatis gravida sagittis
Sive per Syrtes iter aestuosas
Sive facturus per inhospitalem
Caucasum vel quae loca fabulosus
Namque me silva lupus in Sabina,
Dum meam canto Lalagen et ultra
Terminum curis vagor expeditis,
A MEMORIAL ODE was next pronounced by Mr. Robert
Grant, of the Class of 1869, (given in full on a subsequent
page,) followed by
Music, by the Choristers : " Master, Master, growing
old." Words by Mr. Horace E. Scudder, of the Class of
1864 ; music by Mr. Charles L. Capen.
" Master, Master, growing old,
Dost thou cling- to me?
Seek my boyish hand to hold ?
Use my eyes to see ? "
" I was young as thou art now ;
Let me still be young as thou."
" Careless youth and learned age
Master, dost thou find
Aught on my unwritten page,
That may ease thy mind ? "
" Faith and honor, love and truth,
These abide with happy youth."
" Master, art thou gone from me ?
Hast thou dropped my hand ?
Whither shall I go for thee ?
To what shadowy land ? "
" Where the young are, there am I ;
Youth lives on, though age may die."
Closed are now those burning eyes,
Gone that rugged smile ;
Deep in our hearts the Master lies :
Past his grave we file,
Singing: "Master, hear our song;
Live in our hearts forever young."
The MEMORIAL ADDRESS was then delivered by William
R. Dimmock, LL. D., of the Class of i85i, which was
Music, from Mendelssohn s St. Paul, " Be thou faithful
unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life. Be not
afraid ; My help is nigh," which was sung by Dr. S. W.
The exercises were closed with the BENEDICTION, by the
Rev. James Reed, of the Class of i85i.
The musical portion of the exercises, sung by choristers,
under the leadership of Mr. C. J. Capen, of the Class of
1839* was furnished by the following named gentlemen : -
First Tenors, Henry W. Broughton, (Class of 1871,) John
Homans, (1854,) Henry R. Stedman, (1867,) Howard M.
Stephens. Second Tenors, Harry B. Hodges, (1870,) Arthur
S. Kendall, (1871,) Frederick H. Lombard, Frank Merriam,
(1867.) First Bases, Francis Campbell, (1871,) Frederick
Dabney, (1862,) Frank W. Robinson, (1866,) Frederick H.
Robinson, (1870.) Second Bases, Alfred S. Dabney, (1867,)
Horace A. Lamb, (1867,) George S. Lamson, (1872,)
Frank W. Rollins, (1873.)
^ I ^HE task I have undertaken to-night is a difficult one.
The life of a teacher is such, that it cannot, in its full
measure, be made known to any. Its deepest anxieties
and highest aspirations are such, that one so self-contained
as he whose life and services we come here to commemo
rate, would not speak much of them to his friends, however
intimate ; and its toils and efforts are not those that are
observed of men.
In most walks of life, we can judge of men by what they
do. Their efforts pass into achievements : the achieve
ments remain. But when the simple record of a life is,
that forty-three years \vere spent in the same school among
successive generations of boys, who, because of their
boyhood, could know really little of the motives and the
efforts of their teacher, whom yet they venerated; I may
well feel afraid, lest my words should fall so far short of
their intended effect, as not to present the reasons for your
veneration so fully as to justify the respect and love that
you already bear for him.
Besides, if he had been a somewhat common-place man,
whose principal traits had been amiability and a genial
disposition; who had, by continued existence in the same
place, performed with fidelity, year after year, a round of
routine duties, until we felt that his long service had given
him title to our respect as a faithful public servant, it would
not, perhaps, be hard to present fully to you such a presence
and such a character.
But every one who knew at all the great man whose
memory we would preserve, felt that he was, in no sense, a
common man ; that his traits of character were both marked
and peculiar, that they were fashioned in a complex
mould. HOW T can I, then, be sure that I can represent
it in words, so that you will have the same impression of
FRANCIS GARDNER, which was" partially formed in my own
mind in boyhood ; modified and rounded in my early man
hood, and which has been strengthened and deepened by
every year of my acquaintance with him ? And if I should
so succeed in conveying to you this impression, how can I
be sure that this will appear to you at all the likeness of
the man whom you knew ?
Feeling these inherent difficulties in my undertaking, I
should have been glad if some one else had accepted this
office ; and it is only from a sense of profound gratitude,
and of all but filial duty, that I have yielded to the wish of
your Committee, and attempt to represent to you something
of the worth of the noble life and the grandeur of personal
character of FRANCIS GARDNER.
Sixty-four years ago, to-day, in the beautiful village of
Walpole, New Hampshire, he was born. His father, the
Hon. Francis Gardner, was a lawyer, a graduate of Harvard
College, in the Class of 1/93, son of the Reverend Francis
Gardner, also a graduate of Harvard, in the Class of i;55,
a Congregational clergyman, settled in Leorninster, Massa
chusetts, who is described in the History of Leominster as
"a man of sound understanding and of great learning," and
"a discreet and prudent pastor." His mother s maiden
name was Margaret Leonard, daughter of William Leonard,
a man of influence in West Springfield, Massachusetts.
The father, Francis Gardner, Senior, was a lawyer of
prominence in Southern New Hampshire, and represented
his district in Congress in 1807-8. There, however, he
offended his party, by proving himself independent of party
politics, and was not re-elected. These times in which we
live, are not, in all respects, unlike the times that have gone
before, and it was quite as bitter an offence then, as now,
for a man to have a conscience for himself in party matters.
Something of that independence that we so highly esteemed
in the son, descended, doubtless, from the honorable inde
pendence of the father.
The mother many of us knew, as she lived to advanced
years, the centre of her household all her days, the object
of fondest affection from her daughters, of the deepest
devotion from her son. She was a decided character ;
intellectually very keen and bright, with a good deal of
humor "excellent company," even amid the infirmities of
In those early days of Walpole, when the young lawyer
settled there, it was a town of a little less than eighteen
hundred inhabitants, but was distinguished for the culture of
its people. In i/95, he found worthy competitors in his
profession ; for here, in this small village, there resided at
the same time with himself, the Hon. Jeremiah Mason, who
needs no words to recall his fame ; Joseph Dennie, well
known in the literature of the time, and Hon. Roger Vose,
distinguished as a wit, as well as a lawyer. The clergy
man of the town, the celebrated " Parson Fessenden,"
father of Thomas G. Fessenden, one of the most noted
poets of that clay, was himself a scholar, wit, and author.
In 1793, that great- printer and publisher, Isaiah Thomas,
established in Walpole, in partnership with David Carlisle
who had been his apprentice at Worcester, the "New
Hampshire Journal." This was subsequently changed in
name to the " Farmer s Weekly Museum," and Joseph
Dennie became the editor. Under his management, and
the contributions of that brilliant coterie of lawyers and
wits, the Farmer s Museum became widely known, and had
a large circulation through the whole country, from Maine
There must have been a brilliant society in that town,
when Francis Gardner, Senior, first went there to live. In
addition to these, there were five sons of Col. Benjamin
Bellows, the wealthy founder of the town, who lived there
on ample estates, with large houses, kept up with all the
comfort and hospitality of the olden time. I think we may
well say, in the words of a faithful son of Walpole,* that
" It was almost, if not quite, unequaled by any town of the
size in New England, in the cultivation of its inhabitants,
and the generous hospitality which they exercised towards
each other, and towards visitors from abroad."
In this town, Francis Gardner, Senior, built a house,
which is still one of the principal residences in the village.
It is one of those substantial square houses, with a slightly
slanting roof, that have such a look of spacious comfort, and
seem always in keeping with a country life. It is situated
near the brow of a bluff, and commands an extensive view
of the beautiful valley of the Connecticut, whose course can
* Mr. Thomas Bellows Peck, (H. C. 1863,) from whom these particulars of the early
society of Walpole and the description of its scenery were received.
be traced for several miles, towards the south, till the view
is closed by the apparent meeting of the New Hampshire
and Vermont hills in the distance. Directly opposite is the
town of Westminster, with its wide and fertile meadows,
from which rises gradually an extensive range of hills,
which may be considered the beginning, on the East, of
the Green Mountains. On the North, the view is closed by
the huge bulk of Fall Mountain, at the foot of which are
the well known Bellows Falls, and opposite, in Vermont, by
a range of hills. As you stand at the Gardner house, you
see on all these sides foliao-e-covered hills, encircling the
beautiful valley. Back of you is the pleasant village, and
rising beyond it, another range,- the Walpole hills, which
complete the enclosure. There can be few lovelier views in
New England. It was upon this scene, that the boy, whose
whole life was to be spent away from nature, gazed in his
He was, then, the child of distinguished and intellectual
parents, and back of him were three generations, * trained
in the best education of New England. His earliest home
was amid scenes of beauty, and his family had the benefit
of the brilliant and excellent society of this very remarkable
country town. All this must have had an influence upon
the child. When, however, he was but a few years of
* Rev. John Gardner, the father of Rev. Francis Gardner, was a graduate of Harvard
College, of the class of 1715.
his father moved to Keene, in search of wider practice, and
four or five years later to Boston.
In 1822, FRANCIS GARDNER entered the Latin School.
At that time, Benjamin A. Gould was Master, Jonathan
Greely Stevenson was Sub-master, and Mr. Leverett, the
editor of the Latin Dictionary, was an usher. In 1827, at
the age of fifteen, FRANCIS GARDNER entered Harvard
College, and was graduated with distinction in 1831.
Mr. Wendell Phillips, who was his classmate at* school
and college, says, that they met for the first time, and sat
next to each other, at the examination for admission to the
school, and that a close friendship then began, which lasted
through their lives. " He seemed," says Mr. Phillips, "a
rough, young giant, the tallest and strongest boy in the
class, with all the magnanimity of strength ; but the rough
ness was on the surface only. He was never coarse, never
ungentle, but in feeling, thought, and word was always
delicately refined, in the rudest play never a word spoken
that our sisters might not have heard. An unkind word
would at any time bring tears to his eyes ; any amount of
pain he would bear, like an Indian, unmoved ; but the
slightest disgrace, any sneer, made his eyes moisten. I
never knew him afraid of anybody or anything but disgrace.
He was from mere boyhood and all life long eminently a
just man, only claiming fair play, and more than willing to
allow it to others. I never knew the time, even in his
boyhood, when he did not detect or despise a sham ; that
seemed born in him. Perhaps it grew out of what seemed
a necessity of his nature, thoroughness. In play, in exer
cise, in study, in any little business, such as boys sometimes
have, he was always thorough, and he had no moods or fits.
Whatever could be done, was done at once."
Mr. Phillips says that he never was a general favorite,
either at school or in college ; that he lived an isolated life,
wrapped up in his pet studies, exercises, and odd habits,
and rarely sought companionship ; but that there were a
few who valued him highly and whom he valued. " He
never quarreled, never resented an affront, was tender as a
girl of any one s feelings or sufferings.
" His conscientiousness, the dominance of the idea of
duty, grew with his years. It marked his boyhood it
governed his maturer years. The seriousness of life itself,
that it was a terribly earnest thing, no frolic or make-shift
to pass time, this element showed itself when I first knew
" For an American, he was singular from the first, in
putting many things above money. To know and to do
was all his ambition."
At that time there was at the University a military corps,
and GARDNER was first non-commissioned officer. Mr.
Phillips says, that his character and the reputation in which
he was held, were markedly illustrated by his position and
the manner in which he fulfilled his duties. " He was
a sturdy, stubborn and despotic disciplinarian, as exact,
thorough, and painstaking as any drill corporal at West
Point. Though not a popular man, the whole class recog
nized at once, without debate, that he was the man for the
place, submitted to him and his exactions cheerfully, when
they would have rebelled at half as much despotism from
anybody else in that office. They knew that for him to be
thoroughly exact, was fate and irresistible."
He came forth from college at nineteen years of age,
already an earnest, resolute, healthy man, "pure, truthful,
just, honorable, kind, never bearing ill will, ever ready to
acknowledge and ever sincerely enjoying real merit and fail-
superiority to himself."
These are the words of his classmate, who knew him so
well from ten years of age.
These were the traits of character of the young man as
he entered on life.
In the autumn following his graduation, he was appoint
ed an usher in the Latin school. It was not, however, his
purpose to devote himself for life to teaching. He intended
to adopt his father s profession, and began the study of law
while engaged as a teacher in the school, reading in the
then famous office of Messrs. Rand and Fiske. But in the
early summer of 1835, his father died. His practice in New
Hampshire could not have been more than sufficient, with
the competition that he met, to provide comfortably for his
growing family, and he moved too late to Boston, to enter
as fully into lucrative business, as he doubtless would have
done in early life. He supported his family and educated
his five children, sending, as we have seen, his only son to
Harvard ; but when the summons came, he had but little
property to leave them. On his dying bed, he committed
to his son the care of his mother and sisters, and this
duty the son performed with the utmost filial and fraternal
fidelity. This change compelled him to abandon his own
personal aims and hopes. He made the surrender a
complete one, and, though another course in life might
have tended to his greater comfort, he never regretted
it. Indeed, with his devotion to duty, he could have
done no differently, and this audience, assembled here
to-night to do honor to his memory, bears witness, that
out of self-renunciation comes true honor the truest
And yet, Dr. GARDNER thoroughly enjoyed his work.
He once said : " I love my calling, and if I were not a
teacher, I think I should wish now to be a farmer. I want
constantly to see something growing."
He was appointed sub-master of the school in 1836, and
remained in that position until the summer of i85o. He
then accepted an appointment as private tutor of a young
man visiting Europe, but in the autumn of i85i was. elected
Head Master of the school, which office he retained until
his death nearly twenty-five years.
Some years ago his health began to fail. A final illness,
distressing and painful, after a few weeks, was ended by
death, on the tenth of January last.
This was the uneventful life of Dr. GARDNER : his daily
course in and out of the same house for more than thirty
years, at the same school for forty-three ; the regular hours,
till age began, at the gymnasium, and early in his life the
daily walk to Roxbury Neck ; the only relaxation, looking
in at the bookstores in search of something that he might
use in his work, and, at one period of his life, groping
among the piles of books at the Public Library a simple,
quiet life, that many men might pass, and pass with service
to their fellow men, and yet leave nothing distinctive in
But what was behind and under this? How did the man
shine out amid this simple round of regular duties ?
A real teacher is much more than a patient hearer of
lessons ; than a discriminating giver of tasks adapted to his
pupils minds ; than a careful student and wise imparter of
knowledge. A teacher, endowed by God for his task, is
first a God-created man. He is one whose manhood is
seen through all his work ; whose temperament is not
smothered nor concealed ; who, through all peculiarities, and
even throuo-h faults, comes into close contact with the minds
and the hearts of those over whom he is placed, so that they
are impressed and stimulated by the living presence of one
higher th-an they ; whose work is to be to them a guide, a
corrector, but above all, an inspirer ; whose whole being
is instinct with a devotion, with a life that is seen by them
and enters into theirs. He may work by methods and
upon carefully considered principles, but he is never an
educational machine. His powers may be enhanced by
thorough training ; his stores of knowledge enlarged by
patient study, but a teacher s results are after all not so
much from what he does, as from what he is the chief
factor at work is not his knowledge nor his skill, but beyond
all that the man himself.
And I am sure that all you who were fortunate in being
his pupils, however much you feel conscious of owing to his
instruction in the varied studies that you may have worked
at under him, yet would say, that as your eyes first fell
upon the notice of his death ; as you, perhaps, looked upon
him as he lay upon his bier, the thoughts that came rushing
to your mind, were not first of Latin or of Greek, but of
his character of his robust and independent soul.
It is then essential, in estimating the worth of Dr.
GARDNER as a teacher of the thousands who have gone
forth into life, to call up to our minds the recollection of the
manner of man he was.
I have already mentioned the change that was made in
all his plans and thoughts by his father s death, and of his
assuming the charge and support of his father s family.
Devoting himself, as he did, to them, consciously aban
doning all selfish aims, and feeling that he was to live for
them alone, it was not long before he grew into a higher
consecration still to service. Life seemed to him rightly
spent only as it was spent for use. The ordinary enjoy
ments of men, the social pleasures, absorption in the delights
of literature, all these he put forever away from him. He
was never seen at places of public amusement, never,
during the larger part of his life, at the table even of a
friend ; all invitations were declined ; not even the annual
dinner at Commencement found him present. But if a boy
had a question to ask, if a former pupil or even a stranger
sought instruction, all that he knew, and all his skill, were
given, without thought of time, and with absolute refusal to
A number of years ago, Mr. Seavey, the Head-master
of the Girls High School, came to Dr. GARDNER, with whom
he was always on terms of intimate friendship, and said that
there were some of the teachers of his school who wished
to study Latin thoroughly, and asked him to direct them
to some competent teacher. Dr. GARDNER pondered a
moment, and then told him that, on one condition, he would
teach them himself, and would devote to their service two
afternoons in each week. The condition was, that they
should not offer any pay nor give him any present. He
should be very glad to serve them, and the city through
them. They accepted his offer, and for two winters he
gave to their service two afternoons a week, and found it a
pleasure to teach such intelligent and earnest pupils. So
ready was he ever to labor for others, so wedded was he
Regular exercise he took far beyond the measure of
most men. It was necessary for health, but he denied
himself all mere pleasure, and in this he was most strict.
Nothing was more impressive in reference to his use of
time, than the limitations that he set in reading and in study.
Some years ago, I learned to my great surprise, that he had
never read one of Dickens s novels. Indeed, I never knew
of his reading fiction, so rigid was he in self-discipline, -
though he had diligently studied the English poets and
principal essayists, and prized them with a personal fond
ness. To sit in his beautiful library, and look around upon
its many cases stored with books, and then to see that it
consisted almost entirely of the classics, and all that would
best illustrate them, and of the most select of English
authors of highest imagination and highest thought ; to
know that out of all the number, no book was ever bought
merely that it might be read, but only as he believed that it
would be of value for frequent study or future reference ; to
hear him say, that he took no pleasure in reading anything,
aside from the hope that it might be of use to himself or
others ; to find that, even in his favorite departments of
study, the same inexorable law apparently ruled ; that he
did not concern himself much with speculations connected
with the classics or with ancient life, but confined himself in
all his studies mainly to his own direct work of a teacher of
boys, was to feel that his high idea of usefulness was carried
fully into all the relations of life ; that he sought abso
lutely nothing for himself except to spend and be spent
Yet, let me not give an impression that his range
of study was narrow. In Latin, he was a profound student.
He knew the language with rare exactness ; and it was
characteristic of him that, though he valued Greek far more
highly, and though nothing, perhaps, stirred him more
strongly to a sort of despairing indignation than the efforts
of some to strike out from the foundation of a liberal
education that language in which men have been trained
since the revival of letters, which is the hopeless model of
vigor, precision, and beauty of expression, as well as the
principal element in all modern thought, he yet gave more
study to Latin than to Greek. His work in teaching
language lay largely through the medium of Latin ; and
hence to Latin his best work was given. But no one could
hear him conduct a recitation in Homer, without seeing
how minute was his knowledge, and how careful had
been his study of Greek.
In his knowledge of French, the same trait was mani
fested. I do not think that he ever gave much time to
reading French literature, though he read French with
fluency. That would have seemed to him reading for
amusement ; but I have never met any one who had
studied the grammar of the language so extendedly and so
His knowledge of other foreign tongues was limited,
but he had studied both German and Italian sufficiently
for such uses as he had in view. No one could be
more modest than he about his attainments. No one had
more contempt for the common claim to a knowledge of
several languages. I was standing with him one day upon
his platform at school, when a boy came up and said, <% Mr.
GARDNER, will you tell me, please, how many languages
you know? " Mr. GARDNER replied : " I do not know that
any one can really be said absolutely to know any language,
but, allowing for the imperfection of the human faculties,
and for the impossibility of knowing all that makes up the
speech of an entire people, I have given so much time to
its study, have examined it in so many different ways, that
I think I may fairly be said to know one language, and that
is, the English." The boy looked amazed. " But," said he,
how many languages do you know, as other people say,
that they know languages ? " " Oh ! you mean how many
languages do I know something about. Why, four or five
And how well he knew the English language, in its
structure and form, its vocabulary and its pronunciation !
In literature he had studied it always in the best authors.
How frequent his criticism : "That word is not good
English ; you may find it in the newspaper or in a novel,
perhaps, but you will not find it in an author recognized
as standard." In pronunciation, he was careful to a degree
that we rarely find. In the shades of vowel sounds and in
the enunciation of diphthongs, he was quite as particular as
in accentuation. He used to complain with some bitterness
that both our great American dictionaries had spoiled the
sound of the English language.
His acquaintance with history was large, and in one
period,, that of the French Revolution, his knowledge was
exceedingly minute, descending to all incidents and all
characters. The way in which he gained this particular
knowledge was characteristic. Some one asked him the
meaning of an allusion in Carlyle s History of the French
Revolution. He did not understand it and undertook to
find it out. He searched libraries until he found the answer
to this inquiry ; but other questions meanwhile arose and he
continued, until he accumulated something like a thousand
pages of manuscript notes and seven volumes of engravings
and other prints illustrating the book and the period.
Sometimes a brief note cost him all his leisure hours for
weeks. This unique collection he was always ready to lend
to any reader. He made it, hoping that it would be of
service, and his pride of ownership was never suffered to
withhold it from any opportunity of use.
He eagerly read anything upon the subject of his pro
fession, particularly upon methods of teaching the languages.
He was often considered to be ultra-conservative in his
methods, but while he did take an attitude of decided
opposition to those whom he thought ignorant theorists
or pretentious charlatans in education, he was really by
nature an experimentalist, seeking to accomplish all that he
could for his pupils, and trying, although convinced that
there was no royal road to learning, to remove difficulties
wherever possible. He was always ready to welcome the
thoughts of any man of real experience or knowledge.
Thus it must be nearly twenty years ago, that he put into
my hands, and commended to my careful attention, that
very original and brilliant work of " Marcel on Language."
His knowledge was exact and always ready for use.
During the last twenty-five years of his life, he could hardly
be said to have read books he always studied subjects.
In this study he would exhaust book after book, sometimes
go from library to library, but he always had some precise
and definite end, and did not cease his investigation until he
had reached that end. The point upon which he started
might seem a small one, but he could not rest until he was
satisfied upon it.
It was singular to see how all his thoughts turned to
usefulness. He once said, " I often think that when I get
too old for service in the school, I should like to be a sort
of volunteer assistant in the Public Library, where my
knowledge upon some special subjects might be of use in
directing readers." In his last years he on one occasion
asked a friend : " If the school-committee should fail some
day to re-elect me, don t you think that I should be happier
in Italy than in this country without any especial object
to live for? After an affirmative response, he said, " I
think so, and if I should not be re-elected, I should not
care. I think that so far as mere happiness is concerned, I
could now be happier there than here. I should look upon
it as a release, but I shall not resign so long as I think
that I am able to do my work. I do not think that I
have any right to lay my armor down so long as I have
strength to wear it." It was in accordance, doubtless,
with this feeling, that at the beginning of his last sickness
he sent his resignation in his work was over. But the
school-committee, to their honor be it said, did not accept
his resignation, and so he died in office as master of the
school the first head-master to die while actually in the
service, since Ezekiel Cheever, who was appointed in 1671
and died in 1708, at the age of ninety-four.
Of his physical characteristics, I need hardly speak to
you who recollect so well that face and figure. Just six feet
in height, his weight one hundred and ninety pounds, all
bone and muscle, he was very active in all his movements
till his powers began to fail. How often have I thought,
as I have seen him running up that long, winding staircase
at the Latin School, generally two steps at a time, of Dr.
Arnold s saying, that when he could no longer run up the
library stairs, he should know that it was time for him to go.
How well do we remember when every night from five to
six he led as teacher in the general exercises in the old
gymnasium in Franklin Street, a nd how we afterwards
watched him admiringly on the parallel bars, and laughed,
perhaps, as we saw his skull cap fall on one side and his
spectacles on the other, as he turned in rapid somersaults,
supported by his arms as a pivot, over and over again.
How pleased were we to listen to the stories that some
older friend would tell of his prowess in still earlier days as
a boxer, and how that length of arm and prodigious
strength made him an antagonist with the gloves, dreaded
even by professionals.
That iron frame and those immense powers gave him
great capabilities for work, for he never used them to
fatigue. His exercise refreshed his mind and did not tire
his body. He was simply keeping- himself in best condition
for labor. No ordinary toil or care could weary him. He
must have been fifty years of age when he told me that so
far as fatigue was concerned, he never knew the day when
he could not, at its close, do the whole day s work right
over again ; and having this remark alluded to afterwards,
he said that he believed that it was literally true. He said
once that the only sense of weariness that he ever had from
teaching was that at times he felt as if a certain amount of
magnetism had been drained from him. Such a wonderful
man was he in his physical prime.
A man so earnest in his work and life, so full of power,
so firm in self-discipline, so strong of will as he, could not
have appeared in manner like other men. But some pecu
liarities of appearance and expression, and more particularly
an increasing sombreness of spirit, grew out of circumstances
of his life to which it is necessary to allude. He was so
weighted with the cares of his father s family, that he early
put away from himself the idea of marriage, and grew into
years, without adding other interests to his, without attach
ing to his life the dearest ties. But of intense strength in
domestic affection, he clung most closely to his mother and
his sisters. Strong man as he was, he burst into uncon
trollable tears at an illness of his mother a number of years
before her death. Of intense sensitiveness to all that was
calculated to touch the heart, he bore out for burial from his
house, subsequent to his father s death, no less than eight
members of his family brother-in-law, four sisters, nephew,
niece, and mother, until he was left the past seven years
But it was not only the deaths of these loved ones, this
succession of repeated blows, that wounded him to the
depths of his heart, and compelled him to sternest self-
control. In most of these cases, the death was preceded by
a long period of slow declining health, if not of actual
disease; so that some years ago he said, "I have seldom
for thirty years entered my house, without the thought that
I might immediately hear sad intelligence from some one
there sick." His home then was not one of gladness, but
almost continually was laden with an atmosphere of sadness,
was filled with sad memories and sadder forebodings. At
length the last tie was broken ; his whole household was
with the dead. There was no successor to any member
of his family, and he knew that he must henceforth live a
solitary life and die a lonely death.
His life was not like that of other men; it was filled with
pain to his deepest feelings. It is not strange that he seemed
to many an austere man. Only they who really knew him
could see the quivering heart underneath the rigid aspect,
and knew that he was nerving himself for duty, and saw that
the duty was always done, though we could only guess at
what cost to himself. In 1870 he wrote thus to a friend:
" We all have an instinctive dread of death ; but were
to-morrow s mail to carry to you the news that I had passed
away, I should wish you to understand that it was an event
I most wished. Don t think that I am gloomy, for I am not.
I simply have nothing to live for." And yet, another letter
of his, a year later, tells the secret of his continued labors,
gives a glimpse into the depths of his great heart, and
shows the spirit with which he bowed to these afflictions.
" If we accept the death of these loved ones in the right
spirit, the love which would have been concentrated upon
them will be more widely diffused, bringing a happiness,
desolate as the heart may be, infinitely superior to any
happiness springing from self-gratification in any form."
As a teacher, the qualities of the man found their full
exercise. Thorough and systematic in instruction, he trained
his pupils to good habits of study, to mental accuracy, and
solid foundations of learning.
He had a remarkable facility for illustrating subjects by
familiar objects and incidents. He was a marvel of patience
in giving explanations. When he felt that the class or the
individual boy was really seeking to understand a subject, he
would repeat and vary his efforts over and over again, until
the subject was made clear. These illustrations of his were
often homely and quaint ; his anecdotes were pointed and
odd ; and they gave so much of originality to his instruction
that boys were first interested and aroused by his manner
and methods, and then received with zest the knowledge
that he was trying to convey. He had especial skill with
the lower end of the class with those who had, perhaps,
been thought idlers or dunces through years of their school
course. Many of them were of just the manly disposition,
notwithstanding their own indifference to their studies, to
appreciate the intense out-spoken directness of Dr. GARDNER,
and began to work with new zeal ; while the skill of their
instructor, in explanation and illustration, made their work
more intelligible than ever before. The progress made by
the poorest scholars in his room was constantly a surprise.
Year after year, boys who had been looked upon as hope
less by other teachers, were enabled, at the close of the
year in his room, to enter Harvard very respectably. No
pains were ever too great for him to take with a pupil, and
he devoted afternoons, and holidays, and vacations with
most earnest zeal to the service of any who needed his
Some of his means of illustration were very ingenious.
He had a model of Caesar s bridge, made by himself, that
seemed much more simple to a boy than did the description
in the Latin. His bag of beans was often in use to illustrate
the principles of arithmetic. The black-board was constantly
made a means of instruction to convey by diagrams lessons
in morals, too, as well as geometry. He would startle a
class sometimes by the peculiarity of his illustrations. I
remember once that he drew a figure on his coat-sleeve
instead of the black-board. We remembered that, though
we might have forgotten it, if put upon the board probably
just what he intended.
He believed strongly in presenting to the eye the object
he desired to convey to the mind, by all means of pictorial
illustration. By his personal exertions, the Latin School
acquired probably the largest collection of pictorial and other
illustrations of Roman and Grecian topography and antiqui
ties possessed by any institution in the country ; comprising
paintings, rare and old engravings, models in cork, casts
from the antique, the best foreign mural maps and
plans, casts of medals, antique coins, specimens of marbles
from ancient ruins, and hundreds of photographs of Italian
and Athenian views and of statuary. But these were not
merely placed upon the walls, they were used by him in
the instruction of his classes, and no recitation was more
interesting to visitors from Europe as well as from this
country, than those in which the boys, after giving an
outline description of Rome or Athens, would proceed to
different parts of the room, pointing out the different locali
ties upon the maps and pictures, or giving from the models
details of the buildings. Their knowledge came directly
from hinv from no text-book save a brief manuscript of his
writing ; and one of his pupils told me that he found this
outline, learned in his school days, of more value to him in
Athens than all the guide books that he had. And yet,
Dr. GARDNER was never in Athens or Rome.
How well his pupils remember him in recitation ; the
short and quick questions, one leading to another ; the care
ful accuracy that he required in matters of etymology ; the
common-sense view that he took of matters of syntax.
How he used to go down to elementary principles, surpris
ing, perhaps, a class who had imagined themselves equal to
the exceptional cases of syntax, by a few questions that told
them that their knowledge of some of the parts of speech
was uncertain. I remember his coming into the room of
one of the younger classes holding up a knife. " What
part of speech is that ? " A few boys accustomed to look
for something out of the usual course in his questions, main
tained a prudent silence ; but almost all gave as answer, " A
noun." " No, it is not a part of speech at all its name is
a noun it is a knife." This merely illustrates his way of
probing frequently the knowledge of the boys in familiar
style, seeing if they really comprehended what they were
learning. The great object that he aimed at in his instruc
tions was that the boys in their classical work should learn
Latin and Greek, and not merely to translate certain selec
tions from the languages. Mere polish of work he valued
little in recitation in comparison with progress made. Under
his instruction the boys year after year gained accurate and
ready knowledge ; they carried away an idea of thorough
ness, a standard of comparison that must have been useful
in all pursuits of life.
But he was by no means confined by the topics of
the recitation. He was always willing to attend to, always
encouraged questions from the boys, unless they were
plainly idle ; and his pupils remember with admiration his
remarkable readiness on all the multiform questions raised
by school boy curiosity and ingenuity.
In the government of his school he required strict
obedience, unquestioning submission to authority, and re
spect in both words and manner. But he was not particular
about points of order regarded as essential by many. His
authority was so absolute, that he could allow a great deal
of freedom in the school-room. His own physical powers
were so vigorous, that he appeared to sympathize with the
restlessness of boys. He endeavored to secure their interest
in their studies, believing that then the ordinary forms of
school discipline could be dispensed with. There was
always in his room an impression of vigorous life. The
painful stillness of the House of Correction and of many
schools a stillness as of death, you did not find, but indi
cations of intelligent study and happy work.
He left a great deal to boys honor, but it was always
with his eyes wide open. If he found himself deceived,
there was, according to circumstances, a lash of contempt
applied with stinging words, or an expression of evidently
sincere sorrow and disappointment, either of which was
generally sufficient to prevent a repetition of the trans
There was always under his influence an unusually high
standard of truth among his pupils. He was so straight
forward himself, so free from any tricks or meanness, that he
made a very strong impression of the manliness of truth.
He was never more severe than upon falsehood, and upon
the usual methods of deception by which boys often disguise
or dodge the truth. He did not readily forget such offences
in a boy ; indeed, it is doubtful if he ever forgot them. But
while he would encourage a boy to make every effort to
redeem himself, he felt that if a boy had once erred in a
particular direction, he was likely ever after to sin again in
the same way. He had a remarkable faculty of detecting
the faults of boys, underneath the surface of ordinary
school propriety, and was inexorable in holding good boys
to a high standard of right feeling as well as of right action ;
and, possibly, he may have appeared more stern to their
slight offences, than to the more serious faults of boys who
made little effort to do right. In truth, he was educating
those who seemed more capable of it, to high moral princi
ples ; while in the case of those of lower character, he was sat
isfied with securing reasonable conformity to external duty.
Boys in the lower classes who did not come into close
contact with him, except when detected in serious faults,
were often afraid of him. But the boys in his own classes
were soon impressed by his patience in instruction, his entire
devotion to their interests, and his earnest maintaining of
an absolute standard of truth. The absence of unnecessary
restraint, his perfect impartiality and love of justice, his.
readiness to make full amends for any mistake in govern
ment, the air of manliness and independence that always
characterized him, his firmness that could be shaken by no
appliances of influence, his especial kindness to the poor-
to those who were laboring under difficulties led them
almost universally to respect, to admire, to venerate him.
His manner was unsympathetic, but they early learned that
they could trust implicitly to his real kindness of action and
life. There was nothing demonstrative about his regard for
them, but they felt that they could rely upon him for any
service they might need. As one of his pupils wrote a
number of years ago : " We soon learned that under Mr.
GARDNER S straightforward, blunt manner lay a genuine
affection for us and for his own vocation as teacher ; and
the curt phrase of censure came home without rankling,
because we knew it not only just and uttered in all kindness,
but based on a higher sense of duty and a more perfect
appreciation of right, than we could ourselves compre
He had a certain grim humor and an odd quaintness of
expression that were very effective in his dealing with the
boys, and often very amusing as they were repeated and
passed through the school. Conceit he was very apt to
pierce, and the few pupils who carried away from the school
any bitterness of feeling, were mainly those whom, after
the manner of Socrates, he chided for " thinking themselves
to be something when they were nothing."
But what was Dr. GARDNER as a Head Master, as well as
a teacher, in his relations to his assistants ? Doubtless he
was not always understood by those who were working
under him. Some, perhaps, thought him hard a man
who demanded a great deal of labor from them, and then
was not always satisfied with the best that they could do.
Habituated to hard toil and great expenditure of effort
himself, it may be that he did demand more than some with
the best will could perform. He never asked any to give
so much toil and energy to the school as he gave himself.
But it is true that he did insist on results, on success in
teaching. If the boys of a class did not make fair progress,
he was dissatisfied, no matter how patient or how scholarly
the teacher. He did not expect all things from any one,
but he did feel that the city paid sufficient salaries to secure
as teachers men who had fair power of control, reasonable
tact in government, and devotion to their duties. He did
not think it right that the time of a whole class of boys
should be wasted, that a teacher might have opportunity
gradually to work into fitness for the place, the duties of
which he was supposed, on his appointment, competent to
perform. He was too strong a man to allow his sympathy
for a teacher whom he thought unsuccessful to interfere with
his conviction of duty to his school.
But Dr. GARDNER never required any one to adopt ways
and methods of his. He allowed the largest liberty in this
respect, and only demanded that the classes should make the
desired progress. When under twenty-one years of age, I
was appointed an usher in the school. I had, of course, but
the slightest experience in teaching. I remember well the
morning when I presented myself before him for my in
structions. I never forgot his words ; I repeat them here
because I presume that he uttered them substantially to
others, and they seem to me to illustrate better than any of
my own, his relations to his assistants. After telling me that
the city had a right to expect good teaching, and that if a
teacher did not succeed, he must give way to some one who
could, he said, " I shall demand of you results, but you may
take your own methods of producing them. I shall not
complain of your methods if the right results come. I shall
always be glad to give you advice, but one thing more.
If you adopt your own course and methods, you may fail ;
if you try to copy mine, you certainly will. In teaching, no
6ne can copy another ; he must be himself. I do not under
value experience, of course, but after all, in a very high
sense, a teacher is born and not made."
He was then a strong, decided man, not only doing his
own work well, but insisting, so far as he had the power,
that others should do their work well also.
His authority in all general matters extended down
through the school, and it was an authority that was felt.
But teachers in their own rooms, so far as they did not
interfere with the general discipline of the school, were left
to adopt such measures and means as they found best,
unless the interference of the Head Master was required.
In any particular case where the teacher needed the especial
assistance of the master, Dr. GARDNER was ready with
advice or authority ; but if there was a radical lack of con
trol, he never undertook to govern a class for another. He
was sometimes blamed for not propping up the weak control
of a teacher ; but he firmly held the opinion, that if one
were really deficient in authority, he could not be supported
or materially helped by any one else.
But completely as he was identified with the school, his
heart beat in quick response to any call for sympathy in
public matters. How earnestly patriotic he was during the
war! How he endeavored to link the school to the move
ments in the field, and so carry to an ardent glow the
patriotic feelings of his pupils by the adoption of one
company, (whose captain was an old school-boy,) known as
the Latin School Company, to the comfort of whose men
the school constantly contributed, his pupils at that time
will well remember. And when the war was over, how
tenderly he honored the memory of those who fell, and
cherished the services of those who survived, is shown hy
the portraits in the school hall, by the marble tablets, and
by the beautiful statue that exhibits upon her shield the
names of our dead heroes.
And not only in our country s greatest need did he
reach out in service beyond his home and school, but in the
public fairs for great charities that have illustrated the gen
erosity of our city, it has been well known how actively he
gave his energies, how ready he was to assist his boys in
learning early to give their help.
Such then was our teacher ; eager for the improvement
and the character of his scholars ; devoted, with a devotion
that took no thought of self, to all their interests ; thorough
in his teaching and accurate in knowledge, apt at instruction,
enthusiastic in his work, conscientious and firm as an agent
of the city in directing others, and yet so liberal- that he
recognized the right of others to work in their own way, as
they were best fitted to work; energetic, impartial, un
affected, independent, sincere ; proud of his school, proud
of the city ; devoted with untiring loyalty to his country,
with a heart that beat in sympathy with the suffering every
The old School has many bright names upon its record.
We can count scholars from Cotton Mather down. In this
centennial year, we number five signers of the Declaration
of Independence, from our roll of boys ; orators whose fiery
words could summon a people to arms, or, if human words
could, assuage the passions of contending sections ; many
representatives of our government at foreign courts, judges
and chief justices of our own and other States, governors
and members of Congress in numbers, bishops and saintly
clergy, men of power to-day in all professions and callings
in life : but is there one among them all, from Governor
Leverett, who was a boy here in 1635, down to our own
time, who ever did more for the School, through the
impress upon his pupils, did more for this community, is
more deserving in this connection to be honored and
revered by us, than FRANCIS GARDNER ?
But in speaking of him as our teacher, we have not said
all that we think of, as we remember him to-night. As a
teacher he was great, but in ways that we can hardly
describe, in the bearing and look of the man, in the uncon
scious influence that he exerted, he gave such an expression of
genuine manhood, of honest and fearless independence, and
of undeviating honesty, with a hatred of shams and pre
tense, that his name is dear to us and his character dearly
prized. We think of him, after all, not so miich as our
teacher, as we do as a man whom it was good to know.
Just here we have, I think, an indication of how great
he really was. Number up the men who have left any name
as famous teachers, how few they are. But how fewer still
are they of whom you can think as anything else than
teachers. If they became great, it was, in part, because
they were really absorbed in their work. You could not
think of them ^as anything else. But with Dr. GARDNER,
great teacher as we know he was, we yet feel that his
manhood was large enough for any calling.
We can imagine him in the profession that he first
fancied. What might he not have attained as an advocate
at the bar, with his immense application, capacity for storing
knowledge ready for use, clear discernment of character,
great power of will, skill in elucidating facts, exact and
immense command of language and, in case of need,
withering sarcasm and humor that could scorch ?
Suppose him in public life. How independent would he
have been of all mere party ties or partizan action 1 How
he would have scorned the corruptions of the day, how true
he would have been to all our highest aspirations for our
country s life !
Again, what a soldier he would have made! How
strict a disciplinarian, and yet how faithful to his men ; how
ready would he have been for all emergencies ! How we
can imagine him leading a forlorn hope, with a courage that
could not falter !
We would not unduly extol his memory. He had his
faults, as others have ; but where, I appeal to you, his
pupils, do you find another man of such decision and
force, whose tenderness was so great, of such power of
will and such self-trust, who so systematically devoted him
self to service ; of such stores of knowledge and such skill
in controling others ; whose only ambition was usefulness ?
We feel grateful for his instruction as a teacher; we
look back upon his life devoted to the School with admira
tion ; we in some measure realize how noble and self-
denying a life he lived. FRANCIS GARDNER, our teacher, the
great Head Master of our time, has gone. And as we now
know how large a place he has filled in our recollections and
regards, we feel that to us without him the world will never
seem quite the same.
WE come to-night together
From the great world s stir and strife,
To pay the fitting trib ute
To a pure, devoted life ;
To sound a good man s praises ;
Of simple worth to tell,
And to fall a tear on the humble bier
Of one who lived so well.
Oh, whatsoever be man s fate
In this strange world of ours,
Tread he a pathway rough with thorns
Or strewn with smiling flowers ;
Tis the deepest wish of each human heart
That when life s toil is past,
The world may say, o er his coffined clay,
He was faithful to the last.
And with the truest meaning,
May those rare words be said
Of the stern, heroic, Christian man
We mourn to-night as dead.
A crown of thorns was the life reward
Of our dear old guide and friend,
But he bravely fought without a thought
Of himself to the bitter end.
Oh happy he whom fate allows
The cup of joy to drain ;
Oh happy he whose life is tuned
To fortune s sweet refrain !
For when the face of Heaven smiles,
For when the heart is light,
And no tears arise to dim the eyes,
It is easy to do right.
But think of him content to toil
Through all the weary years,
Renounce the wishes of his heart
And win his bread with tears
All silently for others sake
He worked by day, by night,
Until at length his rugged strength
In duty found delight.
And through the dull, the weary years
He kept his secret still ;
He knew not wealth, he knew no ease,
And all the world seemed chill
The few stars faded one by one
That cheered his humble sky,
Nor wife, nor child, beside him smiled
When the good man came to die.
E en as the oak, that long exposed
To lightning, wind and rain,
Uprooted falls before its time,
In ruin to the plain ;
He bore with fortitude the strokes
Of Providence, until,
O erwhelmed at last by blow and blast,
The steadfast heart grew still.
And so we leave unto his God
Our friend, whose rugged truth,
Instilled the seeds of manliness
Within our cherished youth.
Oh may our children ne er forget
With reverence to speak
Of the brave old man of iron,
Who taught their fathers Greek.
Above his grave the grass will grow,
And still the busy tide
Of life roll on, as if our friend
Had never lived and died.
There was a beauty in his years
Which never can depart ;
Well doeth he, whoe er he be,
Who takes it to his heart.
THE BOSTON LATIN SCHOOL ASSOCIATION most gratefully
recognizes the measureless debt which the School owes to the
generous, untiring and zealous devotion of the late Dr. FRANCIS
He brought to its service marvellous industry, almost unequalled
power to work, exact scholarship, and a conscientious thoroughness
in preparation for duty, rare among American scholars ; a talent
for teaching and love of it, which not only served the brilliant
and ready intellect, but won to study and lifted to success minds
upon which the most persevering efforts of others had been
wholly without result. His ingenuity in varying his explanations
and fertility of illustration,- joined to singular patience, generally
succeeded at last in rousing the most sluggard, interesting the
most indifferent, and reaching the comprehension of the dullest
He had the true master s power to win submission. Even
his boyish delight in athletic games, which made him join his
boys in all their sports on terms of frolic equality, never lessened
this power of control.
He let no pupil see he was a favorite. Neither brilliant gifts
nor social position tempted his scrupulous impartiality. If a
keen watch did ever detect any inclining of the scale, it was
toward some poor and friendless one to whom nature had not
been generous, and who was struggling for light and strength.
The Association owes its existence to him, and to his zeal and
effort the School itself owes a large share of the love and respect
it enjoys to-day.
He did not so much serve it as live for it ; had hardly any
life separate from the School, and died in the harness ; his vigorous
constitution and iron strength were worn out by a too generous
and unresting service, which was indeed the joy and delight of
Those who grew up under his "care recognize that he taught
them more than language, or science; since by his inspiration
life took a serious and earnest purpose, and by example as well
as precept he stirred them to be always thoroughly fit for any
duty they undertook. Though his method was one of strict
discipline and unquestioning submission to authority, it was
ennobled and justified by training boys to a hearty love of sound
learning, to the highest sense of honor and a perfect loyalty to
truth. No habit of deception, in word or deed, no toleration of
shams, could survive his discipline and example. Patient of labor
and never sparing himself, he demanded of his pupils diligent
efforts, but only to secure the full development of their own
Under a manner which some thought austere was a tenderness
almost womanly, which felt keenly even a cold word, and melted
in his harshest-seeming moments before the first appeal to his
heart. It is not for us to recall that domestic circle where, self-
denying and devoted, he bore, all his life, heavy responsibility
with tireless love.
During his long term of. office, nearly half a century, he neither
took nor needed recreation or leisure. To so wholly devoted and
disinterested a spirit, rest meant giving up his leisure hours to
some lagging or ill-prepared pupil, enjoining on him only the
condition that he should offer no pay nor any special thanks.
These rare gifts and this uncalculating sacrifice reaped all the
reward they asked, the love and respect of those who grew up
under them, and who look back to him not only as the great
Head Master, ranking with those of other lands whose names have
come down to us embalmed in the gratitude of ages, but as one
of the best friends of their happiest years, one to whom they owe
the finest inspiration and the best help those years had.
Though his rigorous devotion to his profession left him little
time for other matters, still his influence was always felt on the
right side, and his pupils were never mere scholars, but ready and
prepared at every call of citizenship or society.
The debt which sound learning, classical study and a true
education owe to his efforts is incalculable. But more valuable
still, here and now, is the inspiration of a life sacredly and modestly
devoted to constant usefulness, of a conscientiousness which
sought no public applause, gave no hour to gain, allowed none for
leisure, and repudiated even the cultivation of literature unless as
a means to help others ; this example is an invaluable contribution
to the educating forces of society and a noble spur both to teacher
No man in this generation has given himself more earnestly or
more disinterestedly to the service of the community, and few
have achieved greater success in such service.