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Full text of "Reminiscences of Amherst College : historical scientific, biographical and autobiographical: also, of other and wider life experiences. (With four plates and a geological map.)"

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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, 

In the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 

.1 B O ST<3 14: , . 

At the Annual Meeting of the Trustees of Amherst College, held July 7, 

Voted, That the Trustees receive with unaffected satisfaction the informa 
tion communicated by Rev. Dr. Hitchcock, that he has prepared copious 
Reminiscences relating to the history of this College, with which he has been 
so prominently and honorably connected from the organization of the Insti 
tution, and that we shall welcome its publication with deep interest and 
grateful pleasure. 

A true copy of the Record. 
Attest: L. BOLT WOOD, Secretary. 



I have now been connected with Amlierst College during the 
whole period of its legal existence, that is, ever since it obtained a 
Charter, which was thirty-eight years ago. It had, indeed, com 
menced operations four years earlier, and graduated fifty-three ; 
but, with perhaps one or two exceptions, I had become acquainted 
with them all, as well as with the officers. With the 1,520 who 
have since graduated, I have of course been acquainted, because I 
have given them all courses of lectures, and heard their recitations 
in the department assigned me. For I have never been prevented, 
in any year, from giving my assigned course of instruction, either 
by sickness or absence. I have also known personally, and as 
friends, every Instructor who has been connected with the College. 
I can say the same with respect to all the Trustees, and other per 
sons officially related to the Institution, and with most of the early 
and later benevolent individuals who have founded and sustained it. 
I have also been cognizant of, and shared in, all the seasons of 
prosperity through which it has passed, and during the season of 
its deepest pecuniary exigency and its subsequent relief, I was its 
responsible head. Professor Snell is the only man living who 
has been here as long, for he was appointed Tutor in 1825, and 
Professor in 1829. 

In view of these facts, the inquiry has often arisen in my mind, 
whether it might not be a useful service, and perhaps a duty, to put 
upon paper such reminiscences of Amherst College as seem to me 
worthy of preservation. For I am sure that I should be able to 
give many such, in relation to some of the interests of the College, 
that are unknown to others. Till recently, I have been prevented 
from such an effort, by several circumstances. One was the great 
pressure of other literary labors. Another was the knowledge, 
that the College had in manuscript, a history of the earlier periods 


of the Institution, by Noah Webster, Esq., and that, within a few- 
years, Dr. Humphrey had been appointed by the Trustees to prepare 
a regular history, and I feared that for me to bring out any thing 
on the same subject, unsolicited, might look like interference, and 
even presumption. But, having completed, in 1860, a very labo 
rious work, a Report on the Geology of Vermont, and having lei 
sure, I began to put down in my private journal, facts respecting 
the College, for the perusal of my children after my decease. But 
Providence, having given me more strength during the winter, to 
study, my notes have been so multiplied, that the question has 
arisen whether I should not offer them to the public while I live, if 
I am able to finish them. I have not seen Mr. Webster s or Dr. 
Humphrey s Histories, and know nothing about their contents. 
But I can hardly suppose there will be much interference between 
my Reminiscences and their Histories. I do not profess to give 
either a complete history or complete biographies, but only such 
facts as I happened to learn, or were connected with my own 
experience. Hence I have felt at liberty to state many facts which 
I should have not thought proper to introduce had I been writing 
a history under the direction of the Trustees, nor would it have 
been proper for me, in such a case, to have given my opinion as to 
measures, so freely as I have done. As I am alone responsible, I 
have felt at liberty to use greater freedom of speech. Even if 
many of the leading facts are the same in my Reminiscences as in 
their Histories, I hope my effort will not be regarded as useless, 
provided I have been able to add numerous facts known only to 
myself. It will probably need other volumes of Reminiscences 
before all the facts respecting Amherst College shall be brought 
out, which its friends will hereafter regard as worthy of preser 

If, on any points as to the founding and managing of a College, 
I have expressed opinions in which some of my colleagues of tho 
present Faculty do not agree with me, I trust no one- will imagine 
that I do not approve of the general policy, both of Trustees and 
Faculty. That policy is, indeed, essentially the same as has always 
been followed. But I have never known it more successfully car 
ried out than by the present Faculty, nor does it seem to me that 
Amherst College ever before had its various departments of instruc 
tion so ably filled as now. If, on a few unimportant points, I may 
have expressed different views from theirs, I cannot believe that 


any one will regard it as evidence of hostility, or a desire to find 
fault, or would wish me to withhold suggestions founded on nearly 
two-score years of observation. Or if I have shown too much zeal 
for those departments to which most of those years have been 
devoted, I shall hope that my life-long labors and sacrifices to 
make this branch of the College respectable, may plead my apology. 

I have now been for months on the bed of sickness, balancing 
between life and death. I have, therefore, just sent in to the 
Trustees, a resignation of my connection with Amherst College, to 
take effect at Commencement, July 9th, at the close of iny 38th 
collegiate year. The chief remaining objection to the publication 
of this work viz. : my connection with College, seems to me 
therefore to be taken out of the way, for although the Trustees 
did not accept my resignation, I have in fact ceased to have any 
connection with the operations of the College. 

I trust this book will be found to possess an interest extending 
beyond the affairs and particular friends of Amherst College, for 
it contains a large amount of facts, anecdotes and principles, drawn 
from almost every portion of my life, and almost all parts of the 
world, as I have intimated on the title-page. The friends of the 
College are indeed very numerous and wide spread, but I trust that 
general readers will find enough here to repay their attention and 
perusal. The publishers are of opinion that my portrait, prefixed 
to the work, would add to its interest with very many. I cannot 
agree with them in this opinion, and had set myself resolutely 
against any thing of the kind, but I yield the point with as good a 
grace as I can. 

God bless Amherst College, now and in all coming time, with 
all connected with it, and all its graduates. 


SEPT. 1, 1863. 
















When I began to put down the following Reminiscences 
of Amherst College as a matter of private reference, I had 
no definite plan of arrangement in my mind, expecting, indeed, 
that they would be brief and desultory. But as they grew 
under my hand they have fallen naturally under the following 
heads or sections : 

I. Biographical Notices. 
II. Statistical History. 

III. History of the Cabinets, Laboratory and Library. 
IV. Financial History. 
V. History of Temperance in the College. 
VI. Religious History. 
VII. Scenery and Geology. 
VIII. Personal History. 

The names of the individuals referred to under the first 
head, will mostly, though not exclusively, be found upon the 
Triennial Catalogue. 


Dr. Moore, the first President, stands at the head. He 
had been called in 1815 from the professorship of languages, 
in Dartmouth College, to the presidency of Williams College, 


and he accepted it with the understanding that said college 
should be removed to some other part of the Commonwealth. 
He gave his views on that subject in his Inaugural Address, 
which (probably for that reason) was never published. As a 
majority of the trustees were opposed to its removal, the 
subject was allowed to rest for three years, long enough to 
convince both parties that they were right. Accordingly, 
when the trustees of Amherst Academy presented a memorial 
to those of Williams College, an active controversy com 
menced, in which Dr. Moore took as decided a part as was 
proper for him in favor of removal. The effort failed, and 
a new College was started at Amherst, which invited 
Dr. Moore to its presidency. lie accepted, and about half 
of the students at Williams followed him. It must have 
required a good deal of moral courage and strong faith to 
induce him to take the lead of so gigantic an enterprise, 
environed with so many difficulties, and opposed by so many 
enemies. But he was the right man to start the new College 
honorably and successfully. His career was short, and 
probably his constitution was shattered by the agitations and 
perils through which he passed, so that it yielded to a slight 
attack of disease. But he was not to be taken unawares, and 
before his sickness had devoted his property to the same 
object for which the College was founded, viz. : the education 
of pious indigent young men. His venerable widow survived 
him thirty-eight years ; and though she had full liberty by his 
will to use the principal of the $4,000 left to the College, if 
necessary to her comfort, yet so scrupulously anxious was she 
that its amount should not be diminished, and that her hus 
band s wishes should be fully carried out, that at her decease 
it had increased, I believe, to not less than $7,000. Her 
memory, like that of her husband, is a fragrant one at 
Amherst, and we are all ready to say, Give her of the fruit 
of her hands ; and let her own works praise her in the gates. 


Rev. Joshua Crosby was a quiet, devoted pastor in the 
town of Enfield, and in him the new enterprise found a cor 
dial sympathizer. He could not bring splendid talents or 
wealth, or a wide influence to aid in it. But he could give it 
his fervent prayers, his unremitted attention, and its advocacy 
in the sphere which he occupied, and these were just the 
things most needed in its earlier stages. For seventeen 
years did he stand by the institution in every exigency, until 
he was called to a higher sphere of duty in another world. 


The Rev. James Taylor, of Sunderland, was a man of 
similar character, and proved alike faithful. He could always 
be depended on, and was never absent from the meetings of 
the trustees because difficulties and discouragement hedged 
up their path. He lived only eleven years after the organi 
zation of the College. But he did not die till he had seen his 
prayers answered by an influx of more than two hundred 
students, giving an earnest of permanence and wide usefulness. 


In Mr. Taylor s parish was a layman of unusual excellence 
of religious character, who entered with all his heart into the 
new enterprise, as did also his excellent wife, and as they 
were possessed of more property than the clerical members 
of the Board, his benefactions were frequent and liberal at a 
time when money had an almost priceless value. This gentle 
man was Nathaniel Smith, Esq., who passed away in the 
same year with his beloved pastor, and whose character was 
happily delineated by Dr. Humphrey, in a published sermon, 
entitled " The Good Arimathean." Without the benefactions 
of Nathaniel Smith, it is doubtful whether Amherst College 
could have been carried through its early conflicts. Still 
more important was it that his gifts were sanctified by the 
fervent, effectual prayers of himself and consort. 



Another layman who had much to do with the starting 
of this College was Col. Rufus Graves, then a resident 
of Amherst. He was a man of peculiar characteristics, 
rather sluggish and indolent in his movements, yet, under the 
control of ardent piety easily affected himself, and therefore 
strongly affecting others. In this enterprise he was a perfect 
enthusiast, and went into it with all the zeal and perseverance 
of Peter the Hermit. Whenever he could get a chance to 
address a group, large or small, he would pour out his whole 
heart, and his tears, too, as I have witnessed, and though 
rather clumsy and rude in speech, he would deeply enlist the 
sympathies of his audience. No one could hear him who did 
not see that he was most thoroughly convinced of what he 
said, and of the immense importance of the enterprise for the 
good of the world ; also, that he had prayed over it till he 
felt assured God was on his side, and neither reasoning nor 
ridicule could shake his faith. 

And here let me say that the leading characteristic of the 
principal advocates of this enterprise was this same deep 
religious conviction that it was God s work and for God s 
glory, and therefore they might hope for success. They were 
not actuated by the desire of distinction, but by the love 
of Christ and the hope of the spiritual good of the world. 
It was the same spirit that actuated the Apostles and early 
martyrs, and in modern times, the Pilgrims, in their exodus 
to this country. In short, it was the most powerful principle 
that ever moves the human soul. And it needed just such 
men, whom no obstacles could discourage, nor worldly ridicule 
divert. It did not demand men of eminent talents or station, 
but those of eminent piety. And because it had such, the 
work was successful. 

According to Dr. Humphrey the Constitution and system 
of By-Laws adopted by the Trustees of Amherst Academy 
in 1818, for raising $50,000, as the basis of the new College, 
" was drawn up with care and legal advisement by Col. Rufus 


Graves." The Preamble to that Constitution breathes a spirit 
as decidedly missionary as the New Testament itself, and its 
authorship might well be coveted: for it fixed the religious 
character of the institution and stands as a powerful warning 
against apostacy and the diversion of funds to other objects. 

Col. Graves gave considerable attention to some branches 
of science, especially chemistry, and formerly lectured on that 
subject in Dartmouth College as well as in Amherst Academy. 
He did the same also, for a time, in the new College, before 
the appointment of a professor. He lived to a venerable old 
age, and his last years were spent in Ohio. 


Another early and indefatigable laborer in this enterprise 
was Hon. Samuel F. Dickinson, of Amherst. He stood high 
as a lawyer and his advice was often needed by his clerical 
co-laborers. He was one of the most industrious and perse 
vering men that I ever saw. He was very much employed 
in the settlement of estates and labored day and night in his 
profession. He was also a man of very decided religious 
principles, and when once satisfied that he was in the path 
of duty, his face was as a flint, and he reminded one of the 
early Puritans. After he had seen the College firmly estab 
lished, he went West and became connected in some capacity 
with the secular affairs of Lane Seminary, at Cincinnati, 
where he died at the age of sixty-two. 

From all that I can learn, I have no doubt that Samuel F. 
Dickinson and Col. Graves had more to do in forming and 
executing plans for the founding of Amherst College than any 
other men. They, I belive, first conceived and labored hard 
to execute the plan of endowing a professorship in Amherst 
Academy for preparing ministers and missionaries. And 
when they found that they could not succeed in this, instead 
of abandoning the whole matter, they enlarged their plans 
and undertook to found a new college with the same object in 
view, rightly judging that their first plan was too narrow to 


meet the feelings of Christian benevolence. All these plans 
were discussed over and over again by these two gentlemen. 
Col. Graves was ardent and impulsive, and thought to be 
visionary, so that it needed the cooler and more practical 
judgment of Mr. Dickinson to prevent extravagance in 
opinion and give confidence to the public. Mr. Dickinson 
was so full of business that he could not go abroad much to 
present the claims of the proposed institution, but Col. Graves 
had leisure enough and needed only to be guided by his friend s 
wise counsels. 

Several other laymen, who were among the early friends 
and patrons of the college, most of them from its very incep 
tion, may as well be mentioned here. Having but little 
acquaintance with Dr. Rufus Cowles, I cannot say much of his 
particular efforts; but as a respectable inhabitant of Amherst, I 
do not doubt he did all he could to aid in the work. With 
Deacon Elisha Billings, of Conway, I was quite intimately 
acquainted, and know how well adapted he was to be an 
efficient pioneer. He had received a public education and 
possessed superior abilities. He had also a remarkably 
accurate knowledge of men. But his clear views of religious 
doctrines and inflexible adherence to the faith of the Puritans, 
made him the steadfast friend of every effort to connect 
learning and religion and to raise up men qualified to defend 
and propagate the Gospel of Christ. His support of the new 
institution was no halting, lukewarm advocacy. He had not 
abundant means, but did what he could as to pecuniary aid. 
Yet rarely was his seat vacant at the meetings of the Board, 
and his fervent prayers and wise and encouraging counsels 
were most efficient elements of final success. Though in 
moderate circumstances as to property, yet so liberal were his 
benefactions as exceedingly to embarrass his widow and 
children. But they, too, endowed with the same spirit, 
struggled through their pecuniary embarrassments. His wife, 


indeed, who long survived her husband, was an extraordinary 
example of eminent piety and devotion to benevolent objects, 
conjoined with extreme humility. When the effort was being 
made to raise $50,000 to start the College, she circulated the 
life of Franke so widely that the copy was worn out. She 
believed, and so did all the men and women who founded 
Amherst College, that the principles adopted and acted upon 
by Franke as to trust in God and the power of prayer, to be 
scriptural, and such essentially let it be always remembered, 
were the principles on which Amherst College was founded. 
The type of the piety of its originators was that of Spener 
and Franke in earlier times, and of Muller in our own times. 
God save the institution from ever coming to regard such 
faith and prayer as dangerous enthusiasm ! I do not mean 
that the founders of Amherst College would endorse all the 
views of Franke or Muller. But their doctrine as to the 
safety of trusting in God in every exigency and of specific 
answers to special prayer in respect to things temporal as well 
as spiritual, was most firmly believed and acted upon in this 
work. Again and again would they have given it over in 
despair if they had not felt sure that God would appear for 
them if their faith failed not. Hence, when they had no 
funds, they were more importunate in prayer and would not 
let God go without the blessing. Does not the result show 
that they stood upon safe ground ? During many of the early 
years of this institution, the enterprise, judged of by merely 
secular sagacity and wisdom, would seem certain to fail, and 
its failure was confidently predicted by many a wise and many 
a good man who had not the faith of its founders. 


Hon. John Leland, the Treasurer of the College for the first 
fourteen years of its legal existence, came to reside in Amherst 
about the time when the first efforts were made for its endow 
ment, and was a liberal donor. And ever afterwards, when 
the College was passing through exigencies, his benefactions 


were not wanting. His piety was of that stamp which appre 
ciated the need and the value of the movement. But it was 
as Treasurer during the most trying pecuniary days of the new 
institution that his greatest sacrifices were made. Funds 
must in some way or other be obtained, and the trustees could 
see no way but to resort to borrowing. Yet they had nothing 
to offer as security to the lender. It became necessary, there 
fore, for individuals to become personally responsible. Others 
sometimes came to his aid ; but I am assured that during 
most of his term of office he was holden to creditors for college 
debts to an amount sometimes nearly equal to his whole 
property. This is a reponsibility which not many men have 
benevolence enough to assume, especially with a large and 
perhaps invalid family dependent upon them. I have often 
thought that this great service the College has but poorly 
appreciated. Yet Deacon Leland has nevertheless ever con 
tinued the friend and helper of the institution. It was but 
yesterday (November 28th, 1861,) that I found him in his 
sick chamber, sustained in the prospect of dissolution and 
amid severe pain, by those great principles for which he has 
made many sacrifices during a long life. Blessed Saviour, I 
know that Thou wilt not forsake him as he goes into the dark 

At a date almost two years later, I am happy to say, that 
Deacon Leland recovered from his sickness, and though very 
old and feeble, I trust God has something more for him to 
do on earth before He calls him to the work of a higher 

Hon. Edward Dickinson succeeded Deacon Leland as 
Treasurer, in 1835, and has occupied the place ever since 
with great fidelity and success. He is the son of Hon. S. F. 
Dickinson, already described, and has not proved recreant to 
the spirit of his father. He has been with the institution in 
many of its darkest hours, and lived to bring its financial 


concerns triumphantly out of their embarrassments, and he 
will need only the co-operation of his colleagues to keep them 
upon high vantage ground. The confidence placed in Mr. 
Dickinson by the public has been manifest by the numerous 
eminent political offices to which he has been called. He is 
still in the full vigor of mature life. 


Lucius Boltwood, Esq., was appointed Financier, or as it is 
now called, Commissioner of the Charity Fund, in 1834, and 
Scribe of the Trustees, in 1828, and has filled both offices ever 
since. He has been familiar with all those even from the 
beginning who have taken an active part in starting and 
building up the institution, having been a law student in Hon. 
S. F. Dickinson s office when the first efforts were made and 
the first discussions carried on in that office concerning it. 
All the financial matters in his department he has managed 
with much skill, and often lent the Treasurer his credit when 
needful to borrow money. His object by these sacrifices has 
not been to gain reputation, but to sustain and carry forward 
the College towards which he has done much. To him as 
well as to Mr. Dickinson, I am indebted for many of the 
statistical and financial facts detailed in the following pages, 
and which were fast passing into oblivion. 


An individual deserves notice here who never had any 
official connection with the College, but was a native of 
Amherst, and one of the most efficient instruments of its 
establishment, I refer to Rev. Austin Dickinson. His plan 
through life was to influence men without letting them know 
that he was acting on them at all. He was a man of superior 
abilities, a graduate of Dartmouth, and an eloquent and 
effective preacher. But he was never a settled pastor. He 
felt his mission to be rather to start and bring into operation 
new plans for doing good; and though some of his plans 


appeared bold and quixotic, he had great skill in bringing 
them about. With his vigorous pen he struck many a heavy 
blow in favor of Amherst College, himself quite out of sight. 
While in Tennessee, he undertook and succeeded beyond all 
expectations in raising funds to endow Maryville College. 
On his way back he started in Richmond the first religious 
paper in the southern States, "The Family Visitor," for 
which he obtained several thousand subscribers, and which 
was subsequently united with " The Christian Observer." In 
1826, he started "The National Preacher," in New York, 
which has been continued ever since. His last and perhaps 
most important enterprise was to get the secular newspapers 
to introduce religious intelligence into their columns, which 
is now so universal. 


With Col. Israel E. Trask, of Springfield, I had not much 
personal acquaintance. I recolect him chiefly as a gentleman 
of fine personal appearance, and we know that he was a 
liberal subscriber to the fifty thousand dollars fund. What 
other special efforts he made to promote the object I know 


I should make similar remarks in relation to another Spring 
field gentleman numbered among the earliest Trustees, viz. : 
Hon. John Hooker. Maintaining an honorable position in 
the legal profession and on the bench, the sanction of his 
name and influence to the new enterprise must have been 
highly important and beneficial. How much money he con 
tributed to it I have not ascertained ; but he took a deep 
interest in the plan, and doubtless did what he could to 
promote it. 


The name of S. V. S. Wilder, Esq., of New York, does not 
appear on the list of Trustees till 1824. Nevertheless he 


took an active part in the enterprise before a charter was 
obtained. And when a committee of the Legislature appeared 
in Amherst to look into the affairs of the proposed Collegiate 
Institute, and its enemies attempted to show that the subscrip 
tion was good for nothing, Mr. Wilder rendered great service 
by cashing note after note which were brought forward as 
worthless. He was also a liberal subscriber to the funds of 
the College. He had been a silk merchant in Paris, and 
while there had done much to promote the cause of evangelical 
religion. He was a principal means of starting the first 
French Bible Society, and was associated with Baron Cuvier 
and others as its Directors. When he returned to this country 
he made special efforts to build up Orthodox churches in 
regions where Unitarianism had well nigh obliterated vital 
godliness. He felt therefore a deep interest in the effort to 
found an institution which should be decidedly religious in its 
character, and yet whose standard of scholarship should be so 
high as to command the respect of all. Mr. Wilder was 
afterwards unfortunate in his pecuniary affairs and resigned 
his place on the Board and rarely afterwards visited Amherst, 
though he still lives, because, as he told me, he could not now 
do as he once did before the committee of the Legislature ; 
that is, he could not contribute to supply the wants of the 


Noah Webster, Esq., was living in Amherst at the time the 
college enterprise was started by the Trustees of the Acad 
emy. For a time he was President of that Board, and he 
sympathized with the movement as his Address at the laying 
of the corner-stone of the first edifice shows. Although Mr. 
Webster s literary reputation was not then as high as after 
wards, his advocacy of the new plan no doubt tended to render 
it respectable among literary men. How much he aided the 
work pecuniarily I do not know; but presume he did not 


refuse to patronize with his purse what he recommended with 
his pen and his influence. 

Hon. William B. Calhoun has now been a member of the 
Board of College Trustees for thirty-four years, longer than 
any one except Dr. Yaill. And all that time he has been a 
most consistent and efficient friend of the institution. His 
high standing as a scholar and in political and social life has 
given great influence to his judgment and opinion, and he has 
ever stood by the College in all its exigencies. It has passed 
through some of the most trying of these during his connection 
with it ; yet his friendship and influence could always be 
relied upon in the darkest hour, and though Providence had 
not put abundant pecuniary resources into his hands, his influ 
ence has opened the purses of others more highly favored in 
this respect. In short, Amherst College has no one on its list 
of patrons and friends who has been more judicious in council, 
or shown more consistency in friendship, than William B. 


Another name stands on the list of Trustees from 1834 to 
1854, to which the College is most deeply indebted. I mean 
that of John Tappan, Esq. How early he enlisted in its service 
I cannot say ; but during those twenty years, and many of them 
were years of great trial, his aid was invaluable. For he is 
one of those men who do more than they say. It was not his 
ambition to give a large sum at one time and let that answer 
for the whole. But he watched his opportunities, and when 
he saw chances offering for giving a start to important enter 
prises he took care to give them such a headway by his sub 
scriptions as to ensure a like liberality from others, and thus 
secure their success. In this way I am sure that three 
important enterprises were made successful by his benefac 
tions and counsel : one in relation to the cause of Temperance ; 


another in regard to the Library, and a third in Ichnology. 
The details in regard to these efforts I hope to give when I 
come to my own personal connection with the College. But 
these were only a part of the occasions when Mr. Tappan s 
liberality towards the College was displayed. 


Dr. Ebenezer Alden, of Randolph, has now been for twenty- 
one years one of our most efficient, judicious and valuable 
Trustees. His extensive knowledge of educational institu 
tions and official connection with so many of a benevolent 
character, and his high standing as a physician, have made 
his services peculiarly valuable. Nor has his aid been parox 
ysmal and inconstant. No man has been more punctual at 
all meetings, or stood more firm in all exigencies than he. 
He was a member of the Board during that period of deep 
declension, which reached its lowest point in 1845, and he did 
much to get the ship off from the breakers into the open sea. 
His confidence in the College was shown in the fact that he 
carried two sons through it who have been men of great 
usefulness as ministers. 


Of an analogous character have been the services of Henry 
Edwards, Esq., of Boston, who became a Trustee in 1844. 
Familiar with the details of business as a merchant, and 
extensively acquainted with men of wealth and benevolence, 
and by his mild and amiable manners adapted to win their 
confidence, and being always ready to speak a good word for 
the College, his aid has been invaluable. May he live many 
years to help advance the interests of the institution. 


Hon. Linus Child is another layman, who resigned his 
place five years ago, but is still alive, and for twelve years 
was a wise and trusty counsellor and advocate of the College. 
He was ever prompt to attend the meetings of the Board, and 


to second efforts in tho intervals between the meetings for 
obtaining funds, and for other purposes, and as he came into 
the Board in its darkest day, he had abundant opportunity to 
show his fidelity to a cause which was then unpopular. 


In the same class I place Alpheus Hardy, Esq., of Boston. 
Though he has been a Trustee only since 1855, so valuable 
and efficient have been his services that we cannot but hope 
that his connection with the College may be long continued. 
One special service which he has performed, is the establish 
ment of three annual prizes for improvement in extempora 
neous speaking. 


I shall not go into detail in respect to those younger lay 
members of the Board who were our graduates, for they have 
mostly been elected since I left the presidency, and I am 
not familiar with particular services which they may have 
rendered. I only know that the prestige of the names and 
influence of gentlemen so distinguished as they have been on 
the bench, and in social and political life, has been very valu 
able, and that they have been prompt to render any private 
services to the College which have been asked. Judge J. C. 
PERKINS, of Salem, has been a Trustee since 1850 ; Hon. 
A. H. BULLOCK, of Worcester, since 1852 ; Judge HENRY 
MORRIS, of Springfield, since 1854 ; Dr. NATHAN ALLEN, of 
Lowell, since 1857, and Hon. E. B. GILLETT, of Westfield, 
since 1861. I ought to add that Dr. Allen and Dr. Alden 
have been indefatigable in their efforts to shape the plans and 
advance the interests of the new department of Hygiene and 
Physical Culture. 

Of several other distinguished laymen whose names appear 
on the Triennial Catalogue as Trustees, I have not much to 
say, because I know but little. I do know, however, that 
Hon. WILLIAM B. BANISTER, who was fourteen years a 


member, was a most faithful and constant coadjutor, and that 
he did much to sustain the institution, by his prayers, his 
influence and his benefactions. The same may be said of 
Lieutenant-Governor ARMSTRONG, who was a member sixteen 
years, and remembered the institution liberally in his will. 
Hon. SAMUEL C. ALLEN was a Unitarian of the Socinian 
school, one of the few gentlemen of that denomination who 
have been on theBoard. But being a man of enlarged views, 
he cordially and efficiently sustained the institution for- sixteen 
years without any attempt to counteract Orthodox views. 
Hon. DAVID MACK was a citizen of Amherst, and a Trustee 
from 1836 to 1854. He was a man of great decision of char 
acter and a devoted Christian, and liberal in his benefactions. 
He was a member of the Board s Prudential Committee for 
many years, and never shrunk from any duty he could perform 
or pecuniary sacrifice he could make. Hon. GEORGE 
GRENNELL was a Trustee twenty-one years, from 1838 to 
1859, and though often prevented by business from being 
present at the meetings of the Board, the College ever found 
in him a cordial friend, and its object, as we might pre 
sume from his religious character, was ever dear to him. 
From 1838 to 1852 Hon. ALFRED D. FOSTER was an active 
member of the Board, and a judicious counsellor. He did 
not resign his place during the season of the College s deep 
est depression, though his faith nearly gave out. His nice 
sense of propriety is seen in another fact. Though he had 
carried a protege (Prof. March) through Amherst College, who 
proved to be one of its brightest ornaments, yet because his 
own son graduated at another institution, so nice was his 
sense of propriety that lie resigned his place on the Board. 
But they would not accept his resignation. 

His Honor Lieutenant-Governor WILLIAM GRAY was a 
member of the Board one year, from 1825 to 182G; His 
Excellency LEVI LINCOLN from 1828 to 1829 ; Hon. SAMUEL 
HOWE from 182 G to 1828 ; Hon. ELIPHALET WILLIAMS from 
1829 to 1830; Hon. SAMUEL LATIIROP from 1829 to 1834; 


Hon. JONATHAN LEAVITT from 1825 to 1829 ; Hon. LEWIS 
STRONG from 1825 to 1833 ; Hon. JAMES FOWLER from 1826 
to 1838; and His Excellency MARCUS MORTON from 1825 to 
1837. These gentlemen were all friendly to the College and 
the prestige of their names was no doubt serviceable to it. 
But I am unable to state particular acts of theirs in its 
behalf. The three first named, as well as Mr. Fowler, I 
believe, were Unitarians, but this fact did not seem to make 
their support of the College less cordial. Governor Morton, 
either from pressure of business or inattention, neglected for 
more than three years to attend the annual meeting of the 
Board, and therefore, at the end of his twelfth year, by a rule 
of that body, his membership ceased. 

The Charter of the College was granted in 1825, in 
February. By that instrument the first five vacancies in a 
Board of seventeen Trustees were "to be filled and their 
places ever after supplied by the General Court in joint ballot 
of both Houses." The following is a list up to 1861, of the 
members who have been thus elected: His Honor Lieu 
tenant-Governor Gray, Hon. Elihu Lyman, Hon. Samuel O. 
Allen, Hon. James Fowler, Hon. Samuel Howe, His 
Excellency Levi Lincoln, Hon. William B. Calhoun, Hon. 
Samuel Lathrop, Hon. George Grennell, Hon. Linus Child, 
Hon. Samuel Williston, Hon. Jonathan C. Perkins, Hon. 
Edward B. Gillett, Dr. Nathan Allen. 

Thus far the Legislature have been ready to elect such 
candidates as the friends of the College proposed, and without 
exception, these gentlemen have been cordial and efficient 
friends of the institution. 


I have omitted one name of a layman from the list 
of Trustees, which, though first introduced in 1842, will in 
all future histories of the College head the list of its benefac 
tors. I mean that of Hon. Samuel Williston. He was not 
old enough nor wealthy enough, when the College was started, 


to aid in laying its foundations. But Providence reserved 
him for the time when he was needed to save the institution 
from sinking under its embarrassments, and then gave him 
the disposition to come to the rescue. How he was led to do 
this, it will be more convenient to describe in another connec 
tion. I shall here give only a few facts of his early history 
and the mode in which he acquired the means for his princely 
contributions to the cause of education. 

Mr. Williston was the son of Rev. S. Payson Williston, 
of East Hampton. As he grew up, it was his purpose to 
obtain a public education. But in the course of preparation, 
his eyes failed him and he devoted himself for a time to 
teaching, thus acquiring a deep interest in educational insti 
tutions. But he was not able to resume his studies, and 
with sadness turned to other pursuits to obtain a living. 
Little did he imagine what a field of usefulness Providence 
was opening before him. His wife, as a means of procuring 
a little money for some benevolent object, commenced the 
covering of buttons. The enterprise succeeded so well that 
it was repeated, and at length Mr. Williston went into it 
more and more, as he found the demand increasing. And 
this was the principal means, though afterwards kindred 
manufactures were added, by which he gained so much 
property as to pass in the country for a millionaire. But it 
needed Divine Grace to dispose him to turn his funds into the 
educational channel, though not to the neglect of objects more 
strictly religious. Yet, in all his efforts to found and sustain 
seminaries of learning, the chief motive was the bearing they 
would have upon religion. This was the object mainly 
of founding Williston Seminary in his native place, to which 
he has already given certainly not less than $85,000 or 
$90,000. The results have already been highly gratifying, 
not merely in the education of so many of our youth for 
important posts in life, but in the conversion of so many 
during their academic course, and thus giving a right direc 
tion to their acquisitions. 


What Mr. Williston has done for Amherst College, I have 
already in part described, in my valedictory address, when 
leaving the presidency. But I propose to go still more into 
the details in a subsequent part of these Reminiscences. The 
aggregate of his efforts for education, in connection with 
religion, is a grand picture of Christian benevolence. One 
would think that the retrospect in his old age as well as that 
of his noble wife, who still survives, must be highly gratifying. 
May they long live to do much more in this great work befpre 
they are called to higher rewards ! 

I do not suppose that the hope of acquiring a worldly repu 
tation, or a name in time to come, was among the motives by 
which Mr. Williston was actuated in his benefactions, save 
that every man who consecrates the fruits of his industry to 
the good of the public, desires that they should be duly appre 
ciated, and that his example, by being known, may lead others 
to do likewise. But it is interesting to observe how God s 
Providence has so ordered it that he could not have taken a 
surer method to secure a world-wide reputation while he lives, 
and to send a glorious name down to the remotest posterity, 
than by founding and fostering institutions of learning with a 
religious basis. Already he is well known as a liberal bene 
factor of learning in this country and in Europe, and amid 
the revolutions of society the thing most likely to survive 
century after century is its literary institutions. This is a 
fulfilment of God s promise, them that honor Me I will honor. 
It is singular that wealthy men who are without religion but 
who desire (as who does not) to transmit an honored name to 
posterity, should not oftener see how easily it might be done 
by building up literary institutions. But for the most part 
while they will lavish fortunes upon buildings, and parks, and 
ornaments, as private residences, which will hardly survive 
their own short lives, they can so rarely be induced to attach 
their names to an Academy, a College, a Professorship, a 
Library, or a Cabinet, feeling as if all bestowed upon such 
objects were lost money. 



I would now briefly notice other early friends to the insti 
tution who belonged to the clerical profession. And I would 
first mention the man still living who has been longer than 
any other officially connected with the College, and its steadfast 
friend and advocate. I refer to the Rev. Dr. Joseph Vaill, 
now settled in Palmer. I believe that he was also a member 
of the Board of Trustees of Amherst Academy when the plan 
of a college was first developed. At any rate he was made a 
member of the College Board in 1821, when it first started, 
and ever since he has continued a member, that is for forty 
years. Rarely during all that time has he been absent from 
its meetings, or shrunk from the most arduous and trying 
labors in its behalf. It has been particularly as an Agent to 
obtain funds that he has done the most to sustain it. He 
was even dismissed from the ministry once in order to take 
this office, one of the most thankless and trying of all con 
nected with the institution. Gentlemanly and bland as well 
as Christian in his demeanor and intercourse, and deeply 
convinced of the importance of the object, he pleaded the cause 
of the College with much success, and had it not been for the 
funds which he obtained, I know not how it could have been 
carried forward. True we became convinced that the institution 
must cease to be longer a beggar before the community ; but 
so long as it was such Dr. Vaill faithfully presented its claims, 
and since that time in other relations, especially as a member 
of the Prudential Committee, for years he has done his part 
promptly and successfully. He may now be regarded as a 
patriarch of the institution. 


Another similar patriarch, who died in I860, was Rev. Dr. 
John Fiske, of New Braintree. He, too, was a member of the 
Board in 1821 ; but when a charter was obtained in 1825, he 
was left out till 1820, when he was again elected, and continued 
in the office till the time of his death, in all thirty years. He 


was a man of strong intellect and admirable judgment, con 
joined with piety of the true Puritan stamp. He was just the 
man to stand by the institution while passing through an 
exigency. For having once settled his course by the chart of 
duty, and put his hand to the helm, none of the cross currents 
of popular favor or popular frowns could change it by the 
smallest rhumb. No plea of conflicting duties or important 
business at home, or of poor health, by which not a few men 
excuse themselves from meetings where unpleasant and trying 
responsibilities must be assumed, ever kept him away from the 
meetings of the Board. Amherst College never had a wiser 
counsellor or a more consistent and devoted friend than Dr. 
John Fiske. 


A similar friend the College had in Rev. Dr. Theophilus 
Packard, of Shelburne. From the very first he was decidedly 
and actively engaged in promoting the new enterprise, and I 
have been told by a gentleman who heard it, that in the 
Convention that met in Amherst at the invitation of the 
Trustees of the Academy, in September, 1818, no speech there 
made was so able or effective as that of Dr. Packard. Yet 
he was then and continued till 1825, a member of the Board 
of Trustees of Williams College. His decided efforts for the 
removal of that institution to Hampshire County drew upon 
him a great deal of popular odium. 

Dr. Packard contmued a member of the Trustee Board till 
1854, the year before he died, at the age of eighty-six, and 
though for a few years before his death his powers were so 
impaired that the College might say non tali auxilio tempus 
eget, yet he continued to visit us and to take as deep an inter 
est as ever in the institution. No man had ever been more 
punctual to all his engagements, through evil as well as good 
report, than lie. No matter though the meeting promised to 
be a most discouraging one, the treasury without funds, the 
number of pupils diminishing, and the enemies of the College 


beginning to exult over its apprehended downfall, yet Dr. 
Packard would be sure to be there to pray and speak encour 
aging words to those who were trying to keep the wheels in 
motion. Dr. Packard s forte was intellectual philosophy, and 
he made special efforts to sustain that department, and even I 
believe instituted some prizes. He had one of the most acute 
minds in the country, and if his habits had been a little more 
scholarly and his reading commensurate with his thinking, no 
one would have gone before him in psychology. [See my 
published Sermon, at his funeral. ] 


Kev. Daniel A. Clark was pastor of the West Parish 
Church in Amherst at the period when the College was 
started, and he cordially lent his efforts to promote the object, 
as his published sermon, a Plea for a miserable World, testi 
fies. He was, as is well known, one of the ablest sermonizers 
in our country ; yet after sitting for a fortnight on an ecclesi 
astical council called to consider charges against him by some 
of his people, although the charges were not proved, and he 
was sustained by the council, still I became convinced that 
he was greatly deficient in the qualities of a good pastor, and 
it was not long before he was dismissed at his own request. 
He was no doubt a firm friend to the new enterprise, and 
labored hard to help it forward. 


Another early and long tried supporter of the College was 
the Rev. Alfred Ely, D. D. His name does not appear 
among the Trustees till 1825, nor can I say whether he was 
among the very earliest pioneers in this work. But after that 
for twenty-nine years, till he resigned on account of the 
infirmities of age, I know that he was a steadfast and efficient 
friend of the College. He was one of those men whom we 
always expected to see at our anniversaries and other public 
occasions, and whose presence and countenance always gave 


us new courage, for we felt confident that God would sustain 
an institution for which such men would honestly and ardently 
labor and pray. 


The name of President Wayland appears among the Trus 
tees for five years. But how much interest he took in the 
enterprise I am unable to say. That of Rev. Dr. Jonathan 
Going, another Baptist clergyman, was on the catalogue from 
1823 to 1831, but although I saw him at the annual meetings, 
I have no facts to state as to his particular efforts. I pass by 
that of Dr. Joseph Lyman, a Trustee for three years, for the 
same reason ; also that of Dr. John Brown, for seven years 
among the Trustees ; also that of Dr. John Nelson, who was a 
Trustee nine years. I wish I could say more than I am able 
respecting Rev. Experience Porter, who was a Trustee from 
1821 to 1825, and whom I recollect as a man of strong mind 
and decided character, who would throw all his energies into 
any cause he espoused. He must have taken a prominent 
part in this enterprise, or he would not have been selected as 
one of the first Trustees. My impression is that he died not 
long after 1825. 


"Were I to attempt to give outlines of the life and character 
of the other clerical gentlemen whose names appear among 
the Trustees, or even of their specific services in behalf of the 
College, the brief limits which I have prescribed to myself in 
these biographical sketches would be exceeded. Besides, so 
noiselessly, and as it were naturally, have they promoted the 
interest of the College, that it seems a matter of course, and it 
would not be easy to collect the details together. I refer to 
Prof. B. B. EDWARDS, elected in 1848 ; Dr. J. S. CLARK, in 
1852 ; Dr. W. P. PAINE, in 1854 ; Dr. J. LEAVITT and Rev. 
E. S. DWIGIIT, in 1855 ; and to Dr. L. SABIN, in 1862. Two 
of them are deceased, and of them I would say a few words. 


I refer to Prof. Edwards and Dr. Clark. Both of them 
were distinguished in the numerous relations they sustained 
to our literary, benevolent and religious institutions, for their 
freedom from all extravagance and excess in their plans and 
opinions, and for the soundness of their judgments, in other 
words, for practical wisdom. They were also distinguished 
for their enlarged and liberal views, and for their charity 
towards all mankind. Hence they showed such a kindness in 
their address, and such a readiness to help every good cause, 
that their aid seemed almost indispensable to every important 
literary or benevolent enterprise. Probably no Trustee of the 
College found so many calls upon his services by the friends and 
authorities of the College as Dr. Clark, and to no other man 
did individuals resort for advice and sympathy so frequently. 

In another place I shall state the important part taken by 
Prof. Edwards in the matter of a library. I would here only 
refer to a feature of his character which I have always 
regarded as an index of the true nobility of his nature, and 
the generous liberality of his views. It is well known that 
his forte was polite and sacred literature, and that he did not 
make pretensions to any thing more than a general acquain 
tance with science. Yet in those branches of science with 
which I am acquainted, I know that he kept well posted and 
rejoiced in their progress. He rose above the narrow view 
that there is an antagonism between science and literature, so 
that as he had given himself mostly to the latter, he must look 
with a jealous eye upon the former. With the missionary, 
Rev. Dr. Perkins, he believed that " it is the combined light 
of all truth, scientific as well as religious, that is to render so 
perfect and glorious the splendor of the millenial day," and 
moreover that literature and science are mutually dependent, 
and you cannot depress the one without sinking the other 
also. These enlarged views are so finely exhibited by Prof. 
Edwards, in a letter addressed by him to me on the occasion 
of the dedication of the new Cabinet and Observatory in 1848, 


and moreover present so interesting a phase of the subject, 
that I cannot withhold it : 

"ANDOVER, June 26, 1848. 
" Rev. President HITCHCOCK : 

"Dear Sir, It is with sincere regret that I must decline your kind 
invitation to be present on Wednesday. Indispensable engagements 
will detain me here. In common with multitudes I rejoice that you 
have been so favored in the Providence of God as to finish your 
edifice and fill it with such inestimable treasures. Nothing could 
be more appropriate than such a collection in the Connecticut Valley, 
so full of beauty, so crowded with visible and tangible proof of 
Divine wisdom, where the natural sciences can be studied under such 
preeminent advantages. I rejoice, also, from my belief that these 
studies are specially fitted to liberalize the mind and bind together 
the scholars of our country and of all nations. No persons in 
England, where illiberal feelings towards us have too much pre 
vailed, have done more to cement the two countries together than 
the students of natural science. None there feel or express for us 
more generous and ennobling sentiments than some of the leading 
members of the Royal and the Geological Societies. One of 
them, before he showed me the wonders of science which adorn his 
dwelling, pointed out what was particularly precious to him, an 
admirable portrait of Prof. Silliman. The president of the Geologi 
cal Society said in my hearing, that he honored the city of Boston, 
that it was doing more for the cause of popular education than all 
England. A third individual, who had travelled many years in the 
East, remarked to me, that no men were more respected for their 
knowledge and gentlemanly character than American missionaries. 
The principal jxaper read before the Hoyal Society in the evening 
when I was present, was written by an American physician on the 
coast of Africa. 

" Any thing which removes a prejudice, or promotes a kindly feeling 
between us and our parent State, is a matter for heartfelt gratitude. 
England, with all her faults, is a noble land. No where is there so 
much moral worth, such attractive specimens of social and Christian 
character, so much that adorns humanity. With England and the 
United States are bound up to a great degree the hopes of the world. 
Long may the scholars of the two countries love and labor like 
brethren. Rich and boundless fields of knowledge .are still open 
before them all. 


" Again expressing my sorrow that I cannot be with you on Wednes 
day, and hoping that every auspicious circumstance may combine to 
render the day pleasant and the occasion interesting, 
"I am yours, very faithfully, 



To attempt to give the details of Dr. Humphrey s life 
would be to write a volume. I shall give only the leading 
facts of his history as they are condensed in a sermon which 
I preached in the College chapel soon after his death, entitled, 
Tlie Moral Sublimity of a Completed Christian Life. 

Dr. Heman Humphrey s birthplace, March 20th, 1779, was West 
Simsbury, in Connecticut. From thence his father, Solomon Hum 
phrey, removed to Burlington in the same State, when Heman 
was six years old. His hopeful conversion occurred in the winter 
of 1798-9, when he was twenty years old. He was then a laborer 
on the farm, often as a hired man ; yet he was for several years a 
teacher, but did not think of a public education till some years after 
his conversion. Having engaged his services to a farmer who lived 
on the opposite side of a river, a spring freshet prevented his going 
over for some time, and the delay turned his thoughts towards 
college. He graduated at Yale College in 1805, in a class of forty- 
two, among whom were Dr. Gardiner Spring, of New York, still 
living, and the late Mr. Gaulladet, of Hartford. He studied theology 
with Rev. Asahel Hooker, of Goshen, and was licensed to preach by 
the Litchfield Congregational Association in October, 1806. March 
IGth, 1807, he was settled in Fairfield over the Congregational 
church, where he remained ten years, and was permitted to see one 
powerful revival. He was installed over the church in Pittsfield, in 
November, 1817, where he remained six years, and witnessed two 
revivals of extraordinary power. In 1823 he was transferred to 
Amherst College as its President, where he remained twenty-two 
years, and saw seven marked revivals of religion. Since 1845 he 
has passed a retired but not inactive life among the beloved people 
whom he left more than twenty years before. And on the 3d day 
of April, 1861, he was called to enter a higher and broader sphero 
of labor in the immediate presence of God. 

Men naturally inquire in respect to distinguished characters, what 
was the amount of their native talent, and of their literary attain- 


ments. Dr. Humphrey, in giving the character of his intimate 
friend, Dr. Nettleton, has said just what I should say of him on 
these points : " In my estimation," he says, " Dr. Nettleton was a 
great man not great merely as he was good, but great in the com 
mon meaning of the term. He was not a learned man. His Master 
never gave him time to distinguish himself as a scholar. He had 
too much work for him to do in his vineyard to allow it. Though 
he had a good, substantial public education, Dr. Nettleton made no 
pretensions to high attainments in classical literature, or in any 
of the abstruse sciences. In the latter he might have excelled, had 
not his soul been fired with higher and holier aims." Memoir of 
Nettleton, p. 363. 

But though this estimate of Dr. Humphrey s literary standing may 
be essentially true, it is also true, that the writings of very few 
Christian authors in our land are more generally known, or more 
highly appreciated, or more influential, than his. How shall this be 
explained ? Chiefly by the marks of sound wisdom and Christian 
fidelity and earnestness which so characterize them all, and they are 
also full of vivacity and strong emotion. We see that the senti 
ments come from a clear head, and a warm heart. Moreover, they 
are based upon common sense, and commend themselves to every 
man s judgment as a safe guide. His writings are quite voluminous ; 
not so many set treatises, indeed, say nine or ten, but an almost 
endless number of short articles in our periodicals or religious 
newspapers, or in occasional sermons and addresses. For this kind 
of writing he had unusual qualifications, such as sound, sterling 
sense, ready wit, Christian kindness, and a vigorous Saxon style. 
Of course he has had large audiences ; yet probably not one of 
his hearers or readers ever received an impression from him 
unfavorable to religion, morality, sound learning, good manners, 
patriotism, or charity. This is saying a great deal ; and it must 
have formed a soft pillow for his head as he lay down to die. 

Another very important inquiry we raise about men, is, what 
are their religious sentiments ? Here, too, in describing those of 
Dr. Nettleton, I think Dr. Humphrey has given his own. " In his 
theology Dr. Nettleton was neither a high nor a low Calvinist. 
While he admired the illustrious Genevan reformer, and subscribed, 
ex animo, to all the leading doctrines of his immortal Institutes, he 
called neither Calvin nor any other man master. He was an 
Edwardean rather than a high Calvinist ; and yet profound as his 
veneration was for that greatest of theologians, as Dr. Chalmers 
styles President Edwards, he thought it his duty to investigate every 


subject, for himself. With his little duodecimo Bible, or his Greek 
Testament, always in his hands, he was one of the most independent 
thinkers that I have ever known. Upon the foundation of the 
apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner 
stone, he stood like a pillar upon the everlasting rock." 

It was, as we think, Dr. Humphrey s strong practical wisdom, 
under the control of firm Christian principle, that formed the chief 
element of his greatness, and the secret of his wide spread reputa 
tion. His long life gave an opportunity for testing this wisdom in 
so many circumstances, and with such success, that in all parts 
of our land, and even in the fatherland, the highest respect was 
entertained for his opinions, and the strongest confidence in his 
judgment. So that probably in almost any assembly in our land, 
had another Aeschylus said, O? yap SOKCIV MKCLIOS, aW civat Qlht, &c., 
(he was more anxious to be righteous than to seem so,) all eyes 
would have been turned upon Dr. Humphrey, as they were upon 

It is interesting to look at the path marked out for Dr. Humphrey 
by Providence, and to see how each successive stage was wisely 
adapted to prepare him for those that followed. We can see many 
good reasons why his lot was cast in early life among the poor, and 
why he came so late into public life. One was, that he might have 
that thorough physical training on the farm, which should give him 
a constitution that could go through with a twenty years conflict in 
the establishment of this institution, without breaking down. Another 
was, to teach him how to exercise that rigid economy which he 
found indispensable in the same work. A third was, that he might 
know how to sympathize with, and assist, the numerous young men 
originating from the same straitened circumstances, who would here 
pass under his charge. Of the seven hundred and ninety-five who 
graduated during his presidency, by far the largest part were of this 
description, and experienced his fostering and guiding influence. 

In the second stage of his course, that is during his ministry at 
Fairfield and at Pittsfield, we can see some things of the same antici- 
pative charater. One was, that God gave him, as a bosom friend, 
the man most honored of God of all others in our land as an instru 
ment of revivals, and most wise in their management, I mean Dr. 
Nettleton, and then God permitted him to witness in his own 
church, several of the most remarkable displays of converting grace 
known in the annals of the country. Do we not see the reason why 
such wise instruction and such rich experience on this subject were 
given him, when the history of his administration here tells us that 


ho was allowed to witness seven revivals ? And how important it 
was that these should be wisely conducted, we learn, when we find 
that of the seven hundred and ninety-five graduates during his 
presidency, four hundred and thirty became ministers of the Gospel ; 
eighty-four of whom were settled in Massachusetts, and thirty-nine 
became foreign missionaries. How important that these should 
receive correct instruction as to the treatment of perhaps a thousand" 
revivals which they have since witnessed. 

Another fact should be mentioned in this connection. Dr. 
Humphrey was among the very first in our land to move in the tem 
perance reformation. As early as 1810 he preached ten sermons on 
the subject, and in 1812 he wrote an address to the churches advo 
cating pledged abstinence from spirits, and it was published by the 
ministerial association to which he belonged. How important that 
he should thus early enlist in this cause, when only a few years after 
he was to be placed at the head of a community which above all others 
needs to be pledged against intoxicating substances, and to be well 
drilled soldiers of the temperance army. 

How obvious then that all the earlier discipline and events of 
Dr. Humphrey s life pointed significantly to his last and greatest 
work in this institution. That he was willing to leave one of the 
most delightful villages in the land, in spite of the remonstrances of 
a large and affectionate church, and enlist in a cause which was then 
unpopular, and which if ever successful, would triumph only after a 
long and bitter conflict, shows how ready he was to make sacrifices, 
when the cause of religion and learning demanded it. The fact 
is, and it ought never to be forgotten, that a leading object in 
the effort to establish this College was, to counteract the influence 
of certain deadly errors in religion, which were undermining and 
sweeping away the ancient landmarks. Then too, local prejudices 
and the competing interests and jealousies of those of the same 
faith, were roused to desperate opposition. But Dr. Humphrey, with 
a strong bodily constitution, great Christian kindness, yet inflexible 
firmness, and armed with faith and prayer, offered himself as a 
champion to meet this- Goliath. Some of us now present, who were 
with him through nearly the whole of the long struggle, can testify 
how faithfully, how courageously, how patiently and perseveringly, 
he stood at his post. The truth is, God was on our side, and he gave 
us this token of it, that while in outward and material interests 
we were straitened, high spiritual prosperity was ours ; as numerous 
revivals and the large proportion of graduates who devoted them 
selves to the ministry and to missions testified. God was leading 


us ; and outward trials were no proof to the contrary. For, as a 
recent remarkable man has declared, " God s way leads always into 
trial, so far as sight and sense are concerned. Nature always will 
be tried in God s ways." Mullefs Life of Trust, p. 214. 

It has been many years since Dr. Humphrey left the more active 
scenes of public professional life, and took up his residence among 
the people of his former charge, who have cherished him as a 
precious treasure, and confided in him as a father. But his has not 
been an idle life, as several volumes, and almost innumerable 
smaller effusions of his pen testify. His bodily powers, and mental 
vigor especially, have held out very remarkably. Of this we have 
a striking proof in a sermon on the present disastrous condition 
of our country, delivered by him no longer ago than our late 
National Fast, January 4th, 1861. It is said that its delivery indi 
cated the vigor of early life; and as a literary production, it is 
certainly a remarkable effusion for a man over fourscore years old. 
On questions relating to slavery, he has always been regarded as 
conservative ; but when he saw it rending asunder this fair Union, 
it roused into intense action the whole soul of the Christian and the 
patriot. "And now," says he, "when instigated by the demon 
slavery, traitors are plotting for the overthrow of the Government, 
may I not speak what I think in this presence? I shall not be 
hindered. My heart is full of the matter. Every drop of my old 
blood is quickened." The torrent of argument and feeling, of 
rebuke and expostulation which followed, will bear comparison as 
to eloquence and power, with any which this painful subject has 
elicited from the pulpit, the forum, or the press. 

Tell me now, my friends, is not here a noble example of a com 
pleted Christian life ? See this venerable man, long an inhabitant 
of the land of Beulah, and now drawing near the banks of Jordan, 
ascending that same mount of glory where Paul stood, when he 
was ready to be offered. He could look back upon sixty years of 
faithful service since first he professed religion ; and with not one 
dark stain upon the picture of a life consecrated to the cause of 
Christ and of learning. Yet how many monuments of success and 
of God s blessing rise up on the long pathway, not to foster pride, 
but to awaken gratitude. And then turning towards the celestial 
city, what glories come pouring in from the Sun of Righteousness, 
which is its light ! Tell me, ye Christian young men before me, 
whether here is not a scene of moral sublimity more worthy of your 
aspirations than any which worldly ambition can offer ? 


Dr. Humphrey preceded me two years in his connection 
with the College. Professor N. W. Fiske came one year 
earlier than I did. Professor S. M. Worcester also joined as 
Tutor at the same time with Dr. Humphrey, and was made 
Professor in 1825. In the same year Rev. Solomon Peck 
was made Professor of Latin, which post he occupied seven 
years. He was an able and faithful teacher, and cordially pro 
moted the great object of the institution. He was afterwards 
very useful as Secretary of the Baptist Board of Foreign 
Missions. But within a few years, as I understand the matter, 
he has been rather unceremoniously dropped from that office. 

Professor Worcester remained connected with the College 
nine years after I joined it, and I always regarded him as 
well adapted to his place ; always genial and gentlemanly in 
his feelings, frank and unsuspicious, and though sometimes 
discursive in his public performances, never wanting in appro 
priate words; decided in his principles and piety, and cor 
dially attached to the objects of the institution. Since leaving 
Amherst, as is well known, he has faithfully sustained the 
duties of the ministry in Salem, and still lives to do good. 
For many years he has experienced severe domestic afflic 
tions, such as a miracle alone can remove; but he has borne 
them with true Christian fortitude. 


I shall make no attempt to delineate the character of Pro 
fessor Fiske, since it has already been done by Dr. Humphrey. 
His mind and scholarship were of a high order. He was 
most remarkable for acuteness of intellect, though capable of 
grasping great plans and principles ; but when once he got 
started in pursuit of a truth, he would track it to its hiding 
place, though he had to go through a Cretari labyrinth. He 
was a diligent student, and not well fitted to come in contact 
with men in the rough and tumble of life. He seemed to 


want what scholars are so apt to want a knowledge of com 
mon things, so that when they mix with men they do things, 
which though not wrong, are odd, and are laughed at. They 
shrink away from the world and live in a sort of seclusion. 

Professor Fiske had a remarkably ready and keen wit, 
which was sometimes so keen that it wounded deeper than 
he intended. His power of description was almost une 
qualled. I will give two examples, where wit and graphic 
description are combined. 

In his journeyings through Syria and Palestine, where he 
died, he turned his attention to collecting geological specimens 
for our Missionary Collection, and with much success, as the 
shelves of our cabinet testify. In a letter written after 
putting up a box of these specimens, I find the following 
amusing remarks : 

"The noise of breaking this specimen," says he, " as I was but a 
few feet from the door of the house, brought out an old woman, in a 
filthy Arab dress. She drew her Mandil (mantle) down over her 
forehead, holding it with her left hand under her chin, leaving her 
right hand free for gestures, and her lips at liberty for speech, and 
with a little fierce looking black eye, and sallow, shrivelled face, she 
came at me with a tremendous volley of Arabic, in a shrill screech, 
frightful enough to make one s hair stand on end. Not a word could 
I understand ; only I used my Yankee faculty of guessing that she 
was scolding the impudent and thieving Frank ; and that if I did 
not somehow silence her noise, the whole neighborhood would be 
roused, and what woes might then betide me, not even a Yankee 
could guess. I had no Arabic to explain, or apologize, or entreat : 
but for my good luck, I had that very morning learned Arabic 
enough to say, Shoo-hi-dah, what is that ? and this was the whole 
length and breadth of my vocabulary. So I put my right hand, first 
on my breast, then to my forehead, (the Arabic mode of salutation,) 
and with a smile and tone as gracious as I could make, held out my 
specimen, and pointing to one of the little shells in it, said, Shoo- 
hi-dah ? Shoo-hi-dah ? She raised her eye-brows, relaxed a little 
her grasp of the Mandil, and looked at the shell, and cried, Allah, 
Allah, hi-dah bwak. O God, God, that is Iwak : then resumed her 
furious scolding and yelling. I carefully laid down the stone on a 
block, and picking up a little pebble, held it out and said, Shoo-hi- 


dah, $c., ftc., and thus finally calmed her down, and made my escape. 
Had I known Katyr Khyr ak, I certainly should have closed with it. 

"A day or two after, I walked through the same yard, and found 
my specimen lying where I laid it down, and then I quietly put it in 
my pocket. 

"In this trip, (from Beyroot to Abeih and Bhamdun,) I have 
gathered oysters and clams, and I cannot tell what other fish, 
cooked, (you perhaps know when,) in old Pluto s or Vulcan s 
kitchen, and pickled down (or rather up, for I found some of them 
on summits thousands of feet high,) and preserved by the help 
of Neptune, and for aught I know the mermaids too : for all which, 
the geologists will thank them ; more grateful, I imagine, than the 
poor donkeys, whose burdens are often increased by not a few 
pounds weight of these ante-mundane delicacies. At Abeih, I 
boxed for you, what a Carolinian would call a mighty liy lump, 
weighing less than a ton. It will doubtless prove a Jactalite, (a 
rock to be thrown away) should it ever reach you. All I shall ask 
of you, provided it thus terminate, is, that you will bestow on the 
innocent fishes a decent burial beneath the turf." 

In this same collection one notices with melancholy interest 
several specimens from Mount Zion, obtained by Professor 
Fiske only a few weeks before he himself was laid there in 
the Protestant burying ground near the tomb of David. The 
fact is, his constitution was too much enfeebled before he left 
home, to endure the heat and miasms of the climate in Syria 
and Palestine and the exposures of travelling. His friends 
had tried in vain to draw hini out of his study at an earlier 
date, nor did he go till his symptoms admonished him that 
without amendment he must soon sink. He seems to have 
been fully prepared for the summons. His views of religious 
truth had always been remarkably clear, and his life consist 
ent, and many a conscience testified to his unusual power in 
the lecture room and the pulpit, as do also his published 
discourses. That faith held out to the last, and even when 
through weakness the mind was scarcely able to maintain its 
balance, we can see that faith was triumphant, as the following 
letter dictated by him just at the close of life will show : 


"JERUSALEM, May 18, 1847. 
"Rev. EDWARD HITCHCOCK, D. D., President of Amherst College. 

"To you, my dear friend and brother, and head of our beloved 
colleagues in instruction, and President of the Trustees, I was 
expecting to address a letter from Beyroot, hoping, on or before my 
arrival there, to meet letters from Amherst, and from my friends in 
America, helping me to decide the path of duty, as to the remaining 
months of this summer. But the great Head of the Church is 
distinctly telling me that I have nothing more to do with earthly plans. 
I am prostrated under the disease called dysentery, which has 
hitherto baffled all attempts to-arrest it. I am, by a kind Providence, 
in the family of Doctor McGowan, the eminently skilful physician 
connected with the English mission in this place, and besides having 
the best medical attention, I have the cheering presence of the Rev. 
Mr. Whiting, as nurse and Christian friend. My time and strength 
compel that other circumstances should be learned from another 
person. My support in this trying hour is drawn solely, I trust, 
from the great and precious promises, connected with those peculiar 
doctrines of the Cross, which you and I have long professed to love. 
My hcpe of salvation rests on the merits and grace of Him who 
suffered in Gethsemane and on Calvary, for lost sinners. I lean upon 
them as the Lord my strength, and the Lord my righteousness all 
my salvation and all my desire. Worthless and guiltly as I am, I 
feel that He will not forsake me, but carry me safely through the 
great conflict. To you and the dear brethren, I have many words 
to say, but cannot utter them." 


Jacob Abbot was appointed Tutor in 1824, and Professor 
of Mathematics in 1825. He remained till 1829, when he 
resigned to engage in what has since been his life work, tho 
writing of books for the young, which have become well known 
and highly useful all over Christendom. He had a remark 
able power of interesting children, and delighted in gamboling 
with them. He had a good deal of mechanical ingenuity, and 
succeeded well in experiments in Natural Philosophy. But 
he evidently thought that such a work, in a new and poorly 
furnished institution, whose ultimate success did at that time 
seem doubtful, was not the sphere marked out for him by 


Providence, but rather the more important work in which he 
has since been so eminently successful. 


To Prof. Abbot succeeded Sylvester Hovey. He was a son 
of Mrs. Elisha Billings, of Conway, by her first husband. He 
was educated at Yale, where he took the first appointment, 
became afterwards a Tutor, and studied for the ministry there. 
He then became Professor of Natural Philosophy in Williams 
College, from whence he was transferred to Amherst, in 1829. 
He was a man of extensive erudition and of enlarged views ; 
of kind and gentlemanly demeanor, and of consistent, devoted 
piety. But he had no great mechanical skill, and hence did 
not succeed very well as an experimenter certainly compared 
with his successor, who was then an Adjunct Professor, but 
took no part, I believe, in the manipulations of the lecture- 
room. Prof. Hovey s chief difficulty, however, was a wretched 
state of health. Consumption had marked him as its victim, 
and though he struggled manfully with disease, he succumbed 
at last, and continued Professor at Amherst only four years- 
His amiable and accomplished wife went before him with the 
same disease. He spent one year in Europe, where he pur 
chased, chiefly of Pixii, of Paris, the most important part of 
our Philosophical Cabinet, and the nucleus of our Library. 
He also resided one winter at St. Croix, in the West Indies, 
where he turned his attention to Natural History, and made 
valuable collections in conchology and geology. These, by 
his will, were presented to Amherst College. The concho- 
logical collection was afterwards merged in the much larger 
one of Professor Adams, to satisfy that gentleman s notions of 
unity, and though in the catalogue due credit is given, I doubt 
not, to all specimens donated by Prof. Hovey, yet I always 
considered it a great wrong thus to destroy the individually 
of a collection made with great care and expense, and forming, 
as in this case, almost the only memento of an amiable and 
accomplished man who thus testified his love for an institution 


for which he would gladly have done more. The geological 
part of his donation still remains entire, although increased by 
some other gifts. But this was less valuable than the con- 
chological collection. I do not suppose that Prof. Adams 
intended to do any injustice to Prof. Hovey ; but he thought 
all the specimens in any branch of natural history should 
belong to only one collection, and I could not convince him to 
the contrary. For convenience and unity this is indeed desir 
able. But when collections of much size have been made, 
with care and expense, and then given not sold to a col 
lege, it is pleasant to successors to preserve them as mementos, 
and sometimes it would be little short of sacrilege to break 
them up. So it would be regarded, for instance, were the 
collection of crystals, in the Garden of Plants, in Paris, made 
by the Abbe Hauy, to be distributed among the other 
minerals in that establishment. 


Ebenezer S. Snell was appointed Tutor in 1825. In 1829 
he was made Adjunct Professor with Prof. Hovey. I believe 
he devoted himself chiefly to mathematics till the death of 
Prof. Hovey, in 1833, when the full professorship was thrown 
upon him, and from that time to the present he has continued 
its honored incumbent. He was the son of Rev. Dr. Thomas 
Snell, of Brookfield, one of the earliest friends and supporters 
of the College, though being for several years a trustee of 
Williams College, he was never appointed a trustee at 
Amherst. But as early as 1821 he was made one of the 
Overseers of the Fund, and filled that office till 1855. He has 
ever been a most faithful and efficient friend of the College. 
He died in 1862. Prof. Snell had three traits of character 
which eminently fitted him to take this post. The first was a 
habit of strict fidelity and promptness in the performance of 
every duty. With him there was no tardiness, no shrinking 
from any duty which it was in his power to perform no 
shirking of responsibility himself nor allowing students to shirk. 


No one not familiar with college life knows how important 
such characteristics are in the officers. However fascinating 
and splendid a man may be in his public performances, if he 
cannot be depended upon for a punctual and persevering per 
formance of his ordinary and most minute duties ; if on any 
pretext whatever his duties are left for others to perform, he 
is a nuisance to the College. Professor Snell s example has 
always tended to keep the ship at Amherst steadily on her 

Another very important trait was his remarkable mechanical 
skill. He has been in the habit of constructing a considerable 
part of the philosophical apparatus with his own hands, and 
the best judges could scarcely distinguish his articles from 
those made in Paris, London or Boston. This ability has been 
of great importance in an institution so destitute of funds as 
Amherst College. The admirable care that has been taken 
of its fine Philosophical Cabinet is due to the same superior 
skill. It contains also several new and ingenious instruments 
invented by the Professor, which have excited much interest 
among scientific men. 

I might mention as another important trait his strong 
experimental conviction of the truth of evangelical religion, 
such a conviction as would lead him to be willing to make 
great personal sacrifices for its defence and promotion, as he 
must do if permanently connected with the new institution. 
He was willing to take hold of this as a life work. It was 
easy to find men of ability who would do very well for a time 
in order to make a professorship at Amherst a stepping-stone 
to some more attractive post. When they had become popular 
there, they would listen to some louder call made Providential 
by a larger salary or a more conspicuous station, and without 
much apparent misgivings they could leave the College to 
endure as it could the removal of a popular officer. But such 
were not Prof. Snell s views of duty, and for thirty-eight years 
to this date (1863) he has scarcely been absent a month from 
his post, except one recent trip to Europe. It is such men 


that give character to a college, especially in its earlier and 
feebler days. 


The name of Rev. Jonas King appears on our catalogue as 
Professor of Oriental Literature from 1822 to 1828, and 
doubtless, without some explanation, posterity will suppose 
that gentleman to have been here lecturing and giving 
instruction in Oriental Literature. But in fact, except on 
a nying visit, he did not reside during that period nearer to 
Amherst than Athens, in Greece. Among the founders of 
the College were some, and in the community generally there 
were many, who supposed that one of the most effectual 
modes of converting the heathen was to bring some of their 
young men to this country and collect them in seminaries, 
as was attempted at Cornwall, in Connecticut. Another 
notion was that young men going as missionaries, say 
to the Orient, had better learn some of the languages 
of Asia in this country. One of the Trustees (S. V. S. 
Wilder,) had been a principal means of sending Mr. King 
to Greece, and it was thought that after a few years residence 
there, he would be eminently fitted to become a professor in a 
college founded expressly for the purpose of educating men to 
be ministers and missionaries. Hence his name was continued 
so long upon the catalogue. And it did serve like a national 
flag to designate to the world the grand object of the institu 
tion, and though the notions which probably led to the 
appointment are no longer considered as correct, and though 
Mr. King never gave any instruction in the College, yet it 
will show to all who shall hereafter manage the affairs of the 
College, how prominent was the missionary enterprise with 
the founders of the College, and whenever that object is lost 
sight of, or thrown into a subordinate place, then are the 
funds and cabinets perverted and the incumbents liviug by 



Professor Gamaliel S. Olds left the same year in which I 
joined the College, having been Professor of Mathematics and 
Natural Philosophy four years. He had previously been in 
the same professorship in Williams College and also in 
Burlington, Vermont, and he was likewise settled in the 
ministry in Greenfield, where he published an able work on 
Episcopacy. He was undoubtedly a man of superior talents 
and acquirements, though I think rather clumsy as an experi 
menter. But he was one of that sort of men who could not 
work comfortably with others. He afterwards resided in Ohio 
and lost his life from an unruly horse. 


With Professor Joseph Estabrook I had little acquaint 
ance. He was Preceptor of Amherst Academy when the 
College was introduced, and being of respectable talents and 
scholarship, a graduate of Darmouth College, he was 
appointed with the title Professor of Languages, which was 
changed the third year to Professor of Greek and Latin Lan 
guages. I know not why he left at the end of the third year, 
but he did so, and went subsequently to Tennessee, where he 
became President of East Tennessee University. After a 
successful administration of several years, he resigned, and 
turned his attention to mining operations, in which I have 
been told he was less successful. 

It will be seen that in 1825 the number of professors was 
considerably increased, and most of them labored together for 
quite a number of years, four of us (Humphrey, Hitchcock, 
Fiske, and Snell,) for twenty years, and two of us (Hitchcock 
and Snell,) for thirty-eight years, to 1863. The College had 
now got under full headway with six professors and one tutor, 
and one hundred and fifty-two students. Previous to that year 
the six tutors employed had all been graduates of other 
colleges, but after that time the fifty-eight (including threo 


instructors,) have all been graduates of Amherst College. 
The president and professors in 1825 were all alumni 
of other colleges, excepting myself, who never graduated at 
any college, though recipient of an honorary A. M. from 
Yale. Dr. . Humphrey was a Yale graduate. Professor 
Fiske, of Dartmouth, Professor Peck, of Brown University, 
Professor Worcester, of Harvard, and Professor Abbot, 
of Bowdoin. Tutor Snell alone graduated at Amherst, 
in 1822. 


The names of several other gentlemen appear as Professors 
upon our Triennial whom I shall pass briefly over, not because 
they did not stand high as instructors, but chiefly because they 
remained here only a few years, and left us for wider fields 
of usefulness. In other spheres they have risen high for the 
most part, save where accident and death cut short their 
career. We count it an honor that we can reckon them 
among our instructors, and we well remember the pang it 
cost us and the heavy blow it gave the College when they felt 
it to be their duty to leave. But as their reputations were 
chiefly obtained elsewhere, it does not fall within the scope 
of these Reminiscences to go into much detail as to their 

Among those names is that of Professor EDWARDS A. PARK, 
who staid with us only about a year and was in feeble health, 
but who showed enough of intellectual and moral power to 
make it less surprising to us in Amherst to see him since take 
his stand at the head of American theologians. 

Professor HENRY B. SMITH remained with us three years. 
In him, too, we saw the rapidly developing germ which has 
lifted him into the front rank among the scholars and 
theologians of our country. 

These gentlemen occupied the chair of Intellectual and 
Moral Philosophy. It was subsequently filled by Professor 
JOSEPH HAVEN, whose character as a teacher, a preacher and 


an author here, during eight years, was a sure precursor 
of his eminent success at the head of a Theological Seminary 
at the West. 

Rev. JONATHAN B. CONDIT has several times changed his 
position from pastor to professor and the, but has 
always had distinguished success and was much beloved, as 
he was during his three years at Amherst. 

Professor WILLIAM C. FOWLER came here from Middle- 
bury, where he had been Professor of Chemistry ; but here, 
for five years, he occupied the chair of Rhetoric and Oratory. 
Since he left the place he has retired from professional life. 

Rev. THOMAS P. FIELD filled the same chair for three 
years and then tore himself away in spite of strong efforts to 
retain one so able and acceptable, and has since occupied an 
important place as pastor of a church in New London. 

Rev. WILLIAM A. PEABODY, a graduate of Amherst, 
entered upon the professorship of Latin in 1849, with the 
fairest prospects, and soon secured the love and respect of all. 
But alas, within one year, violent disease tore him from us. 

The same office was ably filled for four years by Rev. GEORGE 
B. JEWETT, also a graduate of the College, and for many years 
a successful teacher of the young in Lowell. Professor Jewett 
distinguished himself as a preacher, and felt so strong a love 
of the pastoral office that he left us and was settled in 
Nashua, New Hampshire. But there he and his excellent 
wife met with a terrible accident in crossing a railroad track 
and he was maimed for life. He still lives, however, and 
struggles manfully with his calamities, and we have a hope 
that he may so far recover as to do much yet for the cause 
of God and man. 

Professor JOHN W. MALLET was a young man from Dub 
lin, in Ireland, through whose University he passed, and then 
spent years in the German Universities. His talents and 
attainments were of the highest order in almost every depart 
ment of science, but he has been particularly distinguished in 
analytical chemistry, and such a chair was created for him in 


Amherst. But there was not enough encouragement to retain 
him here, and he accepted a professorship in Alabama Uni 
versity, where he became fixed also by marriage, and whether 
he can ever escape from the clutches of secessionism would 
seem doubtful. 

Though I have entered into some detail as to the history 
and characteristics of three of the present Faculty, because 
they have been so long connected with the College, I shall not 
make the same attempt in respect to the more recent members, 
because it has not been my intention, save in the way of 
statistics, to give my impressions of the present college officers. 
I can only say that the present gratifying condition of the 
institution is a sufficient testimony to the ability and fidelity 
of its officers. Of Dr. STEARNS I said in my Valedictory 
Address, " How peculiarly gratifying is it, as I leave my post, 
to find one ready to assume it, in whose Christian character, 
learning, ministerial ability and correct judgment, not only 
myself, but the trustees, the faculty and the public have entire 
confidence." I now have the gratification of repeating this 
high encomium after it has been tested by years of trial. 

The success of Prof. W. S. CLARK in procuring the means 
for the erection and the skill displayed in the construction of 
the new Laboratory, and to a great extent the Gymnasium, 
testify to his great energy and ability, while his popularity as 
a lecturer on chemistry shows his skill in controlling the minds 
of men. The same traits along with distinguished bravery 
have shown themselves thus far in his military career. 

The present healthy and efficient condition of the difficult 
departments of Rhetoric and Oratory shows the ability and 
fidelity of its accomplished incumbent, Prof. J. G. VOSE. He 
also is justly and highly esteemed as an able and popular 

The same remarks will apply to Dr. J. II. SEELYE and his 
department of Intellectual and Moral Philosophy, as well as 
to his ability and success as a preacher of the Gospel. The 


repeated efforts to draw him away from Amherst show the 
high appreciation of the public for his services. 

The amiable and learned gentleman, Prof. EDWARD TUCK- 
ERMAN, who has charge of Botany and History, is less con 
cerned in giving instruction in College than would be desirable; 
for we all know his eminent ability and especially that as a 
lichenographist he takes the precedence of all others in our 

As to the younger members of the faculty, the Professor of 
Latin, E. P. CROWELL, and the Assistant Professor, W. L. 
MONTAGUE ; the Assistant Professor of Greek. R. H. MATHER, 
also the Instructor in Mathematics, W. C. ESTY, I can speak 
with strong confidence, because they were educated here, and 
I have known them long and intimately. If sterling abilities, 
accurate scholarship, amiable manners, untiring industry and 
high religious principle, can give success and distinction in 
instruction, we may safely anticipate it in their case. 

It is not proper that I should give any flattering estimate 
of the ability and adaptedness of my son, EDWARD HITCH 
COCK, Jr., for the new department of Hygiene and Physical 
Education. All I can say is that thus far it has seemed to be 
carried forward successfully. 

Some of the earlier and older of the College Faculty with 
whom I was long associated (Professors SHEPARD, ADAMS 
and TYLER) I shall notice in another place seemingly more 




Under the term statistics I place the number of students 
and instructors, the studies pursued and the public buildings. 
The contents of the buildings as well, and the funds of the 
institution, might also be appropriately included ; but I prefer 
to reserve those points for distinct consideration. 

Every officer of college knows that this is the question most 
frequently put to him in the community : How many students 
have you now in the institution ? If it is small, nine out of 
ten conclude the college to be in a bad condition ; if large, in 
a good condition. But the professor knows that unimportant 
circumstances have a good deal to do with numbers, and that 
sometimes the reason why a college overflows with students is 
that it has lowered the standard of scholarship or of discipline 
more than other institutions. Numbers only show the estima 
tion in which a college is held by the public, but does not 
settle its real merit. Nevertheless if a college like Amherst 
at its commencement does not secure public patronage, it 
could not maintain itself long for want of funds. It has had 
to pass through one long and trying exigency of this sort, 
as the following table of its members from the beginning 
will show: 











1821, ... 
1825 .... 

























































































1839, . . . . 





































































































1869, !. . !! 







Totals, .... 




I have followed the annual catalogues in giving the numbers 
in the classes in the different years. And since the collegiate 
year begins in the summer or autumn, and the civil year in 
January, the graduates are put down a year in advance of the 


same men on the annual catalogue, so that to find out how 
many of the seniors in any given year graduated, we must 
look to the graduates of the next year. Thus in 1844 there 
were thirty seniors, and by looking at the graduates in 1845 
we find that they all graduated. But in 1836 there were 
sixty seniors, while against 1837 there are only fifty-one grad 
uates, showing that nine of the class did not take diplomas. 
On the other hand, against 1853 we have thirty-three seniors, 
but thirty-seven graduates against 1854, showing that four 
were added to the class during the year. 

By inspecting the preceding table it will be seen that the 
influx of students in the early years of the College was very 
great, showing that a chord had been struck to which public 
Christian sentiment responded. The numbers gradually rose 
till in 1836 they reached two hundred and fifty-nine. But 
from that tune an equally rapid diminution took place, till 
within nine years only one hundred and eighteen students 
belonged to the College less than half the number in 1836. 
The causes of this change in public feeling will perhaps be 
better understood when we come to give facts about the finan 
cial history of the institution. But it was hard work to stop 
this ebbing tide, which would soon have left the ship on dry 
ground. The flood did, however, slowly come back, so that 
in 1854, nine years more, the numbers were doubled. Yet up 
to this time they have never reached the influx of 1836. 

The whole number of graduates on the preceding list, from 
1822 to 1863 inclusive, is one thousand five hundred and 
twenty. The whole number that have entered the Fresh 
man Class in the same period, or rather from 1821 to 1862, is 
two thousand two hundred and thirty-seven. It might seem 
at first thought that this is the whole number that have ever 
belonged to the College, and that by deducting from this num 
ber the sum of the graduates, we could determine how many 
have failed to go through. But this would leave out all who 
have joined the higher classes. To find out how many have 
done so I have found a difficult and laborious task. But by 



collating and comparing the catalogues I have obtained the 
approximate number that have entered the higher classes 
during the different years, from 1823 to 18 63. I present 
them in the following table, thinking that the details may be 
of some service. 

It ought to be stated that where students fall back from a 
higher to a lower class, or leave college and subsequently 
return, their names will be repeated in the catalogues as enter 
ing twice, as in fact they do. As an offset to this, those 
persons are not included in the following list who enter college 
say at commencement, but never join it, or if they do, do not 
continue members till the time of making up the catalogue ; 
and the number of such students is considerably large. We 
must hence regard the following numbers as a tolerably near 
approach to the exact numbers. 





Sophomores. 1 




Sophomores. 1 

























1825, :.. 










































4 i 





























































































Totals, . 








Total Seniors, Juniors, and Sophomores, 
Total Freshmen, . . . . , 




The preceding list shows us that 006 have joined the upper 
classes from 1821 to 1862. This added to 2,237, the number 
of Freshmen to 1862, makes 2,807, equal the whole number 
who have joined the College since its commencement. De 
ducting from this the number of graduates, equal 1,481, it 
leaves the appalling number of 1,326 who have never gradu 
ated. This is equal to about forty-seven per cent. ! very nearly 
one-half! Some of these, however, went to other colleges and 
graduated there, but I am afraid the number of such was not 
very large. The fact is the failure of young men who attempt 
to obtain a public education is frightfully large. If we should 
go farther back than the College, how many never got so far 
as to offer themselves at its gates. And if sixty or seventy do 
enter, I never knew the case in which some of them did not 
fail to appear at recitation, and of those who enter, if the cata 
logue be delayed a few weeks, others drop off; at the close of 
the term a still larger number, and at the end of Freshman 
year the stampede is often quite large. The causes are various. 
Some are affected by an incurable home-sickness ; others find 
that they have overrated their scholarship, and will have to 
struggle desperately if they remain to hold on even at the tail 
of the class ; others are driven away by abuse from the older 
classes; but at Amherst the most prolific cause is poverty. 
And as this College was founded specially for indigent students, 
the numbers who fail to go through may be larger than at 
almost any other college in the country, because so many 
extremely poor resort to that institution. But though such 
young men often become quite useful, yet it is sad to blast at 
once so many bright hopes, not only of students but of their 

A second point in the statistics of the College relates to the 
instruction which has been provided for the students. Though 
at first the professorships were few, yet the great numbers that 
flocked to the new College compelled the Trustees to make 
more ample provision than their funds would justify ; for from 
the outset they had token the high ground that they should 


give as thorough an education as any of the New England 
colleges. At first this could not be realized, especially in the 
physical departments, for the want of apparatus and specimens. 
But in thorough drilling and scholarship they soon redeemed 
their pledge, and though they could not send forth their grad 
uates with the prestige of the older seminaries, it was found 
that in the professional seminaries Amherst graduates did not 
fall behind any others, as I have been assured by gentlemen 
connected with some of those seminaries. 

The following is a list of the Professorships, Preceptorships, 
Tutorships, and Lectureships in the College to the present 
time, (1863,) the number of years they have been continued, 
the number of changes of incumbents, and the years when 
only isolated instruction was enjoyed : 


1. Divinity, Moral Philosophy and Metaphysics, from 1821 to 
1835 : change of incumbents in 1823. 

2. Mathematics and Natural Philosophy, from 1821 to 18C3 : 
change of incumbents in 1825, 1829, 1833, and 1834. 

3. Latin and Greek Languages, 1821 to 1825, and 1833 to 1847 : 
change of incumbents in 1824, 1825, 1833, and 1836. 

4. Oriental Literature, from 1821 to 1828. (No instruction.) 

5. Greek Language and Literature, and Belles Lettres, 1825 to 

G. Latin and Hebrew, 1825 to 1833. 

7. Rhetoric and Oratory, 1825 to 1863 : change of incumbents in 
1835, 1838, 1844, 1853 and 1856. 

7. Chemistry and Natural History, 1825 to 18G3 : change of 
iticumbents in 1845 and 1852. 

8. Divinity, 1835 to 1845. 

9. Intellectual and Moral Philosophy, 1835 to 1863: change of 
incumbents in 1836, 1847, 1850, and 1858. 

10. Natural Theology and Geology, 1845 to 1863. 

11. Greek and Hebrew Language and Literature, 1847 to 1863. 

12. Latin and Modern Languages, 1847 to 1854 : change of incum 
bent in 1850. 

13. Latin Language and Literature, 1858 to 1863. 

14. Zodlogy and Astronomy, 1847 to 1852. 

15. Chemistry, Botany and Zoology, 1852 to 1858. 


16. Analytical Chemistry, 1854 to 1856. 

17. Moral and Christian Science, 1854 to 1863. 

18. History, 1855 to 1858. 

19. Botany, 1858 to 1863. 

20. Hygiene and Physical Education, 1860 to 1863 : change of 
incumbent in 1861. 


1. Latin and Greek, 1824 and 1825, and 1844 and 1846: change 
of incumbents in 1825 and 1844. 

2. Mathematics, 1827 to 1829, 1859 to 1860, 1862 to 1863 : change 
of incumbents in 1859 and 1862. 

3. Rhetoric and Oratory, insulated instruction in 1838. 

4. Modern Languages, 1827 to 1831, 1835 to 1841, 1848 to 1850, 
and 1854 : change of incumbents in 1828, 1831, 1835, 1841, 1848, 
1849, 1850, and 1854. Insulated instruction in 1854. 

5. Oriental Literature, 1852 to 1857. 

6. Agriculture, 1852 to 1856. 

7. Latin and French, 1855 to 1858, 1858 to 1863 : change of incum 
bent in 1858. 

8. German, 1858 to 1863. 

9. Greek, 1859 to 1863. 

10. French, 1862 to 1863. 

11. Number of Tutors. In the years 1821, 1824, 1825, 1827, 
1828, 1829, 1830, 1838, 1844, 1847, 1853, 1854, 1860, and 1861, one 
Tutor. In 1822, 1823, 1830, 1834, 1836, 1839, 1841, 1842, 1846, 
1847, 1851, 1852, 1857, 1858, 1862, two Tutors. In 1833, 1835, 1837, 
1849, 1855 and 1856, three Tutors. In 1832, four Tutors. 


1. Political Economy. Insulated course in 1832 and 1835, 1852 
and 1853, 1860 to 1863: change of incumbent in 1835, 1852. 

2. Anatomy. Insulated course in 1835, 1836 to 1861, 1861 to 1863 : 
change of incumbent in 1836 and 1861. 

3. History, 1854 and 1855, 1858 to 1863. < 

4. Zoology, 1858 to 1863. 

But though this table shows the Professorships, it does not 
show who filled them. I therefore add another table showin^ 


who were the incumbents, and how long each one has labored, 
whether in one, two or more capacities, up to the year 1863-4, 
or during the first forty-two years of the College : 






As Professor. 

As Instructor. 

As Tutor. 



Z.S.Moore, . . . . . _ * 
IT. Humphrey, 








G. S. Olds, 
J. Abbott, 





T. Hovev 
E. S. Snell, 






N. W. Fiske, 
William S Tyler .... 








Samuel M. Worcester, .... 
Jonathan B. Condit, .... 
William G. Fowler, .... 








James G. Vose, 
Charles U. Shepard, .... 









William A. Peabody, .... 






Edward P. Crowell, .... 
Charles B. Adams, 








Edward Tuckerman, .... 
Edward Hitchcock, Jr., . . . 









James Humphrey, 
Charles Holler, 
Ernest Hovel, 





Victor Manget 
Edward P. le Prohou, . . . * <i 
Jabez B. Lyman, 
Augustus wimmer, .... 












George Rowland, 
William L. Montague, .... 
Richard H. Mather, . 






Lucius Field, 
William S. Burt, . . . . . 
Elijah L.Coe, 
.Zenas Clapp, 








As President. 

As Professor. 

As Instructor. 

AB Tutor. 

As Lecturer. 


Joseph S. Clark 





William P. Paine, 






Story Hebard, 






Horace B. Hackett, .... 
Justin Perkins, ..... 
Timothy DwSght, 
Edward P. Humphrey, .... 
Ebenezer Burgess, . . . . . 
Elbridge Bradbury, .... 
Thatcher Thayer, . . . . . 
Wellington H. Tyler, .... 











Calvin E. Park, ..... 











George C. Partridge, .... 






Clinton Clark, 








Jesse G. D. Stearns, .... 
Roswell D. Hitchcock, . . . 
Charles E. Washburn, .... 
Thomas S. Miller, 
Henry M. Spofford, .... 










David Torrey, .... 








Erancis A. March, 
Albert Tolman, 
Leonard Humphrey, .... 
William HowJand, ..... 
Henry L. Edwards, .... 
William C. Dickinson, .... 
John M. Emerson, ..... 
Samuel Fiske, 
John E. Sanford, 
George N. Webber, .... 
Reuben M. Benjamin, .... 
John M. Greene, ..... 






Edmund M. Pease, ..... 
Asa S. Fisk, 
L. S. Rowland, 






John Averj-, 
Samuel C. Allen, ..... 





Alfred Post, 
Charles H. Hitchcock, .... 
Amasa Walker, . . . . 







After all, the preceding tables, without some explanation, 
will convey some erroneous ideas as to the instruction that has 
been given in the College. Thus by looking at the names of 
Jonas King and James L. Merrick, we should suppose that 
the College had enjoyed eleven years of instruction in Oriental 
Literature from highly competent officers. Whereas, in fact, 
about half a dozen lectures by Mr. Merrick, delivered only 
once, constituted the whole. But as the names of these gentle 
men were continued on the catalogues many years, they were 
transferred to the Triennial. So Professor Gridley never 
joined the College. Professor J. A. Nash, I believe, never 
gave any instruction on Agriculture ; nor Hon. W. B. Calhoun 
more than one course on Political Economy ; nor Dr. Post 
but one course on Anatomy. With these exceptions all the 
services represented on the above schedule have been actually 
performed. But in several cases the instruction given by 
gentlemen occupied but a small part of the year, and they 
were absent from the town most of the time. 

The statistics of instruction would be incomplete without 
giving some idea of the manner in which the time of the classes 
is apportioned to the different departments. 

Not until within a few years has it been customary to give 
on the annual catalogue a tabular view of the College exer 
cises, and therefore accurate comparison between the present 
and the past is not possible. But I will try to put into an 
arithmetical form the distribution of the studies in 1862-3. 

It should be stated that all the tutors and most of the 
instructors have given their aid exclusively, with the exception 
of some aid to the Rhetoric, to the departments of Mathematics 
or the Languages. No extra assistance has ever been given 
by them to the department of Metaphysics, Chemistry or 
Natural History I mean in the way of instruction. 

In the academical year 1862-3, were thirty-eight weeks of 
term time. There are three exercises upon five days of the 
week, and two exercises upon the sixth day. Sometimes two 
lectures take the place of one exercise. In such case, in the 



following estimate they are ranked as one. The number of 
exercises in the several departments are given precisely as in 
the catalogue, without any allowance for examinations and 
holidays. The total number of exercises in the whole course 
amounts to 2,508. 

Freshman Year. 
Greek, . . 

. 203 

Sophomore Year. 
Greek, . * * * * 


Latin, . . . 

. 179 

Latin, * - . 


Rhetoric, . 
Paley, . . : 

. 1GO 
. 70 

Mathematics and Physics, . 
Rhetoric, . 
Chemistry, . . 



Eschenberg, . ,. 
Mineralogy, . 

Junior Year. 


. 190 

Physiology, , ; - - % r * 
Modern Languages, ..: . ^ 
History, . . . * 

Senior Year. 
Mental and Moral Philoso- 



Greek, .. .. . 

. 156 

9 04- 

Rhetoric, . 
Modern Languages, . 
Latin, . . r , , 

. 94 

. 76 

. 72 

Geology, . >.-,< . 
Constitutional Law, . , 
History, ... , ; . , , 
Butler s Analogy 


Biblical Literature, . 

. 24 


Rhetoric, * * , , 
Elective Studies, * : , 
Mineralogy, . 
Natural Theology, 
Political Science, . 
Zoology, . . , . . 
Bible Lectures, . . . 



Adding the above numbers together for the different depart 
ments, and they will stand as follows, showing the amount 
of time devoted to each department : 

Mathematics, (273) and 

Physics, (226), . . 499 

Greek, . . . . 471 

Latin, ; . " , 394 

Rhetoric and Oratory, . 304 
Mental and Moral Philoso 
phy, including Constitu 
tional Law, . . .258 



Modern Languages, . . 128 
History, (including Eschen- 

berg), .... 83 
Chemistry, . ... .58 
Geology, ... . 57 
Butler s Analogy, . . 48 
Elective Studies, . . 36 
Mineralogy, . . . 36 
Natural Theology, (includ 
ing Paley,) ... 34 

Biblical Studies, 
Botany, . . . . 
Physiology, (exclud g gym 
nastic exercises,) . 
Political Science, 
Zoology, . . . 



. 12 
. 11 


It may give a clear idea of the relative attention given to 
the different branches, if I assume 100 as the whole amount 
of exercises, and then the portion of time given to each will 
be as follows : 

Mathematics, (10.88,) and 
Physics, (9.01,) . 
Greek, .... 


18 77 

Butler s Analogy, . 
Elective Studies, 
Mineralogy, . . 

. 1.83 
. 1.43 

Latin, .... 
Rhetoric and Oratory, . 
Mental and Moral Philos 
ophy, .... 
Modern Languages, * 
History, . . . . 



Natural Theology, . 
Biblical Studies, 
Botany, . .. ,. 
Political Science, . 

. 1.35 
. 1.31 
. 1.11 

Chemistry, . . . 
Geology, . . . , 



It would be interesting, could I state the division of the time 
of instruction among the different departments in the earlier 
periods of the College. But no proper data remain. I can 
only remember that when I had charge of Chemistry and 
Natural History, about four exercises per week were allowed 
me which is scarcely less than the time now given to these 
subjects, although since that time they have prodigiously 
expanded and become much more important. In all the 
other branches the standard of scholarship is greatly raised. 
This is particularly manifest in Greek and Latin, of which 
students now have more knowledge at the close of Freshman 
year than formerly at the end of the course. 


The first list of the courses of lectures delivered in College 
given in the catalogue for 1826, is as follows : 

1. Chemistry. 
2. Mineralogy. 
3. Botany. 
4. Geology. 

5. Natural Philosophy. 
G. Greek Literature. 
7. Roman Literature. 
8. Rhetoric and Oratory. 

The corresponding list for 1863 is as follows : 

1. Rhetoric and English Lit 

2. Classical Literature. 
3. Natural Philosophy. 
4. Mental Philosophy. 
5. Moral Philosophy. 
6. History of Philosophy. 
7. Biblical Theology. 

9. Public Economy. 
10. Chemistry. 
11. Anatomy and Physiology. 
12. Zoology. 
13. Botany. 
14. Mineralogy. 
15. Geology. 
16. History. 

8. Natural Theology. 


In no way is the progress of the College more distinctly 
marked than by the additions to its public buildings. Fortu 
nately the means are at hand for showing this progress, not 
only by description, but by pictorial representations. My 
oldest daughter (Mary,) a few years ago got hold of two 
views of the College, one taken in 1821 and the other in 1824,* 
which, though rudely sketched, she was able to bring into the 
octavo form to correspond with those that appeared later in 
the annual catalogues. These views were taken from the 
south-west, as were all the subsequent ones, for this is the 
only point from which all the buildings can be seen, except 
the gymnasium. For they all front the west or south-west. 
Hence photographers have chosen the hill on Mr. George 
Baker s farm, from which they took the sketch that appeared 
in the catalogue of 1847 and that also which appeared in 

* The view taken in 1821 forms the frontispiece ; that in 1824 we insert in 
this place. A more recent one will be given farther on. 


1858. The gymnasium being on the north-east side of the 
College grounds and on a lower level, is hidden by the other 

The first building erected in 1820 was the present South 
College, a dormitory building 100 feet long and four stories 
high, containing thirty-two rooms, each intended to accommo 
date two students. It was built by subscription and in little 
more than three months. Hence it is without architectural 
ornament. Indeed I doubt whether any architect of judgment 
and taste was consulted. This was unfortunate, as the pattern 
thus started was followed for the two next dormitory buildings 
and the College Chapel. Hence they form an unsightly row 
of brick and mortar mere hollow parallelepipeds divided 
into compartments called rooms. Had some architectural 
taste been exhibited in the first building, it would have been 
copied, and almost without any additional expense. But to 
prepare men for the Christian ministry was the grand object, 
and every thing not essential to this was conscientiously 
avoided. It was not till the erection of the Woods Cabinet 
in 1848, that an exhibition of good taste in the buildings 
where young men are educated, was thought promotive of the 
main object instead of needless waste. 

In 1822 a second dormitory building was erected north of 
the first one, and of the same size, leaving space between them 
for a chapel. It is the present North College, but for many 
years on the catalogues it is called Middle College ; a third 
one having subsequently been erected (in 1828) farther north. 

Both in the sketch of 1821 and that of 1824, the meeting 
house of Amherst West Parish is seen upon the left considerably 
north-west of the College, and the hill between them is repre 
sented as continuous. So it then was ; but some years after 
wards the deep valley that now exists between the site of the 
church and the colleges was excavated, in order to form a 
terrace in front of the South College. The meeting-house was 
taken down in 1829, after a new one (that now existing) had 
been built on the west side of the street. This also was con- 


structed with such a sad want of taste, that it has e^er been a 
byeword and a butt of ridicule. 

On the sketch of 1824 may be seen in front of the colleges 
a small pyramidal structure, say fifteen feet high, in which the 
College bell was placed. I recollect this to be standing in 
1825. But it was too tempting an object to unruly students, 
who at length capsized it, and whether it was ever restored to 
its normal position I have forgotten. I have forgotten, too, 
why the meeting-house bell was not used for College purposes. 
Probably, however, there were objections in the parish, as it 
is well known that many citizens of Amherst were strongly 
opposed to the College. 

In 1826 and 1827 the chapel building was erected, so called 
because the chapel room is the largest. But it was intended 
to embrace nearly all the public rooms essential to a college, 
the lecture and recitation rooms a philosophical cabinet a 
laboratory and a natural history ^cabinet, and a library. All 
these rooms, not less than ten or twelve, it contained. But in 
subsequent years some of the departments found the accom 
modations inconvenient or too narrow, and sought better 
quarters. This gave opportunity for multiplying the lecture 
and recitation rooms, and for providing a side chapel of 
sufficient size to contain all college at prayers or evening, 
religious, and other meetings. It was unfortunate, however, 
that the plan of the building did not pass under the eye of 
some competent and responsible architect. 

The means of erecting this building were obtained in part 
from a legacy left by Adam Johnson, of Pelham, the condition 
of which was that the chapel should bear his name. It seems 
that his will was at first set aside by the judge of probate, but 
the College went into a litigation on the points, and got that 
decision reversed. Yet the expenses reduced the legacy so 
that $4,000 only was received, and the Trustees, in 1828, "in 
testimony of their grateful remembrance of the munificent 
donation," voted " that the apartment in said building occupied 
as a chapel shall hereafter forever be called Johnson Chapel; 


and that the words JOHNSON CHAPEL be inscribed in large and 
distinct characters over the middle door or principal entrance 
of the apartment aforesaid." The remainder of the funds, 
certainly not less than $11,000, were borrowed or subscribed. 

The Trustees appointed a committee as early as 1825, " to 
advertise for proposals for the erection of a chapel and another 
college building of the same dimensions with those now exist 
ing." The chapel was built, as we have stated, in 182G, but 
the dormitory building not till the early part of 1828, and then 
only by increasing the college debt. The accommodations 
being now provided for nearly two hundred students, the 
Trustees did not feel constrained to erect any more edifices 
for several years, as they began to feel heavily the pressure 
of debt. They did, however,. in 1834, make a movement to 
erect another on the south border of the hill corresponding to 
North College, which stood on lower ground, and its largest 
diameter at right angles to the general front. The ground on 
the south side was graded to the same level, but no hall or 
dormitory building was ever erected there. 

The first President s house was built in 1820, and was 
occupied first by Dr. Moore, while he lived, and then by 
Dr. Humphrey, till 1833, when a movement was made by the 
Trustees to erect a new President s house on the top of the 
hill opposite the College, and to sell the old one. It was 
hoped that enough might be realized from this sale and from 
some old and rather doubtful subscriptions, to make $5,000, 
which was the estimated cost of the new house. An impres 
sion was wide-spread in consequence of some sickness in 
Dr. Humphrey s family, that the old house was damp and 
unhealthy, and one of the more ardent of the Trustees said 
in the meeting, " Gentlemen, you must either build a new 
house for your President, or lay him and his family in yonder 
graveyard." This argument was conclusive, and during 1834 
and 35 the house was built, not by contract, but by days 
works, and the consequence was, that when the bills were all 
in, they amounted to about $9,000. I happened to preside 


at tlie meeting of the Trustees in 1835, during Dr. Hum 
phrey s absence in Europe, when these bills were presented, 
and I noticed that nobody could be found who felt a responsi 
bility for such large bills. The old house was sold to Profes 
sor Fowler, for about $2,500, leaving an additional debt upon 
the College of $6,000 or $7,000. The new house is indeed 
large, commodious, and in good architectural proportions. But 
in my judgment its location is not near as good for a Presi 
dent s house as that of the old one. It is too near the Col 
lege, and overlooks it too much, and is too much overlooked 
by the College. For a President should not be obliged to see 
every small impropriety of students, because he must notice 
them all ; and this will be apt to awaken prejudices against 
him. The old house was much better situated, and Professor 
Fowler, by furring out the walls, made it perfectly dry and 
healthy. I have, therefore, always regarded the building of 
this new house as unfortunate, although done from the very 
best of motives. It threw a great weight into the wrong 
scale of the pecuniary affairs of the College, already far too 
much depressed. 

Soon after this time a reverse began to come over the Col 
lege. Its debts pressed heavily, the public became nervous 
under such incessant demands for aid, and the number of stu 
dents rapidly diminished, thus rendering outward assistance 
more necessary. Hence the struggle was for existence rather 
than the erection of new buildings, and it was not till the ship 
had reached the bottom of the gulf and began to rise on a new 
wave, that another new edifice was thought of. As I had the 
principal concern in getting up this, I desire to say that I 
proceeded on an entirely different principle from that which 
seems previously to have governed. My principle was never 
to take one step towards the actual erection of a public edifice 
till the entire funds were in our hands. In all the buildings 


which I was the means of erecting subsequently I acted on this 
principle, and am satisfied that it is the true one, both pruden- 
tially and religiously. Its importance and the contrary prac- 


tice of so many excellent men may lead me to recur to it again 
in another connection. 

Soon after I entered upon the Presidency of the College, 
say near the end of 1845 or the beginning of 1846, the plan 
entered my mind of attempting to raise money to build a 
Cabinet. I was stimulated also by the offer of Professor C. IT. 
Shepard to deposit his collections here if a good building were 
provided. I went to Boston to make a preliminary effort, but 
without much success. On my return, however, I met Hon. 
Josiah B. Woods, of Enfield, who expressed a conviction that 
he could obtain the means for such an object, and I persuaded 
him to attempt it. He did succeed so well that the Trustees at 
commencement in August, 1846, voted to erect "a fire proof 
building for a cabinet of Natural History and an Astronomical 
Observatory." This was done in 1847, at an expense of 
$9,000, constituting the present Woods Cabinet and Lawrence 
Observatory, to which two other buildings have since been 
attached. It was completed and nearly filled with specimens, 
so as to be publicly dedicated June 28th, 1848. That occa 
sion, however, was not simply a dedication of the new building^ 
for a little before that time other gratifying changes had taken 
place in the condition of the College so great that the Trustees 
felt as if some public recognition of the blessings was proper, 
and they chose this occasion, giving a general invitation to the 
benefactors of the College to be present. The prominent ones 
were there, either by letter or in propria persona, and many 
interesting addresses full of valuable reminiscences were made. 
The principal one was by Hon. William B. Calhoun, and was 
an admirable performance. 

The architect of this building was Henry A. Sykes, Esq., 
of Springfield, a man of consistent piety, of good taste, and 
thorough acquaintance with his profession. I said to him, I 
want you should make both the Cabinet and the Observatory 
octagonal, and of such dimensions as you can with the money 
we have on hand, taking care not to leave us a cent in debt. 
Adapt the building to the shape, size, and position of the hill, 


and give it such a form that other buildings can be added to 
it hereafter, without marring the plan. When it was finished, 
some of our good friends who had never seen the architecture 
of Europe, were greatly scandalized because the building had 
so many angles, and its longer axis or front was not perpen 
dicular to the face of the row of buildings behind, but quite 
oblique, conforming to the crest of the hill. But gentlemen 
who have studied the architecture of Europe, and the effect 
of form and position, have again and again expressed to me 
their admiration of this building in connection with its sur 
roundings. Nor will future additions to this pile detract from 
its harmony and beauty, if made by a skilful architect. This 
is the first building on the College Hill that showed any thing 
like architectural symmetry and effect, except the President s 
house. It is no wonder that it should greatly disturb the 
ideas of a man whose highest notion of architectural beauty 
is a right angle and a parallelepiped. 

The improved condition of the College gave new impulse 
to its friends to attempt the improvement of its various depart 
ments. Among other wants those of the Library attracted 
particular attention. As early as 1844, Hon. David Sears 
made an effort to meet this want, by establishing the Sears 
Foundation of Literature and Benevolence, and though for 
the present its income is not large, yet it requires $120 to be 
annually expended in the purchase of books. John Tappan, 
Esq., also gave $1,000 about the same time, for the purchase 
of books. But the germ of the greatest effort made for this 
object, I find in an informal meeting of a few friends of the 
College from Salem, (Judges Perkins and Huntington, and 
Richard P. Waters, Esq.,) in order to start a subscription. 
I know not whether George Merriam, Esq., knew of this 
effort, when, about the same time, he subscribed $1,500 for 
the same object. Professor B. B. Edwards seized upon this 
offer, and brought the subject before the Trustees in 1850, 
who directed an effort to be made to procure means for erect 
ing a library building and increasing the number of books. 


Professors Tyler and Jewett acted as agents, and when $15,000 
were procured, $10,000 were devoted to the building. It was 
planned by Mr. Sykes, begun in 1852, and completed and 
dedicated in 1853, when an Address was delivered by 
Professor E. A. Park. A sketch of it was given in the 
Annual Catalogue for 1852. It was built entirely of the 
beautiful, unhewn gneiss of Pelham. This was the first time 
such a use was made of this stone ; but it was subsequently 
employed by Professor Tuckerman, in building his elegant 
private mansion, and still more recently in the Gymnasium. 

As to the location of the Library, there was a diversity of 
opinion. The two places selected by different parties were 
that on which the Library now stands, which was the site 
of the residence of Rev. Dr. David Parsons, formerly pastor 
of the village church, and the other a spot north-east of the 
Woods Cabinet, towards Williston Hall. Professor B. 13. 
Edwards, who had taken a prominent part in the whole 
enterprise, was decidedly in favor of the Parsons place. But 
unfortunately the Trustees had sold it, and could not repur 
chase it but at a very high price. Yet Dr. Edwards would 
have it done. Says he, in a private letter, " You will pardon 
my zeal in this matter. I have taken a deep interest in the 
Library and in the Library building, and have had my heart 
set on living to see a neat and tasteful edifice on the Parsons 
estate, the only good locality. Better give two thousand 
dollars for that property and invest the money subscribed for 
a building till the lot would be paid for in that way." Per 
sonally I felt no strong bias on this question, though I saw 
that Professor Edwards view was probably the true one, and 
I felt that great deference was due to one who had been as it 
were the soul of the whole enterprise. It was finally settled 
in entire accordance with Professor Edwards opinions, and no 
one I presume could now be found who would not acknowl 
edge that the location is admirable, and that any other spot 
would have been a great mistake. 


Though the new Cabinet and the old one in the College 
Chapel building afforded room for very many specimens, yet 
some of the collections appeared to great disadvantage some 
of them were placed in different rooms, and all in the chapel 
were peculiarly exposed to fire. Besides, some of the foot 
mark specimens were too large for any of our rooms, and I 
felt a strong desire to see some new and enlarged means for 
arranging the collections. About that time Hon. Samuel 
Appleton died and left $200,000 to be disposed of by bis 
executors for benevolent and scientific objects. Possibly this 
might be such an object as he had in mind. I therefore 
addressed the following letter to the executors : 

" AMIIERST, Nov. 25th, 1853. 

"To the Hon. NATHAN APPLETON and the other Executors of the 
Will of the late Hon. Samuel Appleton : 

" GENTLEMEN, I have hesitated long before addressing you, lest 
I should seem an unwelcome intruder. But at length I venture to 
lay before you the following statement as briefly as possible. 

"From several quarters I have learnt that the late Hon. Samuel 
Appleton has left in your hands a large legacy to be appropriated to 
objects of benevolence, of science, &c. I would fain hope that the 
following case may have some claims upon your consideration. 

" tVhen the late Professor C. B. Adams became an instructor in 
Amherst College, he presented it with a large collection in Zoology, 
especially of shells, whose value he then estimated (in 1847) at five 
thousand dollars. From that time to the day of his death, he labored 
indefatigably and under most favorable circumstances, to increase 
the collection, so that they now contain 400 species of vertebrated 
animals, 5,000 species of articulated animals, 8, 000 species of shells, 
and 200 species of radiated animals. They are put up in cases 
and arranged in a very superior manner for exhibition and study. 
Of shells I believe this is regarded by eminent naturalists as the 
finest in the United States ; and I saw but few in Europe superior. 
It now occupies three rooms in our chapel building. This building 
contains, also, a chapel room, a chemical laboratory, and four reci 
tation and lecture rooms ; so that in fact it is more exposed to be 
burnt down than almost any building that I know of. Besides, the 
rooms are widely separated from one another, and are poorly 
adapted to an exhibition of the specimens so as to make them 
accessible to scientific gentlemen. 


" Now what we want is a Zoological Cabinet, essentially fire-proof, 
and separated from all buildings exposed to fire ; large enough to 
contain all the collections in one room, with a lecture room attached. 
We have an admirable site for such a building, near the spot where 
stands the Lawrence Observatory, and the Woods Cabinet. 
Moreover, I know of a gentleman who will give two thousand 
dollars towards such an object, and allow any other person, who M ill 
supply the other four or five thousand dollars necessary, to attach 
his name to the edifice. I should hope, after conversing with an 
architect, that $G,000, and certainly that $7,000 would be sufficient for 
the purpose. And my suggestion is, whether this may not be such 
an object as Mr. Appleton had in view when he made his noble 
legacy. He was, while living, a benefactor to Amherst College, 
having given $500 to the library just erected, and $500 to com 
mence the endowment of an Agricultural Professorship. But it is 
not simply or mainly as a benefaction to the College, that I venture 
to ask for such a donation. It is in behalf of the cause of science 
generally in this country. Whenever large collections of natural 
objects of any kind have been made in our country, at great sacri 
fice of time and money, (this has cost nearly twenty years of hard 
work,) it is very desirable that they should be safely preserved and 
placed in a situation favorable for the inspection of gentlemen of 
science. The College is unable at present to do this ; having only 
the funds necessary to carry forward the ordinary course of instruc 
tion. How appropriate that a name so honored as that of Appleton, 
should be placed upon an edifice erected for such a purpose ! 

"I beg leave to state another consideration. I have now been 
nearly twenty years engaged in collecting fossil footmarks, and have 
just presented the whole (value from $2,000 to $3,000.) to the Col 
lege. As a consequence, the friends of science have furnished me 
with nearly an equal sum, with which to purchase new specimens. 
This has been done to a large extent. But my geological cabinet is 
entirely full, and it needs a whole room devoted to the footmarks. 
They are now scattered in various rooms, and out of doors. If 
brought together they would form a point of great interest to scien 
tific men. Such a room might easily be provided in the basement 
story of a Zoological Cabinet, with almost no increase of expense. 

" Being desirous of presenting other testimony than my opinion 
to the importance of this object to the cause of science, I requested 
that of Prof. Agassiz and Dr. Augustus A. Gould, gentlemen well 
acquainted with our Cabinet and eminently qualified to judge of its 


value. Extracts from their answers I enclose; and beg leave to 
subscribe myself, 

" With high respect, your obedient servant, 


This letter was dated Nov. 23, 1853, and though I learned 
that it was looked upon favorably, I received no definite 
answer till Nov. 21st, 1854, the day before I left the Presi 
dency. Then it appeared that the trustees on the estate had 
exceeded my request, and appropriated $10,000 to the erec 
tion of an APPLETON ZOOLOGICAL CABINET. Mr. Williston, 
Professor Clark and myself, were appointed a committee to 
have charge of its construction and erection, and we employed 
Mr. Sykes as the architect. The trustees on the estate were 
Hon. Nathan Appleton, Hon. William Appleton and N. I. 
Bowditch, Esq., gentlemen well known for their enlarged 
appreciation of objects of public utility. 

The Appleton Cabinet was erected in 1855, and is one 
hundred and ten feet long and forty-five feet wide, two stories 
high, with a lecture room over thirty feet square attached. 
The lower room is an Ichnological and the upper a Zoological 
Cabinet. As the lower room has brick walls and a floor of 
cement, except the side rooms, it is as near a fire proof build 
ing as is consistent with the presence of wooden cases, espe 
cially in the upper room, and a wooden floor. It has also a 
wooden cornice, which might take fire if the college building 
north of it were to burn. I have urged the Trustees to guard 
some of these points more carefully, as might be done with 
little expense, and I hope it may yet be done. 

Originally it was intended that this Cabinet should be 
placed on the west side of the Woods Cabinet, where danger 
from fire would have been much less. The building commit 
tee agreed upon this spot, but their opinion was overruled by 
that of the prudential committee, or at least some of them, on 
the ground that the appearance would be unsightly. I plead 
for that place as the site, because I wanted the lecture room 
near where the cabinet of specimens is. Luke Sweetser said 


if that was a point of great importance he would attach a 
lecture room to the Woods Cabinet, if it could be done for 
$1,000. On that ground I yielded my objections, and the 
Appleton Cabinet was located on the south wing of the dor 
mitories, though none of us then thought, I presume, that it 
would there be more exposed to fire. Thus the change of 
location was the means of the erection of the Geological 
Lecture Room. 

I know I shall be believed, when I speak of the high grat 
ification I experienced in being able to announce the success 
ful termination of my efforts to erect this Cabinet, in my 
Valedictory Address, on leaving the Presidency. In that 
address I had written thus : " To secure a new building to 
receive the Zoological collection, with the still more exposed 
collection of fossil footmarks, has long been with me an 
object of strong desire and efforts ; and it is among the deep 
est of my regrets on leaving the Presidency that it remains 
unaccomplished." The scenes of such an occasion, borne 
down as I was by wretched health, would be of course sad 
dening. But how kind in Providence to send me as some 
offset the news of my success in this enterprise only a few 
hours before I was formally to leave the Presidency, that I 
might announce it in a postscript ! And then by continuing 
my connection with the College, I could have the almost 
entire control and superintendence of the new building, so as 
to plan it according to my wishes and judgment. We made 
up our minds, for the sake of securing as much room as possi 
ble, to expend the ten thousand dollars in the building alone, 
leaving the cases and other fixtures to be otherwise provided 
for. In the lower room these were so simple as to cost but 
little, and in the upper room, Hon. S. Williston provided, at 
no small expense, for the wall cases, while the horizontal ones 
had already been prepared by the College, as one of the con 
ditions on which Professor Adams presented his collections to 
the institution. The other expenses of this Cabinet will be 
noticed in another place. 


The Geological Lecture Room, already referred to, was 
erected rather late in the autumn of 1855. Mr. Sweetser 
declined having his name affixed to it. 

The Nineveh Gallery, like the Appleton Cabinet, was built 
by individual liberality. In another place I shall describe the 
manner in which the articles it contains were obtained. But 
their multiplication rendered some distinct rendezvous impor 
tant. My mind was turned towards Enos Dickinson, Esq., 
of South Amherst, whom I had long known as an industrious 
and substantial farmer, of superior intelligence and sound judg 
ment, of firm and consistent piety, and liberal in his benefactions. 
It so happened that the spot where I wanted to erect the 
Nineveh Gallery was the site of the old church where for thirty 
years he had attended meeting, where he was baptized and 
made a profession of religion, and he remarked that if he 
should desire to leave his name any where on earth that would 
be the spot. He also appreciated the object, and erected the 
Gallery in 1857, at an expense, including the frescoes, of $567. 
It is attached to the Woods Cabinet, and though a small 
room, it is probably as large as the original passage in the 
palace of Nimroud from which the sculptured slabs were 
taken. A marble slab on the outside contains the inscription, 
THE DICKINSON NINEVEH GALLERY, and another slab on the 
inside the names of all the donors to the Gallery. Similar 
slabs have been placed upon and within all the rooms of the 
Cabinets, both to give a name for each to the visitor, and to 
let posterity know to whom we are indebted for the means of 
filling them with specimens, in the hope that others in time to 
come may be stimulated to go and do likewise. I know that 
some benevolent men feel a little sensitive at having their 
beneficence thus engraved in marble. But for such an object 
and with the view of thus doing a double good with their money, 
why should they be reluctant to have the simple facts stated ? 

Our next public buildings were the result of a calamity. In 
the winter of 1857, the North College was destroyed by fire, 
the result of carelessness in a student s room. Hon. Samuel 


"Williston at once offered to place upon its site an edifice three 
stories high, eighty feet by forty, the lower story of which 
should be a chemical laboratory ; the second story rooms for 
two literary societies, and the upper story an alumnus hall, at 
an expense of about $15,000, provided the Trustees would 
at once proceed to erect a new dormitory building at the same 
cost. The Trustees accepted the offer and the two buildings 
were erected that season, viz., in 1857, the same season as the 
Nineveh Gallery. The former were formally dedicated the 
next year with an address by Rev. H. W. Beecher. There 
was an insurance of $5,000 only on the building burnt, and 
towards $5,000 more were obtained by subscription. For the 
third $5,000 the College had to resort to borrowing. The 
new dormitory contains forty-eight rooms and occupies a 
commanding site on the east side of the college grounds. 
The other building was called and is labelled WILLISTON HALL, 
and its architectural proportions are very fine. With this 
building on the north and the Appleton Cabinet on the south, 
the long, unornamented, cheerless row of intervening buildings 
is greatly relieved. The architect of Williston Hall was 
Charles E. Parkes, of Boston. The new dormitory building 
and the gymnasium were also planned by him, according to 
correct architectural rules. 

Only one other public building remains to be described, and 
that is the gymnasium, seventy feet by fifty, built of unhewn 
Pelham gneiss. It is massive in appearance, without much 
architectural beauty, though in conformity with architectural 
rules. It was built in the autumn of 1859, so for as it could 
be, and the mortar froze badly. But the walls will probably 
stand many years, even if there be no adhesive power in the 
mortar. The expense also was much increased by the 
attempt to complete the building in 1859. Hence what might 
have been built for $8,000 or $9,000, cost $10,000, and its 
completion was delayed till the autumn of 1860, after all. 
The largest subscription was by Dr. Benjamin Barrett, of 
Northampton, viz., $1,000, and hence the building is called 


the BARRETT GYMNASIUM. Subscriptions were obtained by 
Professor TV. S. Clark, Professor W. S. Tyler, and some others, 
to the amount of about $5,000. For the other $5,000 the 
College resorted again to borrowing. It has been the means, 
however, of introducing a new department into the College, 
which has been called that of Hygiene and Physical Education, 
and which promises to be decidedly useful. 

Let me now present a recapitulation of the public buildings 
that have been erected by Amherst College, as to their date 
and cost. 

1820. The first President s House cost, ... .say $4,000 00 

1820. South College (Dormitory,) cost, . . 10,00000 

1822. Middle College, present North College, . . 10,000 00 

1827. Chapel Building, 15,000-00 

1828. North College, 10,000 00 

1834. New President s House, 9,000 00 

1847. Wood s Cabinet and Lawrence Observatory, . 9,000 00 

1853. Library Building, . .- . . .. , 10,00000 

1855. Appleton Cabinet, . . . . . . . . 10,00000 

1855. Geological Lecture Boom, . . . .... ;: . , 1,000 00 

1857. Nineveh Gallery, . , ..... f 567 00 

1857. Williston Hall, ., . ... . . 15,00000 

1857. East College, . . . ., , . . 15,00000 

I860. Barrett Gymnasium and fixtures, . . . 15,00000 

$133,567 00 

It thus appears that over $130,000 have been expended 
for the public buildings of this institution, all but one of which 
(North College) are now standing. The fixtures, such as 
cases, tables, chairs, &c., have probably cost $10,000 more, 
paid partly by the College and partly by individual benefac 
tors, especially Mr. Williston. 

It may not be amiss for me to name the most prominent of those 
mechanics who have erected the College Buildings. Col. Warren 
S. Rowland, a carpenter and joiner, has now labored for the College 
more than forty years. The two President s houses he built by con 
tract, and more recently the Nineveh Gallery, and has had a part in 
almost all the buildings. Mr. Hiram Johnson, a mason, built the 
Chapel and the North College. The more recent buildings the 
Appleton Cabinet, Williston Hall and East College, were put up by 


George P. Shoals, of East Hampton, and the Gymnasium by R. R. 
Myers, of Northampton. The library was built by its architect, 
Henry A. Sykes, on contract. 

Perhaps I ought also to state a few facts in respect to the other lite 
rary institutions that have existed in Amherst. The Academy, from 
which the College sprung, was incorporated in 1816, and has always 
been in operation till within a year or two, when it has been super 
seded by a High School, for which a large and tasteful building has 
been erected a little north of the Gymnasium. The Academy has 
accomplished a good deal, but it was always cramped for the want 
of funds, and it is doubtful whether it will ever be resuscitated. 

In the year 1825, Martin Thayer, Esq., erected an elegant private 
residence on Mount Pleasant, one of the finest spots in New Eng 
land, far finer than its flat name implies. He had not lived there 
more than a year," however, before his amiable wife died, and he 
converted the building into a Seminary by the addition of two large 
wings. Here Messrs. Colton and Fellows, graduates of the College, 
opened a school with a plan analogous to that of the German Gym 
nasia. It flourished for a time wonderfully, and it had as many 
instructors as the College. But, like most similar schools in this 
country, it soon went down because it became top-heavy : that is, an 
influx of students led the proprietors to make more outlays for 
instruction than their means would justify. Subsequently, however, 
the Rev. J. A. Nash maintained a respectable family school in this 
spot, which is continued to the present time by his son, Henry 
C. Nash. Both these gentlemen were graduates of the College. 
Neither the Mount Pleasant Institution, nor the Academy, have 
furnished a large number of recruits for the College, especially of late. 
The fact is, it is not well that students should fit for College in the 
country town where it is located. If they do they are apt to form 
undesirable acquaintances in the College, and to learn so much of it 
that the charm of novelty is broken. Hence I have always advised 
parents, even those who reside in Amherst, who would have their 
sons pass through Amherst College, to send them somewhere else 
for preparation. 

In 18G2, Dr. W. J. Walker offered $20,000, provided others 
would add $20,000 more, for the erection of a new hall devoted to 
the uses of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy. The required 
$20,000 was contributed by several gentlemen, (Williston, Hitch 
cock, etc.,) and at Commencement, in 1863, the Trustees voted to 
proceed at once to the erection of the building, under the name of 
WALKER HALL. They also appropriated $10,000 for remodelling 
and repairing the Johnson Chapel. 




The apparatus in the department of Natural Philosophy, for 
several of the first years of the College, was totally inadequate 
to the wants of the department. But after Professor Hovey 
took the chair of Philosophy, and was about to go to Europe, 
the Trustees in 1830 passed the following resolution: 
"Resolved, That immediate measures be taken to raise the 
sum of three thousand dollars for the purpose of making addi 
tions to the philosophical apparatus, and that Professors Hitch 
cock and Hovey be appointed as agents to procure aid of 
benevolent individuals for this object." I have no very 
distinct recollections about this agency : but somehow or other, 
the money was obtained, and with it Professor Hovey pur 
chased, chiefly in Paris, of Pixii, a large part of the apparatus 
still in use in the philosophical department. Among the rest 
were a fine Transit Instrument and Astronomical Clock, 
which were never mounted till the Astronomical Observatory 
was erected in 1847. A fine apparatus room or cabinet had 
been provided in the chapel building, with a lecture room 
adjoining, and there for over thirty years Professor Snell has 
had a watchful care of the instruments, adding a great many 
others, either by purchase or by his own manufacture, so 
that at present the collection is very complete, containing 
instruments of research as well as demonstration. Among 
the larger instruments added by Professor Snell is a Repeat 
ing Circle and one of Spencer s best Microscopes. It con 
tains also those ingenious instruments of his own contrivance 


and construction for the illustration of waves in air and water 
and the phenomena of polarization. 

At the dedication of the Astronomical Observatory in 1848 
I remarked, that " we should be very faithless and ungrateful 
to doubt that the same Providence which has done so much 
for us the past year will send us a fitting telescope if it be best 
for us to have one, and send it too, just at the right time." In 
my Valedictory Address in 1854 I was enabled to say, "this 
prediction, through the liberality of Hon. Rufus Bullock, has 
been fulfilled ; and a noble telescope has just been placed in 
yonder dome, which through the great skill and indefatigable 
industry of Alvan Clark, Esq., who has constructed it, is one 
of the finest instruments of its size that ever graced an observ 
atory; and its mounting has some important improvements 
never before introduced. In the hands of Mr. Clark it has 
already introduced to the astronomic world two new double 
stars never before recognized ; one of which is probably binary. 
This discovery has already been confirmed and acknowledged 
by one of the most accomplished observers in Great Britain. 
May we not hope that this glass will perform another service 
for science by stirring up some generous heart to endow a 
professorship of astronomy in our College at no distant day ? 
This, certainly, is at present one of the most pressing wants 
of the institution." 

I might add that this prediction or anticipation has also been 
fulfilled by the late donation of Dr. Walker, to endow a 
professorship of mathematics and astronomy. 


I have already given some idea of the state of preparation 
in the College for chemical experiments when I joined it. Not 
only was I obliged to lecture in the fourth story and in a sort 
of chapel, but there were no instruments or ingredients worth 
naming provided by those who preceded me. For four gentle 
men had lectured on that subject before me, viz. : Col. Rufus 
Graves, Professor Olds, Professor Amos Eaton, and a Mr. 









Cotting, who was afterwards appointed State Geologist in 

I must have given at least two fourth story courses of 
lectures. But when the chapel building was erected in 1826, 
an opportunity was presented for fitting up a Laboratory. 
The basement story at the east end was mostly above ground 
with cellar rooms adjoining. I had ample space for a large 
lecture room, apparatus room, and office, and means enough 
were furnished for supplying economically furnaces, cisterns, 
gasometers, and apparatus. The only difficulty was that the 
room was beneath all the others and partially under ground. 
But at that time the idea generally was that such was the 
proper place for a laboratory. Because the chemist eliminates 
many mephitic gases, therefore place him where he cannot get 
them out of his room ; or if they do escape through the ceiling 
they will let all in the rooms above him get a whiff of the 
atmosphere which he is obliged to breathe in concentrated 
purity. Nevertheless, I spent at least a third of my time for 
eighteen years in that laboratory, and found it in most respects 
very convenient. I do not doubt that its dampness and the 
unwholesome gases which I got rid of only by opening the 
doors and windows, have contributed to bring on and aggravate 
those pulmonary and bronchial difficulties that now press so 
heavily upon me, and will soon terminate my days. But 
probably a person in good health need not fear active employ 
ment in such rooms. I have found analytical chemistry to be 
more trying in such a place than the mere preparation for 
lectures, because the former requires such long continued 

When Williston Hall was built, in 1857, the old laboratory 
under the chapel was abandoned and a new one fitted up with 
ample space and with all the fixtures and apparatus found in 
the best furnished laboratories of Europe. Professor W. S. 
Clarke, liberally furnished with means by his father-in-law, 
lion. S. Williston, even went to Germany to procure all he 
deemed important for demonstrative and analytical chemistry. 


Ample provision is made in this laboratory for accommodating 
students in analytical chemistry independent of the lecture 
and apparatus and furnace rooms. With such abundant 
means it will need only chemical ability, industry and perse 
verance to make this laboratory not only an efficient arm of 
the College, but an important means of advancing the science. 
The old laboratory has been converted partly into a recitation 
room, partly into a lecture room for Professor Shepard in 
mineralogy and applied chemistry, and partly into his office 
and apparatus room, and he is quite satisfied with them. 


When I came here, in 1826, a natural history society 
existed among the students, which had begun to bring 
together specimens chiefly in mineralogy, geology and 
mammalogy; but they were too few to be employed in 
lecturing. I therefore took up the business of collecting. I 
had, however, in previous years, obtained a few hundred 
specimens, mostly in mineralogy and geology, and the Trustees 
in 1826 "voted that Professor Hitchcock be requested to 
deposit his private geological cabinet in the Cabinet of the Col 
lege." Previous to this time, I believe, the Natural History 
Society had presented the whole or a part of their collections, so 
that so far as numbers were concerned, our cases looked quite 
respectable. But to one acquainted with natural history, 
probably the larger part would come under the ironical title 
of Jactalites ; that is, specimens to be thrown away. How 
ever they did a very good service so long as no better collec 
tions were near. And it is a fact that some of the ablest 
naturalists who have graduated here, (ex. qr. Shepard and 
Adams,) started in these days of meagre scientific illustration. 
Their fewness led such men to study what we had with more 
attention, and that awakened the desire to see and possess 
more; and in these two facts, conjoined with good native 
talent and scholarship, you have the elements of able nat 


In 1830 I was appointed to make a geological survey of 
Massacliu setts, and this opened a door for the introduction of 
numerous specimens. The Government, indeed, directed that 
a collection of the rocks and minerals of the State of moderate 
size should be collected for each of the colleges. They 
amounted, I believe, in the first survey, to about eight hun 
dred. I also collected four times as many for the State 
Cabinet, and nearly as many for myself. Having deposited 
the latter in the Cabinet, the Trustees, feeling under obliga 
tion to "Williston Seminary, or rather to its founder, presented 
to it the collection of eight hundred specimens. 

Another way which has been a prolific one of increasing 
the Cabinet in all its branches, organic and inorganic, is by 
securing the help of the graduates of the College, especially 
the foreign missionaries. The Zoological Museum has in this 
way been often enriched. But in the Woods Cabinet is a 
collection of rocks and minerals, chiefly from Asia, of more 
than twelve hundred specimens, sent in a great measure by 
missionaries, or by men on missionary ground. Many of these 
specimens possess a special interest from the sacred localities 
from which they came. But they are numerous enough from 
some extensive regions to give a tolerable idea of the geology : 
as for instance, Syria and Palestine, especially Mount Leba 
non, Armenia, and the north-west part of Persia, and the 
Ghaut Mountains of India. They have been sent by the 
following gentlemen : 

Rev. Story Hebard, Syria. 
Rev. Justin Perkins, D. D., Ooroomiah, Persia. 
Rev. Benjamin Schneider, D. D., Boorsa and Aintab. 
Rev. Oliver P. Powers, Central Turkey. 
Rev. Henry J. Van Lennep, D. D., Smyrna and Constan 

Rev. James L. Merrick, Tabreez, Persia. 

Rev. Joel S. Everett, Smyrna. 

Rev. George E. Whiting, Abeih, Mt, Lebanon. 


Rev. Daniel Bliss, Beyroot. 

Rev. Orson P. Allen, Eastern Turkey. 

Rev. David T. Stoddard, Ooroomiah. 

Rev. Henry Lobdell, M. D., Mosul. 

Rev. H. B. Morgan, Antioch. 

Rev. Henry Homes, Constantinople. 

Rev. Pliny Fisk, Palestine. 

Rev. Cyrus Hamlin, D. D., Constantinople. 

Rev. J. I. Robertson, D. D., Greece and Constantinople. 

Rev. Daniel Door, D. D., Ceylon. 

Nathan Ward, M. D., Ceylon. 

Alexander G. Paspati, Constantinople. 

Homan Hallock, Malta and Smyrna. 

Rev. Elijah Bridgman, D. D., Canton, China. 

Rev. Henry Lyman, Sumatra. 

Rev. Ebenezer Burgess, Ahmednuggur and Sattarah. 

Rev. Joseph Goodrich, Sandwich Islands. 

Rev. Ephraim Spaulding, Sandwich Islands. 

Alonzo Chapin, M. D., Sandwich Islands. 

D. I. McGowan, M. D., China, 

The above are all missionaries. Those which follow were 
travellers, mostly on missionary ground : 

Prof. Nathan "W. Fiske, in Greece, Syria and Palestine. 
Prof. Edward Robinson, D. D., in Palestine. 
Prof. Sylvester Hovey, in Italy. 
Prof. J. A. Richards, in Egypt. 

Sixteen of the above missionaries were graduates of 
Amherst College, and from them came the largest amount 
of specimens. Mr. Hebard was a good geologist and 
furnished a large collection of the rocks of Mount Lebanon. 
Mr. Van Lennep, though he did not send so many specimens, 
did send a geological map of the region around Smyrna, his 
native place, and I should have offered it to the scientific 


journals had not the English geologists so recently described 
that region. Mr. Burgess also gave a paper before the 
American Scientific Association on the geology of India and 
the Cape of Good Hope, and the specimens he furnished for 
our Cabinet are numerous and fine. But no one made such 
sacrifices and efforts to obtain specimens as did Dr. Perkins 
in his various journeys across Armenia and in Persia, as the 
shelves of our Cabinet testify. In one instance he brought 
on a fever by his efforts to secure specimens from the top 
of a peak of the Ararat range, and when other means of 
packing specimens failed, he employed the extra articles 
of his wardrobe, and some pairs of pantaloons reached 
Amherst thus filled with rocks instead of human limbs, and I 
have always regretted that I did not suspend one pair in the 
Cabinet as a memento of zeal and perseverance in the cause 
of science by one whose zeal for the salvation of men was a 
far stronger passion. 

I cannot likewise but refer to the extraordinary success of 
Professor Fiske in obtaining not less than two hundred speci 
mens in Syria and Palestine. Before leaving this country he 
had never given any special attention to these subjects or felt 
in them any special interest. But when he reached Syria no 
naturalist could have kept his eyes more widely open upon the 
rocks or have seized upon a greater variety of specimens than 
he did, although in very feeble health. His labels too were 
unusually full and graphic, as I have shown by copying two 
of them in another place. His habits of thorough investigation 
and careful attention to minutiae was finely exhibited and show 
how he would have excelled as a naturalist had circumstances 
led him to make natural history an object of professional pur 
suit. Those who cherish his memory will look with melan 
choly interest upon the numerous specimens in the Cabinet 
from Mount Zion collected by him only three or four weeks 
before he was himself laid there near the tomb of David. 

Upon the decease of Prof. Hovey it was found that he had left by 
will, several valuable collections to the College. The largest con- 


sisted of several thousand specimens, illustrating 1,000 species of 
shells, with corals, echinoderms, c., mainly from the West Indies. 
Another was made up of 225 specimens, chiefly fossil shells and 
wood from the same islands. The fossil wood was from Antigua, 
and gives a fine idea of such petrifactions. The shells are mainly 
of the most recent kind enveloped in marl. These came into 
possession of the College in 1839. 

The year previously Prof. C. U. Shepard had presented a collec 
tion of the rocks and minerals of Connecticut, amounting to 800 
specimens. These were collected during his survey of that State in 
connection with Dr. Percival. 

But though in this way numerous specimens might come into pos 
session of the College, of great value, yet I had some years earlier 
felt the need of obtaining some funds for procuring specimens of 
fossils and rocks from Europe. Having increased my collection of 
simple minerals to nearly 2,000, and obtained perhaps 1,000 speci 
mens of American rocks in 1836, I proposed to give these to the 
College provided the Trustees would appropriate $1,000 to be ex 
pended in the increase of the Cabinet. The offer was accepted, and 
it was "voted that the Trustees comply with Professor Hitchcock s 
proposition, and place one thousand dollars at the disposal of 
Prof. Hitchcock to be expended by him, under the direction of the 
Prudential Committee, in the purchase of specimens and books 
in Natural History." About one-third of this appropriation was 
expended in 1839, in procuring the following collections from 
Heidelberg in Germany : 

A collection of GOO specimens of the rocks and their characteristic 
fossils of Continental Europe, embracing the entire series with 
printed labels in German, French and English. This is a very 
instructive collection, though from the progress of geology it needs 
to be labelled anew. 

An economic collection, from the same part of the world, of 300 
specimens, embracing a large part of the rocks and minerals 
employed in the arts, with most of the ores of the metals. 

A collection of 50 varieties of precious stones, embracing not 
less than 200 specimens, a large part of which are cut and polished. 

These collections cost a little over $300, or about one-third of 
the thousand dollars voted by the Trustees. But the financial 
embarrassments of the College were becoming more and more 
severe, and I did not feel justified in calling for the remainder; nor 
have I ever done it. I have no idea on that account of declining to 
fulfill my part of the contract ; though I hope the Trustees uiay 


remember it should the time come when some very desirable acqui 
sition of specimens might need their special help. 

Another collection, obtained by Prof. Hovey, in Rome, consists 
of 172 polished square pieces of alabasters, antique marbles, porphy 
ries and granites, imbedded as mosaic in black and white marble. 
I am not sure whence the funds were obtained for this purchase, but 
think they came from the College treasury. 

Some years later, I obtained from Heidelberg, in Germany, a 
collection of 600 specimens of Organic Remains, extending through 
the entire series of rocks, all named and very instructive. I am not 
sure whether this collection was obtained by way of exchange or 
paid for from a fund in my hands contributed by individuals for 
obtaining additions to the Cabinet. They cost about $100. 

During 1853 and 1854, I obtained the following collections from 
M. Krantz, an extensive mineral dealer in Bonn, on the Rhine : 

100 specimens of fossils from the Permian Formation and Moun 
tain Limestone. 

124 species of Coal Plants from Silesia. 

50 species of Fossil Fishes. 

Casts of the bones of Mastodon, Megalonyx, Zeuglodon, Igua- 
nodon, Pterodactyle, Plesiosaurus, Mystriosaurus, Holoptychius, 
Labyrinthodon, Encrinites, &c., &c. 

These collections cost about $200 besides freight. Of this sum, 
$84 was furnished by the fund already referred to as in my hands, 
for such purposes. The remainder was met by specimens of min 
erals and footmarks sent from my private duplicates to Mr. Krantz. 

In like manner I obtained, by exchanges with Dr. John C. 
Warren, of Boston, several valuable specimens, for example : 

All that remains of the Tusks of the great Newburgh Mastodon. 

Wooden models of the entire Tusks. 

Plaster cast of the entire head of a small Mastodon. Price, $50. 

In 1861, I deposited in the Cabinet the following casts : 

The head of a Megatherium, mounted. 

Small Models of the Iguanodon, Megalosaurus, Labyrinthodon, 
Pterodactyle, Ichthyosaurus, and the Plesiosaurus, representing 
those of the natural size lately erected in the Crystal Palace, in 

In the opening of 1862, we received the head (cast) of a Deino- 
therium, the largest of quadrupeds, which cost $100, and which was 
presented to the Cabinet by myself and Ephraim Brown, Esq., of 
Lowell, each of us having contributed an equal amount. 


The sum presented for the purchase of footmarks in 1863, prov 
ing more than sufficient for that purpose and the necessary fixtures, 
I suggested to some of the donors other desirable objects to which 
the surplus might be applied, specially casts of rare animals. 
Among them are two fine slabs of the tracks of the Cheirotherium. 
Then comes a magnificent specimen of the head of a Mososaurus. 
Others arc the paddle of a Pliosaurus, a Glyptodon, heads of Arch- 
egosaurus, Crocodilus and Cephalaspis, Crioceras, Paleotherium, 
Anoplotherium, Sivatherium, a series of notable Trilobites, etc. 

Last of all, we have the promise of a cast of the Megatherium. We 
had for years been aiming at such an acquisition through the efforts 
of Simeon Brown and my oldest son. But we failed, until last March 
I addressed a letter to Joshua Bates, Esq., the eminent London 
banker, and ere long received the following gratifying reply : 

" LONDON, May 22, 1863. 

"Dear Sir: Your letter of the IGth March reached me in due 
course. I was not aware until to-day, that it had been so long 
unanswered, but I intended from the moment of its receipt, to send 
to your College the casts of the Megatherium, and Prof. Owen 
recommended that I send it complete. It has been ordered, and in 
due time will arrive at Boston, and I have great pleasure in pre 
senting it to your College, with many thanks for the interesting 
contents of your letter, and for the pleasure I have had in reading 
your books. I remain, dear sir, very truly yours, 


In 1847, when Professor Adams joined us, he presented to the 
College a collection of 2,200 specimens of the rocks and minerals 
of Vermont, 1,200 of which are claystones. Some of the latter are 
the most remarkable ever found. But few fossils are in this collec 
tion, Prof. Adams having kept them back for names, and by one 
mishap and another they never reached us. My son, C. H. Hitch 
cock, has been able to supply this deficiency in a measure, and also 
to add several hundred other specimens collected during his geolog 
ical survey of Vermont, whose Keport has recently been published. 

Not far from the same date, Monsieur E. Desor, a French geolo 
gist, who spent some years in this country, presented the College 
with a suite of the fossil shells found in the Paris Basin, as it is 
called, amounting to 124 species. 

From other individuals we have received valuable specimens. 
For example, Prof. E. Daniels of Wisconsin, sent us 32 specimens 
of the rocks of Kansas ; Major David Hoyt, who was murdered in 


the civil wars of Kansas, and who crossed the Rocky Mountains 
with Gov. Stevens on a railroad survey, forwarded 28 specimens 
from the Missouri River, among the Rocky Mountains ; the Rev. H. 
P. Herrick presented 60 specimens of Tertiary Fossils from the 
western coast of Africa, under the equator; Rev. William Walker 
sent a remarkable specimen, whether concretion or fossil I cannot 
decide, from the river Nazareth, in Africa, 100 miles from its mouth. 
These cases are akin to many others that were noticed when giving 
an account of the missionary collection from Asia and the Sand 
wich Islands. 

Some of the College classes have felt a desire to leave some 
memento in rock, (acre perennius,} which should remind others of 
their existence and form a pleasant quickener of reminiscences at 
their reunions in subsequent years. The class of 1857 performed 
the Herculean task of digging up and transporting a bowlder weigh 
ing over eight tons nearly half a mile, and placing it in front of the 
Woods Cabinet. It is so unique on account of its strise that I gave 
a description of it in the American Journal of Science. 

The class of 1859, chose a large slab of the beautiful serpentine 
of Roxbury, in Vermont, and placed their name upon it in the 
vestibule of the Woods Cabinet. 


My collection of fossil footmarks was begun in 1835. 
For as soon as I had turned my attention to Ichnology I com 
menced the accumulation of specimens, and from that day to 
the present I have never ceased to gather in all which I could 
honestly obtain. For no other part of the cabinet have I 
labored so hard or encountered so many difficulties. True, for 
some years at first I had the field essentially to myself, and 
had I then been fully aware of its richness and extent, I might 
have secured a large amount of specimens at a reasonable rate. 
But the subject opened upon me gradually, and the disclosures 
made by my writings attracted others into the field who became 
uncompromising competitors in the way of collecting, and with 
some it became a matter of trade. The consequence was that 
the value of specimens rose to almost fabulous prices. The 
man who had made the largest collection was Dexter Marsh, 
of Greenfield, who was himself a quarryman and had the 
ambition, as he told me, to get together the largest collection 


in the world. He succeeded, if we take into account the 
quality of the specimens. But, poor man ! he died before his 
work was done, having, in my opinion, hastened his decease by 
excessive labor in the hot sun in getting out beryls and other 
minerals. His executors sold his collections at auction. I 
. knew they would sell high, for I was one of the appraisers and 
we marked them high. But I could not see those fine speci 
mens all scattered through the land without making an effort 
to raise some money to secure some of them, and I adopted 
this plan. My collection of footmarks had become so large 
that in the opinion of so good a judge as Professor C. U. 
Shepard its value was not less than $3,500 ; and that it could 
be disposed of for at least $2,000 in cash. In a circular to 
several benevolent gentlemen I offered to present this to the 
College if others would furnish me with six or seven hundred 
dollars with which to secure some of the slabs at Marsh s 
auction. It so happened, or rather as I view it Providence so 
ordered it, that I first addressed John Tappan, Esq. He 
responded by a subscription of $500. To this extraordinary 
liberality I attribute my success in filling up the present large 
cabinet. For so high a standard had imitators. Hon. David 
Sears soon added another $500 ; Gerard Hallock followed 
with $250, Hon. E. P. Prentice with $150, and several other 
gentlemen with $100 each. So that I went to the auction 
with nearly $2,000 in my pocket. Moreover the stream of 
benevolence which had thus been diverted into this channel 
did not cease to flow with the Marsh sale ; but almost to the 
present day new and liberal increments have continued to be 
made to the funds in my hands chiefly devoted to footmarks ; 
so that they have risen to $3,800. Among the donors was the 
widow of Hon. Abbott Lawrence who sent me $300, although 
I suggested as a maximum only $100. Had Mr. Tappan 
headed the subscription with $50 and I could not reasonably 
have expected more probably I should have been compelled 
to see it close at $500, and the Ichnological Cabinet would 
have been a meagre affair compared with what it now is. 


When I reached Greenfield to attend the auction in Sep 
tember, 1853, I found several naturalists there from Boston 
with pockets well lined who came with the intention as they 
had a right to do to take the whole of Mr. Marsh s collection 
for the Boston Society of Natural History. I told them that 
there were many duplicates in the collection, enough if divided 
to supply both the College and their Society. But if they 
insisted upon monopolizing the whole, I had made up my mind, 
having $2,000 on hand, to be very benevolent towards the 
widow by compelling them to pay very liberal prices. They 
seemed to feel the reasonableness of my suggestions, and they 
found as I stated that there were enough specimens for us 
both. My bill went as high as $700, and theirs higher. 

Since this auction I have continued to lay out large sums 
in the purchase of footmarks. To Roswell Field, who lives 
on the most remarkable known locality, and has disinterred 
more tracks than any other man, I have paid not far from 
$4,000. His prices have indeed been generally high, but 
when the specimen was unique, I must give him what he 
asked, or leave it for some one else ; and Mr. Field has, in at 
least two cases, presented specimens to the Cabinet which I 
have estimated at $300. 

To persons not familiar with the value of natural history 
specimens, the idea of giving $150 for a broken slab of stone 
a few feet square, (I have several specimens that cost me that 
sum,) seems extravagance and folly. I may mention an anec 
dote in point. After the auction at Greenfield, I employed a 
wagoner to transport my specimens to the railroad. I hap 
pened to be a little out of sight, and heard him describing to 
a citizen standing by the sums I had paid for them. " The 
man," said the citizen, "who will waste money like that, 
should have a guardian placed over him." I could not 
restrain a loud laugh, which brought us into conversation, 
when I said, " you will at least acknowledge that my insane 
prodigality is a good thing for Mrs. Marsh." 

I must acknowledge, however, that in no enterprise in my 


life have I been obliged to work so hard, and exercise so 
much strategic skill to avoid paying exorbitant prices, and 
even being defeated, as in the collection of this Jchnological 
Cabinet. The high prices paid at the auction (one slab sold 
for $375,) produced an impression of the great value of these 
relics throughout the Valley, and exorbitant prices were 
attached to them wherever found. But very few, however, 
knew enough about the different kinds to distinguish the rare 
and valuable ones. But since I had studied them all, I found 
that whenever I expressed any particular interest in a speci 
men the presumption was that it was rare, and the price went 
up accordingly. I was obliged, therefore, to exercise a good 
deal of prudence, and show much sang froid, or I could not, 
with my small means, make much headway. I worked as 
quietly as possible, with my plans locked up in my own 
bosom, yet with inflexible resolution and perseverance, looking 
constantly to God for help. I felt that such a collection would 
illustrate a curious chapter of His Providence towards our 
globe, and that the larger the collection, the more full the 
illustration. I expected myself to make only a beginning; 
but I wanted to provide the means for my successors to carry 
forward the work which they never could do if the specimens 
are scattered all over the world, or rather if all the varieties 
are not found in some one cabinet. Large as the collection 
now is, I have been often pained to see very fine specimens 
taken out of my hands by those who could pay more for them 
than I could, and carried, I know not whither. 

In such circumstances, I have tried to be as economical as 
possible in the use of the money in my hands for this purpose. 
Whenever I could, I have myself gone to the quarries and 
dug out the specimens. When not too large, also, I have 
transported them on my own business wagon. Again and 
again, have I entered Amherst upon such a load, generally, 
however, preferring not to arrive till evening, because, espe 
cially of late, such manual labor is regarded by many as not 
comporting with the dignity of a professor. I have not, 


however, in general, paid much attention to such a feeling, 
except to be pained by seeing it increase, because its preva 
lence would change the character of the College, by driving 
away those who are obliged to do their own work. 

During these twenty-six years experience in gathering 
these footmarks, I have met some very unique examples of 
human nature. While some of my countrymen in the lower 
classes of society have shown a shrewdness and generosity 
that made me feel proud of New England, others have exhib 
ited a selfishness and meanness that made me exclaim, par- 
vurn parva decent. For instance, suppose on your arrival at 
a locality of footmarks, one had preceded you with whom 
you were on friendly terms, but who was so anxious to pre 
vent your obtaining any specimens, that he had mutilated the 
good ones that were accessible, which he had not time to 
remove ! Alas, if I had not known this vandalism practiced 
several times by professedly respectable naturalists, I should 
not mention it. 

Some of my experiences have been quite amusing. Having 
found some impressions which I called tracks (Harpagopus 
Hudsonius) in the sidewalks of Greenwich Street, in New 
York city, I requested a moulder to take a plaster cast of 
them, which he did. But on going to the spot again some 
hours later, I was told that some one else had meantime taken 
casts of them ! although he could not have known that they 
were of any value ; but it shows how prone men are to follow 
an example. A large crowd had gathered when I took the 
first cast, and I was told afterwards that all which saved me 
from being voted a fit subject for a lunatic asylum, was the 
testimony of a young lady, in one of the adjoining houses, 
who had attended my lectures on geology at Amherst, and 
who testified that I was no more deranged than such men 
usually are 

" Are you finding gold there ? " was, perhaps, the most 
usual inquiry when men saw me breaking rocks. " No," said 
I, to a wagoner, one day, " I am getting some of these curious 


impressions, which are evidently the tracks of animals," at 
the same time handing him a specimen. Looking at it a 
moment, he cast it indignantly from him, exclaiming, " Poll ! 
is that all?" and passed on. Repeating the experiment 
shortly after, with another man, he, after looking some time 
attentively at the specimen, exclaimed, " Well I vum ! that 
ar is kinder cute, aint it ? " 

But though this has been a laborious work, it has been 
intensely interesting. It was emphatically a new field, and 
every step I had to feel my way where no one had gone 
before me ; but as I pried open, one after another, the folded 
leaves of this ancient record, it revealed a marvellous history 
of the ancient Fauna of this Valley. It was a new branch 
of Paleontology, whose title-page had scarcely been written 
in Europe, but I had stuTnbled upon materials enough almost 
to fill the volume. Up to this hour I have been trying to 
spell out the hieroglyphics; and even now, I presume the 
work is only begun. Success to those who come after me, 
and may they find in the cabinet which I leave them many 
curious archives which they shall decipher. 

It is well known that the pleasure of these investigations has been 
marred by painful controversy. After groping my way alone and 
unaided for many years it was the last thing I should have appre 
hended that my claims to the original investigation of the footmarks 
should be denied. I claimed not that I first found them, but only 
that I first scientifically investigated and described them. This, 
according to Paley in his Moral Philosophy, would make me the dis 
coverer ; for he says, " he alone discovers who proves." (Book V.) 
But I never claimed to be the discoverer unless in this sense. I 
shall not, however, go into the argument here as I have done else 
where. (See " Ichnology of New England," page 191, also " Spring 
field Republican " for May 14th and 21st, 1 859.) But perhaps I ought 
in justice to others as well as myself to put down certain facts 
which probably will be denied by none now that the controversy has 

The first tracks in stone noticed anywhere on the globe, so far as 
we know, were ploughed up by Pliny Moody, in South Iladley, in 
1802, while a boy. This slab is now in our collection, (No. Jjf.) 


But though the impressions were then spoken of as the " tracks of 
poultry" or "of Noah s Raven," no account of them was given to the 
public nor the attention of any scientific men called to them, and it 
was only after J had been for some time investigating the subject 
that I accidentally learnt of the existence of this slab. But it was 
undoubtedly dug up earlier than any fossil footmark on the globe 
that has been preserved. 

The first scientific account of fossil footmarks was given by Rev. 
Dr. Duncan of Edinburgh, in 1828, viz., of some at Annan/Iale in 

In 1831 by Mr. Scrope in England, and in 1834 in Germany by 
Prof. Kaup, tracks were described. 

In 183G, in the January number of the "American Journal of 
Science and the Arts," I described seven species of the tracks in the 
Connecticut Valley. These were brought into notice as follows : 

In March, 1835, Mr. W. W. Draper, of Greenfield, walking home 
from church with his wife noticed on some slabs of flagging stone 
lying by the sidewalk, impressions which he thus described to Wm. 
Wilson, in front of whose house the slabs lay, "here are some tur 
key tracks made 3,000 years ago." Mr. Wilson soon after showed 
them to Dr. Deane, who described them to me by letter the same 
week, as " the tracks of a turkey in relief," and showed a correct 
appreciation of their nature and value. 

In the six following years I brought out five papers in the jour 
nals, containing over a hundred pages and 26 plates, describing 32 
species, including my first paper, before any one else had described 
one species, and before they had scarcely been noticed by any other 

With some noble exceptions, such as Professors Silliman and 
Buckland, the views which I advanced in my first paper in 1836, 
were received with great scepticism by scientific men and others on 
both sides of the Atlantic. So it continued for several years. The 
State Geologists of New York, for instance, contended that these 
impressions were probably fucoids and not tracks. But in 1841, 
five eminent geologists who had been appointed by the American 
Scientific Association to examine the subject, reported that "the 
evidence entirely favors the views of Professor Hitchcock." A few 
years more and there was a general acquiescence in those views. 
Nor was it till the tide had turned that any one sought to share the 
honor or the odium. 

Up to this time, (1862,) I have published about 550 pages 360 of 
them quarto with 116 plates on the Ichnology of the Connecticut, 


in eleven communications in the " American Journal of Science," one 
in the "Transactions of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences," 
and two Reports to the Government of Massachusetts. In my first 
paper I described seven species ; in my Final Report on the Geology 
of Massachusetts, 27 species ; in my paper before the American 
Academy, 52 species ; and in my Report on the Ichnology of New- 
England in 1858, one hundred and nineteen species. Whatever be 
the merits of this last work, its publication in such good style by 
the Government, is a noble testimony to the liberality of the State 
towards science. I distinctly informed the Legislature that it was 
merely a matter of science, yet they ordered its publication without 
reading it ? Is there any other State in the Union that would have 
done it ? Which of them would not have felt, when offered a man 
uscript on Ichnology, as did the French Government when the 
friends of the Abbe Hauy interceded with them to help him. 
"There is no connection," said they, "between the public contribu 
tions and Crystallography." But whoever would see how this deed 
of Massachusetts is viewed in Europe, let him read the review of 
my Ichnology in the "North British Review." 

A few weeks ago (June, 1863,) I laid before the American Acad 
emy of Arts and Sciences a Supplement to the Ichnology of New 
England which makes 58 foolscap pages of manuscript, with XVIII. 
quarto plates, and a description of 36 new species. The Academy 
allowed me to publish the last 11 pages of this communication in 
the American Journal of Science for July, 1863. 

The following list will show to whom the 
Cabinet is indebted, and how much, up to 18G1. I put down 
half the sum given to the building as this cabinet occupies its 
lower half. 

Hon. Samuel Appleton, for half the building, . . $5,000 00 

Edward Hitchcock, in specimens, . . . . 2,000 00 

John Tappan, Esq., ....... 500 00 

Hon. David Sears, ....... 500 00 

Mrs. Abbot Lawrence, . . . . . . . 300 00 

Roswell Field, Esq., in specimens, .... 300 00 

Gerard Hallock, Esq., (N. Y.,) ..... 250 00 

William Miles, Esq., (N. Y.,) . , ... 200 00 

Hon. E. P. Prentice, (Albany,) . . . ; . 150 00 

John Clarke, Esq., (Northampton,) ; 100 00 

Hon. Edward Dickinson, (Amherst,) .... 100 00 

William Dickinson, Esq., (Worcester,) ... 100 00 


John M. Doubleday, Esq., (N. Y.,) .... $100 00 

James H. Welles, Esq., (N. Y.,) 100 00 

Hon. Jonathan Phillips, (Boston,) . ... 50 00 

lion. Samuel Williston, 50 00 

Hon. Albert H. Porter, (Niagara Falls,) . . . 5000 

Prof. Edward Tuckerman, 50 00 

George Merriam, Esq., (Springfield,) . . . . 50 00 

Hon. John C. Gray, (Boston,) . . . ..." 25 00 

Dr. Nathan Allen, (Lowell,) . . . . . . 25 00 

William Ropes, Esq., (Boston,) . . ... 25 00 

Hon. Horatio G. Knight, (Easthampton,) I . 25 00 

J. P. Williston, Esq., (Northampton,) ... . 25 00 

Edward Barrett, (Northampton,) . . . . . 2500 

Gilbert A. Smith, Esq., (S. Hadley,) in specimens, . 25 00 

Pliny Moody, Esq., (S. Hadley,) in specimens, . 25 00 

Kev. Plinius Moody, (S. Hadley,) in specimens, . . 25 00 

$10,175 00 

To the above ought to be added several hundred dollars 
devoted to this object from the Natural History Fund of the 
College, and about $50 worth of Reports on Iclmology which 
I promised and gave to donors, so that the cost of the building 
and cabinet cannot be less than $11,000. It is a noble list. 
For though it has cost me a large amount of effort, yet no 
labor could have succeeded if I had not had remarkable 
materials to work upon. 

Excepting the few hundred dollars from the Natural His 
tory Fund (how much of which has been expended for this 
object I am unable to say exactly) the Ichnological Cabinet 
has cost the College only about $140, which were appropriated 
for tables the upright glazed cases being the old cast-off ones 
from the Natural History Rooms. And yet this is the col 
lection that most attracts the attention of visitors, because 
there is none like it in any part of the world. 

At the commencement of the present war I supposed any 
efforts to increase the Ichnological Cabinet would be of no 
avail ; and that I should never be instrumental in adding any 
thing more to that collection. But Providence has ordered 
otherwise. A fine collection of tracks was offered me by Mr. 



Field, before the war, for $2,000. The next year he came 
down to $1,000, and the last year to $800. Hon. Josiah B. 
Woods offered to be one of eight to raise this sum. I wrote 
numerous letters, and during the last winter not only obtained 
the $800, but $400 in addition ; with which I not only pur 
chased the collection containing from 8,000 to 10,000 individ 
ual tracks, but was able to put up all the necessary cases and 
fixtures in a new room never before used for this purpose, 
without any call upon the College treasury. And I have 
lived to see the walls of this new room, the north-west corner 
room of the Appleton Cabinet, entirely covered with specimens ; 
a result almost as marvellous to me as a miracle. Moreover, 
this addition has enabled me to make discoveries in Ichnology 
of great importance. I record with pleasure the names of the 
benevolent gentlemen who have furnished the means for this 

Chester W. Chapin, 

Esq., . . . $300 00 

Fred. I). Allen, Esq., . 150 00 

Hon. G. H. Gilbert, . 125 00 

Hon. J. B. Woods, . 100 00 

Hon. David Sears, . 100 00 

Hon. Sam l Williston, 100 00 

Enos Dickinson, Esq., 75 00 

John Tappan, Esq., . $50 00 

J. P. Williston, Esq.,. 50 00 

E. H. Sawyer, Esq., . 50 00 

John B. Gough, Esq., 25 00 

Gen. W. Williams, . 25 00 

Hon. Eliphalet Williams, 25 00 
A. Lyman Williston, Esq., 25 00 


Previous to the year 1839 the collections in Zoology in the 
College were meagre. I had a few hundred shells showing 
most of the Linnean genera, and had gathered together a few 
hundred specimens in the other departments of the subject. 
In 1839 we came into possession of Professor Hovey s legacy, 
which contained 1,000 species of shells and some good corals. 
Dr. Blodget, of Key West, had also presented us with a great 
variety of sponges and sea fans, so that I was able to give the 
classes a tolerable idea of all the great classes and orders of 
the animal kingdom. But when Professor Adams joined us 
in 1847 he brought so much larger collections as to cast all 


the others into the shade, and ere long they all were absorbed 
in his, but whether the original specimens can now be distin 
guished I do not know. 


Professor Charles B. Adams, a native of Dorchester, came 
to Amherst College from Yale College, and joined the Sopho 
more Class in 1831. He graduated in 1834 with the highest 
honors. While attending my lectures he became decidedly 
interested in natural history, and went into it with an energy 
and a zest that made it the business of his life. The first 
circumstance that made me acquainted with his predelictions 
was his bringing to me a very complete Pantological Chart, 
showing a very extended knowledge of the different branches 
of knowledge. It produced in my mind at once a hopeful 
augury of his future eminence. I saw that he would be 
something more than a mere collector. He would not be sat 
isfied till he had traced out the relations of the natural objects 
he met. And it has happened that in all his publications he 
has shown a remarkable power of classification. 

In 1836, Professor Adams was called to a tutorship in 
Amherst College. I selected him, also, as my assistant in 
Chemistry, and never had a more able one. Having soon 
after, myself, accepted an appointment as Geologist to the 
First District of New York, I secured his services as my 
assistant, and we commenced our explorations in Duchess 
County. But the magnitude of the undertaking, my feeble 
health, and a desire to do something more in Massachusetts, 
led me to resign the New York survey, and of course Pro 
fessor Adams withdrew also. Some time after, I had an 
Opportunity to recommend him strongly as Professor of Chem 
istry and Natural History, to a new college, which was started 
with much eclat in Missouri, I believe by Rev. Dr. Ely, of 
Philadelphia. He went there, and after laboring hard for 
some time, was starved out, and had to send to his father in 
Boston, to get money enough to bear his expenses back. 
Some time after, he accepted the chair of Chemistry and 


Natural History in Middlebury College. While there he was 
appointed State Geologist of Vermont. He entered upon 
that work in 1845, and continued in the office till his death, 
in 1852. He published four Annual Reports, making four 
hundred pages, which exhibited his characteristic ability. But 
in consequence of some diversity of views between him and 
the Legislature on pecuniary matters, his Final Report was 
never called for or prepared, and most of the benefits of the 
survey were lost ; and not long after his death, the entire 
collection of specimens made by him were burnt up with the 
State House. After Professor Adams death, the survey was 
committed to Professor Thompson, who also died soon, with 
out leaving any Report. He was succeeded by Judge Young, 
who was likewise stricken down before having done much. 
Finally, in 1856, the work was committed to myself, and by 
the help of very competent assistants it has been earned 
through, imperfectly, indeed, but a Report of one thousand 
pages, in two quarto volumes, and thirty-eight plates, has 
finally been published. The history of the survey is certainly 
one of the saddest on the records of science, and we feel more 
like dedicating our labors to the dead than the living. 

For some reason, I presume that Professor Adams situa 
tion at Middlebury had become less pleasant, and he began to 
look out for some other position. His thoughts turned natu 
rally to his Alma Mater, where I, who had always tried to 
befriend him was President, and he frankly inquired whether 
we had not a place for him. AVe had no vacancy, but our 
Cabinets needed a Curator who would fill them up, and we 
had no Professor of Astronomy, and so we made up a chair 
of Zoology and Astronomy, knowing Professor Adams to be 
amply qualified to take charge of the latter, both theoretically 
and practically. But Zoology was his first love, and though 
he would hear the recitations in the latter science, he could 
not, to much purpose, direct his mind into a new channel. 
But in Zoology he worked like a giant. I never knew a man 
who would do as much in collecting, arranging, and ticketing 


specimens as he. He gave his whole time to it, regardless 
of the laws of health, which with him was not the most 
vigorous. So economical was he of time, that in going from 
his cabinet to his meals he had learnt to move upon a trot, 
and I am afraid that too many midnight hours saw his lamp 
burning. He had two characteristics fully developed, which 
are indispensable to form the distinguished naturalist. The 
one was the power of giving a logical attention to minutias, and 
the other the power of grasping great principles and using 
them for the arrangement of details. Hence it was that his 
labors were received as authority on both sides of the Atlantic. 
How sad to think that such a man was cut down in the very 
prime of life ! 

From, the time when Professor Adams first turned his 
attention to natural history he had been accumulating a cabi 
net that is for twelve or thirteen years, in 1846. I know not 
what circumstances led him to devote special attention to 
conchology and entomology. But in these branches his col 
lections were far the richest. Previous to his appointment at 
Amherst he intimated to me his intention to present all his 
collections in natural history to the College in case he should 
go there. The intimation came first from him and not in con 
sequence of any thing said by me. On certain conditions he 
at length presented the following specimens and books. [See 
Visitor s Guide to the Cabinets, by C. H. Hitchcock, pp. 77, 78.] 

Professor Adams estimated the value of this collection at 
$5,000, and he gave it on the following conditions : 

1. " A fund not less in value than the above mentioned, shall be 
established, the income of which shall be used forever for increasing 
the collections of books of Natural History, and of specimens in 
Natural History belonging to Amherst College." 

2. "This expenditure shall be made by myself during my official 
connection with the College, and subsequently by the officers of 
instruction who shall have charge of the department of Natural 
History, and shall be subject to such regulations as the Trustees of 
the College may deem requisite to secure its faithful appropriation 
to the objects specified above." 


Other conditions required the furnishing of 1,200 to 1,500 square 
feet of glazed tables and plaster blocks for the specimens, also 
expenses of removal, &c. At my suggestion he added the follow 
ing : " In case any of my sons shall be students in Amherst College, 
they shall not be required to pay the regular term bills." Alas ! two 
of these sons, having enlisted in the army, have died within a few 
months ; a third one, after joining College, has been ever since on 
the invalid list, so that there is no hope that any but the fourth and 
youngest, will avail himself of this assistance towards a public 

Prof. Adams closed these conditions with the following sentence, 
worthy to be engraved upon his monument : 

"The gift, with these conditions, is made with a view to contribute 
in some small degree, to the exhibition of the glorious plan of 
creation, especially of organic beings, as this exists in the Mind of 
the Creator." 

Before leaving Middlebury, Professor Adams had spent a 
winter in the island of Jamaica, in the West Indies, where he 
had made a considerable part of the collections above described. 
After getting established at Amherst, he sought and obtained 
leave of the Trustees to spend another winter on the Isthmus 
of Panama, from whence he brought large treasures, especially 
in conchology. Before his death, indeed, he had nearly doubled 
his collections ; but most of this addition was made at the 
expense of the College, as the Trustees continued his salary 
while he was absent obtaining specimens. Since his death, 
also, my youngest son, as Curator of the Cabinet, has been 
carrying on the work of collection and of arranging and 
naming the specimens. My oldest son also has aided in 
mounting several specimens in comparative anatomy, and 
Professor Clark added some of the larger animals. The 
following have been added since Professor Adams death : 

Mammalia, (skeletons 38,) 185 specimens. 

Birds, 550 specimens of 200 species, (200 species of eggs and 

lleptiles, 140 specimens. 
Fishes, 180 specimens. 
Invertebrates, nearly 800 specimens. 


I ought to have mentioned earlier, that as far back as 1843, 1 pro 
cured, at my private expense, a six-foot Manikin, a human skeleton, 
large models of the eye, ear, and other organs, with 43 casts of 
human crania, and 20 of other mammifera. Of these I will give a 
fuller account under the head of Personal History. 

Several important specimens have recently been received for the 
Zoological Museum, since this enumeration was made. Among 
them are the stuffed skin and skeleton of the African Gorilla, pre 
sented by Rev. Wm. Walker, of Gaboon, West Africa. No other 
cabinet in the country, at this date, is so largely represented by 
specimens of this animal. It being the nearest approach of the 
animals to man, these specimens have attracted great interest, par 
ticularly as they so clearly show the falsity of the notion that the 
gorilla could ever have changed into man by the " law of selection." 
The -skin was stuffed by Jillson, of Feltonville, and the skeleton 
mounted by my oldest son. 

Edward C. Jones, Esq., of New Bedford, has just presented the 
College with a fine set of the bones of the head of a sperm whale 
specimens of great pecuniary value, as well of intense scientific 
interest and of great novelty in collections, especially away from 
the sea-coast. 

Other interesting objects, are the skeletons of moose, caribou, 
horse, beaver, bear, fox, etc., and the preserved skins of the Asiatic 
bear and wolf, and American beavers. 

By the terms on which Prof. Adams made his valuable donation, 
the Zoological Cabinet has made larger drafts upon the College 
treasury than all the other cabinets combined. The following were 
the principal expenses during the lifetime of Prof. Adams : 
For horizontal cases, (see conditions,) .... $890 00 

For trays, . ... 200 00 

For stoppered jars, , . . 100 00 

Fitting up the Cabinet, . . . . . ... 41 00 

Removing specimens from Vermont, .... 132 00 

Income of the Natural History Fund for six years, . 1,700 00 

$3,OG3 00 

Till the last year of Prof. Adams s life, he had appropriated all 
the income (f 300, annually,) of the Natural History Fund, to Zool 
ogy. The last year of his life we made an agreement which was 
intended to be permanent, that at least one-third of the income 
should go to Geology, and that has been the rule ever since. Botany, 
also, has come in for its share one or two years. But probably 


about $1,500 have been devoted to Zoology since his death, so that 
the Zoological Cabinet, as it now is, must have cost the College at 
least $4,000. But this is a very small sum for so splendid a collec 
tion, which no naturalist would reckon worth less than $15,000. 

I think I never saw a man all of whose operations were 
such perfect clock-work as those of Professor Adams. He was 
rigidly exact in the performance of his duties, and could tole 
rate no delinquency or irregularity in others. Hence he could 
not always get along agreeably when associated with others in 
a common enterprise. Towards the close of life he became 
exceedingly tenacious of his own plans, and would rarely submit 
to modify them at all, however strongly advised. Knowing 
that I had always been his friend, he had in earlier days 
paid a good deal of deference to my advice ; but not so towards 
the close of life. I told him emphatically that if he took the 
ground with the legislature of Vermont that they must vote 
money for the publication of his report before he would write 
it, when they had supposed no more money would be needed, 
that they would assuredly refuse and never call for it. But 
he persisted, and my prediction proved true. The year before 
he died he made up his mind that he must go again to the 
West Indies, and wished me to present his request to the 
Trustees. I did so, but being in doubt whether the interests 
of the College would allow a third excursion to the tropics, I 
merely stated the case to the Trustees, but neither advo 
cated nor opposed the request. They referred it to a commit 
tee to grant or deny it. He called on me soon after and 
severely reproached me for not advocating the measure. 
Alas ! what a pity that I did not then take decided ground 
against his going, and thus have saved his life. Instead of 
this I concluded that as a choice of evils it would be best to 
yield to a passion for science so unconquerable and which 
promised valuable results to the Cabinet. He went, and 
stopping at the hospitable residence of a friend in St. Thomas, 
was advised to keep within doors till the yellow fever had 
subsided. But his love of science set at nought the suggestions 


of prudence, with the remark that there was no fever among 
the shell fish, and a little exposure brought on the fever of 
which he died. This was a real martyrdom in the cause of 
science. His ardor for new discoveries led him to force his 
way through all obstacles to reach the tropics, and then made 
him deaf to the suggestions of prudence, and he fell a victim 
to disease just at that period of life when maturity of mind and 
judgment and a vast accumulation of facts had prepared him 
to bring out results of high importance to the cause of learning. 
But why should we murmur when all the circumstances seemed 
so completely under the guidance of Providence ! 

There are some points in the conditions on which Professor 
Adams gave his collections to the College on which perhaps I can 
say something that can be of use. One relates to the purchase 
of books, which is one of the uses to which the income of the 
Natural History Fund may be applied. I happen to know, both 
from conversation with him and from his five years example, that 
the grand object to which ho intended to have that fund applied 
was the purchase of specimens ; for he well knew that in such a 
large Cabinet as ours, $300 annually would do little more than keep 
it from deterioration. Hence he forbids the use of the fund for 
building cases or any other fixtures for the exhibition of specimens. 
But from the great cost of works on Natural History he presumed 
that the ordinary increase of the library might leave out some 
works most desirable, and therefore he meant to give the professors 
of Natural History the power to make up the deficiency. But he 
did not mean to make this fund a substitute for that share in the 
library funds to which Natural History would be entitled by equal 
division. At one time there was a division of a considerable fund 
for the purchase of books among the different departments, and he 
became convinced that the proper proportion was withheld from 
Zoology because it could be supplied from the Natural Histor}* 
Fund. He at once directed a note to the Trustees asserting that 
the Cabinet which he had presented had become forfeit by a viola 
tion of one of the conditions on which it had been given. I was 
able to convince him that he was mistaken as to the fact, and per 
suaded him to ask leave of the Trustees to withdraw his communi 
cation. But suppose that in future that should actually be done 
which he supposed had been, and his heirs were able to show in 
court, by the communication above referred to, what were Professor 


Adams views on this point, is there any doubt what the judge would 
decide in the case ? For has not a donor the right to define his own 
conditions ? 

By another of the conditions of Professor Adams gift, the income 
of the fund is to be expended "by the officers of instruction who 
shall have charge of the department of Natural History." The 
recent creation of a Chair of Hygiene and Physical Education, and 
the transference of Anatomy and Physiology to it from my profes 
sorship, awakens the question whether the professor of these sciences 
is to have a voice in this distribution ; in other words, do Anatomy 
and Physiology fall within the province of Natural History ? It is 
certain that the Natural History of man embraces his anatomical 
structure and the functions of his organs. So the lower animals 
cannot even be classified unless their Comparative Anatomy be 
studied, and in fact this important science forms a necessary part 
of Zoology. And the very specimens that most fully illustrate 
Zoology do also illustrate Comparative Anatomy, and vice versa. 
I refer chiefly to skeletons. I can hardly doubt, therefore, that the 
professor of Hygiene and Physical Education, (embracing Anatomy 
and Comparative Anatomy as well as Comparative Physiology,) is 
entitled to a place among the dispeners of this fund, and his depart 
ment entitled to a share of it. 


Dried botanical specimens being less necessary and useful in 
giving instruction in Botany than specimens in other departments 
of Natural History, because living plants are so easily accessible 
everywhere, very little effort was made early to secure them for 
the College Cabinet. As already stated, however, I had collected 
nearly all the species of plants growing in the vicinity of the Col 
lege, and had prepared a catalogue of the same, within 40 or 50 
miles of the College. The Junior Class of 1829 made the following 
request which was complied with by publishing a pamphlet of G4 
pages : 

" To Prof. E. HITCHCOCK Respected Sir : Understanding that 
you have prepared in manuscript a catalogue of the plants, which 
are found in the vicinity of this place, the members of the Junior 
Class, now attending your lectures on the subject of botany, in the 
belief that their knowledge of the science, and the interest of their 
botanical tours, may be increased by the possession of such a work, 
request you to consent to the favor of its publication." 

The botanical specimens now in possession of the College belong 


to three distinct sorts. I will indicate the sources from whence they 
have been obtained, so far as I am able. 


The first donation of these was by Prof. Adams, although a few 
hundred species of plants in the vicinity had been previously pre 
pared, I believe, by members of the College. Prof. Adams gave : 

1. 1,000 species of plants from the Middle and Western States. 

2. Large collections of British plants. 

3. Miscellaneous specimens of tropical plants. 

At a much later date I presented my entire collection, with all the 
duplicates of the plants, cryptogamian as well as phenogamian, 
which I had collected in the vicinity of the College. 

Also a good collection of plants from the Vosges Mountains, sent 
me by Mons. Mougeot, a distinguished French botanist. 

Prof. Isaac F. Holton presented a collection of plants obtained by 
him in New Grenada, South America. 

Dr. Blodget, who furnished so fine a collection of sponges, sent 
also many interesting sea weeds. 

Some ladies in Salem sent us some beautifully prepared sea weeds 
from our coast. 

In 18GO, Dr. George L. Goodale, a promising young botanist of 
the class of I860, was employed to arrange all the preceding dona 
tions into a single College Herbarium, which has been done imper 
fectly, and the number of species is 4,000. 


175 of these were obtained by Prof. Adams, mostly from tropical 
regions, (the West Indies and Ceylon,) while connected with the 
College. They are quite instructive, and should be multiplied. 


The first of these were brought from the West Indies by Prof. 
Ilovey. Afterwards Prof. Adams made large additions, so that now 
we have the seeds or fruits of about 400 species, mostly from tropi 
cal regions. This collection also might easily be extended. 

Summary of Species and Specimens of Natural History in the 

Woods and Applcton Cabinets. 

I except the Shepard Cabinet, which will be subsequently 

Hocks and Fossils of Continental Europe, . . . . 000 
Hocks and Fossils from England, . . . . . . 600 



Rocks and Fossils from Asia, 

Rocks and Fossils from the West Indies, .... 

Rocks and Fossils of the United States, .... 2,20< 

Rocks and Fossils of Massachusetts, ..... 3 20 

Rocks of Connecticut, . 

Rocks and Fossils of Vermont, . . . - 

Fossils of the Paris Basin, . .* 

Simple Minerals, ....... - 1? ^ 

Organic Remains from all the Rocks, . . 

Organic Remains from the Permian formation, . 
Coal Plants from Silesia, . . * 

Fossil Fishes, ..... 

Tertiary Fossils from Africa, . . 

Rocks from Kansas, . . 

Rocks from the Rocky Mountains, . . . 
Economic Collection from Europe, . . 3 ^0 
Polished Marbles, Alabasters, &c., . 


Manikin and Casts of human and other Crania, . . C5 
Mammals, stuffed and skeletons, . .. .... 150 

Birds, (species,) ...... 

Nests of Birds, . . ..... 

Eggs of Birds, (species,) . . : -*. * : 
Reptiles, (species,) . ... 

Amphibia, (species,) . . . . j - 

Fishes, (species), . ^ ," 

Crustacea and Vermes, (species,) . . ... ^w 

Insects, (species,) . . .- . . 
Mollusca, (species,) . 

Animals of Mollusca, (specimens,) . ... * -^ 
Radiated Animals, (species,) ...... 

Amorphozoa, Sponges, Sea Fans, &c., (specimens,) . > 


Number of individual tracks, . . \* * 20>00< 


Dried Plants, (species,) ..... - 4.000 

Smoothed Sections of Wood, .... 

Seeds and Fruits, . . . . ..... - .-..., 400 

PROFESSOR !C. JJ;, $HFrARt>. 101 


As already stated, it was the offer of Professor Shepard to 
deposit his Cabinet at Amherst that led us to make vigorous 
efforts to erect the Woods Cabinet. A brief description of 
that Cabinet, with some notices of its author, seem desirable in 
this place. 

Charles Upham Shepard, son of Rev. Mace Shepard, of 
Tiverton, Rhode Island, graduated at Amherst in 1824, his 
mother and her family having come to reside in that town after 
the death of her husband. He had spent a year at Brown 
University, and there, or even earlier, he had begun to pick up 
the minerals and rocks around him and gradually to get them 
named. Indeed, when at a quite tender age he saw a boss of 
white quartz on his father s land, he fancied that it might be 
marble and began to make experiments to determine its nature, 
showing an innate fondness for pursuits that were to occupy 
his future life. When he reached Amherst it was not teachers 
or collections that seemed to develop a taste for natural his 
tory, except that Dr. Moore encouraged him and lent him the 
Journal of the Royal Institution. But being in a new and 
unexplored region he was stimulated to search out its mineral 
and botanical riches. Instead of finding collections at Amherst 
to study, his own furnished Professor Eaton with the means 
of lecturing. On leaving College he went to study with Mr. 
Nuttall, at Cambridge, an eminent botanist, and made up his 
mind to make natural history his life work instead of studying 
a profession, although strongly advised by President Kirkland 
not to depend on so uncertain means of support. 

While yet in College he had fitted up a laboratory in his 
mother s ante-cellar and there began to lecture to members of a 
select school. From that day to the present he has continued 
to give instruction in chemistry and natural history as a Lec 
turer or Professor. He lectured chiefly in Botany and Conch- 
ology for fifteen years in Yale College, sustained by a fund 
raised by the Alumni. He has given twenty-six courses of 
lectures as Professor of Chemistry in the Medical College of 


South Carolina, in Charleston, his last course closing only a 
short time before the attack on Fort Sumter. In 1845 he 
was appointed Massachusetts Professor of Chemistry and Nat 
ural History in our College, and has retained that place to the 
present time, though since the establishment of a separate 
chair of Chemistry, his lectures have been confined chiefly to 
Mineralogy and Astrolithology (Meteorites.) 

From the day when a mere boy he began to pick up stones 
on the shores of Rhode Island to the present day, Mr. Shepard 
has been incessantly gathering in new specimens, casting out 
the old ones when he could find those better. He has shown 
extraordinary skill and judgment in selecting specimens, and 
it seems as if he formed a centre of attraction towards which 
the best specimens naturally flowed. But the attraction con 
sists in a thorough knowledge of his business, in a correct taste, 
in promptness of action, in a thorough and persevering devo 
tion to the work, and in a willingness to make great sacrifices 
and incur much expense to accomplish his object. Scarcely 
an important locality of minerals is known in the United States 
east of the Rocky Mountains, even though it be in the wild 
mountains of Georgia or of Arkansas or Missouri, which he 
has not visited again and again, and there has he gathered 
together those duplicates which, taken to Europe in the ten 
excursions he has made thither, have been better than gold in 
exchanges for rare transatlantic specimens. 

See, now, a synopsis of this forty years unfaltering devotion 
to a darling object. Simple minerals and meteorites have been 
the first objects of his labors, while geology and zoology have 
come in, as it were, incidentally ; and yet the incidental results 
are often superb. 

1. Simple Minerals : over 10,000 specimens, none of which have 
suffered the slightest artificial alteration; all of them are very select 
and many superb; in some species superior to any existing cabim-t 
as the rutilcs for instance, where we sec a multitude of crystals 
some weighing nine pounds. Actual inspection only can give an 
idea of the selectness and richness of this collection. 


2. Technological Collection. This embraces the gems and other 
minerals that have been cut and polished. It embraces 500 speci 
mens, many of them of exquisite beauty. 

3. Meteorites. This collection was begun in 1828, and now con 
tains specimens from 170 localities, weighing 1,000 pounds. The 
earliest meteor represented fell in France in 1492, and the most 
recent one in Ohio, in May, I860. One specimen from South Africa 
weighs 328 pounds; another from the same quarter 178 pounds. 
This is decidedly the largest collection of meteorites in the United 
States, and in Europe not more than two or three, (say that in 
Vienna and the British Museum,) are larger, taking into account 
the number of meteors represented and the entire weight. It is cer 
tainly remarkable that a single individual in the interior of New 
England should without any extraordinary pecuniary means have 
been able thus to hold a successful competition with most of the great 
governmental collections of Europe, in these most rare and expen 
sive of natural objects. It gives us an impressive glimpse into the 
composition of other worlds ! 

4. Geological Collection. This contains above 6,000 specimens, 
many of them very superior from all parts of the world. They 
are grouped together according to the countries from which they 
came, commencing with British North America, then the States of 
the Union, beginning with New England, then the West Indies, 
England, France, and Continental Europe. The Sauroid Fishes of 
Scotland and other ichthyolites are represented by superb specimens ; 
as are the coal measures ; the fossil footmarks are very fine ; so are 
the tertiary fossils of the Southern States and the auriferous rocks 
of the same region ; as well as the fossils of the mesozoic rocks of 

5. Zoological Collection. This embraces about 5,000 species of 
shells which, away from the proximity of Prof. Adams 8,000 species, 
would be regarded as very large. The fishes, reptiles, echinoderms 
and radiates are numerous and fine. 

6. Dried Plants. These amount to 6,000 species, the larger part 
from the United States. 

In pecuniary value the Shepard Cabinet may be safely estimated 
as follows : 

Meteorites, $25,000 00 

Simple Minerals and Technological Collection, . 20,000 00 
The other Collections, 5,000 00 

$50,000 00 


Such is the magnificent result of forty years labor, continued 
with remarkable tenacity and singleness of purpose. It is not 
my purpose to give the whole history of Professor Shepard, 
any more than that of the other gentlemen whose names have 
been introduced ; otherwise I should speak of his skill as an 
analytic chemist, of the numerous new mineral species he has 
described, the volumes on mineralogy he has written, and the 
numerous papers of his on that subject and on meteorites, 
which the scientific journals contain. But the great work of 
his life has been the accumulation of the above Collections. 
These are now exhibited in the best possible light in the 
Woods Cabinet, and awaken the admiration of every intelligent 
visitor. The European tourist will rarely meet even there 
with cabinets so well lighted and arranged, and with speci 
mens so rich and select. He will find larger collections, but 
few that are so complete and satisfactory. 


In a literal sense all the geological cabinets are Archaeolog 
ical ; but that term is usually limited to what is ancient in 
human history, and so I use it here. We have some collec 
tions that are embraced in it, although their procurement was 
rather incidental. The most important is 


Rev. Mr. Marsh, American Missionary at Mosul, in Mesopotamia, 
on or near the site of ancient Nineveh, was the first, I believe, who 
sent specimens to this country, disinterred from its ruins. These he 
presented to Williams College. Learning this fact, and knowing, 
also, that Dr. Henry Lobdell had joined the same mission, I address 
ed him a letter inquiring whether he could not secure some speci 
mens from Mr. Layard, for Amherst, from the same ruins, promising 
that I would see to the expenses of transportation. These, I knew, 
must be heavy as it was necessary to transport the specimens on the 
backs of camels 500 miles to Scanderoon, on the Mediterranean, 
and thence 5,000 miles by ship. Dr.- Lobdell took hold of the work 
at once and forwarded several valuable slabs. These were placed 
for a time in the north-east room of the Library Building ; but in 


anticipation of obtaining more specimens I was led to make efforts 
to procure a Nineveh Gallery, and was successful, as I have more 
fully described in another place. I also succeeded in obtaining 
subscriptions, sufficient with the offer of $200 on the part of the 
Trustees, to defray all the attendant expenses. The following is 
a list of the contributions : 

Enos Dickinson, building and frescos, . , . . $567 00 

Trustees of the College, . . . .. . . 200 00 

Anthony Jones, Esq., of Boston, . , . 100 00 

J. P. Williston, Esq., of Northampton, . " . . 50 00 

George Merriam, Esq., of Springfield, . . . 50 00 

Abner Kingman, Esq., of Boston, ....*. 33 00 

Thomas W. Williams, Esq., of New London, . 30 00 

Kichard P. Waters, Esq., of Salem, . . . . 30 00 

Eliphalet Williams, Esq., of Northampton, . , . 30 00 

John Clarke, Esq., of Northampton, . . . . 25 00 

Gerard Hallock, Esq., of New Haven, . . . 20 00 

Daniel L. Harris, Esq., of Springfield, . . 20 00 

George H. Williams, Esq., of Brooklyn, N. 5T., . 10 00 

I shall not attempt to delineate the character of Dr. Lobdell, 
because it has been so fully and faithfully drawn out by Prof. Tyler, 
although an affectionate remembrance of such a man would lead 
me to say much. He was one of those men who condense life into 
a narrow space, so that all their powers are set to work under high 
pressure, and, of course, are soon exhausted. I doubt some whether 
such men ever could work moderately, because the impelling power 
of the mind within is always in a state of high tension. We mourn 
that the frail engine is so soon torn to pieces ; yet sometimes such 
men accomplish more for the race than the prudent octogenarian. 
The experiment, however, is a hazardous one ; and though a Martyn, 
or a Lobdell, occasionally appear, yet biography records the names 
of multitudes who with the like impulsive tendencies have not their 
moral or intellectual power, nor are thrown by Providence into like 
favorable exigencies. 

Dr. Lobdell labored with great zeal to get together the second 
collection of objects for our gallery. He even went once or twice 
to Nimroud to superintend the excavation of the sculptured slabs, as 
is fully described in Prof. Tyler s Memoir. There, also, may be 
found the fullest description yet given (made out by my youngest 



son C. IT. II.) of the contents of the Nineveh Gallery, of which the 
following is a summary : 

1. Sculptures. 1. Two human figures, with eagles heads, and on 
one the whole, and on the other, half of the sacred tree. This is 
the Nisroch of Scripture. 2. Two-horned Divinity, with wings, a 
basket and a cone, 7 1-2 feet high. 3. A three-horned Divinity like 
the last. 4. King Sardanapalus II. who built the palace, just re 
turned from hunting or war, and making a religious oblation. This 
Dr. Lobdell humorously said was the first king ever sent to the 
United States. 5. A filleted Divinity similar to Nos. 2 and 3 but 
he holds in one hand a branch of the sacred tree, and the other is 
lifted up as if speaking. A considerable part of all these figures is 
covered with cuneiform inscriptions. Mr. John Avery, who gradu 
ated in 1861, is the only person who has made any attempt to deci 
pher these inscriptions. By sending to Europe he procured some*- 
works that aided him and satisfied himself that they are essentially 
the same on all the slabs, and of no great importance. They are 
also most of them a good deal mutilated by sawing the slabs to 
reduce their weight. 

2. Bricks. Six of great size, chiefly from the palaces of Sarda 
napalus and Sennacherib, at Nimroud, and one from Babylon. All 
of them have inscriptions that from Babylon put on by a stamp, 
and, therefore, an example of the earliest printing known. 

3. Antique Gems, Pottery, $c. Babylonian, Sassanian, and 
Assyrian seals and cylinders, cut gems from Arabia, (probably 
modern,) and fragments of pottery, with inscriptions. 

4. Modern articles now used in Mesopotamia, such as bracelets, 
shoes, lamps, spoons, pipes, escritoires, locks, &c., more than a 

5. Coins. Commencing with Alexander the Great, and embracing 
numerous silver and copper coins of the Seleucidae, Assacidaj and 
Sassanidas, also Roman coins from Vespasian to Alexander Severus ; 
over 200 mostly copper Cufic coins of the old Mohammedan princes ; 
also numerous modern coins chiefly from other donors. The whole 
amounted to about 1,000, and were arranged and named with much 
skill by Professor Tuckerman. But here for the first time in the 
history of Amherst College we have to record a serious loss by 
theft. About 40 of the best antique silver coins were stolen in the 
summer of 18G1 by breaking open the case containing them. There 
was evidence that it was done by some one acquainted with the value 
of coins to some extent, and not merely to get at the silver. But 
thus to steal from a public institution articles obtained by a devoted 


missionary, and intended for tho public good, indicates a degree of 
depravity and meanness which Dr. Lobdell never found among the 
Arabs and Koords of Mesopotamia. It is only a man destined for, 
or at any rate deserving the gallows who would do it, and our only 
consolation is that such men like rattlesnakes, hyenas and alliga 
tors, are rare. 

Dr. Lobdell obtained most of these coins from Dervishes, arid 
doubtless with money we might in some measure supply our loss, if 
some other missionary on the same ground would be at the trouble 
to do it. 

It increases our interest in the contents of the Nineveh Gallery 
to learn, as we do from Professor Tyler s Memoir, that to get 
together and prepare for the journey the various articles, was about 
the last earthly labor of Dr. Lobdell. He left the arrangements 
incomplete, and we are indebted to other missionaries, especially 
Rev. Mr. Williams, for carrying them through. 

The frescos in the Nineveh Gallery represent other objects 
dug out of the ruins of the ancient city, by Layard, and figured 
by him. They are as follows : 7. A winged, human-headed lion. 
8. Sennacherib in his chair of state before Lachish. 9. Fish god. 
10. Sphinx. 11. Assyrian spearsman. 12. Archer. 13. Slinger. 
14. Eunuch. 15, Assyrian emblems of the Deity. 16. Fish god. 
17. Winged horse. 18. Griffin. 19. Monkey. 20. Bull. 

These were executed with much skill by Mr. A. Lydston, of 

Three other small collections of virtu we had placed in the 
Nineveh Gallery ; but with the coins they have been removed to the 
Library Building. These collections are as follows : 

1. Sulphur casts of the medals struck by Napoleon Bonaparte, 
during his reign, 185 in number. These were presented by Henry 
Edwards, Esq. 

2. Plaster casts of the heads of illustrious men, mostly ancient. 
These were bought by Professor Hovey, in Italy : 48 specimens. 

3. Copper medals struck by the Government of the United States : 
84 specimens. Bought by the College. 

The Society of Inquiry has existed almost co-equally with 
the College, its object being to inquire into the physical, 
intellectual and moral condition of the world, and hence to 
discuss questions of personal duty. It has a library of 
considerable size and a collection of a few hundred objects 


from foreign countries illustrating the arts and habits and 
especially the polytheism of foreign lands. These were sent 
chiefly by missionaries, some of whom were formerly members 
of the Society. These objects were formerly in one of the 
rooms of North College, which was destroyed by fire, but 
most of them were rescued without much injury and are now 
exhibited in a fine room in the upper story of South College. 
By an increase of specimens, as could easily be done, this 
room might be made one of the most attractive spots in 
College. The Society is entirely in the hands of the 
students and has always been one of the most uesful of the 
literary societies. 


In 1853, Professor Edward Hitchcock, Jr., presented a 
collection of 721 specimens of the relics of the Aborigines 
of our country, and these he has subsequently increased to 
1,100. They were collected by his own exertions through 
many years. They are placed for the present on the floor 
of the Zoological Cabinet, although obviously out of place. 
"We need much an Archaeological room for these, the coins, 
and some other things which have been described. 

It can only be an approximation to the truth which we can 
make as to the pecuniary value of our Cabinets : first, because 
the price of such objects is not well settled in our country, 
and secondly, because it varies so much at different times. 
The following estimate, I trust, is not above the truth, that is, 
the collections would bring as much in times of peace and 
prosperity : 

Specimens. Value. 

Rocks of Continent of Europe, ... 600 $300 00 

Hocks from England, COO 300 00 

Rocks from Asia, . . ... . 1,200 COO 00 

Rocks from the United States, . . . 2,200 1,200 00 



Rocks from the West Indies, 
Rocks and Fossils of Massachusetts, . 
Rocks and Fossils of Connecticut, 
Rocks and Fossils of Vermont, . 
Fossils of the Paris Basin, . . 
General Collection of Fossils, . . 
Fossils of the Permian Formations, . .- 
Plants, Fishes, &c., from various quarters, . 

Simple Minerals, 

Economic Collection from Europe, . . 
Polished Marbles, &c., 

Fossil Footmarks, 20,000 tracks, 
Zoological Cabinet, viz., 

8,000 species of Shells, 5,000 Articulated 

Animals, 250 Radiated Animals, 700 

Vertebrate Animals, 868 Amorphozoa, 

in all, . . . . . 

Plants 4,000 dried, sections, 175, seeds, 


Nineveh Gallery, in all, . . . . 
Indian Relics, ...... 

Cost of the Cabinet Buildings, including 

the Astronomical Observatory and two 

Lecture Rooms, . . . . 
Virtu 1,000 Coins, 185 Sulphur Casts, 

48 Plaster Casts, 84 Copper Medals, 

Value of Professor Shepard s Collections, 
as already stated, 

Specimens. Value. 

225 $100 00 

3,200 1,500 00 

800 400 00 

2,200 500 00 

124 50 00 

500 250 00 

100 50 00 

180 100 00 

1,900 1,000 00 

300 150 00 

172 80 00 

11,000 00 

15,000 00 

. . 1,000 00 

1,000 00 

1,100 500 00 

20,5G7 00 

350 00 

$5G,997 00 

$50,000 00 

It is now almost fifty years since I began to collect speci 
mens in natural history, but during a considerable part of the 
time it has been my pastime rather than my employment, 
though always on the lookout for opportunities to add to my 
store. For nearly forty years Professor Shepard has given 
an almost undivided attention to this work, as did Professor 
Adams, for twelve or thirteen years. Both my sons also have 
devoted much time for several years to accomplish their part 
of the work of filling up our rooms, so that I do not think it 


exaggeration to say that the collections owned by, or deposited 
in, Amherst College have required seventy or eighty years labor. 
Providence so ordered it that three of us who had labored longest 
should bring together on this hill the result of our labors. 


In August, 1859, the American Association for the 
Advancement of Science, held its meeting of five hundred 
members at Springfield. By the railroads, the [citizens of 
Amherst and the members of the College, they were invited 
to visit Amherst. They did so, en masse, and the following 
description of the excursion, that appeared in the American 
Journal of Science, and was probably prepared by Professor 
B. Silliman, Jr., will give an idea of the impression made 
upon the party by the cabinets as well as the scenery. 

" The weather throughout was as fine as possible, and the excursion 
to Amherst College, under the escort of the venerable and distin 
guished Dr. Hitchcock, was an occasion long to be remembered as 
one of the golden days of life. Members seemed lost in admiration 
of the romantic loveliness of the scenery surrounding the College, 
and in the unexpected extent, richness, and high condition of the 
scientific collections, unequalled, certainly, by those of any other 
college of the United States. Here Dr. Hitchcock has built up a 
lasting monument of his original labors in the curious department 
of footmarks on the Connecticut sandstone. This vast collection, 
vast both in the numbers and magnitude of its specimens, is now 
preserved in Appleton Hall, a new building erected specially for 
its accommodation, and on the ground floor of which these curious 
records of lost races, once denizens of this lovely Valley, are .spread 
out to the inspection of visitors. No one can form an adequate 
notion of the interest of these remarkable collections, without a 
personal inspection. 

" Whatever the Black stone of Mecca may prove to be, meteorite 
or porphyry, the scientific pilgrim to Amherst will be rewarded by 
an inspection of the largest and most important collection of meteoric 
specimens in the world, excepting that of the Imperial Museum 
of Vienna. * * * * 

"The mincralogical collection of Professor Shepard, at Amherst, 
is worthy of most particular notice. In the richness and splendor 


of its selections, the mineral species are nowhere in America, and 
seldom anywhere, so well represented. Choice specimens seem to 
have come to this celebrated collector s hands, like the fabled fish 
of the weird fisherman. Whatever was most rare or choice from 
any locality, appears to have found no rest until it was safely placed 
on his shelves. 

"No wonder, then, that amid such surroundings, and with beauty 
and festive speech at the hospitable table covered by the fair hands 
of Araherst ladies, the Association was beguiled to view the glories 
of a midsummer sunset over the picturesque ranges of the North 
ampton hills, or that they returned to Springfield late in the evening, 
full of the praise of the day and its rich entertainments." 

In a History of American Conchology, by George M. Tryon, Jr., 
of the Philadelphia Academy of Natural Science, appears the fol 
lowing notice of the Adams Cabinet. " The splendid collection 
belonging to Amherst College is a noble monument of the unflagging 
assiduity and scientific attainments of the late Professor C. B. 
Adams, who formed it. It embraces types o all his species, and 
full suites of the shells of the various West India Islands, and of 
Panama. It is esteemed by competent judges the most valuable 
collection for study in the United States." 


In an age when such strenuous efforts are made almost 
everywhere throughout the civilized world, by governments, 
by institutions of all grades, and by individuals, to gather and 
arrange natural objects, it may seem superfluous to inquire as 
to their use in a college, where its trustees profess to give a 
liberal education, and to ignore no great branch of knowledge. 
But I know full well that their cui bono is sometimes asked 
by men who profess to entertain very large views of college 
education, but having devoted themselves to some other 
speciality, are only slightly acquainted with natural history. 
It may be well, therefore, to state the most important uses to 
which collections of this sort are applicable in a college. 

1. They are indispensable to give students a knowledge 
of the natural productions of different parts of the earth, and 
without which, their views would be narrow, and they would 
be liable to constant blunders in their literary productions. 


2. When studied they help very much to sharpen the dis 
crimination and teach students how to distinguish between 
the apparent and the real. Indeed, as a means of mental 
discipline, no branch of knowledge goes before natural history, 
though from the very limited attention usually given to such 
subjects, this effect is but slightly realized. 

3. They are indispensable, also, to give facilities to any 
students who have a natural taste and fitness for such pur 
suits, to qualify themselves for future distinction in them, and 
this they can do, if the collections are good, without interfer 
ing with recitations in other branches, by devoting those leisure 
hours to the cabinets, which most give to useless recreation or 
something worse. 

4. They deeply interest and instruct the community sur 
rounding a college, and all who visit it, and thus give reputa 
tion to it. Visitors cannot be shown much in mathematics, 
or the classics, as they pass through college halls, unless 
particularly well acquainted with the subjects, and even large 
libraries are all seen at a glance. But almost every one will 
see enough in nature s products to awaken interest, inquiry 
and admiration. This explains the fact that as many as 
fifteen thousand visitors annually have registered their names 
in the Ainherst Cabinets, small and retired as the place is. 
The College could not afford to lose the influence in favor of 
the institution thus spread through the country. It turns 
the attention of many young men to this place, and when they 
learn that in all other respects the institution stands high, this 
feature often brings them here, in spite of the claims of rival 
colleges. This is not indeed the most important thing in the 
College. But we need to combine all the influences we can 
to enable the College to maintain the high position it has 
taken, and to continue its upward course. 

5. These cabinets form an anchor to steady the College in 
stormy times. Such periods of trial not imfrcquently come, 
when the temptation is to give up the ship, or transfer it to 
some other place. But though it be easy to transfer able 


teachers and funds, and even libraries, large cabinet build 
ings, with costly fixtures, cannot so easily be changed, and the 
friends of the College would be quite apt to rally around the 
fruit of seventy-five years of labor which they contain, since 
mere money cannot make their place good. 

6. These cabinets are indispensable to learn, young men 
how to defend and illustrate religion. This is their most 
important use. For I hesitate not to say, that, however other 
wise well educated a scholar is, he cannot defend Christianity, 
or even natural religion, from the subtle attacks which of late 
years have been drawn from natural history, from geology 
and zoology ; for instance, if he has not seen, and to some 
extent studied the specimens on which these objections are 
founded, he must see and examine rocks and fossils before 
he can understand the discussions raised by geology on the 
age of the world, on the eternity of matter, on the preadamic 
existence of suffering and death, on special Divine interven 
tions in nature, and on the extent of the deluge. He must 
study animals and plants, or he cannot refute the advocates 
of the development hypothesis or the plurality of origin of 
the human species. Where else but in college can those who 
mean to be ministers of the Gospel acquire such knowledge ? 
Surely not in our theological seminaries, nor in the families of 
private clergymen. The abstract, metaphysical way of treating 
those subjects which they may learn elsewhere, will only excite 
the ridicule or contempt of the able, sceptical naturalist. 

On the other hand it is only by the study of cabinets that 
theological students can learn how to use with ability those 
numerous illustrations and confirmations of religious truth 
which of late years have been derived from natural history. 
The larger part and the most striking of the proofs and illus 
trations regarding the Deity and his attributes, have been 
derived from this department of knowledge. It is a rich 
field, and furnishes, besides the case just indicated, numerous 
striking confirmations and illustrations of some of the most 
precious truths of revealed religion, as the works of Me Cosh, 
Hugh Miller, Dana, Harris, Chalmers, and many others show. 


Now in a college founded expressly to raise up men to 
defend and preach the Gospel, and nearly half of whose 
graduates have entered the sacred office, is it not of great 
importance that the means should be amply furnished for 
making them acquainted with the grounds on which religion 
has been attacked, and from which it has also been amply illus 
trated ? I should be content if only instruction enough were 
given in geology and natural history to qualify the graduates 
to understand the religious bearings of these sciences. The 
larger the cabinets the easier to give them this instruction. 
But I am afraid that but a small part of our graduates have 
attained to such knowledge. I doubt whether many of them 
would feel qualified to defend religion against the sceptical 
geologist or zoologist. 

7. Finally, large cabinets are necessary to enable instructors 
to make new discoveries in science, and trace out new religious 
illustrations. With small collections the prospect of finding 
undescribed objects would be small. And in this fact, not in 
want of ability, do we see a reason why so few professors of 
natural history add many new facts to their departments, or 
suggest new illustrations of religion. True, the want of the 
great standard books on these subjects published in Europe in 
our libraries, is another almost equally powerful obstacle to 
new discoveries as the want of specimens. But what a pity 
that in both these ways our professors should be deprived of a 
credit they ought to have the power to attain, and be com 
pelled to put into the hands of European naturalists every 
object apparently new which they meet, because they are 
afraid to describe it, lest it should have been already described 
by transatlantic naturalists. 

It is for such reasons that I have &lt justified in devoting 
so much time and effort during thirty-eight years, to build up 
and fill the Cabinets at Amherst. I have no expectation or 
wish to give the subjects of natural history here an undue 
prominence, but only to make them subserve the objects I 
have specified, and to do something towards sustaining the 
credit and popularity of the institution. All the departments 


ought to unite in an object so important to science and religion, 
not forgetting that " united they stand, divided they fall," and 
that what strengthens one strengthens the whole, and what 
weakens one weakens the whole. 


When the College was started and efforts to obtain subscrip 
tions were made extensively, of course the library was not 
forgotten, and quite a large lot of books were obtained. But 
most of them, though excellent for giving instruction in prac 
tical piety, were not well adapted for a literary institution. It 
was not till 1829 that any effort was made that enabled the 
institution to obtain standard works in literature and science. 
In connection with the subject of temperance John Tappan, 
Esq., made a donation of $500, which became the nest egg for 
nearly $4,000, with which Professor Hovey made very valu 
able purchases of books in Europe. The details of this case 
are too interesting to be lost, and I shall give them in connec 
tion with the history of temperance. 

In describing the erection of the present library building I 
have given some account of the donations and efforts of Hon. 
David Sears, John Tappan, Esq., George Merriam, Esq., and 
others, to increase the library. Mr. Sears first bequest was 
made in 1844, and another in 1847, each of the estimated 
value of $5,000, to form a Permanent Literary and Benevolent 
Fund, one object of which was the formation of a library. A 
portion of the income is to be annually added to the principal, 
so as to make it an accumulating fund, to whose increase, so 
far as any conditions have yet come to light, there is no limit, 
and Mr. Sears actually gives directions how it shall be treated 
when it reaches $200,000. A part of the income at present 
is used for the purchase of books to commence the Sears 
Foundation; especially are $120 annually to be thus used 
for the next sixty years. Here then are obviously the means 
for an immense library for future generations. How soon 
it will become a powerful feeder to the constant wants of a 


college library I am unable to determine after reading over 
many times the elaborate papers of Mr. Sears conveying the 
property. Moreover, the slightest deviation from the 
conditions stated, will forfeit the whole. 

As early as 1842 John Tappan had given $1,000 for the 
purchase of books, which furnished an invaluable addition. 
Not much more was done to increase their number till the 
bequest of Mr. Sears above described. Next came the effort 
already described in giving an account of the library building, 
by Mr. George Merriam s donation of $1,500 and the subscrip 
tion which followed, by which that sum was raised to $15,000. 
Of this sum, $10,000 were used in 1852 for a building, and 
the remainder for books. 

Many years ago a plan was started among graduates of the 
College to endow an Alumnus Professorship, and a considerable 
amount was subscribed towards it. But as the project lingered, 
it was finally concluded to change the object, and raise, if 
possible, $5,000 for books, to be expended by the graduates 
themselves. Dr. George Shepard started the subscription 
with $1,000, and the sum was finally secured, and has now, I 
believe, all, or nearly all, been expended. 

By the death of Hon. Jonathan Phillips, in 1861, it appeared 
that he had left in his will the sum of $5,000 to be expended 
in books. This, I believe, has not yet been laid out. 

As the result of these various efforts the College library now 
contains over 22,000 volumes. Each of the two literary soci 
eties, the Athenian and Alexandrian, possess 5,000 volumes, 
and the Society of Inquiry, 200 volumes. The whole num 
ber of books in the libraries of the College is 32,200 volumes. 
We wish that all the other great interests of the institution 
were as well provided for their future increase as we have 
seen this to be. And surely it should be a leading object with 
the friends of the College to get the funds into such a state 
that all its departments should have substantial means of a 
steady support and expansion, in spite of all outward fluctua 
tions and reverses in their condition. 




For the first quarter of a century Amherst College had to 
depend entirely on the patronage and benefactions of individ 
uals. She expended no small sum in repeated efforts to obtain 
a charter, and afterwards in a succession of applications for 
pecuniary assistance from the government of the State ; but 
not till the year 1846 did she receive a dollar from the public 
treasury. Those only who have had the experience know how 
much more of money than is anticipated is required to start 
and carry onward and upward a literary institution of high 
character. Did they know it beforehand not a few would 
shrink from the effort because apparently hopeless. The effort 
was particularly difficult in the case of Amherst College, 
because the founders from the first took the high ground that 
education in the new seminary should be as thorough and 
elevated as in the oldest and best colleges of the land. And 
this promise they carried through, so that from the first the 
graduates at Amherst have been able to stand shoulder to 
shoulder with those from all other institutions, in the profes 
sional schools and in public life. The very earliest of the 
classes furnished such men as Professor E. S. Snell, Dr. David 
O. Allen, the missionary, Professors Bela B. Edwards, George 
Shepard, of Bangor, and Charles U. Shepard. 

But the ability to sustain so high a standard was not the result 
of large benefactions from wealthy men. For a time, indeed, 
the agents danced attendance upon such. But Providence did 
not mean that the main object of the enterprise should be thus 
frustrated, and that was, to enlist the religious public generally 
to make it, in fact, a religious college. Hence its founders 


were obliged to resort to the community in general, and the 
subscriptions ranged from two or three thousand dollars down, 
it is said, to six cents. Certain it is that during the erection 
of the two first dormitory buildings, subscriptions were made 
in small quantities of building materials, of days works in the 
erection, and of food for the workmen, so that for the first 
building, certainly, no great debt was incurred, although its 
cost could hardly have been less than $10,000. But the men 
engaged in the enterprise were borne onward by such fervid 
enthusiasm that the idea of running in debt was a small 
matter. In one instance they brought joiners to do the work 
before the materials were procured, and then went out and 
presented this fact as a reason for making subscriptions, and 
were successful. 

The large number of students that flocked to the new Col 
lege soon after its commencement, though yet unrecognized by 
the civil authorities, and encountering powerful opposition, 
greatly encouraged its founders and led them to the conclusion 
that God sanctioned their efforts, and. therefore they were 
bound to provide accommodations and instruction for all who 
came, even though heavy debts might be incurred ; for who 
could doubt that God would raise up men in his own time to 
liquidate such debts ? Accordingly it was resolved to proceed 
at once to erect a second dormitory building, which would at 
once be filled. Money was obtained in part by subscriptions. 
In addition to the Charity Fund of $50,000, which had been 
filled up in 1819 or 1820, but which could not be used for 
building, another subscription for $30,000 was started, and I 
believe nominally filled up, though much of it was never paid, 
and probably all that was paid, as it came in slowly, was 
needed for current expenses, so that for erecting the new 
building it was necessary to depend on borrowing money. 
But here was a difficulty. What security could the Trustees 
or Treasurer give for the payment ? They had nothing but a 
single building, of no value except for a college, and the 
Charity Fund yet only partially collected. They could, how- 


ever, borrow of that fund as it came in, and they did so to what 
extent I know not. But I must think the right to do this was 
very questionable. For it was in fact converting money which 
had been obtained for educating indigent young men, to other 
purposes, since there was no adequate security, and had the 
whole enterprise failed I doubt not this course would have 
been quoted as a perversion of funds. The College, after a 
long and desperate struggle, triumphed over its pecuniary 
embarrassments, and was therefore able to pay all its indebt 
edness to the Charity Fund, and hence the correctness of this 
course was never called in question. Nor has it been subse 
quently, when money has been borrowed from the endowments 
of professorships, to erect buildings. I exonerate every one 
of the men who have acted on this principle from any inten 
tional infringement of right or justice or obligation. For 
every one of them would go to the stake rather than violate 
the feeblest dictate of conscience. But such men may mistake 
in judgment, as well as others. My own opinion is that they 
did in this instance. But I may be alone in these views ; for 
I believe it is not an unusual occurrence in the like circum 
stances for men wiser and better than I am, who act as trustees 
of some public trust, to borrow from their own funds when 
they cannot offer sufficient security to moneyed men to induce 
them to make loans. But how can they be justified as a board 
of trustees in doing what they would not probably do if acting 
as individuals in their own private affairs ? 

The Trustees of Amherst College, however, did find not a 
few, who, either because they judged it a safe investment or 
more probably from a benevolent regard to the enterprise, 
were willing to lend their money to carry it forward. And 
the opportunity was largely improved. To erect a second 
college building, and in 182G the chapel building, required at 
least $25,000, and several thousands more to meet other 
expenses. We need not, therefore, be surprised to find that 
in 1827 the College was over $30,000 in debt. The following 
details of this indebtedness have just been handed to me 


(February, 18G2) by my venerable friend, Hon. John Leland, 
who was then College Treasurer. I give the list because it 
shows some of the names that were willing to trust the College 
in those early times, though most of them demanded ample 
security, and because it shows how much was borrowed from 
the Charity Fund. 

Hon. T. Winthrop, of Boston, . . . ; $1,50000 

Deacon Warren, of Charlestown, . . . . ." 1,000 00 

Kev. Warren Fay, of Charlestown, . . . 700 00 

llev. Mr. Tolman, 500 00 

Hon. Heman Lincoln, . . . . . . . 500 00 

Rev. James Taylor, ....... 70 00 

Rev. Mr. Colburn, . . . . . . ... 350 00 

Rev. E. Perkins, . . . . . ... 530 00 

Silas Cowles, . . . . . .. . . 1,000 00 

John Hopkins, Northampton, . . . . . . 4,000 00 

Mrs. Phebe Moore, (Dr. Moore s widow,) . . . 2,000 00 

Jason Mixter, Hardwick, . . . . . . 1,66G 67 

Mrs. Dr. Humphrey, . . . . ... 600 00 

Hon. John Hooker, . . . . . . ." 700 00 

Sunderland Bank, . . " . . . . 3,000 00 

Charity Fund, . \. . . . . . . . . 10,850 00 

Sundry debts, . . ..... - . - . 1,200 00 

$30,166 67 

Whether this debt ever rose higher than $30,000 I have 
not been able to determine. But I do know that up to 1846 
it hung like a terrible incubus upon the Trustees, the Treas 
urer, and the whole College, and came near proving its ruin. 
It was a desperate conflict for a quarter of a century, and 
had not the men engaged in it been able, energetic and self- 
denying, .it would have choked the institution to death. It is 
easy to see how watchful the Treasurer must have been to 
meet the interest and. the payment of the numerous notes as 
they became due. In most cases the payment of one note 
could be made only by borrowing somewhere else, or becom 
ing personally responsible, as Deacon Leland and Lucius 


Boltwood sometimes did, probably nearly to the extent of 
their private property. When an exigency peculiarly trying 
occurred, a meeting of the Trustees would be called, and some 
plan would be devised to save the College ; and I am assured 
by Mr. Leland, and I doubt not the same has been true since 
the present Treasurer came into office, that no note or demand 
that was due ever failed to be met in season to prevent its 
being protested, which is certainly a strong testimony to the 
fidelity and ability of the Treasurers and all concerned. 

There was one pecuniary exigency of the kind above described, 
which I ought to have mentioned earlier, because it happened almost 
at the commencement of the enterprise, and I happen to have a list 
of the men who came to the rescue. After the utmost efforts, the 
Charity Fund fell $15,000 short of the sum aimed at ($50,000) as 
essential to make any subscription good ; and this, too, just before a 
committee of the legislature were to examine into the affairs of the 
College, with sagacious enemies, determined to prove the whole a 
fraud and a failure. The following ten men signed a bond to pro 
vide for the payment of the lacking $15,000 : 

Samuel F. Dickinson, Jarib White, David Parsons, Elijah Bolt- 
wood, Hezekiah W. Strong, Enos Baker, John Leland, Calvin 

Of Mr. Dickinson I have spoken in another place. Jarib White 
was one of the wealthy farmers of the town, who had lately become 
a merchant, and during the whole struggle labored with a true Puft- 
tan spirit. Dr. Parsons was the pastor of the church in Amherst, 
and highly respected through the land. Elijah Boltwood for a long 
time kept the hotel in Amherst, on the site of the present Amherst 
House. Hezekiah W. Strong was a respectable lawyer and mer 
chant, who was always ready to help on the work. Enos Baker was 
a respectable farmer, who lived near the College, as was also Calvin 
Merrill, men, it seems, ready to stand in the breach in perilous 
times. Of John Leland I need say nothing more in this place. 

It is an interesting fact that these men, who took this risk upon 
them, after having subscribed in other ways as much as they thought 
it their duty to give, were able to provide others to take this respon 
sibility upon their shoulders. But the entire country, at least the 
central part of New England, had been gone over by agents, and 
they would have failed had not the legislature sent a committee to 
investigate the affairs of the enterprise, and its enemies threatened 


also to make a formidable attack. Under these circumstances gen 
tlemen were found without difficulty who made up a purse of $15,000 
to meet the exigency, and relieve the generous signers of the bond. 
See in this result the benefit of having active enemies when engaged 
in a good cause. Sanballat, and Tobiah, and Geshem, are a very 
useful class of persons, when God s providential hook is in their 
nose and his bridle between their lips. 

To meet all the wants of the College and the interest and 
payments on the debt, it became necessary to resort to the most 
vigorous measures. As early as 182 G the Trustees had applied 
for aid to the State legislature. This was repeated in 1830, 
and several times afterwards, at intervals of a few years. 
But constantly repulsed, they made energetic appeals to indi 
vidual liberality, by means of agents. At the commencement 
of the enterprise every man acted as agent, though some were 
specially appointed. But in 1829 Rev. Dr. Vaill received a 
permanent appointment, and up to 1845 devoted much time 
to the work. In 1841, when he was reappointed, he left his 
pastoral charge that he might devote his whole time to the 
work. In 1832, several other gentlemen were appointed 
agents, with Dr. Humphrey at their head, viz., Prof. Fiske, 
Dr. Vaill, Rev. Sylvester Holmes, Rev. Calvin Hitchcock 
and Rev. Richard S. Storrs, to make an appeal to the public 
for $50,000. At another time an attempt was made to raise 
$100,000 ; but I cannot ascertain how far these efforts were 
successful. I only know that the most vigorous labors of the 
agents were barely sufficient to keep the wheels in motion, 
and pay, often tardily, the rather small salaries of the officers 
and the interest on the debt. The Rev. Dr. Vaill, the general 
agent, was industrious and faithful, and very successful, when 
we consider the obstacles in his way. He struggled manfully, 
and carried the College forward for years, when without his 
efforts it must have become bankrupt. 

But this was a Sisyphean labor, and all concerned found 
that the stone would work farther down hill, in spite of all 
their efforts to push it upwards. For though they were able 


to keep the College in operation, and even perhaps at times 
considerably to reduce its indebtedness, yet other effects unan 
ticipated, but of serious import, followed. 

1. In the first place it prevented nearly all improvement 
in the means of instruction, such as apparatus, cabinets and 
books ; also all improvement in the external aspect of the 
College, such as its buildings and grounds. Every thing wore 
the appearance of poverty and dilapidation, such as unpainted 
buildings, and muddy and break-neck sidewalks ; and if the 
educated man looked in upon the libraries and cabinets he 
saw that they were very meagre, and not fit for a college in 
the nineteenth century that made such pretensions. 

2. The inevitable effect of such a state of things was a 
reduction of the number of students. In the first fifteen years 
it had gone up rapidly to two hundred and fifty-nine, but in 
the nine following years it had sunk to one hundred and 
ciu liteen. The students and the public saw that every thing 
was going wrong, and though they understood very little of 
the cause, they preferred to go where there was progress. It 
gave the enemies of the institution also a fine opportunity to 
disparage it, and to show that they were right in predicting 
its ephemeral existence. 

3. The unpopularity of the College was made still greater 
by the repeated applications that were made through agents 
for pecuniary aid, year after year. The public at length 
became exceedingly nervous under these solicitations, and even 
the best friends of the College began to despair of its success 
unless some different system could be adopted. 

4. Such a state of things almost inevitably produces the 
impression, both in College and abroad, that some particular 
officer or officers have become unfit for their place, and should 
resign. In this case the suspicion fell upon Dr. Humphrey, 
and nothing but his resignation, it was thought among students, 
graduates and some trustees, could stop the extraordinary 
stampede which must soon leave the College without inmates. 
A famous case of discipline a few years before had implanted 


strong prejudices against the Doctor in many minds, and now 
the pretence was that he had reached incipient dotage, 
although not over sixty-five. He did resign ; but his subse 
quent history showed that he was as well qualified, physically, 
intellectually and spiritually, as he had ever been, for the place, 
and had there been funds enough to carry on the College inde 
pendently, I fancy that we should never have heard any thing 
of the unpopularity of Dr. Humphrey. Indeed, he lived to 
see the institution raised out of the slough, and he found that 
no man .was more popular or respected than he whenever he 
came back on public occasions. 

But though we who were behind the scenes and managing 
the ropes knew the cause, it did not make the fact any the less 
certain that the College had reached a painful crisis, and that 
something must be done or it would soon be too far gone for 
resuscitation. For eight or ten years I had watched its down 
ward tendency with great anxiety, and each Commencement 
season seemed to my desponding temperament more like a 
College funeral than a holiday. Yet I was hardly prepared 
for a suggestion made to me about the time when I assumed 
the Presidency in 1845, whether it would not be best to change 
the College into an Academy of a high grade. I knew that 
the enemies of the institution began to exult in the prospect 
of a result even more disastrous than this ; but I hardly 
expected such a suggestion from a Trustee of excellent judg 
ment. The fact, however, will show into how trying a condi 
tion the College had sunk, and that it was not a im-ru 
hallucination of my morbid fancy. The Trustees and officers 
knew the grand cause of our troubles ; but the world around 
us imputed it to our inefficiency and want of personal popularity 
that we did not keep the institution so popular and at so high 
a standard as to attract more students. 

But what could we do to arrest this downward tendency 
and recover our lost position ? Tlii* was the question that 
met me with emphasis when called to assume the Presidency 
in 1845. Two things seemed indispensable. The first was to 


stop the College from running in debt. The second was to 
cease soliciting the public for aid through agents. The follow 
ing plan occurred to us. Let the instructors propose for a 
limited period to take the College into their hands and agree 
to carry it forward for whatever sum may be derived from tuition 
and other ordinary sources of income, provided the Trustees 
will discontinue the services of their agent. This proposal 
met the views of the Trustees, and the following are the details 
of the plan as finally adopted. 

1. The income from term bills and from the property of the 
College, which now yields income subject to be used to pay debts or 
defray the current and ordinary expenses of the College, shall be 
placed under the direction of the President and Professors, being 
collected and disbursed in the manner it now is, and shall be used 
solely for the payment of salaries and the current expenses of the 
College, as the President and Professors may judge expedient, and 
no part thereof shall be used for paying interest or principal of the 
College debt. 

2. The salaries of the President and Professors in the College 
shall be for the President, $1,000, and for each Professor, $800 per 
annum, or in that proportion, and shall be determined and divided 
by them from the income of the College, as above named, &c. 

3. The President and Professors may perform all the duties of 
instruction, or under their recommendation the Trustees will appoint 
a Tutor or instructor, in either branch of instruction in College, to 
be compensated from the funds placed under the direction of the 
President and Professors. 

4. The appropriations to be made for chapel services, for repairs 
of the buildings, the Laboratory, the Philosophical Department, the 
care of the Library, expenses of Commencement, of attending to 
wood, fires, lights, &c., in College and around it, and for all ordi 
nary current expenses, shall be under the direction of the President 
and Professors, and defrayed from the funds aforesaid. 

5. (Essentially embraced in No. 6.) 

G. The arrangements above proposed shall take effect whenever 
the President and Professors shall all signify their assent thereto in 
writing, signed by them, and delivered to the Secretary of the 
Board of Trustees, who shall enter the same on the records of the 
Board, &c. 


7. The agency for the solicitation of funds from the community 
shall cease with the termination of the present collegiate year, and 
sooner if the agent shall have previously secured or collected the 
sums already subscribed. 

It is to be understood that the Trustees in agreeing to the fore 
going arrangements, while they manifest great confidence in the 
wisdom, ability and fidelity of the said Professors, do in no wise 
surrender their charge and trust of the great interests of Amherst 
College. Nor is it conceived, either by said Trustees or Professors, 
that the amount of instruction to be given in College is to be dimin 
ished, nor the standard of education lowered. To elevate that 
standard and improve the finances of the College, are the objects in 
view. Records of the Trustees, p. 127. 

The officers of instruction in 1845, when this arrangement 
went into effect, were myself as President, and Professors 
Warner, Fiske, Snell, Shepard and Tyler. I find a written 
assent on the Trustee Records, as required by the above 
agreement, of all the gentlemen except Professor "Warner, 
who had only recently joined the College. But as he was 
known to be in favor of the plan it was suffered to go into 

In my Report to the Trustees the next year, after the plan 
had been in operation a little more than a year, I stated that 
though impossible to determine exactly what would be the 
amount of our salaries, we had then received as follows: 
Myself, $550, each professor $440. But Hon. Samuel Wil- 
liston had generously presented us with $300, and Hon. 
Andrew W. Porter with $200, increasing my receipts to $710 
and those of the professors to $525. What amount was real 
ized the next two years, I am unable to state, but at the close 
of the three years trial, when the pecuniary state of the 
College was wonderfully changed, the Trustees directed the 
Treasurer to pay the officers whatever deficiencies had existed 
in their salaries, with interest. This was neither suggested 
nor expected by the professors, who made the sacrifice uncon 
ditionally. Nor was this the first time when they were called 
to such a sacrifice, for only the year before they were request- 


ed to yield $200 of their salaries, which they did cheerfully. 
As shown by the above agreement they were then reduced per 
manently by that amount. From 1827 to 1836, it had been 
$800. It was then raised to $1,000, and continued thus till 
1845. The three following years we got what we could, and 
in 1848 it was raised to $900. Since then it has been made 
higher once or twice, and is now $1,200. That of the Presi 
dent is $1,500, with enough from perquisites, including $100 
for preaching, to raise it to nearly $2,000. 


Knowing thoroughly the gentlemen with whom I was asso 
ciated, I felt confident that if the experiment we had under 
taken would succeed in any hands, it would be theirs. I have 
already given some facts respecting all of them, showing my 
views of their character, save Professors Warner and Tyler. 
The former had indeed but recently joined us, but he had 
shown himself in other important positions to be of the right 
stamp for carrying on a great Christian enterprise. As pastor 
of a church in Medford, and professor in the Gilmanton Theo 
logical Seminary, he was well known by literary and religious 
men. Though talented and well acquainted with the various 
branches of literature, yet all his acquirements were subordi 
nated to piety, and wherever duty pointed he followed, and 
whatever sacrifices that demanded were cheerfully made. 
His work was performed ably yet noiselessly, not to gain 
popular applause but to satisfy his conscience and please God ; 
and though he resigned his place several years ago, he still 
resides in the town, the amiable, Christian gentleman, devoted 
to letters and to doing good. 


William S. Tyler joined the senior class in 1829, at 
Amherst, and graduated in 1830, with the second honor. 
He served as tutor from 1832 to 1834. In 1836 he was 
appointed Professor of Latin and Greek, which chair he held 


till 1847, when he became Professor of Greek and Hebrew, 
which place he still holds, so that he has been professor twenty- 
seven years, and it is thirty-one years since he became con 
nected with the Faculty. He has ever been an indefatigable 
student, and most faithful in every position he has occupied. 
Pie has not those qualities which give a man brilliant success 
at first, but become less attractive after a time, and even make 
him, perhaps, unpopular. On the other hand, his early efforts 
were not very successful in securing popular favor. But those 
who could read character best saw in his superior natural abili 
ties, his unflinching fidelity and habits of study, the germ of 
future eminence. Accordingly his course has been steadily 
onward and upward in scholarship, in reputation as an instructor 
and a Christian. The numerous learned articles he has pub 
lished in the journals, and his notes upon the classics, have given 
him a high rank among American scholars, and his work on 
Prayer for the Colleges, and the Life of Dr. Lobdell, have 
given him a like rank among religious writers. The Univer 
sity of Cambridge, in testimony of their high sense of his 
merits, conferred on him in 1857 the degree of Doctor in 

The qualities which have made Professor Tyler so great a 
blessing to the College, have been his promptness and fidelity 
in every literary duty, and his energetic efforts for the religious 
welfare of the students. It is one thing to have an officer in 
college brilliant and talented, sure to be applauded in an off 
hand speech, but negligent in his daily duties, and refusing all 
extra labor, and quite another thing, to have one always at 
his post five minutes before the time, performing with equal 
promptness unpleasant as well as pleasant duties, not seeking 
by story-telling and other clap-trap, to get applause, but 
striving thoroughly to drill and to fix principles in the minds 
of his pupils ; not waiting to be compelled, but voluntarily 
offering to perform, extra duties in those exigencies that are 
frequently occurring in the management of a college. Dr. 
Tyler has always belonged decidedly to the latter class, and 


has done very much to make the machine move freely and 
easily. Equally prompt and faithful has he been in public 
and private efforts for the religious welfare of the students. 
This duty he has regarded, not only theoretically but practi 
cally, as paramount to every other, although not in conflict 
with any other, nor its performance an apology for the neglect 
of any other. But if they should come into conflict, he Avould 
give religion the first attention. It is this principle, imper 
fectly acted upon, that has given Amherst College its strongest 
hold upon the religious community, and the secret power by 
which it has done what it has for the world. And no one has 
done more than Dr. Tyler, to give a practical elucidation of 
the principle. 

It was with no misgivings then that I took hold of this 
financial experiment with such men, most of whom I knew 
thoroughly by having labored with them so many years. I 
knew that they engaged in this enterprise from religious 
motives, and therefore, as I remarked in my Valedictory 
Address ten years afterward, " if we took hold of the work 
with but feeble hope, we had an iron will." Before the close 
of the first year, however, we had an indication of the salutary 
effect of the experiment in the receipt, as already mentioned, 
of $500 from Hon. S. Williston and A. W. Porter. It seemed 
to say to us, we will help those who are trying to help them 
selves, and we had repeated evidence afterward that such was 
the effect upon men who a little while before had become so 
tired of us that the appearance of our agent would produce a 
nervous spasm. If our faith had been strong enough we might 
also have regarded it as a sure index of the greater things 
which Providence was about to do for us, that on the very day 
of my inauguration as President the Trustees voted to accept 
of $20,000 from Hon. Samuel Williston as an endowment of 
the Professorship of Rhetoric and Oratory. The cloud, how 
ever, was permitted to hang heavy upon us for some years 
more. To show how the plans of Providence were gradually 
developed, I quote from my Valedictory Address in 1854. 
r, * 


" Our experiment had stopped the downward course of the College, 
and turned, to some extent, the prejudices of the public into sympa 
thy for us. Still we could make no improvements : our debt pressed 
heavily upon us ; we found it difficult to eke out our deficient sala 
ries ; and though our numbers slowly increased, the College seemed 
to my dejected spirits to be sinking deeper and deeper into the mire, 
and I became at length entirely satisfied that Providence did not at 
least intend to make use of my instrumentality to bring it relief. 
Oh, how little did I suspect how near that relief was, and how simply 
and easily God would alter tke whole aspect of things ! Indeed, 
when the change came, it seemed to me as obviously his work as 
if I had seen the sun and moon stand still, or the dead start out 
of their graves ; and it appeared as absurd for me to boast of my 
agency in the work, as for the wires of the telegraph to feel proud 
because electricity was conveying great thoughts through them. 
Oh, no ; let the glory of this change be now and ever ascribed to a 
special divine Providence. 

" In the discouraging circumstances in which I was then placed, as 
already described, I came to the conclusion that I must resign my 
place. Yet I felt apprehensive that in the condition of our funds, 
no one worthy the place would feel justified in assuming it, with no 
certain means of support. I therefore determined to make an effort 
to get a professorship endowed. And where was it more natural for 
me to look, than to one who only a short time before had cheered us 
by the endowment of a professorship ; and who, I trust, will pardon 
me for detailing a few items of private history, not so much because 
they illustrate his liberality, as because they show still more the 
Divine Interposition and Beneficence. 

" It had become so common a remark among the officers of 
Amherst College, that if any respectable friend should give us fifty 
thousand dollars, we should attach his name to it, that I felt sure it 
would be done ; and I recollected, too, the last words of Professor 
Fiske, when lie left us : Amherst College will be relieved : Mr. 
Williston I think will give it fifty thousand dollars, and you will put 
his name upon it. I felt justified, therefore, in saying to him, that 
if his circumstances would allow him to come to our aid in this 
exigency, by founding another professorship, I did not doubt that 
such a result would follow. He gave me to understand that in his 
will a professorship was already endowed, and that he would make 
it available at once, if greatly needed. Nay, he offered to endow 
the half of another professorship, provided some one else would add 
the other half. But as to attaching his name to the College, ho 


felt unwilling that I should attempt to fulfil that promise, certainly 
during his life. Be it so ; but how can I avoid bearing my solemn 
testimony to the obligations that will rest upon those who come 
after me, to fulfil my promise at a proper time, if they would escape 
the curse that follows ingratitude and forfeited faith. 

"The half professorship thus offered was soon made a whole one 
by Samuel A. Hitchcock, Esq., of Brimfield. And oh, what a load 
did these benefactions take from my mind ! For several years each 
returning Commencement had seemed to me more like a funeral 
than a joyful anniversary : for I saw not how the downward 
progress of the College was to be arrested. But now with the addi 
tion of thirty thousand dollars to our funds, I began to hope that we 
might be saved. But the kindness of Providence had other develop 
ments in store for us. 

" These events occurred in the winter of 1846, while the Legisla 
ture of Massachusetts was in session. We had often appealed to 
them unsuccessfully for help ; and I feared that when the generous 
benefactions of individuals should be made public, we should seek 
in vain from that quarter for the aid which in justice should be given 
us. I therefore requested permission of the Trustees, by letter, to 
make one more application to the Government. They allowed me 
to do it, and the result was a donation from the State of twenty-five 
thousand dollars. The passage of the Resolve met with less oppo 
sition than on former occasions. Perhaps the following incident, 
communicated to me by a member of the Legislature, may appear 
to the Christian to be connected with this fact. 

"The Bill for aiding Amherst College came up on Saturday, and 
met with strong and able opposition, so that its friends trembled for 
its fate. On Saturday evening a few members of that body were in 
the habit of meeting for prayer. That evening the Bill for aiding 
the College formed the burthen of conversation and of supplication, 
and each one agreed to make it the subject of private prayer on the 
Sabbath. Monday came ; the Bill was read ; but to the amazement 
of these praying men, opposition had almost disappeared, and with a 
few remarks it was passed. How could they, how can we, avoid 
the conviction that prayer was the grand agency that smoothed the 
troubled waters and gave the College the victory after so many 
years of bitter opposition and defeat ! 

" In 184G, also, Professor Shepard offered to deposit in the Col 
lege his splendid collection of minerals, meteorites, fossils, and 
animals, provided a fire-proof building were erected for its reception. 
Conscious that such an offer ought not to be neglected, I made the 


effort to obtain the requisite funds. But I should probably have 
failed, had not the Hon. Josiah B. Woods come to my aid. By his 
judicious plans and persevering personal efforts, nine thousand dol 
lars were ere long secured ; enough to erect not merely a minera- 
logical, but a geological cabinet, and an astronomical observatory. 
There seemed, indeed, but a faint prospect that the latter, when 
it was erected, would be supplied with but a few of the requisite 
instruments. Yet at the time of the dedication of the building, in 
1848, I remarked that we should be very faithless and ungrateful 
to doubt that the same Providence, which has done so much for us 
the past year, will send us a fitting telescope, if it be best for us to 
have one ; and send it too just at the right time. This prediction, 
through the liberality of the Hon. Rufus Bullock, has been fulfilled ; 
and a noble telescope has just been placed in yonder dome, which, 
through the great skill and indefatigable industry of Alvan Clark, 
Esq., who has constructed it, is one of the finest instruments of its 
size that ever graced an observatory; and its mounting has some 
important improvements never before introduced. In the hands 
of Mr. Clark, it has already introduced to the astronomic world two 
new double stars, never before recognized ; one of which is prob 
ably binary. This discovery* has already been confirmed and 
acknowledged by one of the most accomplished observers in Great 
Britain. May we not hope that this glass will perform another 
service for science, by stirring up some generous heart to endow a 
professorship of astronomy in our College at no distant day. This 
certainly is at present one of the most pressing wants of the institu 
tion. It is not creditable that the noblest of the sciences should be 
bandied about like an intruder, and be scarcely recognized in our 

We have had to wait till 1861 to see this last prediction or 
rather aspiration realized. For the Walker Professorship, 
lately endowed, embraces Astronomy as well as Mathematics. 

These things occurred in 1846. In that year, also, Pro 
fessor Adams presented to the College his great Zoological 
collection and Professor Shepard offered to deposit his splen 
did cabinet here if we could furnish a fire-proof building. In 
1847, Hon. David Sears made an addition of $12,000 to the 
Scars Foundation of Literature and Benevolence. 


See now how altered was the condition of the College! 
More than $100,000 had flowed in upon it in endowments 
and buildings in a little more than two years, as follows : 

Williston Professorship of Rhetoric and Oratory, . . $20,000 
Graves Professorship of the Greek Language and Literature, 20,000 
Hitchcock Professorship of Natural Theology and Geology, 22,000 
Donation from the State, . . .- . . . . 25,000 
Sears Foundation, . V v . . . 12,000 
The Woods Cabinet and Observatory, . . . V . 9,000 


Along with the pecuniary aid there came also a rich profu 
sion of specimens, either presented or on deposit, whose value 
is poorly expressed in money. If only half their present 
value, we must add from $35,000 to $40,000 to the above sum. 
Was it enthusiasm in me to speak of the change as follows ? : 

"Our debts were cancelled, and available funds enough left to 
enable us to go on with economy from year to year, and with 
increased means of instruction. The incubus that had so long 
rested upon us, was removed ; the cord that had well nigh throttled 
us, was cut asunder, and the depletion of our life-blood was 
arrested. Those only who have passed through such a season of 
discouragement and weakness, can realize with what gratitude to 
God and our benefactors we went on with our work. It seemed to 
us, and does still, a special act of Divine Mercy, and not the result 
of our wisdom or effort. We could not otherwise account for it, 
that the hearts of so many generous friends should have been simul 
taneously opened to help us, when again and again we had sought 
the same aid in vain. 

"Under such circumstances, as we might expect, our numbers 
have gone on increasing, until I am now able to say, that it is double 
what it was when I assumed the Presidency." 

The great additions to our funds, made in the latter part 
of 184G and the first part of 1847, had not been made public 
till after a special meeting of the Trustees, which took place 
July 6th, 1847. This was the most delightful Trustee meet 
ing I had ever attended. Those venerable men, Drs. Fiske, 


Packard, Yaill, Ely, Ide, and John Tappan, William B. 
Calhoun, George Grennell, Alfred Foster, Samuel Williston, 
Linus Child, David Mack, Ebenezer %Alden and Henry 
Edwards, whom Dr. Humphrey and myself had so often met 
with a discouraging story of debt and an empty treasury, 
were now for the first time to be told of God s wonderful 
goodness in turning our captivity and answering their long- 
continued and earnest prayers. They were to have a little 
respite before they died from the incessant demands upon 
their beneficence and labors, with which they had ever been 
met. It was a matter of high gratification to see how happy 
they were in their subsequent visits to Amherst, to see how 
everything was altered for the better, as the fruit of their 
long toil and sacrifice and prayers. 

At the meeting above described the most important votes 
passed were the following : 

Voted, That four thousand dollars from the funds of the College, 
and enough more from the $25,000 lately given by the State, to 
amount to $12,4G5, be appropriated to the immediate payment of 
the College debt ; which those sums would entirely cancel. 

Voted, That of the remainder of the $25,000 bestowed by the State, 
an adequate sum be devoted to the endowment of the Professorship 
of Chemistry and Natural History ; which will hereafter take the 
name of the Massachusetts Professorship of Chemistry and Natural 

Voted, That in consequence of the State benefaction, and the 
donations of individuals, the annual charge to the students upon 
Term Bills, be reduced from forty-eight to forty-two dollars. 

Voted, To direct the Prudential Committee hereafter, to remit the 
full amount of the regular term bills, to those students who desire 
it, and are indigent, and are preparing for the Christian ministry. 

Voted, To name the new Observatory now being erected, the 
Lawrence Observatory, in honor of Hon. ABBOT LAWRENCE, the 
largest donor for its erection. 

Voted, To name the new Cabinet, the Woods Cabinet, to com 
memorate the generous efforts of Hon. JOSIAH B. WOODS, of En- 
field, to obtain funds for its erection. 


Voted, In consequence of a temporary endowment, to create a 
Professorship of the Latin and French languages, under the name 
of the Moore Professorship, in grateful remembrance of Rev. Dr. 
MOORE, the first President of the College, and a liberal benefactor. 

Voted, To appoint Rev. A. D. Gridley, Moore Professor of the 
Latin and French Languages, with the usual salary of $800, and 
liberty to be absent a year, should he accept, and find it necessary. 

The Hon. SAMUEL, WILLISTON, of Easthampton, having offered 
ten thousand dollars, and SAMUEL AUSTIN HITCHCOCK, Esq., of 
Brimfield, an equal sum, to endow the Professorship of Natural 
Theology and Geology, Voted, That it hereafter be called the 
Hitchcock Professorship. 

The Hon. SAMUEL WILLISTON, having offered a further sum of 
twenty thousand dollars, for the support of the Professorship of 
Greek and Hebrew Voted, That hereafter it take the name of the 
Graves Professorship. 

The above sums, given to the College by Mr. Williston, with a 
professorship previously endowed by him, amount to FIFTY THOU 

The meeting closed in the afternoon, and as the students 
were yet ignorant of the whole matter, in which I knew they 
felt a deep interest, I took the opportunity at evening prayers 
to read the above votes, and I shall never forget the scene 
that followed. At first they did not seem to comprehend the 
matter, and they gave no demonstration of their feelings, 
especially as two of the Trustees were present. But as the 
successive announcements came out they could not restrain 
their feelings and began to clap, and by the time the last vote 
was read the clapping was tremendous, and when they were 
dismissed and had reached the outer door of the chapel, they 
stopped, and the cheering was long and loud. 

At the annual meeting of the Trustees, in August, they 
appointed " a committee to consider in what manner we 
should testify our gratitude to God and our benefactors, in 
view of recent favors to the College," who reported that "at 
such time as the President and Professors shall regard as 
suitable, a public meeting be held in Amherst, with an invita 
tion to the friends and benefactors of the College to be present, 


and that Hon. William B. Calhoun be requested to deliver an 
address on the occasion." 

This meeting was deferred till June 28th, 1848, in order to 
connect with it the dedication of the new cabinet and observa 
tory, which would not be finished and filled with specimens 
at an earlier date. The occasion was one of deep interest. 
The principal address was given by Hon. William B. 
Calhoun, and was a beautiful and appropriate production. In 
my address of welcome, I said : " Gratitude deep, sincere 
gratitude becomes us, and we know that we feel it ; gratitude 
first of all and above all to God. For we honestly believe 
that it was He who put it into your hearts to come to our 
help. If ever I had doubted God s special agency in influ 
encing the hearts of men to deeds of benevolence, the experi 
ence .of the last two years would have removed all my scepticism. 
Permit us, then, from a full heart, to praise God for our 
increased means of honoring Him by promoting the cause 
of benevolence. 

" Think not, gentlemen, that you are invited hither to-day 
through mere form, for the sake only of a pageant. If any of 
you know what it is to labor year after year in a cause which 
you feel to be a good and important one, but which is in a 
depressed condition, and therefore meets not with popular 
favor, if you know the heart-sinking, the mortification, the 
struggle between duty and inclination, and the alternation of 
hope and despondency of such a state, then you can realize 
our feelings for many a long year. And if you have seen 
that depressed cause suddenly assume a different aspect, and 
have felt your lungs breathe more freely, and your heart beat 
more lightly, through the liberal aid of some large-souled 
benefactor, then you can appreciate our feelings to-day." 

A few sentences from Mr. Calhoun s address (p. 22,) will 
show how these same topics affected him. He says : " The 
waning fortunes of this institution have for years brought to 
our hearts gloom, despondency, almost despair. Heaven 
again beams upon us with blessings. To Heaven let us not 


cease to offer the incense of thanksgiving." " We render our 
thankfulness and gratitude to all our benefactors. We leave 
behind us the night of gloom through which we have passed. 
We receive the College into the fellowship of new and ani 
mated hopes. The massive structures upon which are inscribed 
the names of the generous donors, rising up in the midst of 
this landscape, these hills and valleys of unsurpassing gran 
deur and beauty are now dedicated to the cause of science 
and truth. Long, ever may they stand thus dedicated. Here 
may science remain tributary to virtue, freedom, religion. 
Here may there be inscribed on all these walls and in every 
heart, Christo et ecclesiae" 

At the dinner on this occasion several distinguished gentler 
men (Professors Silliman, Senior and Junior, Rev. Dr. 
Worcester, William C. Redfield, President Wheeler, Professor 
Shepard, and many others,) made appropriate and interesting 
remarks, and several letters of the like stamp were read. I 
feel tempted to make many quotations ; but must limit myself 
to a single one from the letter of Hon. David Sears, where is 
shown his appreciation of the financial experiment undertaken 
by the officers of the College, as already detailed. " But while 
the benefactors of the College are thus honored," says he, " the 
Faculty of the College should come in for their share of grati 
tude. I have been a silent but not inattentive observer of 
them. I have been informed of their devotion to their literary 
labors, of their self-denials, of their voluntary surrender of 
a part of their moderate salaries, reserving only enough for 
a bare subsistence, to relieve the College in its necessity. 
Such disinterested zeal stands out brightly, and merits an 
honorable record." 

Thus by a rapid succession of Providential interventions, 
almost as striking as if they had been miraculous, was the 
noble ship in which many of us had ventured our all, turned 
away from a lee shore, a rocky coast and hidden shoals, into a 
smooth and open sea, refitted for her voyage, and urged for 
ward by prospering gales. Hitherto she had been compelled 


to skulk along a dangerous coast, and many a friend feared, 
and many a foe hoped, to see her go to pieces upon the rocks 
or founder in the storm, especially when they saw more than 
half of her crew abandon her as unseavvorthy, and those who 
remained seemed to have no power to stop her leaks or mend 
her sails. How gratifying to see her now bearing away under 
easy sail over an open sea, with every prospect of a prosperous 
voyage if her crew exercise only common discretion and skill- 
To drop the figure, the College had now come into possession 
of funds sufficient to cancel all its debts, improve its external 
appearance, and furnish the means of defraying its ordinar) 
expenses even in those exigencies when from any cause its 
numbers are diminished. Up to 1846 every such exigenc} 
produced an apprehension for the very life of the institution ; 
for it had not strength enough nor a basis broad enough to 
bear a heavy blow. But now the great increase of its public 
buildings, its apparatus, books and specimens, gave it ballast 
enough to keep it steady in a severe storm. Its permanence as 
one of the leading literary and scientific institutions of the 
land became now an admitted fact, unless through gross mis 
management it should again get loaded with debt and become 
extravagant in expenses. These are temptations against 
which, taught by sad experience, it should now set up a double 

Having had this long and bitter experience, I feel constrained 
to record my opinion as to certain measures adopted here and 
in many other places in analagous circumstances, that is, in 
starting literary and benevolent institutions, although that 
opinion conflicts with the views of many excellent men. It is 
not my object to cast censure upon such men ; but only to 
express the convictions which have been forced upon me by 
that stern schoolmaster, experience. 

1. In the first place I doubt the justice or expediency of run 
ning in debt to found and carry forward literary and benevolent 


It is not just to successors. It is contracting debts for them 
to pay, although never consulted, and who is willing to commit 
that power to any man? The institution comes into their 
hands thus encumbered, and the alternative is to let it go 
down or to make a desperate effort to pay the debt. The 
latter course is usually taken ; but how desperate the struggle 
often is, let the history of Amherst College attest. Surely it 
must be an urgent necessity that can justify one set of 
Christian men in forcing another set into such a conflict. I 
will not say that it is possible in every case to avoid going 
forward on credit ; and if ever justifiable it was probably so 
in the effort to build the first college building at Amherst. 
But there, as it seems to me, it should have stopped, at least 
till the first one was paid for and money was on hand for 
building another. 

Again, building on credit is much the most expensive. You 
have got to pay interest on the sums borrowed, and the salaries 
of agents, for their liquidation. In some cases those agents get 
little more than sufficient for these two objects, like the sap 
gatherer who, to save transportation, fitted up a series of 
spouts to convey the sap to the kettle ; but it turned out that 
it was all absorbed before reaching the kettle. Is it wonderful 
that benevolent men who know how much it takes to wet the 
spouts, should manifest some reluctance when solicited to pay 
old debts even to sustain very important institutions ? 

This question suggests another objection to this building on 
credit. It is much easier to get money to found a new insti 
tution than to cancel old debts. Hence those who incur 
debts inflict a double injury upon their successors, expecting 
them to make brick without straw. Nothing is more odious 
than to appeal to a man to help pay the debts of an insti 
tution contracted many years before ; and nothing is more 
adapted to make any enterprise unpopular with the benevo 
lent. Alas, we found this all painfully true in respect to 
Amherst College. With the religious public, saving local 
prejudices, it was wonderfully popular in its earlier days. 


But when our ubiquitous system of begging had been continued 
for years, we were growled at and found fault with in all 
quarters, and almost every one felt fully competent to decide 
what we ought and ought not to do. We were fast 
losing the confidence of the public. Even the Alumni 
sat in judgment upon us, and because we could not pay our 
debts nor make improvements in the College, without money, 
we were judged incompetent. Had we been out of debt, 
we might have maintained our independence and the public 
confidence. But it seemed next to impossible to recover our 
lost balance, because the public ear had become deaf and the 
public heart insensible to our solicitations. 

The temptation which this living on credit presents to Trus 
tees to adopt measures that will give early but ephemeral 
popularity to a college, which will most likely be followed 
by such a trying reaction as just described, is another 
strong argument against it. When some improvement seems 
very desirable, some new building, or books, or apparatus, 
how readily will they vote to obtain it, if they can do it by 
simply directing their treasurer to borrow the money and 
make themselves believe that Providence will raise up some 
one who will cancel the debt. If such improvement would 
give the college a wider reputation and make it more attrac 
tive, and especially enable it to compete successfully with 
some rival institution that had already secured the boon, how 
easily could they make themselves believe that there was a 
call of Providence for them to go forward. How strong the 
temptation, also, to lead them to do some things which though 
desirable with ample funds, might without much inconve 
nience be dispensed with ! I mean how much more ready 
would Trustees be to do these things than if they acted on 
the principle of never voting any improvement till the money 
for it was in their hands. 

If I were to instance improvements at Amherst, not indis 
pensable, which certainly would have been delayed if the 
Trustees had waited for funds, I should point first to the 


wide cut through the hill in front of the College, between 
them and the Woods Cabinet. If a landscape gardener had 
been consulted, he probably would not have advised the 
grading ; yet it cost $2,000, to be added to the College debt. 
The other act was the erection of a new President s house 
on a spot less desirable, in my opinion, than the site of the 
house already in possession of the College ; yet it cost $9,000, 
and added over $6,000 to the debt. Ought it not to have 
been a matter of stern necessity that should thus add $8,000 
to a, debt which already had well nigh throttled the institu 
tion ? In another place I have given my views of the new 
President s house compared with the old one. If I were 
again to take the Presidency, I should prefer, all things 
considered, to live in the old one. Yet the Trustees acted in 
both these cases, I doubt not, with conscientious sincerity. 

For these reasons, chiefly, I am persuaded that the true 
principle in starting and sustaining colleges and other insti 
tutions dependent on public benefactions, is not to go forward 
to build and make other improvements unless the requisite 
funds are actually obtained, except perhaps in very extreme 
cases. As an individual, I should not feel justified in 
running into debt to build a house, in the expectation that 
my children would somehow or other pay for it ; why, as a 
Trustee of a public institution, should I do an analogous 
thing? It might, indeed, retard its progress, to wait till 
funds could be obtained; but though the growth might be 
slower, it would be much surer, and there would be no disas 
trous reaction, so that in the end there would be no loss of time. 
If this principle had been adopted at Amherst College, I think 
it would have reached its present elevated position several years 
earlier than it has done, and all the anxiety and vexation and 
desperate effort which it has cost to raise it out of the debtor s 
prison, would have been saved. 

It may be said that by this principle many an important 
enterprise would utterly fail, because funds could not be 
obtained beforehand. In such a case, if after the most perse- 


vering and prayerful efforts, they could not be secured, I 
think we might reasonably conclude that Providence did not 
intend it should succeed. 

The extraordinary success that has attended some of the 
orphan asylums of Europe, where this principle was adopted, 
is a striking evidence of its truth. Francke acted on this 
principle at Halle, and his asylum, now more than one hun 
dred years old and still flourishing, shows its potency. Yet 
more strikingly have the labors of Muller at Bristol shown us 
how God helps those who help themselves. I do not say 
that I should adopt all the views of Muller. But when he 
contends that we have no right to run in debt one pound 
beyond our means, I feel that he has both Scripture and 
reason on his side. There have been no reactions and pull- 
backs in his gigantic establishment, just because he waited till 
he could -pay for every thing as he went along. I mean as to 
the erection of buildings. 

The Female Seminary at South Hadley is another example 
nearer home of the correctness of this principle. For not till 
the requisite funds were in the hands of the Trustees were the 
brick and mortar put into requisition, nor have any debts been 
incurred there for any purpose that could not be paid when 
demanded. And now for twenty -five years has that institution 
enjoyed uninterrupted prosperity. It was hard work to get 
the funds at first ; but by adopting John Elliott s principle 
that "prayers and pains through Jesus Christ will do any 
thing," success crowned the effort. 

In the erection of the Library Building the Trustees of 
Amherst College acted on the principle for which I contend. 
They would not proceed in the work till the requisite funds 
were in their hands, and as the result the enterprise was carried 
through without the slightest difficulty. The bills were all 
promptly met, and no imperative demands for interest upon 
an impoverished treasury made a vexatious finale as was the 
case with most of the other buildings. 


May I be allowed to say that I have myself found the value 
of this principle in my efforts to enlarge the cabinets at 
Amherst College. I have obtained not less than $30,000 for 
buildings and specimens. But I have rigidly adhered to the 
principle never to advance money for any purpose until it was 
in my hands, though in some cases strongly tempted to do so 
by some favorable offer which might soon be withdrawn. The 
result is that I have never had the slightest difficulty in any 
pecuniary matter connected with the erection of the Appleton 
and Woods Cabinet, the Geological Lecture Room, the Nine 
veh Gallery, or in purchases for the cabinets. I acted just as 
I would in my own private dealings ; that is, never, if possible 
to avoid it, to run in debt. Professor Adams was tempted to 
anticipate the income of the Natural History Fund by some 
$350, because some good opportunities offered for purchase. 
But he died, and this money could legally be refused payment 
to the estate. The Trustees, however, out of regard to the 
afflicted family, paid it over. How much better, thought I, to 
keep one s ledger free from such balances. 

2. In the second place, I doubt the expediency of the very 
common practice of laying out large sums for dormitory build 
ings in founding a new college. For almost any of our country 
villages, even one as small as Amherst, could easily furnish 
comfortable rooms enough for students to study and sleep in. 
Certainly there are enterprising men enough in every village 
who would soon provide such rooms if there were a reasonable 
prospect of renting them. A building for recitations and 
prayers is indeed needed early, and then will follow after a 
time other rooms for library, cabinets, laboratory, and other 
public rooms. But not till all these are provided need dormi 
tory rooms be built if built at all. 

Now most Boards of Trust lay themselves out vigorously at 
the very first to provide private rooms for the students, and 
generally by the time these are finished all their available 
means are exhausted, and even large debts incurred, and then 
public rooms can be built only by plunging deeper in indebt- 


edness. So that sometimes by the time a college is ready 
fairly to start they are so exhausted of means as to be com 
pelled to suspend operations entirely ; or, as at Amherst, a 
struggle commences which requires great strategic skill, 
unusual financial ability, much self-denial, and unflinching 
courage for a quarter of a century, before the victory is gained. 
What a relief to that institution it would have been had its 
founders been convinced that the $45,000 which have been 
laid out in dormitory buildings might have been saved or 
diverted to other purposes ! 

I know that the impression prevails widely that it is far 
safer to the morals of students to have them congregated in 
large dormitory buildings than to be scattered through the 
community. I must say that my own observation for many 
years does not sustain such an opinion, but rather the reverse. 
Some peculiar temptations may meet them thus scattered ; but 
not so many, I think, as to be isolated from public inspection 
entirely among their own kith and kin, with whom it is a 
point of honor not to reveal the delinquencies and immoralities 
of their fellows. 

I shall spend but little time in detailing the financial history 
of the College since its passage through the Red Sea of diffi 
culties in the pathway made through the waters parted by the 
wand of Providence. Though we found ourselves with funds 
enough to pay our debts and meet ordinary expenses, yet the 
wants of the institution had become numerous, and to make it 
such as it ought to be we still needed the fostering care of 
individual beneficence as well as the exercise of rigid economy. 
Still we have found it easier to persuade wealthy and benevo 
lent gentlemen to aid us than during our most needy condition, 
because they were then fearful that we might sink in the 
struggle, and then all their donations would be lost ; but now 
they see that permanence is inscribed upon our walls and that 
their benefactions are sure to bless a long succession of gener 
ations. I doubt not that such impressions had some influence 
in procuring the $10,000 for the Appleton Cabinet; perhaps 



also the $1,165 for the Nineveh Gallery; the $1,000 for the 
Geological Lecture Room, and the thousands of dollars for the 
purchase of footmarks and other specimens. Also, at more 
recent dates, the benefactions of S. A. Hitchcock, Dr. "Walker, 
David Sears, Jonathan Phillips, and others, for scholarships 
and books. But perhaps the best way to give an idea of the 
present state of the finances will be to copy several items from 
the Treasurer s Report. 


Williston Professorship of Rhetoric and Oratory, 
Principal, . . . . . . . . . $14,10050 
Income, ... . . . . . . 827 50 

Graves Professorship of Greek and Hebrew, 

Principal, . . . 20,00000 

Income, . 1,200 00 

Hitchcock Professorship of Natural Theology and Geology, 

Principal, . . . .... . . . $22,000 00 

Income, 1,773 39 

Massachusetts Professorship of Chemistry and Natural History, 

Principal, $15,000 00 

Income, . 1,12G 00 

Charity Fund, (1863,) Principal, 61,287 00 

Annual Income, July, 1863, 3,205 00 

Stimpson Fund, 16,000 00 

Income, 960 58 

Moore Scholarships for Indigent Students looking to 

the Ministry, 7,850 00 

Income, (one-third to be added to Principal,) . . 476 47 

Adams Benevolent Fund, ($125 of income to be paid 
the Congregational Society in Milford, $120 to indi 
gent, meritorious students in College, never over $50 
apiece, and the balance to the College Library,) 

Principal, , 6,000 00 

Income, 285 00 

Porter Scholarship, (student to be selected by him 
self for thirty years,) Principal, . . ... 1,00000 
Income, 60 00 

Hitchcock Scholarships, (given by S. A. Hitchcock for 

indigent, meritorious students, $100 each,) Principal, 10,000 00 

Income, 600 00 




Sears Foundation of Literature and Benevolence, (one- 
half the income to be added to the principal, $1-!0 
to the Library, and the rest to College purposes,) 

Principal, $14,700 00 

Income, . . . . . . .,. . 708 80 

Thirty shares in Randolph Bank, .... 3,000 00 
Income, . . . . 300 00 

Ten shares in Connecticut River Railroad, original 
value, . . . . . . . _ 1,000 00 

Income, . -. . 30 00 

President s House and Lands adjoining, ... 9,000 00 

Dwelling House in Amherst, cost, . . . . 3,250 00 

Income, . . * 200 00 

Legacy of Hon. Jonathan Phillips, for the Library, . 5,000 00 
Income, . . 300 00 

Samuel Appleton s Donation for Instruction in Agri 
culture, 850 00 

Grant from the Massachusetts Legislature, upon the sale 
of the Back Bay Lands, a part already paid, and the 
whole to be paid in August, 1863, . . . . 25,00000 

Legacy from Richard Bond, Esq., the income to be used 

for the general purposes of College, . . . 4,000 00 

Legacy of Hon. William Reed, available upon the 

decease of two nieces, 5,000 00 

Donation from C. Baldwin, not available for some 

years, . . . .. . . . . ; 4,00000 

Donation from M. H. Baldwin, . . . -. : . 3,50000 

Donation of Dr. J. W. Walker, to endow a Professor 
ship of Mathematics and Astronomy, . . 25,000 00 

From the same, for half the cost of a new Philosoph 
ical Cabinet, . . . . . , . .. 20,000 00 

From the same, for Mathematical Prizes, . . . 2,000 00 

Donation for Mathematical purposes. .... 10,000 00 

$5,000 each from Samuel Williston, Samuel A. Hitch 
cock, Esq., and James Smith, Esq., of Philadelphia, 
with smaller sums from other individuals, to make 
up the other half, for the Philosophical Cabinet, . 20,000 00 

Grant from the Legislature of }863, for aid to the Nat 
ural History Department, . f , ... 2,50000 

The last of the above items came to us as a special gift of 
Providence, The Trustees threw in a petition to the legjsla- 


ture pointing out Amherst as a proper place for the Agricul 
tural College endowed by Congress. This failed; but was 
followed up by another petition for aid in the Natural History 
Department on the ground that the like aid had been bestowed 
upon the Zoological Museum at Cambridge, and some other 
institutions. This petition we follo wed up perseveringly. I 
went down to Boston three times in the course of the winter, 
in so feeble a state that I was obliged to be accompanied by my 
wife. Success crowned our efforts ; not indeed to the extent 
of our deserts, but enough to afford us important help. I trust 
that the greater part of it will be . devoted to Palaeontology. 
Indeed, the Prudential Committee have directed the Curator 
to visit important localities, and the result already has been a 
valuable collection of the annelid and other tracks of Central 
New York, as well as other important fossils. 

Three of the above Funds, by the terms on which they were 
presented, must go on increasing in amount, viz. : the Charity 
Fund, the Sears Foundation, and the Moore Scholarships. 
So far as I can see this increase can never be stopped without 
forfeiting the principals, and heirs enough in such a case will 
always be found to take possession. We might speculate upon 
the effect of this endless expansion, and perhaps show that it 
must operate disastrously. But as posterity only are con 
cerned, we leave it to them to settle difficult questions, confi 
dent that they will complain less of an excess of funds than if 
their progenitors had sent down heavy debts for them to pay. 

Of the Funds given to assist indigent students three of the 
above are devoted to such, and to such only, as have made up 
their minds to enter the gospel ministry. These are the 
Charity Fund of $61,287, the Stimpson Fund of $16,000, and 
the Moore Scholarships of $7,850 ; amounting in all to 
$85,137. Moreover, one-sixth of the income of the Charity 
Fund is added to the principal, and one-third that of the 
Moore Scholarships, so that some time or other they must 
furnish money enough to educate all the evangelical young 
men in the country studying for the ministry. Fortunately 


the Charity Fund docs not limit its benefactions to one denom 
ination, but embraces all that are evangelical, viz. : Congrega- 
tionalists, Presbyterians, Baptists, Methodists, Episcopalians, 
&c. Moreover, the benefactions need not be confined to 
paying the tuition merely ; but might be extended to board; 
clothing, or any other needful expenses, nay, to the erection 
of buildings, purchase of books, or cabinets, or any thing else 
necessary to give scholars a complete education. This Charity 
Fund was the corner-stone on which the College was originally 
founded; it has been our sheet anchor during winds and 
storms, and it seems destined in the future to give the rising 
tree an indefinite expansion, and fruit beyond our ability to 

There are three Funds in the above list also that do not 
require the recipients of the income to have decided upon their 
profession, or even to be hopefully pious ; but only that they 
be needy, of good morals and of good talents and scholarship. 
These are the Hitchcock Scholarships of $10,000, the Adams 
Benevolent Fund of $6,000, and the Porter Scholarship of 
$1,000, amounting in all to $17,000. Only about fourteen 
students can be aided at the same time by these funds, and 
that only in sums from $50 to $100. This is indeed a noble 
beginning. But from what I have learnt by long acquaintance 
with this class of students, I cannot but think that future donors 
to the College would most advance not only the cause of learn 
ing but of religion by enlarging this fund rather than that 
which assists the candidates for the ministry. Not unfre- 
quently the finest scholars among the indigent, although appa 
rently not far from the kingdom of heaven, have not yet 
become decidedly religious, or are not ready to make up their 
minds as to a profession. But if they could be aided to go 
forward we might strongly hope that before their collegiate 
course is finished both these points would be satisfactorily 
settled ; or at any rate such a character and habits, both moral 
and intellectual, as such benefactions require, would train up 
for other professions a most desirable set of men. I look to 


the day as not far distant, when the Funds of the College in 
aid of the indigent will be as extensive and have as indefinite 
an increase for those who have not, as for those who have, made 
up their minds as to a profession. 

In one of the Funds above given I think I discern the germ 
of an indefinite enlargement of our Library. I refer to the 
Scars Foundation of Literature and Benevolence. Unless I 
quite mistake the somewhat technical terms in which the gift 
is conveyed, Mr. Sears has an eye to this object. He speaks 
of one of the estates presented by him as " forever to be a 
source and afford a supply, as a river affords a supply of water 
to the ocean, by which the capital of said fund is to be annually 
increased." He gives direction how the fund shall be used 
when it has reached a hundred thousand dollars, then for two 
hundred thousand, and so on "through all time." From 
another estate he requires that $120 shall be devoted to books 
for sixty-six years, and all the income that goes to the College 
may be used for the Library, or when large enough, for a 
Library Building. It seems to me that if a large part of the 
future income of this Literary and Benevolent Fund be not 
devoted to an indefinite increase of books, it will not be used 
as the donor intended. 

The Natural History Fund of $5,000, producing $300 
annually, will also do something to increase the cabinets, 
although insufficient to make very rapid or large additions. 
Here, too, we perceive the principle of indefinite increase, so 
that we may regard it as the law which Providence has 
impressed upon all the great interests of the College. It 
seems to me to be Providential that all these interests are 
thus provided for. I cannot impute it to chance that so many 
different benefactors, without knowing one another s plans, 
should thus have provided for an indefinite increase of men, 
of means, of books, and of specimens. It impresses us with 
high hopes as to the future destiny of the College if those who 
conduct its affairs are wise and faithful. 


For a few years past the Treasurer has reported a consider 
able debt, which has been accumulating ; and I confess 1 have 
been a little anxious about it, lest the College should again 
get into the slough, out of which it took twenty years to extri 
cate it. But the very gratifying Report of the Treasurer for 
1863 has relieved my apprehensions ; for it shows that the 
Trustees have now the means of wiping out all their debts? 
and affording relief at any points where there was a pecuniary 
pressure. And I am sure that they will take the earliest 
opportunity to apply the sums to be received in August from 
the Back Bay Lands to accomplish these most desirable 
objects, and enable the College to follow the apostolic direction 
to owe no man any thing. This is the true point to be . aimed 
at by the College ; and if its guardians can succeed in keeping 
it on this high ground they may be sure of prosperity. But 
if under any pretence they allow debts to accumulate, as in 
former years, they may be sure of embarrassment and trouble. 

August 1st, 1863. Commencement has now passed, and it 
is gratifying to learn that the Trustees acted fully according 
to these principles at their late meeting. With the $18,800 
just received from the State from the Back Bay lands, they 
voted to cancel all their debts, and then appropriated several 
thousand dollars to repairs upon the President s house and 
the reconstruction of the much worn and defaced Johnson 
Chapel. They also voted to proceed at once to the erection 
of the Walker Hall, upon which, by the terms of Dr. Walker s 
gift, forty thousand dollars are to be expended. 

The expenses of the College for 1862-3, were between 
$18,000 and $19,000. 




The College was started before the beginning of the modern 
temperance movement in our country. But the character of 
its members would lead us to expect that they would be fore 
most in such an enterprise. They did indeed go much ahead 
of the community as teetotalers. This was as early as 1829, 
and though the cause of temperance was then making some 
headway, it was only total abstinence from ardent spirits. 
Indeed, an officer in the American Temperance Society 
strongly rebuked me in the journals because I urged the 
students to pledge themselves against fermented liquors also. 
I do not, however, claim the credit of first starting them on 
this track. That was done by John Tappan, Esq., of Boston, 
one of the earliest, most thorough and consistent friends of 
temperance in our country. He saw early that for young 
men in college to be pledged against ardent spirits only, while 
free to use wine and other fermented liquors, is rather a farce. 
Moreover, Mr. Tappan had a strong antipathy to the use of 
narcotics, especially tobacco and opium, knowing how often the 
habit is connected with or leads the way to intemperance in 
drink. Hence in 1829 or 1830 he proposed to the students 
of the College that if they would form an association pledged 
against the use, as articles of luxury or diet, of ardent spirits, 
wine, opium and tobacco, he would present them with $500, to 
be disposed of as they saw fit. They concluded to form the 
association, but rejected the money lest it should be said they 
were bribed. But Mr. Tappan sent on the money to the 
College to be used in the purchase of books. We used it as a 


nucleus around which to accumulate $3,000 or $4,000, which 
Professor Hovey took to Europe and employed it for making 
the most important early addition ever made to the library. 
Thus did this effort of Mr. Tappan secure two very important 
objects for the College, and we have seen how another s. inn 
from him was the means of accomplishing a third object of 
great scientific value, viz. : the filling up of the Ichnological 
Cabinet. His other contributions to the College have been 
numerous, and I have no hesitation in placing him among the 
most valuable of our benefactors. 

We called the new association the Antivenenean Society, or 
the society against poisons, (anti, against, and venenum, poison.) 
The original pledge which we signed was as follows : 

" Whereas, the undersigned, Officers and Students in Amherst 
College, are convinced that it is best for us to dispense with Ardent 
Spirit, Wine, Opium and Tobacco as articles of luxury or diet : 
Therefore, Resolved, That, relying on Divine Aid, we hereby pledge 
to one another our mutual promise, that while connected with this 
Institution we will abstain entirely from these articles except as 
Medicines, and the use of Wine at the Lord s Supper." 

This document is dated "Amherst College, August, 1830," 
and seems to have been adopted and signed just before Com 
mencement. It was signed by all the officers and by 26 out 
of 33 Seniors, 36 Juniors out of 7o ; 23 Sophomores out of 
47, and 33 Freshmen out of 53; in all 118 out of 208. In 
October of the same year a new class entered, 33 out of 37 of 
whom signed the pledge. From that time to the present I 
have offered it to each of the classes as they have entered, and 
will give a list of the numbers that have added their names to 
the roll, which has now got to be twenty-three feet long, and 
contains on a part four columns and on a part three columns 
of names. To unroll this before a class generally produces a 
strong impression, as it ought to do, and such an array of the 
names of their predecessors in College calls loudly upon them 
to follow the example. 


Perhaps I ought to give the names of the officers of the 
College, which stand at the head of the list, embracing every 
Professor and Tutor for 1830, 1831 and 1832. They are as 
follows : 

Heman Humphrey, Edward Hitchcock, N. W. Fiske, 
Solomon Peck, Samuel M. Worcester, E. S. Snell, William 
P. Paine, Sylvester Hovey, Story Hebard, Ezekiel Russell, 
Justin Perkins, William S. Tyler, Ebenezer Burgess, Calvin 
E. Park, Amos Bullard, Jr., Jonathan B. Condit, W. H. 
Tyler, S. B. Ingram, Charles E. Washburn, Thomas S. 
Miller, Lyman Colman. 

I ought also to state, before giving the list, that the pledge 
above given continued unchanged till 1849, when there was a 
modification, as the following preamble and votes will show : 

"At a meeting of the Antivenenean Society, holden Nov. 15th, 1849, 
the following Preamble and Votes were unanimously adopted : 

" Whereas, among the articles prohibited by the Pledge of the Anti 
venenean Society, intoxicating drinks are decidedly the most injuri 
ous to the community ; And whereas, some individuals are willing 
to pledge themselves to abstain from intoxicating drinks, who still 
use some of the other substances named in the Pledge : And whereas, 
it is desirable that those who agree in important principles should 
unite in their defence, even though they may differ on other points : 

"Therefore, Voted, That the following Pledge (inserted below) be 
substituted for the one that has hitherto been adopted by the Society. 

" Voted, That if any one in signing the new Pledge shall prefix a 
star to his name, it will be understood that he adopts both Pledges ; 
but if he prefix no star, the new Pledge only will be binding upon 


"We, the undersigned, officers and students of Amherst College, 
relying on Divine Aid, pledge to one another our mutual promise 
that while connected with the Institution we will not use Intoxicating 
Drinks as a beverage." 

Quickened in memory by these statements, I find that I 
have not gone far enough back to trace the earliest starting 
point of the Antivenenean Society and the preparation there 


was among the students for Mr. Tappan s proposition. The 
truth was that early in 1830, or I think still earlier, he had 
offered a premium of $50 for the best essay on alcoholic and 
narcotic substances. That prize was awarded to me, and my 
essay published under the direction of the American Temper 
ance Society, I believe, as early as 1829. In the spring of 
1830, I volunteered to give nine lectures on diet, regimen and 
employment, to the students of the College, the fourth of 
which was the prize essay. I had made such arrangements 
that the lectures were going through the press while I was 
delivering them, though the fact was unknown to the public 
till the last lecture, when I held up the completed volume 
before my audience. It will show the interest excited in the 
subject, to state that though the work would immediately be 
offered for sale, the students felt constrained to offer me a vote 
of thanks, and to endorse my plan for the publication of the 
lectures. I feel much gratification as I now read the vote of 
the committee conveying these sentiments, because I find 
names that have since become eminent through the world, 
viz. : those of H. B. Hacket, Peter Parker, Lyman Gibbons 
and H. D. Humphrey. I cannot but feel that the early stand 
they took on the subject of temperance, in eating as well as 
drinking, may have had much to do with their subsequent 
success and usefulness. 

My lectures closed May 6th, 1830, and the Antivenenean 
Society was not formed as we have seen till August, There 
was therefore not a little preparation, which may show how so 
large a proportion of the members of College came at once 
into the measure, although so far ahead of the state of public; 
opinion. But the following list of the number who have joined 
the society from 1830 to 1862, will show how strong a temper 
ance phalanx has existed in the College : 






O (A 






1 w 



^S ^H 


^H S 




<i +* 


1830, August, 
1830, October, 

























































































































1 &*1*"S J.P 









103 J 

All Classes. 

f New Pledge. 

t One in 14. 

From these figures we see that in the last thirty-seven classes, 
embracing 2,033, 1,485, or just about three-quarters, have 
connected themselves with this society ; and of the 615 who 
have joined it since the adoption of the new pledge, one 
hundred and three, one in six, have not pledged themselves 
against opium and tobacco. To one who, like myself, knows 
how little effort has been made to obtain these results, they 
are gratifying. The rule which we adopted at the first, was, 
that the President of the College should be also the President 
of the Society, and the Secretary hold his office during good 
behavior. Dr. Humphrey accordingly presided during the 
first fifteen years, and I was Secretary. Since that time I 
have been President, and Professor Tyler Secretary, Dr. 
Stearns having requested me to continue President after his 
election. As a matter of fact, I believe I have offered the 
pledge to every class, though Professor Tyler has been gen 
erally present. We have done nothing except to spend say 
half an hour in making the class understand the character 


of the Society, and stating to them that we wanted only true 
men to subscribe. Very rarely have there been any extra 
meetings during the year, or any other means taken to awaken 
an interest in the subject, though I believe Mr. Gotigh has 
once or twice lectured at Commencement, at the request of the 
Society. I ought also to say that in some years pressing 
duties prevented me from offering the pledge till some months 
after the class had joined College; and in such cases, I 
always found that the numbers who joined were less than 
when it was offered early. The fact is, within a month or 
two students who join college generally get their companions 
chosen, and find their way into the channels of college life in 
which they will continue through the whole course, unless 
God s Spirit meet them in their path. If they find out that 
a temperance pledge will be in their way, or unpleasant to 
the companions they have chosen, they will of course think 
it best to keep clear of it. I have often looked with sadness 
upon a fine, susceptible and talented young man refusing the 
pledge, because I feared he was deciding his fate, by refusing 
to take the only safeguard that could prevent his ruin ; and 
the result has often confirmed my fears. But when such a 
young man came forward promptly and put down his name, 
I have marked him as destined for distinction, and accordingly 
I find that out of thirty valedictorians, as many certainly as 
twenty-two, and I believe more, have been pledged Anti- 

At first our Diplomas contained a lithographic view of the 
Colleges from a north-west stand-point, and beneath it a 
certificate o f membership, signed by the President and Secre 
tary, giving the pledge in full. Subsequently, another plate 
was prepared, differing little from the first, except that a foun 
tain, (ideal, of course, as none exists there,) was placed in 
front of the Colleges, near where the Woods Cabinet now 
stands. Still more recently, aided by the continued benefac 
tions of Mr. Tappan, we got Mr. Billings, of Boston, distin 
guished for his skilful designs, to prepare a vignette, which, 


with a blank certificate beneath, we had engraved on steel, 
so that now the Society has the means, at a, very slight 
expense, of furnishing very elegant diplomas. 

This plate represents Minerva, the goddess of "Wisdom, 
offering the pledge of temperance to a student, at the same 
time pointing him to Temperance, with a garland of victory 
in her hands. Behind Minerva are several philosophers, 
and one of them is putting upon a tablet the names of the 
neophytes. Above, in the clouds, are Apollo and the Muses. 
On the right is a fountain of water, from which a servant is 
filling a pitcher, and hard by is an altar on which Eyxgdreiu 
(Temperance) is inscribed, and on the left hand another altar, 
with So(f-ln (Wisdom) written upon it. Beneath is placed 
the title of one of Anacreon s Odes " "AQUJTW iit> vduo " 
" Water is indeed best." 

This Society has not accomplished what it might have done 
if more carefully nourished and given a higher prestige. My 
conviction has been that occasional meetings where the officers 
of the College would meet the students and without much 
formality talk upon temperance, would have been of great 
service, judging from the few meetings of this kind which have 
been called. Moreover, we should be more decided than we 
have been, to erase the names of those who have violated the 
pledge, which I do not recollect to have been done but in a 
single instance. Complaints have often been made that mem 
bers have often showed but little regard to the pledge. It 
may have been so in some instances. But what shall we think 
of tlie moral character of that young man who has pledged his 
honor and called on God for help, and yet recklessly disregards 
his sacred obligations ! I am sure that the great majority of 
our students are not so low in moral character and so seared 
in conscience. So that the Society has done immense good. 
It may be used in future to do much more and to save many 
from ruin. For it is not to be concealed that the tendency of 


opinion and of practice at this day is to look disparagingly 
upon temperance pledges, and to return to the drinking usages 
of the last generation. But certain I am that more than half 
of the cases of discipline in College have resulted from the use 
of intoxicating drinks. With such facts before them, it would 
be passing strange if the officers of Amherst College should 
not avail themselves of every opportunity to guard their pupils 
against such indulgences, and they cannot but see that though 
pledged abstinence be not an infallible security, it does help a 
man amazingly in time of temptation. This Society has 
already become almost venerable for years, and it has the 
prestige of showing upon its roll the names of three-quarters 
of the students for the last thirty years. "Where can so good 
a basis be found for future efforts in the temperance cause ? 
I have not done what I could have wished with such a 
society ; but I have succeeded, by the help of my colleagues, 
in keeping the temperance flag flying for more than thirty 
years. Let those who come after me see to it that it be not 
torn down and trampled in the dust. 




The religious history of Amherst College is more important 
and interesting than every thing else pertaining to it. It is, 
moreover, the bright side of the institution. Man has often 
been hostile to us, but God has always been our friend. Dark 
as our external prospects have often been, our religious condi 
tion has always been more or less encouraging. I do not 
mean that we have not often experienced sad religious declen 
sions, but that in the lowest condition, religion has had a 
powerful hold in the community, and formed indeed, the grand 
controlling influence. So far as a high state of the religious 
affections is concerned, we have often had occasion to cry out 
our leanness, our leanness, and to deplore our want of fidelity 
to Christ and the souls of men. But it was not apostacy, it 
was not the abandonment of the great principles of the 
Gospel. Never has there been a time when there was not 
an overwhelming majority rooted and grounded in these prin 
ciples, and resting upon them for their own salvation and the 
salvation of the world. It was not a mere general acknowl 
edgment of the truth of Christianity, but a distinct avowal 
of its characteristic doctrines, called generally, the doctrines 
of the Reformation, or evangelical doctrines. Hence there 
has ever been an unshaken trust in God in the darkest hour. 
And God has honored such trust by standing by us in every 
exigency, and though not always delivering us from external 
difficulties, He has ever been ready to bless us spiritually, 
and to make even our sorest trials the means of rich religious 
blessings. Nay, the deeper the darkness that hung over our 
outward prosperity, the more sure were we to realize God s 


presence in our souls. Nor has returning prosperity, thus 
far, caused our heavenly Father to withdraw from us, though 
it is a state far more dangerous to our spiritual condition than 
the deepest adversity, and calling for special vigilance. But, 
upon the whole, the religious condition of the College has not 
been subject to those fluctuations which have attended our 
financial condition and estimation by the public. It has been 
rather a continued state of religious prosperity, though not a 
state of continued revival. Let us go into some details. 

The more unreservedly men consecrate themselves or their 
labors and property to God s service, the more certain may 
they be of the Divine blessing. Never was this consecration 
more entire than in founding Amherst College. The first 
corner-stone that was laid is all covered over with inscriptions, 
distinctly avowing the grand object for which it was laid, and 
solemnly consecrating it to God. I refer to " A Constitution 
and System of By-Laws for raising and managing a Permanent 
Charitable Fund, as the basis of an Institution in Amherst, in 
the County of Hampshire, for the classical education of indi 
gent young men of piety and talents for the Christian Ministry." 
To show the object and spirit of the founders it is only neces 
sary to quote the Preamble and first Article of this Constitution, 
and perhaps one or tw r o other sentences. 

" Taking into consideration the deplorable condition of a large por 
tion of our race who are enveloped in the most profound ignorance, 
cruel superstition, and gross idolatry ; and many of them in a savage 
state without a written language : together with vast multitudes in 
Christian countries of which our own affords a lamentable specimen, 
who are dispersed over extensive territories, as sheep without a 
shepherd : 

"Impressed with the most fervent commiseration for our destitute 
brethren, and urged by the command of our divine Saviour to preach 
the gospel to every creature ; we have resolved to consecrate to the 
Author of all good, for the honor of his name, and the benefit of 
our race, a portion of the treasure or inheritance which He has been 


pleased to intrust to our stewardship, in the firm belief that it is 
more blessed to give than to receive. 

" Under the conviction that the education of pious young men of 
the first talents in community, is the most sure method of relieving 
our brethren, by civilizing and evangelizing the world ; and that a 
Classical Institution judiciously located, and richly endowed with a 
large and increasing charitable fund, in co-operation with theological 
seminaries and education societies, will be the most eligible way of 
effecting it : 

" Therefore, We, the undersigned, have solemnl} T , deliberately, and 
prayerfully made, constituted and ratified, and by these presents, 
and for the foregoing weighty considerations, do make, constitute, 
and ratify, the following Constitution and System of By-Laws, 
together with the preceding preamble, as the basis of such a fund, 
and for the raising and managing the same. 

"ART. 1. In contemplating the felicitous state of society, which is 
predicted in the scriptures of truth, and the rapid approach of such 
a state, which the auspices of the present day clearly indicate ; and 
desiring to add our feeble efforts to the various exertions of the 
Christian community, for effecting so glorious an event ; we have 
associated together for the express purpose of founding an Institu 
tion upon the genuine principles of charity and benevolence, for the 
instruction of youth in all the branches of literature and science 
usually taught in colleges ; to be located in the town of Amherst, 
in the County of Hampshire, and incorporated with the Academy 
in that place, and with Williams College also, should it continue to 
be thought expedient to remove that seminary to said County of 
Hampshire, and to locate it in the town of Amherst, and to be 
called ." 

" The principal of the fund shall be sacred and intangible, not sub 
ject to be diminished by any exigency, the act of God excepted, but 
shall be perpetually augmenting, by donations, subscriptions, grants, 
legacies and bequests, and by the addition of one-sixth part of the 
interest and other avails, as aforesaid." 

"ART. 13. It being the design of the founders of this establish 
ment, that its benefits should be handed down inviolate to all suc 
ceeding generations, and considering the inadequacy of human 
forethought to provide for every exigence that may occur in the 
course of long experience, we the undersigned agree, that this Con 
stitution and System of By-Laws, may be altered or amended, by the 
board of Trustees of said institution, and the board of Overseers 
of said fund, so however, as not to deviate from the original object 


of civilizing and evangelizing the world, by the classical education 
of indigent young men of piety and talents ; but, it shall not be 
altered or amended, except from the most weighty considerations." 

Now we who remember the men who founded Amherst 
College, know very well that in using such language as this 
they were perfectly honest and hearty. We should expect, 
therefore, that the God who honors them that honor Him 
would smile upon their enterprise. After the lapse of more 
than forty years, we are in a position to judge of the results. 
Let us look at some of the most important. 


Up to the present time, (July, 1863,) the College has 
enjoyed marked seasons of special religious interest in the 
following years, viz.: 1823, 1827, 1828, 1831, 1835, 1839, 
1842, 1846, 1850, 1853, 1855, 1857, 1858, and 1862. 
Besides these fourteen prominent revivals, many other seasons 
of special interest have existed in the institution, which, 
though not dignified by the name of revivals, have yet been 
of unspeakable importance in raising the standard of practi 
cal piety, and in fitting the successive classes to go forth into 
the world with a more glowing and fresher love to God and 
man than otherwise they would have felt ; and, moreover, in 
all such cases, a few are hopefully converted. I have placed 
the interest in 1860 in this class, though it has been generally 
reckoned as one of the marked revivals. In the seasons of 
revival the average number of converts has been from twenty 
to thirty. In Professor Tyler s Premium Essay on Prayer 
for Colleges, he estimates that during the first thirty years of 
the existence of the College, from two hundred and fifty to three 
hundred were converted, and the twelve succeeding years 
have doubtless added sixty or seventy more. We think it 
not extravagant to say that probably as many as three hun 
dred and fifty have begun their religious life here. Not a 
few of these have been men very prominent and influential. 


Of the two hundred and fifty named by Professor Tyler, lie 
says that more than one hundred have been ministers of the 
Gospel, fifteen missionaries, and twenty-eight officers of col 
leges and "theological seminaries. Of individuals may be 
named such men as Professor Bela B. Edwards, Professor 
William A. Peabody, Henry Lyman, Story Hebard, Timothy 
Dwight, Amos Bullard, W. Bradford Homer, Alexander W. 
McClure, Ebenezer Burgess, Charles Hartwell, Daniel W. 
Poor, Richard S. Storrs, Henry Ward Beecher, Edward D. 
Neill, Henry M. Storrs, Daniel Bliss, Zephaniah Humphrey, 
Professor Joseph Haven, Professor Francis Andrew March, 
Professors Edward P. and John Humphrey, Jonathan C. 
Perkins, Nathan Belcher, Henry Lobdell, Henry Adams. 

Up to the present time, (1863,) we are able to say that no 
class has passed through College without also passing through 
a marked revival. Indeed, fourteen revivals in forty years, 
make one every three years. 

Professor Tyler has reasoned ably to show not only that 
revivals are in harmony with the movements of nature and 
Providence in other things, but also that our standard of 
effort and limitation of faith in being satisfied with one revival 
for each class, is low and narrow. I quote a few paragraphs. 

" llevivals of religion are not yet so frequent, or so pure or power 
ful, even in college, as it is greatly to be desired they should be. 
Why should not a revival occur every year, that every class, as it 
enters, may also enter the school of Christ ; and as it advances from 
year to year in the college course, may receive a fresh anointing of 
the Holy Spirit, and so all their studies be pursued in his illuminat 
ing presence, and holiness to the Lord be written on every hall, on 
the door of every room, and at the entrance to every heart ? Then 
would they indeed know all things which it chiefly concerns them to 
know, having received an unction from the Holy One. 

" Every thing else in college is periodical. This is one of the most 
striking characteristics of college life. Why, then, should not special 
attention to the subject of personal religion be periodical ? Classes 
enter and leave every year. Why should they not be converted 
every year ? Why should this not be distinctly contemplated, ex- 


pressly aimed at, and specially provided for, like all the other regular 
exercises and arrangements of the institution ? This would not be 
inconsistent with the design of such institutions, or conflict with the 
studies or literary attainments of the student. On the contrary, it 
would harmonize with that design ; nay, more, it is due to that 
design : for colleges in their original plan and intention were meant 
to be religious institutions. And it would greatly further the ad 
vancement of students in learning; for the principles and spirit of 
true religion are the surest guide, the strongest stimulus to the right 
use of time, to the best improvement of talents and opportunities, 
and to the most successful prosecution of all useful knowledge ; 
insomuch, that not only theologians and reformers, but philosophers 
and scholars have indorsed the maxim : Bene orasse est bene 
studuisse ; to have prayed well, is to have studied well." 

Of the above named revivals, the first, in 1823, was during 
tlie Presidency of Dr. Moore ; the next six during the twenty- 
two years Presidency of Dr. Humphrey ; the next three 
during the ten years when I held that office, and the remaining 
four since Dr. Stearns assumed the office, in 1854. 

In all these revivals except the first, it has been my privilege 
to be present, and to participate in the labors connected with 
their progress. Even at the close of the first one I preached 
a sermon by request of Dr. Moore, which was published under 
41 title of " Retrospection." In all the others I took my turn 
in preaching ; and of four I had the responsible oversight, 
three during my Presidency, and one when I was Dr. Humph 
rey s locum tenens during his absence in Europe. Gladly 
would I detail many of the interesting scenes which I witnessed 
during these seasons when a struggle was going on between 
grace and nature in the hearts of many who have since become 
eminent as ministers and missionaries. How animating it was 
when grace triumphed! How sad when nature prevailed, and 
the sinner reverted to his former state of indifference ! If I 
should refer in another place to individual histories, I may 
give some facts of this sort, but I pass them over now. 

I have alluded to the responsibility of having charge of a 
revival, and it is indeed a solemn and weighty trust, especially 


in a college revival. For such a work usually moves forward 
much more rapidly than in other communities. In general 
the whole matter is decided in the course of a few weeks, and 
if one does not seize the favorable moment, or tries to hold 
back the current of feeling, he will find his subsequent efforts 
unavailing. I think that often college officers fail here through 
fear of extravagance and fanaticism. But young men are 
ardent and impulsive, yet I have found the danger of excess 
among those who have been religiously educated to be small, 
and I must say that revivals are more apt to be prevented or 
diminished in power by the want of preparation in officers than 
students. Not unfrequently by the time the former have 
become fully awake, the latter have exhausted their sensibili 
ties and that overpowering zeal which carries every thing 
before it, and they cannot again be brought into sympathy 
with the work. On the other hand, I think I have seen more 
cases where there has been such a multiplication of means and 
expenditure of feeling before the revival was fairly estab 
lished, that the interest soon flagged and the work was 
ephemeral. Inexperienced young Christians are very apt in 
such cases to run before the Spirit, and fail by attempting to 
do the work without his aid and the requisite preparation ;. 
If there be not sufficient feeling in a church to sustain an 
increase of meetings, they do more hurt than good. It is 
exceedingly important, therefore, for the pastor to have 
enough of experience in revivals and of interest in saving 
souls, to be able to hold the helm with a steady hand and to 
keep enough, but not too much canvas flying. 

I am led by these remarks to say a few words about the 
means that have been used to bring about and carry forward 
these revivals. For though impossible without the sovereign 
grace of God, like every thing else in this world not miraculous, 
they are always connected with means as their antecedents, 
and if no means are used, we have no reason to expect reviv 
als. The grand, all-essential means is the presentation of 
evangelical truth. But its success in turning men s special 


attention to personal religion depends on a variety of circum 
stances. The most important of these is the state of heart in him 
who presents the truth. And in all cases which I have traced 
out, I have found a silent preparation in the hearts of Christians 
to have preceded the revival. They have been deeply hum 
bled by a sense of their selfishness, worldliness and want of 
interest in the cause of religion, and often the struggle in their 
bosoms has been long and painful, before they were brought 
into a state in which they could labor effectively to bring 
about a revival. If only a very few in a church are thor 
oughly permeated by such feelings and feel so straitened in 
their souls that they cannot but make manifest their emotions, 
and must strive to rouse their brethren to duty and impenitent 
men to repentance, we may hope for a revival, even though a 
large majority take no interest in the work. 

If, now, the pastor of a church is in such a state as he ought 
to be, he will be watching for favorable times, or endeavor to 
make them, for producing such a state of feeling as we have 
described. One of the means of doing this is by faithful 
preaching on the Sabbath and at other times. But if he stop 
here, he will probably fail, especially in college, where Christ 
is often crucified, not only between the two thieves, Classics 
and Mathematics, but a third one is always ready to drive 
the nails, viz., Rhetorical Criticism. 

Private conversation with Christians is another admirable 
means to quicken the religious sensibilities. Sometimes the 
pastor or professor will find that the Spirit has gone before 
him, and that some among the students are ahead of their 
teachers, in which case he will, if a wise Christian man, 
become the learner and quicken his pace in the divine life. 
All my experience goes to convince me that such private 
conversation is one of the most powerful of all the means of 
grace in a college, and yet I fear that many officers so 
hedge themselves about with false notions of dignity, that 
they sadly neglect this duty. But certainly the pastor of a 
college church should be free from all such red tape-ism. 


To multiply religious meetings, publicly announced and 
understood to be designed to bring on a revival before any 
special interest appears, even on the part of Christians, is 
a dangerous experiment. But private and more informal 
prayer-meetings, of which no public announcements are made, 
usually have a good effect ; for they indicate more than usual 
religious feeling. I have known these often apparently the 
means of a revival. 

From the beginning, Thursday evening has been devoted 
to a religious lecture, either written or extemporaneous, by 
one of the clerical members of the Faculty, the attendance 
of the students and families of the officers being voluntary. 
This meeting has been a means of great good, and the amount 
of attendance upon it has been a tolerably good index of the 
state of religious feeling in the College. I had always felt it 
to be desirable, however, that a meeting where somewhat 
more familiar relations could be established between the pastor 
and his flock would be quite desirable, and accordingly, when 
I assumed the Presidency, I privately informed one or two 
members of the senior class that every Monday evening, at a 
certain hour, my study would be open to any members of 
College who might like to spend a half hour (to which time 
I should rigidly limit the meeting,) in prayer and religious 
conference. Not a word was ever said in public about this 
meeting, yet it never lacked attendants. I told them I should 
generally call on them for prayers, and that I would then 
make familiar remarks upon some practical question, proposed 
at the preceding meeting, and would be glad, also, to hear 
their remarks. I sat at my study table, and the room was 
usually so closely packed that we could not even kneel in 
prayer. It seemed like a great family at morning or evening 
prayers, conversing upon experimental religion, and I do not 
doubt that the home feeling this produced had much to do 
with the interest which the meeting seemed to excite. At the 
season of the year when the annual fast for colleges occurs, I 
directed my questions to subjects adapted to prepare Chris- 


tians for a special work of grace ; such, for instance, as the 
following : 

What is tiie proper mode of conducting the work of self- 
examination ? 

By what marks may we know whether we have the true 
spirit of prayer ? 

How shall we know whether we stand in the way of spir 
itual blessings descending upon the community in which we 
live ? 

How shall we best acquire and preserve a quick sensibility 
of conscience ? 

What special means are to be employed, and how far, by 
the Christian, in awakening a deeper interest in religion 
among those around him ? 

What are the elements of a true revival spirit in the hearts 
of Christians ? 

By a judicious selection and arrangement of such questions, 
it is obvious that Christians might soon be pressed into an 
uncomfortable corner, if they were in an alienated state, and 
that they would not rest till they had got into a better state, 
and thus these meetings sometimes seemed the means of 
revivals. In such a case the numbers increased so much as 
to drive us out of my study, and my family used every week 
to fill one of the large parlors of the President s house with 
seats. But when the meetings were so manifestly blessed of 
God, I did not dare to transfer the meeting to one of the 
public rooms in college, lest its peculiar attractions should be 
destroyed. I rejoice that I did not : for in subsequent years, 
by letters from graduates, I found that probably no other 
religious effort which I ever made was so blessed of God as 
this. Sometimes thrilling incidents occurred in the meetings, 
of which I may perhaps give one or two examples farther on. 
And sometimes the prayers made by my young brethren had 
an unction, an eloquence and a power, which I have never 
heard elsewhere, and whose impression remains upon my 
memory to this day. 


The Annual Concert of Prayer for Colleges, on the last 
Thursday in February, has ever been a powerful instrumen 
tality in the work of revivals among us. It was begun in 
1823, though a Sabbath morning concert of prayer had been 
observed earlier. The annual concert has been observed at 
Amherst ever since its origination. I have been present at 
all of them since 1825, except two, I think detained once 
by sickness, and once by absence from the town and I 
can testify that it has ever been one of the most powerful 
means of grace that I have ever witnessed. The regular 
preaching in the afternoon is not generally any more effective 
than a good sermon on the Sabbath : but the more private 
prayer-meetings, especially that in the forenoon in the Side 
Chapel, where attendance is voluntary and not required, as in 
the afternoon, has always shown deep religious feeling, and 
words that melt and .burn have often issued from hearts 
oppressed with responsibility, and agonizing to see the work 
of the Lord revived. The consequence has always been a 
quickened state of religious feeling among Christians, and 
sometimes a revival could be distinctly traced to the exercises 
of that day. Its influence and importance are well set forth 
by Prof. Tyler, in his Prayer for Colleges. 

The influence of this Concert upon revivals shows us that 
in God s plans the proper preparation of the hearts of Chris 
tians in college may not be all the requisites for securing the 
blessing. He may also require a proper state of feeling and 
action in the community that contains and sustains the college. 
How often have I seen the College church apparently in a 
humble waiting and anxious state, yet pleading and waiting in 
vain for a revival. Something out of sight may have been 
wrong in all these cases. But may there not have been some 
thing wrong also in the churches of the land whose duty it is 
to pray and labor for the colleges? Especially may not some 
thing be wrong often in the hearts of Christian parents and 
friends who have unconverted sons in college ? In the revival 
of 1846, so suspicious was I that some foreign influence was 


exerted even more powerful than that in College, that I tried 
to ascertain how much of it proceeded from the prayers and 
efforts of parents. I reproduce the results here as contained 
in my account of that revival as published in several news 
papers, according to a general practice. 

" Towards the close of this work, my attention was accidentally 
directed to the connection between the prayers and efforts of Christian 
parents, or other pious friends, and the conversion of their sons and 
relatives ; and I was led to direct the following inquiries to several of 
the parents and friends of those hopefully converted. 

" < Have you, or your wife, had any special anxiety of late, and 
before you heard of the revival in College, as to the conversion of 
your son ? and if so, were you led to any unusual earnestness in prayer 
in his behalf ? or, have you been thus stirred up since you heard of 
the revival, but before you knew that he was awakened ? 

" These questions do indeed relate to points of great delicacy; and 
they were answered with much reluctance. But the answers seem to 
me so fraught with interest and encouragement to parents to prayer 
and faithful exhortation, that I cannot believe their authors will blame 
me if, suppressing names, I present extracts in this communication, 
although they had no idea that any such use would be made of their 

" When entered College, says a father, we endeavored to 

commend him anew to God. On hearing of the revival in College, 
our anxiety for him was awakened anew. The thought that he should 
be passed by was overwhelming. We conversed with, and tried to 
pray with, and for him ; but dare not cherish the belief that our poor 
services have been the means of his conversion ; rather would we be 
deeply humbled for our want of fidelity and unbelief. We attribute 
it solely to the free, rich and sovereign grace of God. 

"A clergyman, answering my inquiries in behalf of a widowed 
mother, says, among other things : She has authorized me to say, that 
she was unusually anxious as to the conversion of her son, and was 
led to more than ordinary earnestness in prayer in his behalf, before 
she heard of the revival in College. This, she says, was particularly 
the case on the day of the concert of prayer for colleges. We 
observed it here ; and what was said made a deep impression on Mrs. 

s mind ; and she fervently prayed that there might be a revival 

in College, and her son become a subject of renewing grace. At that 
meeting we all thought of him particularly, and earnestly prayed for 


his conversion. This mother informs me, that, when the family lived 

in , she and several mothers in the church were accustomed, on 

the day of the College Concert, to hold a meeting by themselves to 
pray particularly for the conversion of their sons. If, then, it would 
perhaps be too much to say, that his conversion < has taken place as a 
special answer to the special prayers of a mother, it may be safely 
inferred, that the prayers of his mother and of Christian friends here 
have been answered. 

" The father of another hopeful convert writes : < In answer to your 
inquiries, I would say, that as for myself I had not felt any thing 
more than my usual desire for his conversion until I heard by Mr. 

that there was more than usual attention to religion at College. 

I then prayed with more faith. My wife thinks that she had felt rather 
more than usual solicitude for a longer time. However that may be, 
on hearing of the seriousness, she was stirred up, and conversed with 
some of her female friends, members of the maternal association, 
requesting them to intercede at the throne of Grace in his behalf; and 
I trust that some of the many prayers which have been offered for him 
have found acceptance with God. 

"Another father, a minister of the Gospel, thus replies: <I have 
had strong hopes that our son would become a Christian, and we have 
felt this for years ; but since the Fast (for Colleges) this feeling has 
increased. And I find by conversing with others, who are my par 
ishioners, that they have had similar feelings. We did not hear of 
the revival in College till the letter arrived which contained an account 
of the change in his feelings. O that God would prepare our son to 
be a minister of the Gospel ! Most cheerfully would I say, Go, 
wherever God shall direct. 

" Says the mother of another individual : After I heard of the 
revival in College, I felt particularly anxious and prayerful that he 
might be one of those inquiring the way to be saved. I wrote to him 
requesting to know if he was, and if so, beseeching him not to cease 
wrestling with God day and night, until he had obtained the pardon 
of his sins. If God has heard and answered my feeble prayers with 
respect to him, I pray that I may be more earnest and faithful in 
future for the conversion of those of my dear family who are out of 
the ark of safety. 

"It is an interesting fact, that the letter referred to above was 
received by the son of this mother just at the time when, after a con 
siderable period of anxiety, he had about concluded to give up the 
subject in despair. The effect was to deepen his anxiety, and soon 


after he found relief. Will any Christian regard all this as mere 
accident, and that the providence of God had nothing to do with it ? 

" The father of another hopeful convert says : When we came to 

, last May, there was some special attention to religion in the 

village, and some things encouraged us to hope that our son might 
become a subject of it. But as he did not, we, perhaps, felt more than 
usual anxiety for him. Late in the autumn we perceived that he read 
his Bible more than usual, and was more attentive to religious means. 
As might be expected under such circumstances, we, I trust, felt an 

increased anxiety for him. I think that Mrs. has for a long 

time been deeply and prayerfully anxious for him. But in stating 
this fact, we feel that we have cause to be humbled in the dust, and so 
far as instrumentality is concerned, we have to look away from our 

" A brother-in-law of another individual makes the following state 
ment : My wife, and a pious sister of hers, have for some months 
past observed one day each week to pray for their brother and the 

other impenitent members of the family. Our sister saw 

about the time he returned to College, and conversed with him about 
his soul. She has felt much for him of late. My wife cannot say that 
she had been more deeply anxious for him than usual, until she heard 
of the unusual religious interest in College. As to myself, as the 
season of special prayer for the colleges returned, I thought and felt 
more on the subject, and my thoughts were specially turned towards 

Amherst. On the Fast day for colleges, I wrote to and his 

room-mate, and have had greater desires for their conversion since. 
This was before I heard of their being interested, or of any special 
interest in College. I will send on your letter to our parents. I can 

assure you that has not been forgotten there. He has from his 

birth been a child of many prayers, and was no less given to the Lord 
than was Samuel of old. 

" Another father writes as follows : As parents who have entered 
into solemn covenant with our heavenly Father, I trust we have at no 
time since we dedicated our son to God in baptism, been wholly indif 
ferent to his spiritual and eternal welfare. But it is still true that our 
solicitude and prayers respecting him have not always been character 
ized by that degree of feeling and interest which pious parents are ever 
bound to cherish towards their offspring. Yet it is due to Divine 
Grace to state, that some time previous to our knowledge of any 
seriousness in the College, or on the mind of our son, our anxiety had 
been greatly increased respecting him. 


11 When my companion has endeavored to plead for him at the 
Throne of Grace, before she was aware that his mind had been turned 
to the subject of religion, she has been forbidden utterance in her 
prayers, and could only weep for him. 

" A widowed mother makes the following statement : A week or 
two before the College Fast, my son dropped a word which led me to 
fear that he was somewhat inclined to favor the doctrine that man is 
not totally depraved. This was a trouble to me,, and led me, I think, 
to some degree of fervor in prayer, that the Holy Spirit would con 
vince him that he was altogether alienated from God. Perhaps I may 
say that from that time my anxiety for him increased, until at length 
his salvation was almost the only subject of my thoughts and prayers, 
by day and by night. I seemed to feel as if his conversion depended 
on my faith and fervor in prayer. I have had a deep sense of my own 
unfaithfulness; and often have said, " Lord I am not worthy that thou 
should come under my roof : but yet I cannot let thee go except thou 
bless me." Finally, it seemed to me that I had never consecrated 
my son entirely to God, and had never been willing He should dispose 
of him as He saw fit to promote His glory, and therefore I must not 
expect he would be brought into the fold. This conclusion increased 
my anguish, until at length I think I was enabled to say, here, Lord, 
take my son my only son take all my children, and send them to 
the remotest corner of the earth ; only glorify thy name in their salva 
tion and receive them to thyself at last. 

Any one who saw, as I did, the overpowering emotions awakened 
in that mother s heart by the intelligence that light and peace had 
begun to dawn upon the mind of her son, would not doubt that the 
above language was a true index of her heart. 

"The following letter from a widowed mother brings before us an 
interesting chapter in the dying exercises of an eminently devoted 
Christian father, well known and deeply lamented by the churches. 

" For some weeks before Mr. s death, his desires for s 

conversion were unusually strong, and his prayers were exceedingly 
importunate in his behalf. It seemed as if he could not be denied. I 
recollect that when I told my cook, who is a godly woman, that we 
hoped had experienced religion, she replied, with tears, "I ex 
pected he would be converted ; for I never heard such prayers as his 
father offered for him just before he died." Indeed, I think he had 
faith to believe that he would become a Christian ; for, when speaking 
of our library, he remarked, " you had better keep the theological and 

religious books for . I hope he will be a minister and will 

want them." After the death of my husband, I think my r- * -^s 


for were deep and fervent, particularly at the funeral, when I 

leaned upon his arm, and with a bursting heart cried unto God, " O 
that this child might live before thee ! " and during the winter I had 
many deep exercises on his account. During his vacation, I said to 
him, " what do you expect to do when you come out of College ? " and 
he replied, " I prefer above all things to be a minister ; but you know I 
cannot be unless I am a Christian." From that time I felt that I must 
cry mightily unto God in his behalf, and engaged several Christian 
friends to unite with me in prayer for him. And I think I was 
enabled to make a more entire consecration of him to God than I ever 
did before ; and when the day of prayer (for the colleges) came, 
although I attended no meeting, yet I appropriated the day as much 
to prayer as possible. Of course Amherst and my fatherless boy were 
much on my mind. So that when for several weeks I heard nothing 
from him, which was very unusual, I remarked to my sister that I was 
persuaded there was something on his mind. She replied that she had 
the same feeling, although neither of us had heard that there was any 
unusual feeling on the subject of religion in College. I think much 
prayer was offered for him from the time of his father s death, for he 
had many friends. 

" This statement suggests many inquiries of deep interest ; but there 
is one which I cannot pass unnoticed. What suggested to that mother 
and her sister the idea, or rather the confident belief, that a revival of 
religion existed in the College, before they had received any intimation 
of it through the ordinary channels of information ? It was accidental, 
says one. It grew out of the fact, says another, that their minds were 
upon this subject. But how came their minds to be upon it ? Did 
not the same Infinite Spirit, who operated upon the minds of the sons, 
excite the desires and expectations of Christian parents for their con 
version ? Mysterious and even absurd though such a doctrine may 
seem to many, yet does it not accord with the familiar experience of 
devoted Christians ? It is a law of God s moral kingdom that he must 
be inquired of before he grants any great blessing ; and hence he stirs 
up those who need it to pray for it beforehand. 

" The following extract is a part of the reply of the same widowed 
mother to the letter of her son, communicating the glad news of a 
change in his religious feelings. 

" Your letter reached me yesterday ; and I need not attempt to tell 
you the feelings it awakened in my desolate heart, so long a stranger 
to joy. 

" To learn from your own pen that you arc happy in a forgiving 
Redeemer, and in trying to do good to others, is enough to rejoice the 


heart and wake up the gratitude of any Christian mother. But when 
that mother is made to sit solitary, and her older sons are far removed 
from her, and she looks to one as the support of her declining years, 
as her protector and guide, " When the strong men shall bow them 
selves, and they that look out of the windows shall be darkened," what 
must her joy be when that one has passed from death unto life, and a 
new song is put into his mouth ? When that one, endeared by all the 
ties and sympathies of natural love, has become doubly dear by the 
ties of Christian affection and sympathy, and the hopes of eternal life ! 

" I cannot but think it will be interesting, since I have the opportu 
nity, to present one or two examples of the importunate earnestness 
and fidelity with which the parents and friends of the converts in this 
revival urged the subject of religion upon them, before they knew of 
the existence of such a work. The first extract is addressed to a 
brother-in-law and his room-mate. 

" This is the day set apart to pray for colleges, and we cannot but 
remember you. We hope that, while others are praying for you, you 
will not forget to pray for yourselves. I am anxious that you and 
your room-mate should, this term, come out on the Lord s side. You 
have already lived long enough for yourselves. God has a claim upon 
your hearts ; and you ought not to disregard that claim for a single 
day. Both of you have had many prayers offered for you. But this 
will avail you nothing unless you pray for yourselves. It will only 
make your case worse. It will be an awful thing, after having been 
dedicated to God by pious parents, after having had so many warnings, 
and so much religious instruction, and been the subject of so many 
prayers, to be finally lost. 

"The following is from a devoted mother: You, my dear son, 
are never forgotten when we bow before our heavenly Father in 
prayer ; and can it be that you alone are careless about that precious 
soul, for which so many are praying daily, and I might almost say 
hourly, with strong crying and tears ? O, my son, my son ! I entreat 
you, think of the love and care you are slighting. You have often 
read that the great Jehovah has said, " My spirit shall not always strive 
with man," and you know that now is the time, and that your life is at 
best a vapor that passeth away. O, then, awake thou that sleepest, 
and think, O think on these things while you are in health, and have 
your reason, and can reflect with calmness on the state of your soul. 
What folly, my child, to defer in this thing ? You had better let every 
thing else go your studies, your school, and every thing besides, 
rather than be found trifling with the Holy Spirit, and saying, when 
I have a convenient season I will call for thee. " But I am young yet, 


and am looking forward to a long life," you may be tempted to say. 
O, you feel this to be folly and presumption, I know. You cannot 
forget that four of our number have been taken much younger than 
you, and laid in their graves, one after another ; and how often we 
see those in the bloom of youth cut down, and called to their last 
account, and that too all unprepared, as you are now. I fear you are 
thinking that God is gracious, and you have many friends praying for 
you, and you shall not be called away unprepared ; but, my son, these 
prayers will never save you, unless you fall in with, and cherish the 
influences of the Spirit, who would teach you and lead you into all 
truth. But, O, the fearful condemnation of one who was taught in 
his earliest childhood the truths of the Bible, and in a measure the 
worth of the soul. And that is not all ; the Spirit has often disturbed 
your peace, and you have often resolved that you would attend to 
these things ; and now, if you are getting more and more careless, 
what reason have you to tremble and resolve in earnest that you will 
begin immediately to seek salvation. Begin now, then, my child ; I 
charge you to begin now ; do not lay down this sheet until you raise 
your heart to God, and beg him to forgive your sins, and help you to 
go forward immediately in this great business. 

"Mark, now, the change in that mother s language, when she had 
heard of the change in her son s feelings. 

" My dear, dear son, I never before found the task so difficult as 
to begin to express my feelings to you. I find no words in our lan 
guage to express a poor, unworthy mother s feelings on such an occa 
sion as this. It seems to me that I may well shout Grace ! Grace ! 

Free Grace and Redeeming Love ! O , is it so ? Do you love 

the Lord Jesus, that precious Saviour, who suffered and died to save 
a lost world ? That Saviour who has been to you as a root out of 
dry ground. If you have, indeed, at length seen him to be the chiefcst 
among ten thousand, and one altogether lovely, well may your mother 
join in the transports of those who surround the Throne of God and 
the Lamb, and ascribe glory to God in the highest. Sure I am that I 
do desire to call on my soul and all that is within me to bless His holy 
name. But I cannot praise him as I ought. O, I want to lie in the 
dust and be ashamed of my wicked fears and unbelief in years past. 
I have feared that, for my unfaithfulness, my unconverted children 
might all be lost forever ; but I feel now that God has not laid judg 
ment to the line and righteousness to the plummet ; but has graciously 
heard and answered the prayers of poor, sinful, hell- deserving crea 
tures, and has loved to glorify his Son by answering the many prayers 


that have been offered in His name, although they came from the lips 
of those who have so wickedly offended Him. 

" What eloquence there is in a Christian mother s heart ! and could 
more of her earnestness and fidelity be infused into the discourses of 
those of us who profess to preach the Gospel, what unction and 
power, would be imparted to them." 

To the examples given above of a connection between the 
prayers and exhortations of parents and their sons, I am con 
strained to add another that was forced upon my attention. 
During one of our revivals the son of a missionary residing at 
a distance of 10,000 miles was awakened, and lingering for 
weeks in a state of indecision, I began greatly to fear was 
losing his impressions. At that critical moment he received 
a very faithful letter from his father, who, knowing the young 
man s character and temperament, could aim his arrows at 
vulnerable points. And though it was death to rebellious 
nature, it was life from the dead to the new creature. All 
this, some will say, was accidental. But that is a term I do 
not admit into my vocabulary when I am contemplating the 

plans of an Infinite God. Rev. Dr. (for this youth 

is now a Doctor of Divinity) may not be aware that, next to 
God, he is indebted for his conversion to his venerable 
father ; but when he shall meet him on Mount Zion I think 
he will see in the transparencies of heaven the chain of influ 
ence that reached half round the globe and was hooked into 
his nose just at the right moment. 

The grand instrumentality on which we have always 
depended to originate and carry forward revivals, has been the 
earnest and faithful presentation of the peculiar doctrines of 
the Gospel in the pulpit, in the prayer-meeting, and to the 
individual conscience. We have always found this mighty 
through God to the pulling down of strongholds. Believing 
fully ourselves in the entire natural alienation of man from 
God, and in the necessity of a renovation of his nature by the 
special agency of the Holy Spirit, we have urged these truths 
as earnestly as we could upon all. Some would call this 


sectarianism ; but we have gloried in such sectarianism ; 
for to maintain it Amhcrst College was founded, and if 
ever the time comes when these doctrines shall cease to 
be rung out boldly from the College pulpit, " Ichabod " may 
well be inscribed upon it. Oh ! with what power have I heard 
these truths proclaimed there by such men as Humphrey, and 
Fiske, and Tyler, and how distinctly couljl the ticking of the 
clock be heard all over the chapel while they reasoned of 
temperance and righteousness and judgment to come. It is 
probably possible to get up some kind of excitement and call 
it a revival where these truths are ignored, but those who 
founded and those who sustain Amherst College do not believe 
that any but spurious conversions can be the result. 

It has been sometimes a difficult question to decide in time 
of revival, first, how many meetings should be held, and 
secondly, how many of them should be regular preaching 
meetings and how many devoted to prayers and brief, off hand 
exhortations. If the meetings are so numerous that the feel 
ing cannot sustain them, and Christians attend more from a 
sense of duty than from strong desire, they deaden rather than 
advance the revival. It is always better that there should be 
an appetite for more meetings rather than a secret desire 
among Christians that there should be less. Ardent young 
men also often prefer meetings where glowing exhortations 
and impassioned prayers greatly stir up the feelings. But I 
think I have several times seen the religious sensibilities in 
that way early exhausted beyond resuscitation, and also hopes 
ncquired in such circumstances that did not wear well. Plain, 
systematic preaching, although less popular, I am inclined 
generally to prefer, in order to counteract these evils. The 
solid truths of the Bible brought in this way to bear upon the 
conscience, operate as a regulator to keep the machinery steady 
and to prolong the revival. 

Inquiry meetings we have ever found eminently useful. 
And they Avere more useful, I think, when held in a private 
room rather than a large lecture room of the College. Hence 


I used, as long as the numbers did not forbid, to hold them in 
a student s room or my own study. I think such meetings are 
far better in their influence than to call upon the anxious in 
their own rooms or to invite them to the pastor s study, one by 
one. For one of the chief dangers of conversing with inquirers 
is that we shall say too much. The great object of conversing 
with them is to lead them at once to submit to God, and until 
this takes place it is dangerous to lighten the burden that is 
upon their spirits, as we shall be apt to do if we converse long 
with them, and especially if our remarks produce weeping. 

Soon after I began to preach I had an instructive lesson on 
this subject. I spent a Sabbath at the house of Rev. Dr. 
Porter at Farmington, in Connecticut, when one of the most 
powerful revivals ever known in this country had nearly reached 
its culmination. There I met with Dr. Asahel Nettleton, the 
man who of all I have ever known had the most wisdom and 
skill in conducting revivals. He had preached Sabbath even 
ing and made an extraordinary impression, and while sitting 
with him the next morning in Dr. Porter s parlor, a gentleman 
in middle life, one of the Doctor s parishioners, came in, bear 
ing in his countenance the marks of extreme anxiety. Doctor 
Porter invited him into his study, where he had not been more 
than ten minutes when I perceived that Dr. Nettleton was 
uneasy, and on Mrs. Porter s coming into the room he said, 
" Cannot you contrive to get your husband out of his study ; I 
fear he is injuring that man." He then proceeded to make 
such remarks on the subject as proved of great service to me 
in subsequent life. 

Where the pulpit is supplied by the officers in succession, 
college revivals are apt to suffer from a want of unity and 
adaptedness in the preaching. Those familiar with revivals 
know that they have certain stages of progress, and that if the 
preaching is not adapted to the particular phase the work has 
assumed, it will do little good, and may do much hurt. It 
often happens that college officers have not had much if any 
experience in revivals, and imagine that the presentation of 


any great and solemn truth during such a season will be 
appropriate. Some of them, too, are afraid to trust them 
selves in extemporaneous preaching, and must hence choose a 
written sermon from the small stock perhaps on hand ; and it 
may be finely prepared and delivered, and well fitted for any 
other time, but quite unadapted to a revival. A check is thus 
put to the work which often requires great effort on the part 
of the experienced pastor to counteract. 

Dr. Nettleton had peculiar sensitiveness on this point, and 
believed that the best of preachers would make sad blunders 
in this matter unless he had for some time participated in the 
work, so as to know what nails needed to be driven and 
clenched at a particular time. I have heard an anecdote, from 
such authority that I can hardly question its truth, concerning 
him and Dr. Lyman Be echer, who was his particular friend 
and one of the ablest revival preachers in the land. A revival 
had been going on in New Haven for a fortnight, in which Mr. 
Nettletoii had been laboring. But one evening when the 
middle church was filled with hearers, Dr. Beecher arrived 
late in town and was persuaded to preach before he had learnt 
the exact state of the revival. At the close of the service Mr. 
Nettleton met him at the bottom of the pulpit stairs and put 
the question, " Do you know what you have been doing 
tin s evening ? " "I have been trying to preach the Gospel," 
was the Doctor s reply. " You have put back this revival a 
fortnight," was the rejoinder. 

Not unfrequently, as every experienced pastor knows, a 
good deal of religious interest may exist in a church for a long 
time, and yet it seems doubtful whether a revival will be the 
result. It seems to need some startling event to give a religious 
influence the predominence and awaken the unconverted -just 
as a salt dissolved in a menstruum even to saturation will not 
begin to crystalize till a nucleus is thrown in. This decisive 
event may be some startling Providence or some unusual 
development of wickedness. I have given a curious example 


of the latter in my Valedictory Address on leaving the Presi 
dency, which I here quote. 

"There was one scene of a very peculiar character, which I always 
supposed was decidedly instrumental in bringing on one of these 
revivals, that I ought, perhaps, to rescue from oblivion. Every one 
conversant with seasons of special religious interest, knows that often 
it seems long uncertain what will be the result of an awakened state 
of feeling in respect to spiritual things, until, at length, some slight 
circumstance turns the scale one way or the other. In 1835, when I 
acted as the locum tcnens of Dr. Humphrey, who was absent in 
Europe, we were in this state of awakened interest and anxious 
expectation. The non-professors of religion in College, actuated I 
know not by what motives, had invited Mr. Burgess, then tutor and 
now missionary in India, to conduct a weekly religious meeting for 
them alone. He occasionally invited other members of the Faculty 
to assist him at these meetings. I was making some remarks at one 
of them, when suddenly a train of gunpowder, laid all around the 
room, and which must have contained some pounds, exploded, filling 
the upper part of the room with smoke too dense to breathe in. Per 
haps it was providential that one was conducting the meeting who 
had for nearly ten years been familiar with all sorts of detonations in 
a chemical laboratory, and who was not, therefore, greatly disturbed 
by this new example. Recollecting that the opposite room, now the 
Zoological Cabinet, where I was daily lecturing, was filled up with 
seats, I invited my auditors to repair thither, and we finished the 
meeting, which, as may well be imagined, became at its close intensely 
solemn. It was the decisive blow that ushered in the revival, although 
intended to put it down, by Satan, its instigator. I well recollect 
that at the time of the occurrence, I felt almost sure that a revival 
would follow such unwise over-acting on his part. It was so ; and I 
may add, that the unfortunate young man, who set fire to the train, 
till then of unblemished character, was in less than an hour brought 
before the Faculty, who had no alternative but to inflict the highest 
college censure upon him." 

In my published account of the revival of 1850 I have given 
an example where the case was decided by the concentration 
about the Annual Concert of Prayer for Colleges of several 
startling events. For this reason and some others, I introduce 
the whole of that account as given in several papers. 


" REVIVAL IN AMHERST COLLEGE. Gratitude to Divine Grace, as 
well as a sense of obligation to the friends of Amherst College, 
seem to demand a brief statement respecting the spiritual blessings 
it has recently experienced, in connection with severe temporal 

"During the two years past, (1849 and 1850,) a good deal of special 
religious interest was exhibited in the Institution, for a portion of 
the year. The influence of these seasons was very happy upon 
Christians, and a few interesting cases of conversion occurred. And 
did the church realize the immense importance of such seasons in 
our literary institutions, they would feel as if they were a rich 
answer to their prayers, even though such seasons be not technically 
called revivals. 

" L But the displays of Divine Grace during the term just closing, 
have been far greater ; and may justly be regarded as the ninth 
marked and powerful revival of religion since 1823, when the first 
occurred under the Presidency of Dr. Moore. 

At the beginning of the term, there were a few who felt an unusual 
spirit of prayer, and very strong desires to see a work of the Lord. 
And they labored and prayed for weeks without much encourage 
ment, though some were awakened, and one or two hopefully con 
verted. But next came the heavy judgments of God. The Fast 
Day for literary institutions, in February, is always a solemn day ; 
but this year it was more solemn than ever before. A beloved 
instructor (Professor Peabody) who had just joined us, and given 
rich promise of great usefulness, was suddenly cut down and lay 
dead in our midst, on that day. An unusual number of the members 
of College, also, about that time, received accounts of the death, or 
the conversion of friends at home. In two instances, those who 
died were recently members of College, and were among the few 
who were hopefully converted during the special attention of the 
two last years. The death of a venerable Trustee and benefactor 
of the institution, (Gov. Armstrong,) was among the announcements 
that came upon us with a startling effect. Indeed we do not recol 
lect, ever before, forming a part of a community on which there 
were concentrated and reiterated, such powerful appeals to repent 
ance. But on looking round, it seemed for a time as if they were 
all likely to fail of a converting effect, and as if no revival would 
follow. Then it was, however, when we had been taught the pow- 
erlessness even of such means, to convert the soul, that we were 
made to see how easily, by a mere breath of Divine efficiency, it 
might be done. The work, silently, though not very rapidly, 


advanced, till there were very few who did not acknowledge its 
influence, though many resisted it. 

" Of the present members of College, amounting to 179, 106 are 
professors of religion ; of the others, as many as 30 indulge hopes 
of having been converted during this revival, besides a few con 
nected with the families who worship in the College Chapel. Abso 
lutely, this number is not very large, but relatively, it is, we believe, 
fully equal to any revival we have ever enjoyed. How many of 
them will endure to the end, God only knows, and on his help hang 
our hopes of the perseverance of any. 

"We subjoin a few remarks that may give a more definite idea of 
this work of grace. 

"I. It was the object of long continued, earnest prayer and per 
severing effort. We have never in College witnessed a more ago 
nizing spirit of prayer, nor more consistent, persevering efforts on 
the part of some, than for six or seven weeks before the full answer 
came. This was our strongest ground of hope, for it seemed con 
trary to the analogy of God s Providence that he should not answer 
such prayer. 

" II. We have never known the character, offices, and work of the 
Holy Spirit, so much dwelt upon in any revival, in the preaching, 
as in this. As the officers supplied the pulpit in rotation, this was 
not the result of a preconcerted plan, but the spontaneous impulse 
of the heart. Yet we must believe that it had some connection with 
the result, for them that honor me, says God, I will honor. 

" III. The work had its peculiar type or character. We never 
witnessed a revival that had not, and we are satisfied that one most 
important point for the pastor of a church in the beginning of a 
revival, is, to learn how God means to carry on the work. For the 
want of attention to this point, we think not a few revivals have 
been blighted in the bud, either by attempting to go before the Spirit, 
or lingering too far behind. In this work we noticed the following 
facts : 

" 1. It moved forward steadily and slowly, and the interest con 
tinued longer than usual. Indeed, up to this day, the meetings have 
continued to be crowded and solemn, and may it not be hoped that 
another term shall witness a continuance of the work ? 

" 2. There was no opposition to it. Nearly all seemed to be con 
vinced of their need of religion, and that the present was the most 
favorable time for securing it, and the grand point seemed to be, to 
persuade them not to delay acting according to their convictions. 


"3. Fear of punishment seemed to have but little influence in 
producing conviction. The predominant feeling among those 
awakened was, that they had no adequate sense of their own ingrat 
itude and depravity, though in some instances the sense of sin was 

"4. There was very little of animal excitement. The studies of 
College were pursued as usual, and although the meetings were full 
and solemn, there were few outward signs of emotion. 

"o. Hope and comfort came in gradually for the most part, and 
did not become strong and clear till the individual had passed 
through several alternations of darkness and light. 

" G. We may add, as another peculiarity, that the work has extended 
more or less into the town of Amherst; although several revivals 
have occurred in the place since 1823, we believe one has never 
before seemed to be connected with a work in the College, nor vice 

" The guardians and instructors of the College have reason to 
rejoice in this new opportunity to testify to the Divine faithfulness 
and special mercy. The blessing has been greater than their antic 
ipations or their faith. They have also occasion to be thankful to 
the churches for their fervent and effectual prayers. Let them be 
encouraged by what God has done, to continue their supplications, 
and let none doubt any more, God s readiness to gratify their largest 
desires for the advancement of his kingdom." 

The subject referred to in the above account of a difference 
of types in different revivals is one of no small importance. 
Sometimes Christians are startled out of their dreamy state by 
finding impenitent men awake and pressing into the kingdom. 
Such revivals may be expected to be short, and it behooves 
preachers and private Christians to do with their might what 
their hands find to do. In another case the church agonizes in 
prayer and labors long before any are awakened, and then the 
cases are isolated and each conversion seems to demand impor 
tunate and continued prayer. The labor is Sisyphean from 
beginning to end, yet the revival is usually a protracted one, 
and the converts are quite apt to hold out. Sometimes even 
from the first there is strong opposition, and ridicule and social 
influence are vigorously employed to counteract the power of 
truth. In such a case it is like sailing against wind and tide, 


with the white crested waves dashing over the ship. But in 
other cases no whisper of opposition is heard, and you find 
yourself delightfully lifted up on a great wave of influence, nor 
can you tell when it begins to subside till you look out on the 
surrounding waves and perceive that their crests are getting 
above you. In the first case, when the opposition is conquered, 
as it almost always is, we may expect a larger harvest of souls 
than in the latter case, when the wave of revival influence 
subsides so soon and gently that many who meant to be saved 
find themselves stranded on the shoals of self-righteousness or 
driven about in the whirlpools of error, till they are borne into 
the great maelstrom of infidelity, from which they never 

How important now that preachers, and private Christians 
also, should be able to discern early this variety of types in 
revivals, that they may modify their efforts. And especially in 
college, where, from the nature of young men and the arrange 
ment of terms, revivals may be expected to be unusually short. 
The influences that modify character are usually very rapid in 
college. In the four years of the course I reckon that charac- i 
ter is changed as much as in most communities in thirty or // 
forty years. Almost as much more rapid is the progress of 
revivals hi colleges, so that what we do should be done quickly, 
lest the golden opportunity should slip out of our hands. 
Alas ! very rarely have I been able at the close of a revival 
to look back upon it without sadness and self-reproach, because 
I had not been as diligent as I ought to have been, nor improved 
as I might the precious opportunity. I had calculated confi 
dently upon the rescue of this or that young man, and perhaps 
had I followed them up more faithfully they would not have 
resisted the truth, and after coming so near to heaven s gate 
have sunk back again into the mire of the world. But they 
are out of my reach now, and I shall probably never have 
another opportunity to warn them with any hope of success. 

As I have already intimated, our revivals have differed 
much, not only in type but in power. Sometimes the power 


of sin seemed to be but little crippled, and maintained a bold 
front through the whole revival period, though many individu 
als bowed before the truth. The season when the fewest con 
verts were brought in was in 1860, when not more than two 
or three conversions occurred, though these were of great 
interest, and the church was thoroughly roused. Still it may 
be doubtful whether this work should be reckoned among the 
marked revivals in the College. If it is, I am sure that there 
have been a large number of similar seasons in the history of 
the College, when we reckoned more converts than in 1860. 
Indeed it is doubtful whether any year has passed without 
several conversions, and the occurrence of some awakened 
interest among Christians. It is always difficult to get 
through with the scenes and influences of the Annual Fast 
without some such results. 

But the revival of 1858 was of a different character, and 
most probably exceeded in its subduing power any other in 
our whole history. This was the year of " the Great Awak 
ening " throughout the land, and will form one of the brightest 
pages in the history of the American Church. I copy hen% 
from Prof. Tyler s Prayer for Colleges, the account of this 
revival in Amherst College, by President Stearns, as well as 
a paragraph added by myself at his request, all of wliich 
appeared in the newspapers: 

" The religious community will be interested to know that in the 
Great Awakening of the times, Amherst College has not beep 
passed by unblessed. A wonderful revival of religion has just beei 
experienced here. It commenced with the term which has recently 
closed. From small beginnings, it made gradual progress, till our 
entire collegiate community was brought under its influence. "Week 
after week the little cloud might be seen rising, spreading, thicken 
ing, with here and there a few drops, and many intervening alterna 
tions of hope and fear on the part of observers, till, towards the end 
of the term, the shower began to fall, and for the last ten days the 
great rain was not stayed. 

"Nearly three-quarters of our number were previously professors 
of religion, about twenty of them having taken their stand publicly 


on the side of Christ some months before. Of the remainder, between 
forty and fifty have here been hopefully converted during the term, 
leaving less than twenty in the whole College undecided. Besides 
these, ten or twelve who had once been professors, some of them 
giving little or no evidence of piety, were awakened and converted 
anew, while nearly the whole body of Christian students seemed to 
receive a fresh baptism of the Spirit. 

" Of the Senior class, but three or four remain who have not 
commenced the Christian life ; of the Junior class, but one, and he a 
serious inquirer, if not a Christian ; of the Sophomore class, four or 
five ; of the Freshman, nine or ten. 

" The work has been characterized by quietness and decorum. No 
extraordinary measures were adopted to promote it. No additional 
meetings were held, except short meetings for prayer in groups of 
students by themselves, and a general prayer-meeting, often limited to 
three-quarters of an hour, in the early part of the evening, and, for 
the last ten days of the term, held nearly every evening in the week. 
Though these meetings were conducted on the voluntary principle 
throughout, in many prayers and exhortations offered by students and 
others, nothing was done or said, even in a single instance, so far as I 
remember, to which the most fastidious Christian taste could take 
exception. And when the religious feeling was strongest and all- 
pervading, not a single regular class recitation was omitted in conse 
quence of it. While there was no appearance of extravagance, 
irregular zeal, or enthusiasm, there was manifested a deep sense of 
sin, an entire giving up of all hopes of self-salvation, unconditional 
submission to a sovereign God, complete dependence on the Holy 
Spirit, and the affectionate and often joyful confidence of faith in 

" The reformation of character and manners was no less remarkable 
than the renewal of hearts. College discipline, in the way of restraint 
and censure, seemed to lose its office ; order prevailed, study was 
attended to as a religious duty ; sacred psalms took the place of ques 
tionable songs, and social revelries gave way to heavenly friendships. 
Many young men have been hopefully snatched from ruin, and 
inspired with new feelings of self-respect and new and noble determi 
nations for the future. How they will hold out, time must show. 
Generally, in such cases, some fall back. But many circumstances 
inspire us with unusual confidence that this unhappy number will be 
small. The changes seem to us like those radical and permanent 
ones, of which, under the power of religion, we have seen so many. 
We ask the prayers of all Christians. Brethren, PKAY for us." 


" To this statement by the pastor Dr. Hitchcock added the following 
testimony, as the result of his own long observation and experience : 
I have been witness to all the revivals here since the College was 
established, except the first during Dr. Moore s Presidency; and I 
must say, that I do not remember in any of them such an almost 
universal and thoroughly subduing power manifested as during the 
last two weeks of the term just closed. One or two facts will show 
this to those who are acquainted with college life. All such know the 
intense and almost irresistible desire of students to start for home at 
the earliest possible momont of release at the end of a term. But 
this year nearly all remained over night at the invitation of the Presi 
dent, that they might attend a parting religious meeting, which proved 
one of intense interest. Another fact is new in the religious history 
of the College. Those students who remain in town during vacation, 
with the officers and their families, meet twice a week for prayer ; 
and there is no abatement of religious interest. The small number 
of those left unconverted, much less than in any former revival, 
also shows the thoroughness of the work. " 

Could the founders of this College reappear among us, 
some of them still survive, how gratified would they be 
with such a history of God s interposition in its behalf! Let 
us now see how successful the Institution has been in accom 
plishing the great object for which it was founded, viz.: in 
raising up Ministers and Missionaries. 


The Triennial of 1863 contains the names of 1,520 gradu 
ates, of whom 610 are put down as ministers, including all 
clerical missionaries. But none are called ministers on this 
list who have not been licensed to preach, and have actually 
entered upon the profession as an exclusive employment. Of 
course those not unfrequent cases where graduates both teach 
and preach, and those who from providential hindrances have 
been prevented from entering the ministerial profession, are 
not in the list, nor is that still larger number among recent 
graduates who are now in a course of preparation, at a theo 
logical seminary or elsewhere, for the ministry. Nay, all 
these are included among these who have chosen other profes- 



sions or no profession : whereas nearly all of them sought a 
public education for the sole purpose of preaching the GospeL 
Surely these should all be reckoned among ministers, and 
among those who are accomplishing the grand object of the 
Institution; for some of them are probably more useful as 
teachers and preachers, than they would be simply as preach 
ers. I have done my best to ascertain the number of these 
clerical teachers, and those in preparation for the ministry, and 
correcting the Triennial by this addition, the following list 
will show the number of ministers in the several classes to 
1860, although doubtless considerably below the truth, espe 
cially in the more recent classes. For in some instances 
graduates are obliged to teach one or two years after leaving 
College, and do not enter for some time upon the study of a 





S = 






































































































































It appears from the preceding table that the number of 
ministers, and those preparing for the ministry, among the 


graduates up to 18 60, amounts to 700, which is thirteen more 
than half of all the graduates : and hence we are able to say 
that thus far more than half our graduates have sought the 
ministerial profession. This is certainly a gratifying conclusion. 
Yet I have added a column showing the average per cent, of 
ministers for the first four years, and then for each successive 
five years, and it awakens some solicitude, for it shows that 
the proportion of such which was in 1830 as high as 65 per 
cent., has been gradually diminishing, till in 1855 it was only 
35, and in 1860, 44. I think there was a special reason 
for the decrease that followed 1832. For in that year a 
change was made in our winter vacations which made it very 
difficult for our indigent students to keep school without losing 
their literary standing, and as a consequence such went to 
other colleges, where they could be better accommodated. 
True this leak was discovered, and the vacations were put 
back into the old notch in 1840, but causes of this sort are 
slow in their operation, and the tide having begun to set the 
wrong way, it took a long time to turn it back ; and when I 
took the Presidency in 1845, it was one of the hardest changes 
I labored upon to bring back that class of young men : but 
even for ten years I did little more than to keep the waters 
from sinking lower. We have never gone back to the high 
per cent, of early days : nay, I fear we must confess that a 
downward progress is the settled order of things. Yet this 
is a melancholy conclusion, in view of the grand object for 
which the College was founded. 

I have made some effort to ascertain how the above 700 
ministers have been distributed amqng the different religious 
denominations. But as it was usually accidental if I discov 
ered their preferences of this sort, while connected with the 
College, and I have been able to follow them but imperfectly 
since they left us, the following estimate must be regarded as 
not a very close approximation to the truth : 


Orthodox Congregationalists, Presbyterians and 
Dutch Reformed, . . ... 673 

Baptists, . . . . . . 21 

Episcopalians, f . . . 5 

Unitarians, . *. . . . . . .6 

Universalists, ..... . . 2 

The relative number of ministers furnished by the Northern 
Colleges compared with the whole number of their graduates 
is shown below. At Amherst the estimate embraces all the 
graduates to the present time ; but in the other Colleges I 
have not access to the means of bringing it down later than 

At Amherst one in . f ; . 1.96 
At Middlebury one in . . . ... " 2.31 

At Vermont University one in . . . 3.10 
At Williams College one in . . . 3.13 
At Hamilton College one in . , f . 3.7 
At Yale and Brown one in . ., ? 3.8 
At Dartmouth one in .... 3.9 

At Harvard one in . . . . . 4.2 

At Princeton one in . . . . . 5.4 

At Bowdoin one in . . . . . 5.6 

The yearly supply of ministers from the same colleges up 
to the same periods has been as follows : 

Amherst, 17.5 

Yale, . . 10.3 

Middlebury, 7.8 

Williams, . . . . . . 7.2 

Dartmouth, . . . . . 7.0 

Harvard, 6.9 

Princeton, ... . . . . 5.3 

Brown, . . . . , , , 5.1 

Vermont University, . . . 1.6 

Almost all the above institutions were founded by religious 
men and with essentially the same object in view as at Amherst. 


It is certainly gratifying, therefore, to its founders to see it thus 
stand at the head of the list. But let him that thinketh he 
standeth take heed lest he fall. 


The circumstances of our country of late years, stretching 
across the continent and embracing almost every variety of 
climate, soil and tribes of the human family, have almost oblit 
erated the distinction between foreign and domestic missions. 
As I have said in my sermon on the United States as a com 
missioned Missionary Nation, published by the College Society 
of Inquiry : 

" We used to look upon these fields as exceedingly diverse, and to 
regard the foreign one as calling for much more self-denial and sacri 
fice than the domestic. But with the single exception of greater 
personal security from governmental protection at home, in what 
respect does the foreign differ from the home field ? Is it in distance ? 
But how few pagan fields are more distant than the Pacific shores ? 
Is it in the degradation and misery of the inhabitants ? But where in 
heathen lands, will you find men more sunk in ignorance, poverty 
and superstition, than many of the wandering tribes along the Ilocky 
Mountains, or the inhabitants of New Mexico, or our slave popula 
tion, or even many of those disembogued from the prisons and poor- 
houses of Europe upon our Atlantic cities ? Is it in the unhealthiness 
of the climate ? But even Africa itself is scarcely more full of deadly 
miasms than many of the low fever-producing regions of this country. 
Is it in a separation from civilized life r But what isolation can be 
more complete, to one accustomed to refined society, than vast regions 
in our country, where the pioneer woodsman and hunter have yet 
found only a precarious foothold. Is it in a great diversity of lan 
guage and habits ? Truly we have a Babel among us, and habits and 
manners as diverse as the antipodes can furnish. 

The matter of fact is, that God has so located us, and environed 
us, and mingled foreigners among us, that to do our duty as mission 
aries in many parts of what we call our country, demands the same 
humble and devoted pietv, the same physical and moral training, and 
the same willingness to submit to privation and hardships, as on any 
foreign shore. And the lesson is an important one, because it identi 
fies the work everywhere as one. It awakens sympathy among the 


laborers, and makes them feel that all are exposed nearly alike to the 
heat and burden of the day, and entitled to the same reward if faith 
ful. It shows us all that the missionary cause is a work for the 
world, and not for particular localities. It shows us that a mission 
ary spirit is the appropriate characteristic of every Christian, without 
which he ought not to bear the name." 

The founders of Amherst College, as appears from the 
Preamble to their original Constitution, had both these classes 
of missionaries in view in their enterprise. But those who 
chose the foreign field, both from location and the mode of 
their appointment, became more definitely known than the 
others. Indeed, since every grade of destitution exists in our 
country, it is not easy to say in many cases whether a minister 
should be called a home missionary or an ordinary pastor. 
Moreover, not a few ordinary pastors after a while enter upon 
the missionary work in some destitute field, and perhaps we 
never hear of it. Hence I have been unable to obtain a defi 
nite list of the domestic missionaries educated here, as I have 
of those who have left the country. Professor Tyler states 
that in 1850 as many as fifty graduates of Amherst were 
laboring as domestic missionaries ; which was about as many 
as had gone to the foreign field during the whole history of the 
College. In 1863 the latter amounted to sixty-three. The 
following list will show when and where they have gone, and 
as I was acquainted with them all I should be glad to give 
additional facts concerning them. 

1. David 0. Allen, from Princeton ; born in 1800 ; gradu 
ated in 1823, two years before the Charter; studied at Andover 
and went to India in 1827. His wife died in 1831 ; remarried; 
has resided several years in this country and written valuable 
works on India. Received the degree of D. D. from Amherst 
in 1853. 

2. John Taylor Jones, from Ashby ; graduated in 1825; 
sent, in 1825, to Siam, by the Baptist Board of Missions. 
Died in 1851. Received the degree of D. D. frpm Columbia 



3. Elijah Colman Bridgman, from Belchertown ; graduated 
in 1826; from Andover, 1829; same year sent to China; 
received the degree of D. D. from New York University ; died 
in 1861, after thirty-two years of missionary labor. 

4. Alonzo Chapin, from West Springfield; graduated in 
1826; a physician; studied at Philadelphia; went to the 
Sandwich Islands in 1831, and was honorably released in 
1837. Has since resided in the eastern part of Massachusetts. 

5. JZdward Jones, from New York city ; graduated in 1826; 
sent as a missionary to Liberia by the Episcopal Church; 
afterwards transferred to the presidency of a college in Sierra 
Leone, where he still remains. He is a colored man, the only 
one who ever graduated at Amherst College. 

6. George W. Boygs, from Pendleton District, South Caro 
lina; graduated in 1827; sent to the Mahrattas, in India, in 
1832 ; returned hi 1838. I have no knowledge of his subse 
quent history. 

7. Stephen Johnson, from Griswold, Connecticut ; graduated 
in 1827 ; sent, by the American Board, as missionary to Ban- 
kok, in Siam, in 1833 ; returned in 1838, and his wife died in 
1839 ; but he married again and went back to Siam. 

8. Reuben Tinker, from Chester, Massachusetts ; graduated 
in 1827 ; finished study at Auburn in 1830 and went to the 
Sandwich Islands ; visited the Washington Islands in 1832 ; 
returned in 1841 on account of a difficulty with the American 
Board ; was settled as pastor of the church in Westfield, New 
York, in 1845, and died in 1854. His biography, by Dr. M. 
L. P. Thompson, was published in 1856. 

9. Isaac Bliss, from Warren, Massachusetts ; graduated in 
1828; from Auburn in 1831 ; went to the Sandwich Islands 
in 1836 ; returned in 1842, and died in 1851. 

Five missionaries by the name of Bliss have gone out from 
Amherst College. 

10. Story ffebard, from Lebanon, New Hampshire, gradu 
ated in 1828 : my assistant in the Laboratory and in a geolog 
ical survey of Massachusetts : also Tutor two years : distin- 


guished afterwards as a teacher in Springfield : left Andover 
in 1834 and went missionary to Syria in 1835, where he was 
principal of a High School on Mount Lebanon. In 1841 
he started on his return and died on the passage. 

11. Ashur Miss, from West Fairlee, Vermont, graduated 
in 1829 : from Andover in 1832, and the same year went as 
missionary to the Indians of New York, then regarded as a 
foreign mission. So far as I know, he is still alive. 

12. Henry Lyman. Born in Northampton, but resided in 
Amherst during his collegiate course, where he graduated in 
1829, and at Andover in 1832 : went as a missionary to the 
Indian Archipelago in 1833 : murdered in Sumatra by the 
Battas in 1834. His biography has been published. 

13. Benjamin W. Perkins, from Reading, Massachusetts, 
graduated in 1829, and from Andover in 1832: went to 
Sandwich Islands the same year and visited the Washington 
Islands in 1833. He still lives to labor in the Sandwich 

14 Justin Perkins, from West Springfield, graduated in 
1829: was two years Tutor at Amherst: studied at 
Andover: went to the Nestorians of Persia in 1833. Eight 
years afterwards he visited this country and published a work 
of 500 pages, entitled " Residence in Persia, &c." He went 
back and remained till 1859, when he returned again on 
account of the health of his wife. In 1862 he went back 
again to Persia, although he had labored there more than a 
quarter of a century. In 1842 the title of D. D. was con 
ferred on him by his Alma Mater. 

15. JZlias Riggs, from Mendham, New Jersey, graduated 
in 1829, and from Andover in 1832 : in 1833 he went as a 
missionary to Greece: in 1838 he was transferred to Turkey 
and he still lives to labor in Constantinople. He has visited 
this country once at least, and in 1853 Dartmouth College 
conferred on him the degree of D. D. 

In the class of 1829 were five missionaries, all of whom, 
except Henry Lyman, still live. 


16. William Arms, from Montrose, Pennsylvania, graduated 
in 1830, and from Andover in 1833 : he was sent with Mr. 
Coan as a missionary to Patagonia in 1833, from which he 
returned and was then appointed to go among the Dyaks of 
Borneo in 1835. He returned in 1837, and on account of bad 
health was released : studied medicine and received a medi 
cal degree at Hanover, N. H., in 1839, and went west as a 
practitioner, where he may be still living. He also acted for 
a time as domestic missionary. 

17. Henry A. Homes, from Boston; graduated in 1830, 
also from New Haven in 1833. In 1834 he went as mission 
ary to Turkey, having spent a year in Paris on his w r ay. In 
1839 he visited Syria and Mesopotamia, where he narrowly 
escaped death from the Mohammedans. Afterwards he left the 
service of the Board of Missions, and was connected with the 
American Embassy; subsequently he returned to this coun 
try, and has been assistant librarian of the State Library in 
Albany. He was not professedly pious till after he left 

18. Oliver P. Powers, from Phillipston, Massachusetts; 
graduated in 1830, and from Andover in 1834 ; missionary the 
same year to Broosa, Asia Minor; afterwards he went to 
Central Turkey, where he labored for many years, but is 
now in this country on account of the health of his wife. 

19. James L. Merrick, from Monson, Massachusetts; grad 
uated in 1830, and studied theology at Columbia, South Caro 
lina, on account of his health ; went out as a missionary to 
Persia in 1834; came near losing his life there from a mob 
of Mussulmen, for attempting with some German missionaries 
to distribute the Bible. Ordered in 1842 to join the Nesto- 
rian mission at Ooroomiah. Recalled and dismissed in 1845, 
on account of some difference of opinion between him and the 
Missionary Board. Subsequently settled in South Amherst, 
where he is still pastor. 

20. Benjamin Schneider, from New Hanover, in Pennsyl 
vania; graduated in 1830, and from Andover in 1833; went 


the same year as missionary to Broosa, in Asia Minor ; after 
wards transferred to Aintab, on the Euphrates, where he has 
had extraordinary success. He has visited this country once. 
Received the degree of D. D. from Franklin Marshal College, 
in Pennsylvania. 

21. Ebenezer Burgess, from Grafton, Vermont; graduated 
in 1831, and was a Tutor in College two years ; from Andover 
in 1837 ; went the same year to India, to the Mahrattas, sub 
sequently to Ahmednuggur, and finally to Satara ; lost his wife 
and child, and came home, but returned ; but health failing 
again, and being dissatisfied with some of the measures of the 
Mission Board as to education, he resigned, and has been since 
a preacher in several places. Since his return he has pub 
lished a learned work on Astronomy, a translation of the 
Surya Siddhanta. 

22. Alden Grout, from Pelham, Massachusetts; graduated 
in 1831, and from Andover in 1834; went as missionary to 
the Zulus of South Africa in 1835 ; lost his wife, and returned 
in 1837 ; re-married, and returned and labored till two or 
three years ago, when he again visited the United States ; but 
he has returned, and is still laboring among the Zulus very 

23. Israel W. Searl, from Southampton, Massachusetts ; 
graduated in 1832 ; did not study a profession, but was sent as a 
missionary teacher to Liberia by the Colonization Society, and 
soon died there, probably from neglect of proper precaution. 
He found himself feeling in Africa as he did in New England, 
and hence concluded that the usual care used was unnecessary, 
and his death was the result. 

24. Obadiah M. Johnson, from Newark, New Jersey ; grad 
uated in 1832 ; became a minister, and went as Seaman s 
Chaplain to Ilio Janeiro, in South America. He afterwards 
returned and was settled as a minister, but I know not where. 

25. Leander Thompson, from Woburn, Massachusetts ; grad 
uated in 1835, and from Andover in 1838. Went as mission 
ary to Syria in 1840, but returned in 1845, partly, I believe, 


from difference of opinion between him and the Missionary 
Board ; afterwards settled for several years at South Hadley 
Falls, and since then over another church. 

26. James C. Bryant, from New Boston, New Hampshire ; 
graduated in 1836, from Andover in 1840 ; did not go out as 
a missionary to the Zulus in South Africa till 1846 ; having 
been settled for five years as a pastor in Littleton ; he labored 
in Africa till 1850, when he died. 

27. Samuel C. Damon, from Holden, Massachusetts ; 
graduated in 1836, and from Andover in 1841. Not long 
after he went out to the Sandwich Islands as Seaman s 
Chaplain, and he has since resided at Honolulu, except he has 
once or twice visited this country. For many years he has 
edited a very useful newspaper called "The Friend." In 
1861 Mr. Damon visited Micronesia, and gave an interesting 
description of those Islands, both in the " Friend " and in a 
pamphlet of 78 pages, called the " Morning Star Papers." 

28. Edwin JS. Bliss, from West Springfield ; graduated in 
1837, and from Andover in 1842 ; in 1843 went as a mission 
ary to Trebizond ; in 1848, returned to this country on account 
of the health of his wife, but went back, and now resides in 

29. George B. Howell, from Cornish, New Hampshire; 
graduated in 1837, and at Andover in 1841. In 1843 he was 
sent to the Sandwich Islands, and I am not aware that he has 
ever returned. He still lives and labors there. 

30. Samuel Austin Taylor, from Worcester ; graduated in 
1837, and in 1842 at Andover. To what part of the world he 
went I have not ascertained ; but he died in 1847, only 29 
years old. 

31. Henry J. Van Lennep, from Smyrna, Asia Minor, son 
of the Dutch Consul ; graduated in 1837 with the highest 
honors, also from Andover in 1840, and the same year went 
as missionary to Smyrna. He has lost two wives, and been 
back to this country three times. He is now here in 1862. 
For a time he was connected with a High School at Constan- 


tinople. Afterwards he went to Tocat, the burial place of 
Henry Martyn, where a few years ago he had his house and 
all his library burned. He received the degree of D. D. 
at Amherst in 1862. 

32. William Walker, from Greensboro , Vermont; gradu 
ated in 1838 ; and in 1841 at Andover. In 1842 he went as 
a missionary to the mouth of the Gaboon River, in West Africa. 
He has lost two wives, and I believe is now living with the 
third. He has visited this country twice, and perhaps three 
times, and perhaps it is owing to such occasional changes that 
he has been able to preserve good health for nineteen years in 
the deadly climate of Western Africa. 

33. Joel S. Everett, from Halifax, Vermont ; graduated in 
1840, and in 1845 went as a missionary to Smyrna, in Asia 
Minor, and was transferred to Constantinople, where he died 
in 1856, much missed and lamented. 

34. William W. Rowland, from West Brookfield; graduated 
hi 1841, and studied theology in the New York Theological 
Seminary. Went to Ceylon in 1845, where he labored till 
within three or four years, when poor health compelled lu m to 
return. But he has recovered vigor enough to allow him to 
go back. 

35. James, O. Bridgman, from Amherst; graduated in 1842. 
In 1846 he joined his uncle, Dr. Elijah C. Bridgman, in China, 
as a teacher. He translated and published Nottia Linguce 
Sinicae from Chinese into English ; but studied too hard ; his 
mind lost its balance, and he took his own life. 

36. Joseph G. Cochran, from Springville, New York ; 
graduated in 1842, and went as a missionary to Ooroomiah in 
1847, where he still labors. 

37. Isaac G. Bliss, from West Springfield, Massachusetts, 
and brother of Edwin E. Bliss, already mentioned, graduated 
in 1844, and in 1847 went as missionary to Erzeroom, in 
Armenia ; health failing, he returned in a few years, but at 
length went back to Constantinople to act as agent of the 
Bible Society. 


38. Eliphal Maynard, from Potsdam, New York ; gradu 
ated in 1844, and at East Windsor a few years after. "Went 
in 1849 as a missionary to the Jews in Asia Minor; but had 
hardly entered upon his work before he was smitten down by 
a disease of the brain. 

39. Joseph T. Noyes, from Newburyport; graduated in 
1845, and from Andover in course/ In 1848 he went as a 
missionary- to Ceylon, where he has continued till this time. 

40. Josiali Tyler, from East Windsor; son of President 
Tyler; graduated in 1845, and at East Windsor in 1848; 
appointed to South-Eastern Africa in 1848, where he has 
labored ever since. 

41. Sereno E. Bishop, from Oahu on the Sandwich Islands ; 
graduated in 1846 ; went subsequently to the Sandwich 
Islands as missionary of the Seaman s Friend Society, where 
he now labors. 

42. Charles Hartwdl, from Lincoln, Massachusetts ; gradu 
ated in 1849, and at Andover in course ; appointed soon after 
to a mission in China, where he has continued to labor till 
this time. Converted in College. 

43. Hubert P. Herrick, from McDonnough, New York; 
graduated in 1849 ; went as missionary to West Africa ; soon 
after returned on a visit to this country ; went back and died 
soon after in 1857. 

44. Henry Lobdell, from Danbury, Connecticut ; graduated 
in 1849 ; received a medical education at New Haven, and 
a theological one at Auburn, and went as missionary to 
Mosul in 1851, having previously been engaged with his wife 
in a select school in Danbury, Connecticut, during which time 
he published a translation of a large French work. He died 
at Mosul in 1855, and a memoir of him, of great interest, has 
been published by Professor Tyler. 

45. Albert G. Beele, from Guilford, New York ; graduated 
in 1850; went to Armenia, where his wife died; he returned 
home and I believe has dissolved his connection with the 
American Missionary Board and been settled as a pastor. 


46. Henry M. Adams, from Enosburg, Vermont ; graduated 
in 1851, and from East Windsor in 1854; went soon after to 
the Gaboon Mission in Western Africa, where he died in 
1856. His death was a remarkable exhibition of Divine 

47. Marcus M. Carlton, from Marshfield, Massachusetts ; 
graduated in 1851, in wretched health; went abroad as a 
missionary, but where, I cannot say. 

48. frauds A. Douglass, from Plattsburg, New York ; grad 
uated in 1851; sent as a missionary by the Baptist Board of 
Missions to Siam, where he is now laboring. 

49. William 0. Baldwin, from Mount Vernon, New Hamp 
shire ; graduated in 1851 ; went to the Sandwich Islands, 
where he labored many years. 

50. Heman N. Barnum, from Leicester, New York ; grad 
uated in 1852 ; visited Armenia a few years ago, where his 
classmate, O. P. Allen, is a missionary, and concluded to 
remain, and they are now associated in labor at Kharpoot. 

51. Orson P. Allen, from Mount Morris, New York ; grad 
uated in 1852 ; went to Eastern Turkey soon after, and is 
now laboring at Kharpoot. 

52. Daniel Bliss, from Geneva, Ohio ; graduated in 1852, 
and from Andover in course. He went soon after as a mis 
sionary to Syria, and is now in this country, raising funds for 
a University on Mount Lebanon, of which he is to be presi- 
ident. Converted in college. 

53. Samuel 0. Dean, from Oakham, Massachusetts ; grad 
uated in 1853, and went soon after to Satara, in India, where 
he is now laboring. 

54. Charles F. Morse, from Salem, Vermont ; graduated in 
1853, and from Andover in 1856 ; went subsequently to 
European Turkey, and is now laboring in Adrianople. 

55. James F. Clarke, from Sunderland, Massachusetts ; 
graduated in 1854. and from Andover in 1858 ; went subse 
quently to European Turkey, and is now laboring in 



56. Milan M. Hitchcock, from Bergen, New York; gradu 
ated in 1854, and from Bangor in course. Sent as a missionary 
to Ceylon in 1857 or 58 ; but was obliged to return in a year 
or two on account of his wife s health, and he is no longer 
connected with the Board. 

57. George Washburn, from Middleborough, Massachusetts ; 
graduated in 1855. He did not complete the study of theol 
ogy in this country, but went to Constantinople as a traveller, 
and remained there as mission treasurer. He has since 
returned to this country to prepare himself for ordination. 

58. James A. Bates, from Granby, Massachusetts ; gradu 
ated in 1856, and from Andover in 1859 ; and was sent as a 
missionary to Ceylon soon after, where he now resides. 

59. John H. Dodge, from Wenham, Massachusetts ; gradu 
ated in 1856, and from Andover in 1859. He was sent by the 
American Missionary Association soon after to "Western 
Africa ; but returned in a year or two on account of the health 
of his wife. He preached two years in Wendell, Massachu 
setts, and was then called by his Master out of the world in 

60. Amherst L. Thompson, from Amherst; graduated in 
1856, and from Andover in 1859 ; w r ent out as a missionary to 
Ooroomiah, but died soon after reaching his field. 

61. Henry M. Bridgman, from "Westhampton, Massachu 
setts ; graduated in 1857, and from Andover in 1860 ; went 
soon after to the Zulus in South-eastern Africa, where he 
now resides. 

62. Alvan B. Goodale, from Potsdam, New York ; gradu 
ated in 1858 ; received a medical education, and went to 
Central Turkey, where lie now labors as a physician. 

63. George Constantine, a native of Greece ; graduated in 
1859, and at Andover in 1862 ; he has gone to his native 
land, under the patronage of the American and Foreign 
Christian Union. 


The preceding list of missionaries presents us with the 
following results : 

Whole number to 1860, . .. . . 63 

Number of ministers, . . . . , 57 

Number of physicians, ... . 3 

Number of laymen, 3 

Number who have been married, . ,, ^ . 60 

Went out at first unmarried, . . . 7 

Married the second time, .... 8 

Married the third time, . . . 3 

Proportion of deaths among the men, one in 4.1 
Proportion of deaths among females, up to 

1849, one in . . . . 4.1 
Proportion of deaths among all the gradu 
ates, one iii . . . " . . 6.3 

No graduates from the classes of 1859 and 1860, except 
Constantine, have yet gone out as missionaries, though I know 
of several who have offered their services ; but their profes 
sional studies are not completed, and the war has cut short the 
funds. Hence we ought not to reckon these two years in 
ascertaining what proportion of the graduates have been foreign 
missionaries. Up to 1858 the proportion has been one in 20.7. 
I have not been able to ascertain what is the proportion in but 
a few other New England Colleges, but in 1852 it stood as 
follows : 

In Middlebury one in . ^ v 36.3 

In Williams one in . . . . , 40.0 
In Dartmouth one in . ... .. . 106.0 

It ought, however, to be recollected that the above Colleges 
graduated many classes before the subject of missions had 
excited much interest in our country, and in estimating the 
proportion of missionaries as compared with those of Amlierst 



such classes should be left out. But I have not the means of 
making such an estimate. 

If we put down the number of missionaries from Amherst in 
the first four years and the successive five years to 1860, it 
may be instructive. 














From 1822 to 1825, ....... 




From 1825 to 1830, 




From 18-30 to 1835, 




From 1835 to 1840 




From 1840 to 1845, 




From 1845 to 1850, 




From 1850 to 1855, 







Though this table would indicate waves of missionary influ 
ence, particularly from 1825 to 1830, we do not see in it evi 
dence that it has been on the decline. I fear, however, that 
we who preach have hardly done our duty to this cause. But 
there has always existed in the College a missionary band who 
meet from time to time, especially when some returned mis 
sionary happens to be in town, and I doubt not this association 
is one of the most important means of keeping alive the 
missionary spirit. 


The founders of the College did not merely propose to raise 
up ministers and missionaries, but to encourage the indigent 
classes to become such ; well knowing that this was the most 
reliable source of supply. We have seen their success in 
obtaining the men ; let us look at the aid they have rendered 
tfiem in the process of education. 

In his Valedictory Address in 1845, Dr. Humphrey stated 
that from 1825 to 1844 inclusive, there had been paid from the 



Charity Fund, to beneficiaries, $39,896.51. The smallest 
annual amount was in 1825, viz., $5G4.72, and in 1844 it was 
$2,229.76. He does not state the number of beneficiaries, but 
from 1844 to the present time, by the assistance of the Treas 
urer, the Hon. Edward Dickinson, I am able to give the num 
ber of those who have received aid each year, and also during 
my Presidency the number that were assisted by the American 
Education Society. 


1847, " 

1848, " 

1849, " 

1851, " 

1852, " 

1853, " 

1855, " 

1857, " 

1860, " 

1861, " 

Amount since 1845, 
" before 1845, 




$2,096 00. 


2,128 00. 


2,032 00. 


2,576 00. 


2,744 00. 


3,206 00. 


2,996 00. 


2,708 00. 


2,493 00. 


2,595 00. 


2,595 00. 


3,525 00. 


3,172 00. 


2,820 00. 


2,496 00. 


2,448 00. 


2,610 00. 

$45,240 00. 
39,897 00. 

Amount from Charity Fund, $85,137 00. 
" from Stimpson Fund, 4,766 00. 
" from the Moore Fund, 634 00. 

to indigent pious stu 

dents, . 

$90,537 00. 



It thus appears that up to this time the College has paid 
over ninety thousand dollars to aid those in straitened circum 
stances who are seeking the ministry, from all its funds devoted 


to that object. They do not, indeed, receive the money ; but 
it is equivalent to money by paying their term-bills. The 
income some years, especially before the Stimpson Fund 
became available, was not always sufficient to cancel their 
entire bills, and hence some of the Trustees imagined that if 
the whole bills were paid in such years it would be equivalent 
to paying from the treasury the amount of the deficiency. 
But Professor Fiske suggested that nothing was in fact paid 
from the treasury, but the College simply allowed such 
students to go on at a somewhat cheaper rate than others, and 
he recommended that the offer should be made on the cata 
logue that the entire regular term-bills of indigent students 
should be paid, and then they would know beforehand what 
to depend upon, and more would be attracted to the Col 
lege, and thus the College would really gain instead of 
losing by such an announcement. Accordingly, in 1846, 
when Providence provided such an increase to our funds, 
the Trustees voted to " remit the full amount of the regular 
term-bills to those students who desire it and are indigent and 
are preparing for the Christian ministry." I cannot doubt 
that it was mainly this vote that almost doubled the number 
of beneficiaries in three or four years, although the whole 
number of students in those years was much smaller than 
previously or afterwards. It brought back a very desirable 
class of young men who had been driven away some years 
previously by a change of the winter vacation unfavorable to 
school keeping, and thus carried out more completely one of 
the great objects of the College, viz., to help the indigent. I 
think the opposite effect of a partial return to the old policy 
of paying the term-bills only in part, may be seen in the 
reduced number of beneficiaries in proportion .to the number 
of students in later years. But the income of the three funds 
that have been described will soon be and I believe now is 
sufficient to pay the entire bills of all who apply and have the 
requisite qualifications. So that we shall need no further 
discussions on this subject. 


Gratifying as this review of the religious history of the Col 
lege is and of the wonderful success which God has given to the 
enterprise thus far, it is impossible to avoid some solicitude 
for the future. For almost every analogous literary institu 
tion, after becoming large and prosperous, has deteriorated- 
oli, how sadly, sometimes in religious character. I cannot 
but add a few things, therefore, at least, to show from what 
quarters the danger will come. 

1. The general source of the danger lies in prosperity and 
success. The furnace of adversity merely burns off the dross 
of Christian character ; but the sun of prosperity nourishes a 
host of weeds and excrescences. The first leads men to trust 
in God ; the last, in themselves. It is the same with asso 
ciated bodies of men, such as churches and literary institutions. 
Hence I tremble for Amherst College ; for although its out 
ward prosperity is not absolutely great, it is so in comparison 
with what it once was, and often it takes but a little success 
to ruin an individual, a church, or a college. 

2. Such a deteriorating process will not come on suddenly, or 
even visibly, but insidiously, and by infinitesimal changes. It 
always has been so in like cases. A simple omission to preach 
certain doctrines, or to do certain things, will often more 
effectually starve out and deaden vital piety than could be 
done by the most vigorous open assaults. 

3. A tolerance of vital errors and neglect boldly to preach 
the doctrines of the Reformation form some of the earliest 
evidences of downward progress in a religious college like 
Amherst. When it becomes unpopular to maintain such 
doctrines as the essentials of religion, and popular to admit 
the doctrine that the essence of true religion lies in right 
feelings which do not require a correct creed then the 
process of deterioration will have gone very far. For it 
ought never to be forgotten that the defection of Harvard 
University from the evangelical faith was the grand argument 
for building up another college, because its founders believed 
that the negative faith there adopted would never produce 


true conversions or raise up men of the right stamp for the 
world s conversion. If, then, the strong distinction between 
evangelical and unevangelical views should be abandoned, 
true revivals will soon cease a missionary spirit will die out, 
and a formal and genteel religion will take the place of 
earnest piety. It is certain that the tendency of opinions at 
this day in the community is to such a coalescence between 
error and orthodoxy, and it would be strange if the College, 
waxen fat by prosperity, should not sympathize in the delu 
sion. Oh that its guardians and officers might keep their 
eyes wide open to this danger. 

4. Another danger is that the desire and effort to make the 
students eminent in scholarship shall be stronger than to lead 
them to excel in piety. At the best not a few sacrifice their 
religion to their reputation ; but as the constant effort with 
teachers is to raise the literary standard, the danger is that 
the temptation will become too strong for any to resist. 

i>. Whatever increases the expenses of a college course 
tends to lower the standard of piety and to defeat the great 
objects of its founders. For it drives away those indigent 
pious young men who are striving, almost without means, to 
obtain an education, that they may become ministers and 
missionaries. And whatever any may think as to the other 
sources of danger that have been named, here is one that has 
already shown its disastrous influence extensively. While I 
was in the Presidency I labored with all my might to keep 
down the necessary expenses, and not without success, after 
God had added largely to our means, as the following state 
ment of expenses given in the Annual Catalogues before 1846 
and after 1854 will show. 

For several years previous to 1847 the estimated expenses 
were as follows : 

Tuition, room-rent and incidentals, . . $48.00 to $51.00 
Board, fuel, lights and washing, from . 65.00 to 99.00 


From 1847 to 1854 

Tuition, &c., . .- * : rJii . . $42.00 to $45.00 

Board, &c., . ; * V . . 48.00 to 89.00 

From 1855 to the present time, (1862,) 

Tuition, &c., v" * * $51.00 to $54.00 

Board,&c., . . >". - t -;--../.. 75.00 to 125.00 

It is true that during the last few years the expenses of 
living have been greater than in previous years. But it is 
also true that luxury and extravagance have increased in a 
still greater ratio in the community generally, and of course 
College has not escaped the influence. It has extended to 
students, and a costlier way of doing almost every thing was 
the result. For instance, it is now thought indispensable at 
every Commencement, and often at the Exhibitions, that one of 
the costly city bands of music should be engaged at an expense 
of several hundred dollars. So each class, ere it graduates, 
must get up a tasteful book, containing the photographs or 
engravings of the whole class and the Faculty. And the same 
system of doing things in good style is extended into all the 
operations of the numerous societies, and there is competition 
among the different associations to see which shall have the 
most splendid room or furniture or the largest library. For a 
time some of the poorer members of the classes who are at 
their wits end to know how they can get along with necessary 
expenses, remonstrate against these needless luxuries. But 
the cry is, you are niggardly and mean and dishonorable thus 
to thwart the wishes of the whole class or association, and the 
remonstrating members are forced into the traces to keep up 
with public opinion, if they can by hook or by crook find the 
means, or they drop out and leave College if they cannot. 

Now these things may not be immoral, and most of them 
may be even desirable, if they did not conflict with higher 
interests. But they do powerfully conflict with a leading 
object for which the College was founded, viz., to help young 
men who have no money to obtain an education. They 


compel multitudes of such either to avoid the College, or to quit 
it in mid course. They introduce in their place another class of 
students who, though they may be men of excellent character, 
and even professing Christians, yet are not looking to the min 
istry nor the missionary service, and therefore are not the men 
for whom the College was expressly founded. The gradually 
decreasing percentage of graduates who are looking to the 
ministerial office, which we have shown on another page, shows 
conclusively how this deteriorating process is going on as the 
fruit of prosperity. I am afraid that it has already advanced 
much farther than either Trustees or officers imagine. For I 
have told but a small part of the story. But I have watched 
these changes with painful solicitude, and with some sense of 
responsibility ; for it is in part the fruit of my own efforts to 
obtain funds for placing the institution on the high ground it 
now occupies. 




The Connecticut Valley is justly celebrated for the beauty 
of its scenery over an extent of more than two hundred 
miles long and of varying width. I include the hills and 
mountain ridges that border the intervals or cross them, so 
that in some places, as in the latitude of Springfield, the 
Valley is thirty or forty miles wide. In what latitude it is 
most attractive, it might be invidious to say, but none will 
doubt that Amherst and its vicinity are eminently beautiful. 
Nor will any doubt that scenery exerts an important influence 
upon the education of youth. It cultivates the taste, and 
when grand and romantic, inspires noble sentiments and pur 
poses. No graduate of Amherst ever forgets the inspiration 
of the romantic view that opened upon him in almost endless 
variety from College Hill, at different seasons of the year. 
So, too, there are numerous points of deep scenographic inter 
est around within half a day s walk or ride. I have found 
these so numerous and so little known that it has been one 
of my pleasant employments to look them up, and if possible, 
to make them accessible, and to impose appropriate and taste 
ful names upon them, so as to make them better known to 
students. For many have spent four years in College without 
visiting spots in the immediate neighborhood, which in after 
life they would think worth long journeys to see. And 
though I have now resided in Amherst nearly forty years, I 
still continue to find, within an hour s ride, spots which almost 
any where else would be regarded as of high scenographic 


In the work of imposing new names upon hills, mountains, 
gorges, rivers and bowlders, I have often called in the aid 
of the class to which I was lecturing in geology, and our 
geological excursions have often had the double object of 
studying the rocks, and by appropriate speeches and ceremo 
nies, of naming some of these objects. This would seem to 
be a very easy and pleasant undertaking ; but I have often 
found it so laborious, and encountered such malignant opposi 
tion, that I have again and again resolved at the close of our 
excursion that I would never attempt another. There is first, 
the disturbance which the absence of a class from College, 
especially if it extend beyond a day, produces, especially as I 
have always found classes disposed to make a great deal of 
noise and display at starting, by taking their vehicles to the 
College, and perhaps driving off with cheers, so that the 
other classes w r ould feel discontented to remain to be drilled 
in the recitation-room. This, of course, prejudices the Faculty 
against such excursions. Secondly, it gives an opportunity 
for the unruly members of a class, and presents a strong temp 
tation to others, to indulge in antics, and perhaps immoralities, 
such as give both the class and the College a bad name in the 
community. Thirdly, we have sometimes found strong preju 
dices in the region of the mountain or other object to be 
named, against our enterprise, as if we were intruders, and 
had no right to interfere with names that have become vener 
able by age, however absurd ; not so much, even, as to pro 
pose a change, which in fact is all we ever have done or 
could do. Fourthly, the newspapers have sometimes joined 
the popular clamor, and denounced us as unmannerly inno 
vators. Finally, the labor of preparing for such an enterprise, 
especially where new paths must be cleared out. I have 
sometimes spent nearly a week in these preparations, and the 
only reward which I would get, (except in the class,) was 
reproach and bad feeling. 

In spite of these obstacles, however, we have persisted in 
this effort up to the present time, and with marked success. 


We have named not less than nine mountains and some other 
objects, by formal excursions and set exercises, and I am con 
fident that most of the names thus imposed will be adopted by 
the public and made permanent. I propose briefly to refer to 
all these mountains and other objects, as well as to other points 
of scenographic interest around Amherst. In a few instances 
I shall propose names for spots not yet formally christened. 
The principles that have guided us in the invention of names 
will appear in some of the details that follow. It may be well, 
however, to quote in this place the following sentences from 
our Report on the Geology of Vermont, Vol. I., page 394, 
where an account is given of the naming of Eolus. " In order 
to be good, a name should be derived from one of three sources : 
1. Indian ; 2. Classical, that is, Greek or Latin, or Hebraic ; 
3. Historical. The two first are the best sources. Such a 
name should awaken no low or vulgar associations. It should 
be one that would be graceful and ennobling in poetry, and yet 
it should be easily pronounced and appreciated by all. Such 
names as Norwottuck, Nonotuck, Mettawompe, Pocomtuc, 
Rock Rimmon, Nutonk, Hygeia, and Kilburn Peak, answer 
these conditions, and have been proposed by different classes 
for different mountains. Eolus is eminently appropriate, being 
classical, poetical, euphonical, and suggestive. 


Strangers are much struck with the great beauty of a view 
from this eminence, especially if they visit it in balmy summer, 
when the atmosphere is often loaded with the fragrance of 
flowers, and the eye delighted with the fresh green of the 
mountain sides. But the variety of aspects presented by the 
landscape at different seasons of the year, and at different times 
in the day, is often very striking, and affords great enjoyment to 
those on the look out. The various fantastic shapes exhibited 
by the fog are of deep interest. Often the trees and hills 
emerge from it, and give one a good idea of the general deluge. 
I have in one or two instances seen my own figure projected 


as a huge giant upon the bank of fog, which I believe is a rare 

Of course no view from any one point at the base of the 
buildings can embrace the whole horizon. A walk along the 
south-west side of the buildings which point in that direction, 
presents the finest view, and the point along that line which is 
most attractive to my eye is on the terrace in front of the 
Appleton Cabinet. There the Holyoke range is shown in all 
its glory. 

If one wishes to get a panoramic view of the whole of the 
edifices and of the surrounding country, he must ascend either 
the tower of the Library or of the Johnson Chapel. The 
latter is the best, because the highest, and open at the top ; 
but the other forms a pleasing variety and is better for getting 
a view of the College buildings. Some think much of a view 
from the octagonal window on the second story of the vestibule 
of the Woods Cabinet, though not intended for a look out. 

The views from the East College Hill, where the last dor 
mitory building stands, are different from those that have been 
described, and quite agreeable. 

2. MOUNT DOMA. (<5w^, a dome.) 

This name I apply to a dome-shaped hill, half a mile south 
west of the Colleges, on the farm of Mr. Alfred Baker. It 
affords the best view that can be found of the edifices, all of 
which, except the Gymnasium, are in sight, and it is a view 
of their fronts. There is, however, a spot about the same dis 
tance north-east of the Colleges, at the south-west angle of 
Mr. Hill s grounds, where in the winter nearly all the build 
ings may be seen, and in addition, the new High School, 
which, with its four towers, is quite imposing in appearance. 
With the exception of Williston Hall, it is indeed a back side 
view. But this is of less consequence than might be supposed, 
and this view will probably be preferred by some to that from 
Mount Doma. This last spot has been chosen by Mr. Lincoln 
of late for a private residence, but room remains for other 


dwellings. For on all sides it affords magnificent prospects, 
and needs only money and good taste to convert into one of 
the most attractive spots in the country. 


Though this hill is but little elevated, its south end affords 
one of the most beautiful residences in the country, and is now 
and long has been the seat of a private school. The southern 
view, with the village in front, and the Mount Holyoke range, 
or rather perhaps I ought to say the Norwottuck range, peer 
ing above it with its serrated crest, is extremely picturesque. 
Norwottuck, Holyoke and Tom are all in sight, being only 
prominent points of the same trap range, and on a clear day 
the prospect down the Connecticut Valley, where Mount Tom 
seems to unite with the eastern slope of the Hoosac range of 
mountains, is superb. The Colleges are seen from Mount 
Pleasant only on their flank, yet they form very agreeable 

As a matter of taste, I have always felt disposed to find 
fault with the name of this hill, just because it seems to me 
too flat and devoid of originality. But as it cannot now be 
changed for a better, I propose to apply the same name in the 
comparative degree, to a neighboring hill which as a matter 
of fact is perhaps more elevated. 

Immediately east of Mount Pleasant is a valley not very 

deep, and east of this rises another hill having the same gen 
eral shape, and like Mount Pleasant still covered with forest. 
This last hill is three hundred and two feet above Connecticut 
River, and Mount Pleasanter, three hundred and twenty-nine 
feet. On its south slope, where an unfrequented road crosses 
it, is decidedly the best spot that I know of for getting a view 
of Amherst, of the Holyoke range and the grand cul de sac 
that extends south of Northampton. The spot is superior to 
Mount Pleasant for this view, and hence I call it Mount 


Pleasanter. It is perhaps the best place left near the centre 
of Amherst for a private residence or a public institution, 
unless the more panoramic view from Mount Doma should 
form a stronger attraction. I trust that the present proprietor 
of Mount Pleasanter (Mr. Dickinson) will never suffer the 
grove that now covers it to be cut down, and thus take away 
not only half its pecuniary value but much of its scenographic 

This is the spot of all others to which the citizens of 
Amherst should take strangers if they would give them a fair 
view of the scenery of the town. 


Immediately west of College Hill is a north and south 
valley extending through the town, and probably in ancient 
times a bed of Connecticut River. On the west side of this 
valley, opposite the Colleges, is a gradual rise which spreads 
out into a sort of plateau, and still farther west the land rises 
into Mount Warner. Along the plateau runs the old road to 
Hadley, and looking easterly we have a very fine view of 
Amherst West Parish with the Colleges. As it is only two 
miles west of the village it makes a pleasant drive for the 
visitor who would look at our fine scenery from different points. 
I have called this swell of land the Occident simply because it 
lies west of the Colleges. 


Continuing gradually to ascend, west and north-west from 
the Occident, we reach the rocky elevation called Mount 
Warner, in Hadley, and not far from the east bank of Con 
necticut River, and perhaps somewhat over three hundred 
feet above the river. Rising thus in one of the richest and 
most romantic parts of the valley, it presents a panorama of 
unsurpassed loveliness. The north end of the hill is, indeed, 
yet covered with woods, and therefore the view in that direc 
tion the least important quarter is obstructed. But on the 


east and south-east you have Amherst and Belchertown, and 
the Pelham Hills; on the south, the Holyoke and Tom 
Range; on the south-west, Northampton and Easthampton, 
and Hadley, with their rich surrounding meadows; on the 
west, close beneath you, lies quiet Hatfield, and a little farther 
north, the village of Whately ; and behind them both rise the 
hills that make the eastern border of the Hoosac Range. 
Directly beneath you flows the beautiful Connecticut, visible 
northerly, in a straight line, almost up to Sugar-Loaf, in Deer- 
field, rising as nature s buttress to cut off the view in that 
direction, while to the south, the river forms many wide and 
graceful curves, and finally disappears between Holyoke and 
Tom. In fine, the view from this summit is in some respects 
more complete than from Holyoke or Nonotuck, and were it 
only more difficult of access, it would be a place of great resort. 
But now it is rarely visited. It is strange to me that the 
people of Amherst, especially, take so little interest in this 
spot, when a good road, only three miles long, brings them near 
the summit ; and it would require but a slight amount of labor 
to open a carriage road to the top. Indeed, one already 
exists, but is fenced up. 


The proper way to visit this spot is to go to that village in 
North Amherst called the City, and from thence to follow 
down a small stream westerly. For a mile or two it has 
formed a romantic gorge, along which the road has been cut. 
At length the stream seems to terminate in a beautiful pond, 
covering a few acres, and surrounded by high and steep hills 
on every side but the west, where an opening appears between 
two gigantic buttresses of granite ; and if we reach the spot 
just before sunset, in a clear and quiet day, the pond, the 
opening and the region to the west far off seems full of golden 
glory. Hence the name I propose. The fact is, the stream 
passes through this gate, across which an artificial dam has 
been built for supplying a factory village below with water- 


power. The view of the fall below, looking easterly, is not 
without interest. But standing back of the full and looking 
through the gate westerly, under the circumstances just 
specified, it is far more striking. 


If we ascend the hill curving around the north end of the 
pond above described, we shall find it an extraordinary struc 
ture. Though sixty or seventy feet high, and apparently 
composed essentially of sand and gravel, its sides are almost 
too steep for ascending. If we wind our way along its inside 
we see nothing but the pond on our right, but on reaching the 
crest we find ourselves upon a ridge only four or five rods 
wide, curving around the pond and disclosing a splendid pano 
rama of the Connecticut Valley, especially of North Amherst, 
Mount Warner, the Holyoke range, and in close proximity, 
Mount Taurus and Mettawompe on the north. Such an 
unexpected development, with such a beautiful sheet of water 
embosomed within, and so singular a geological formation 
beneath our feet, makes this a most attractive spot ; and yet, 
so little celebrated has it been in Amherst, that I had lived 
thirty-six years in the town before I heard of it. 

This ridge goes frequently by the name of Pulpit Hill. 
But such a name could never be introduced into poetry, and 
besides, if this were a pulpit, there is no place for the preacher 
to stand but in the water, which might indeed not unaptly 
represent the condition of many ministers, if the lake were 
thermal. But we propose a name which avoids such unpleas 
ant associations. 


We pass now a mile south of the Colleges on the road 
to the South Parish, and half a mile before reaching the 
South Church we find on our left a small, rounded eminence, 
which is cleared and opens from its top one of the most lovely 
panoramas which nature has formed. All around vou is a 


cleared valley and beyond this rises a wall of beautiful moun 
tains ; on the east the Pelham Hills, on the south Norwottuck 
and Holyoke, on the west the Hoosac ridges, and on the north 
Mettawompe, Mount Taurus, Sugar-Loaf, and far off in the 
north-west some of the peaks of the Green Mountains. The 
immediate vicinity is full of villages and cultivated fields, and 
on the north the Colleges loom up finely. To look off from 
such an eminence would be an ample reward for a day s jour 
ney ; and yet, I lived thirty-four years within two miles of the 
spot and did not hear of it, and though passing it frequently, 
I did not think it worth visiting. Such indifference to spots 
so beautiful is not to be imputed to a want of intelligence and 
taste in the community, but simply because they are so numer 
ous, or rather there are so many other spots in the region 
which have so much higher reputation as to cause these to be 

This eminence is composed entirely of gravel, the rounded 
fragments being sometimes nearly a foot in diameter. How 
they were piled up in this dome-like form to the height of 
200 or 300 feet is one of the most difficult problems to solve 
in all geology. I know of no solution that approximates to 
probability save that which supposes the whole region to have 
been once filled with the same materials to the same height, 
and that they were subsequently removed by aqueous agency 
from the present depressions. 


Nearly a mile south of Castor is another rounded gravelly 
hill of the same shape, and though a little higher, perhaps, 
and the materials a little coarser, the two hills are so nearly 
twins that the names, Castor and Pollux the mythological 
twins was suggested as soon as I had visited .them. I think 
the panorama rather the finest around Castor, because you 
seem there nearer the centre of the circle and are nearer to 
the College and the villages. Yet the proximity of Pollux to 
Norwottuck produces an agreeable effect on the beholder. 


Thus far, with the exception of Mount Warner, all the hills 
we have described are composed of modified drift, that is, 
gravel and sand, and of course are not of much height, nor 
very far distant from the College. We now extend our views 
to a wider circle, embracing the rocky ranges that surround 


So extensively known is this eminence, and so often has it 
been described, that any new attempt of this sort is unneces 
sary. So far as I recollect, however, the building of a road 
along the western face of the ledges was the first of those 
mountain excursions that have since been so common from 
the College, and therefore some description of the occasion 
may be desirable. 

The history of this eifort is as follows : Formerly the only 
foot-path up the side of the mountain passed almost at right 
angles to the side and was very steep and rough. In the 
autumn of 1844 I happened to be in the woods near where 
this foot-path terminated, studying a large trap bowlder lying 
there as late as November. Supposing the period of visiting 
the moTmtain to be past, I was greatly surprised to find a 
fleshy gentleman working his way from the top down the 
foot-path, and as he reached the bottom he complained bitterly 
of the rough road, and his torn garments bore testimony to 
the severity of his scramble. I found him to be a foreigner, 
from the West Indies I thought. Looking up to the almost 
perpendicular side of the mountain a new thought struck me 
and I said, "I believe I could make a path obliquely along 
that mountain which should be easy of ascent." "Well," 
said the gentleman, " you Yankees can do almost any thing, 
but I do not believe you can make a road there." The next 
season, however, I made a reconnoissance and satisfied myself 
that the work was feasible, though difficult. On stating my 
plan to Miss Lyon, Principal of Ilolyoke Female Seminary, 
she offered to meet us at twelve o clock, at the foot of the 
mountain, with a dinner provided by her pupils, after we had 


completed the road. Under such circumstances it was not 
difficult to awaken the enthusiasm of my geological then, I 
believe, the Senior Class. But fearful that the work would 
prove too much for them, we extended an invitation to the 
junior class to join us, and it was accepted. We also, through 
the newspapers, invited the citizens who live around the 
mountain to meet us with axe and spade in hand. But just 
before the appointed day, which was the 4th of July, 1845, 
we learnt that though they were quite friendly to the enter 
prise, they did not care to take hold of it, because instead of 
one-half day, it would, in their opinion, require a fortnight of 
labor, and they did not like to fail and be laughed at. Neither 
did we. When the morning came I told the classes that we 
must either make that path before noon or expect to be ridi 
culed. Out of my scanty stock of Greek I also quoted a few 
lines from Hesiod, as a motto for the day : 

Oj K fpyov ftfhTwv tOnv aviate V^auvoi 
i iraKTaivuv s 

(Who mindful of his work, draws a strait furrow : nor looks 
around among his companions, but keeps his mind upon his work.) 

We were promptly on the ground, and never did I see a 
body of men go into any enterprise with such a will and with 
better success. Before eleven o clock the road was so far 
opened that a gentleman rode horseback over it, and by twelve 
o clock the young men had the work finished and had made 
their toilet as well as they could with nothing but rocks for a 
mirror, and were ready to descend and meet the Holyoke 
ladies with their dinner ready by the welcome spring. This 
disposed of, the whole party ascended the mountain where 
several gentlemen made addresses and toasts were offered. 
Some of these I will copy as a sample of the style of these 
mountain addresses. 

" Prof. Shepard congratulated the Senior Class of Amherst College, 
on the successful achievement of cutting a horse-path to the summit 


of Mt. Holyoke ; and entertained no doubt but that the exploit woittd 
keep the memory of the class fresh in the public mind, until they 
should be able to work out for themselves, at no distant day, more 
distinguished roads in the wide theatre of the world, upon which they 
are just about to enter. In this severer struggle which awaited them, 
he hoped they would, as now, be aided by the assistance of Junior 
companions, and cheered by the approval of the fair. 

He would not be understood, however, as undervaluing the pres 
ent exploit. On the contrary, he did not hesitate to compare it to 
Napoleon s great road across the Alps. For although the Simplon 
way was longer, in roods, and consequently in the time of its con 
struction, yet when we look at the objects aimed at in the two works, 
the speaker was of opinion that there was more to be proud of in the 
Mt. Holyoke road than in that of the Alps. 

"The French chieftain, (he said,) by his work sought only a speedy 
transit for the myrmidons of war, and their fell machines of death, 
wherewith he might go thundering down upon the peaceful vales of 
Italy, while you aspire to a more beneficent result you aim to 
smooth some of those asperities with which this proud eminence has 
heretofore surrounded herself, whereby she has repulsed the approach 
of all who were not possessed of leisure and strength, and to throw 
open the pleasures of the scene to troops of grateful persons, who 
else would forever be debarred the rich feast of which we now par 
take. Henceforth, with showers of blessings on your heads, will 
ascend to this most commanding eyrie of the Connecticut Valley, the 
hurried traveller, the wan invalid, prattling childhood, and even hoary 
age ; while maiden beauty, no more toiling over uncertain foot-paths, 
and up steep acclivities, will with flowing robe, and plumed hat, be 
attended hither by gallant knight on prancing steed. 

44 Prof. Shepard then adverted to some of the changes which have 
transpired in the surrounding scenery, and industry of the people, 
during the past twenty years. But what struck him with the most 
astonishment, was to discover that even the old Connecticut herself, 
which for ages had held on the even tenor of her way, had seemingly 
caught the spirit of improvement, and of her own accord ceased to 
flow round the Ox-bow, as when he last looked down upon her, and 
now hastens her waters forward to the sea, in one hour less of time 
each day, than she was wont to do before relinquishing her ancient 
bed for the benefit of a railroad company ! Who shall say, (he 
asked,) what is destined to transpire during the coming year, when 
the naiads of that stream, as it courses the luxuriant meadows of 
lladley and Northampton, shall hear for the first time the harsh 


clattering of the locomotive, or its more piercing whistle, warning all 
travellers to stop ? 

"What would be the astonishment, (he inquired,) of some of our 
good ancestors of the last century, could they revisit for a moment 
the scene before us! Why, in 1738, in place of the roads which at 
present are everywhere so abundant in the Connecticut Valley, that 
their very number bewilders the traveller, they had scarce any other 
highway, than the now almost neglected bosom of the Connecticut 
herself 1 What would that reverend patriarch, Peter Powers, the first 
pastor of the church of Haverhill, N. H., think, who made his paro 
chial visits and journeys in his canoe ; and who for want of roads, 
had to go over to Hollis to get a council to ordain him, and then to 
row himself back, and preach his own ordination sermon ! Whatever 
might have been the grievances between pastor and people in those 
heroic days, there was a better chance than at present for keeping up 
their connections with each other, since no roads existed for dismiss 
ing councils to come in upon ; and if a clergyman could preach his 
own ordination sermon, he also had an opportunity of using his own 
discretion in the matter of dismissing himself. 

"How strange too was the dilemma in which betrothed lovers were 
placed in those days, who, living near the river-bank, were forced to 
watch the passing canoe, in order to get therefrom a clergyman to tie 
the marriage knot ! It is related of the same patriarch, that as he was 
passing by the town of Hanover, (twenty- seven miles below his own 
place,) he was hailed from the river-bank by a messenger put there 
for the special purpose, to know when he would be ascending the 
river, and whether he would stop and marry Mr. Walbridge to 
Hannah Smith, a proposition to which he readily agreed ; and when 
the appointed day and hour arrived, true as a railroad train in these 
days, the parson had paddled himself back to Hanover, and was 
ready to perform the welcome ceremony. 

He spoke of the great increase, within twenty years, of the broom- 
corn culture, eulogized the new staple, and in particular the broom 
itself. He related the following anecdote respecting the enterprise of 
the inhabitants of Hadley. Some years ago, soon after Rev. Mr. 
Adam, who was a Scottish clergyman, had been settled at Amherst, 
he took a ride over to Hadley, and there meeting a man just setting 
off with a load of brooms, he had the curiosity to ask him what those 
commodities were in his cart, for Mr. Adam was quite ignorant of 
the broom, having passed much of his life as a missionary at Benares, 
in Hindostan. The honest farmer, as may easily be supposed, gave 
him a stare of the profoundest curiosity at his question, following it 


immediately by the inquiry, Where are you from, that you never 
saw a Hadley broom ? The Scotchman, with characteristic brevity, 
replied, I have been living at Benares. Benares, exclaimed the 
interested farmer, where is Benares ? tell me sir, if you please ; for 
it must be an excellent place to take my brooms. 

"He also thought that the Amherst students had succeeded by their 
labors of this day, in recommending themselves to these practical 
personages across the ridge. If the young ladies take a pride in 
wielding the broom, it is certainly fitting that the collegians should 
not forget the use of the crowbar, the axe and the spade. And while 
he desired for both parties every attainable refinement of feeling, and 
of manners, he still hoped that both would continue to cherish a 
proper regard for these homely, though useful instruments of life. 
And although in the onward career of taste, it may yet occur that the 
lofty roof of the Mt. Holyoke Seminary, (already the most splendid 
edifice of the kind in America,) should be studded over with trophies 
of art though the statues of the graces and the sacred nine should 
uprise from that high over-looking platform, although the huntress 
Dian, the silver-shafted queen, with her dread bow, or Minerva, 

4 With snaky-headed Gorgon shield, 
Wherewith she froze her foes to stone, 
Whose noble grace dashed brute violence 
With sudden admiration and blank awe 

should these, and more, from the Sculptor s hand adorn the site, ho 
still hoped that some native Foicers or Greenovgh would give us in 
polished marble, for the most commanding pedestal, the maid of the 
Connecticut, who, while she might outvie Juno s self by her accent, 
lofty and elated mien, would still grasp in one hand the tidy, industrial 
emblem of the broom not to proclaim, indeed, as did the proud duke 
of Danville, when with a broom at his mast-head, one hundred years 
ago, he crossed the ocean with a powerful fleet against these colonies, 
that the land should be swept with the besom of destruction, but 
simply to denote that industry, neatness and order, are the law of the 

" Prof. Fiske, who was perfectly acquainted with the history of the 
Connecticut Valley, entertained the company with lively sketches of 
scenes which had taken place in it at various periods. He spoke of 
the Valley as it was in the time of the landing from the Mayflower, 
with its two patches of cleared ground of the scene at Bloody 
Brook, at Hadley, &c. His address was full of interest and instruc 
tion, transporting his hearers back to other times, and reminding them 


of another race which then inhabited this beautiful Valley, and other 
scenes quite unlike those which are now occurring." 
"Dr. Hitchcock spoke nearly as follows : 

" Some scenes in one s experience have so much of romance in 
them, that we never could be made to believe beforehand they would 
ever occur. To be called to address an audience on the top of IIol- 
yoke, and among them one hundred and fifty ladies, seems in my 
history more like a dream than a reality. Yet, if it be a dream, it is 
a very pleasant one. With such a scene to stimulate me, ladies and 
gentlemen, you may expect a labored and finished address from me, 
announced as it was unfortunately and without my knowledge in the 
papers ; but I assure you that I shall only make a few plain sugges 
tions, respecting the formation of the broad Valley that lies spread out 
beneath us, in almost unearthly beauty. I mean its geological forma 
tion. I have been for many years looking at the geological structure 
of my native Valley, and have come to certain conclusions respecting 
the manner in which it was originally formed and has been subse 
quently modified. 

" He then went on to describe the five great steps in the formation 
of the Valley telling how in the far-off time, when no valley existed, 
the primary strata were broken down by lateral pressure ; how the 
ocean rushed in across Connecticut and Massachusetts ; and how, at 
the close of this period, the Creator enlivened the barren shores with 
animal and vegetable life. 

" He told how, in the second place, the action of rivers upon its 
sides filled up the estuary as high as the level of Sugar-Loaf and Mt. 
Toby, with a deposit of sandstone, in the lower beds of which there 
are no evidences of life, but in the upper are found fishes, and numer 
ous tracks of birds and quadrupeds, with land plants. 

"The third important change, he said, was produced by volcanic 
action ; by this Mts. Holyoke and Tom, and the other trap ranges 
were produced ; the strata of sandstone were also tilted up, as the 
tracks show, and a breach was made for the Connecticut between Mt. 
Holyoke and Tom. The action of water produced the fourth great 
modification of the Valley. This removed a large part of the sand 
stone, leaving the green-stone, because too hard to be acted upon by 
the water. The ocean first wearing back to Sugar-Loaf and Mt. Toby, 
then the diluvial agency sweeping on the detritus southerly, in scoop 
ing out the valleys upon Holyoke and Tom. Then the Valley being 
mostly above the ocean, a series of lakes would be formed ; and he 
explained how the Connecticut was formed, filling up and draining off, 
until it assumed its present level. And finally, continued the Pres- 


ident, the latest geological agency that has operated on the Valley of 
the Connecticut, is the united physical forces of the Senior and Junior 
classes of Amhcrst College. This is undoubtedly a new force in 
geological dynamics, and all visitors to Holyoke will hereafter see 
that it is a very powerful force. Geologists will undoubtedly intro 
duce it into their future works, as a most important agency in produc 
ing erosions, (in vulgar language called horse-paths,) on the sides of 
mountains. It will probably constitute a new branch of geotogy, for 
which I propose the name of Holyoponics, which I translate to be the 
" Science of building a road up Mt. Holyolte for ponies." 

"After the entertainment which was prepared by the ladies of 
South Hadley Female Seminary, many sentiments were proposed, 
which we have not room to give." 

If we follow the crest of Holyoke southerly from the pros 
pect house, we shall find it extremely rougli and irregular, 
with no footpath to guide us. But occasionally unique and 
fine views will open southerly and westerly, and especially one 
attracted our attention when we look out southerly from 
between two ledges half a mile or more south of the house. 
Here, if we can work our way down the almost perpendicular 
west face of the mountain, we shall find some peculiar phe 
nomena well worthy the attention of visitors, yet but little 


I refer to an arrangement of the trap into columns standing 
nearly perpendicular with the lower part of some of the outer 
rows worn away and strewed in a steep talus below, while 
the upper parts of the columns at the lower end are worn into 
the shape of a paraboloid, or even have become lenticular, so 
that you seem to stand beneath a projecting mass of hexagonal 
iron kettles forming the roof of a piazza. The appearance 
extends for several rods along the cliff, and so far as I know, 
is unique among the phenomena of trap-rocks. It is best 
reached by ascending from the west side over the loose 



Following the west face of the ridge southerly, about half a 
mile, we come to where it passes under Connecticut River. 
Here are precipices from twenty to fifty feet high, of naked 
rock, showing an imperfect columnar structure. This I call 
Titan s Pier. Where the tops of the columns are broken 
off they are more perfect than I have elsewhere seen in the 
Connecticut Valley, and smaller too, bearing a nearer resem 
blance to those at the Giant s Causeway. 


A few rods west of the public road, where it passes through 
a deep cut in the rock that forms the most southern spur of 
Titan s Pier, is a beautiful amphitheatre, surrounded on all 
sides by walls of trap, except towards the south-west, where it 
opens upon the Connecticut, and is only a few feet above it, 
forming one of the most delightful dells that I ever saw. 
Thousands of people might here be arranged within sound of 
a speaker s voice, so that no place could be more eligible for 
Sabbath school gatherings, picnics, political meetings, &c. 
With a few canoes in front, delightful sails could be had upon 
the smooth Connecticut. On the east side issues a good 
spring, and I have usually made this spot a stopping place for 
a lunch on geological excursions with classes. Hence the 
name which I propose for it. 


The next year (1846,) after we had made the road up 
Holyoke, another fourth of July excursion was got up to 
impose a name upon the highest point in the Holyoke Range, 
several miles to the east, and about a mile east of the road 
from Amherst to Granby and South Hadley, through the 
Notch. A very good report of the ceremonies and the 
speeches on that occasion, appeared in the " Hampshire and 
Franklin Express," a part of which I copy : 


" About eleven o clock, some five hundred persons had collected, 
and after being seated upon the rocks, or wherever a convenient 
place could be found, Mr. Leonard Humphrey, of the Senior Class, 
president of the day, addressed them nearly as follows : 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, A custom venerable by its age has 
secured to the discoverer and the conqueror the right of giving 
name to the territory he has preoccupied or subdued. By virtue 
of this usage, the Senior Class of Amherst College claim such a 
right over this majestic mountain. We may not be allowed to base 
our claim upon discovery, but, surely, we may upon conquest. Is 
proof wanted? "We point to the track of the army with all its 
marks of conquering and resistless progress ; to the bowlder tribes, 
even routed from their strongholds, and skulking in terror by the 
wayside ; to these gashed and mangled limbs : these headless and 
prostrate trunks ; all these are witnesses for us that our foot and 
the axe of the conqueror have been here. But apart from the ques 
tion of our lawful right by established usage, we know of no cause 
in justice why this should not be crowned with title and glory like 
earth s other giants. Is it too humble in stature, towering as it does, 
1,120 feet above old stormy Neptune, 1,026 feet above the tranquil 
Connecticut, and not less than 100 feet above its proud sister Hol- 
yokc, whose fame has encircled half the globe ? With such com 
manding height, with an ascent on either side so comparatively easy, 
to a summit girt with such varied magnificence, no reason can be 
given why this noble mountain has been unknown to fame, save 
that which must account for the strange caprice with which the 
world has always treated greatness, and for its present stubborn 
neglect of half the great men and things it contains. 

" We have been peculiarly fortunate, we think, in discovering an 
appropriate name, through the generous assistance of Dr. Hitchcock 
and one or two gentlemen of Deerfield. There is good authority to 
believe, from records of the General Court in 1G53, and other authen 
tic sources, that the name we have chosen is the old Indian name of 
lladley, which then embraced what is now called Hadley, Amherst, 
Granby, South Hadley, Sunderland, Hatfield and Whately, and of 
course included this entire range of mountains. 

" In view of these facts, it must appear especially fit to all who 
find pleasure in Indian memories, that the red man s name for this 
whole chain be now re-assumed by this noblest mountain, the Prince 
of the range. And therefore, on t\\\$ fourth day of July, when our 
fathers asserted claims bolder and more momentous than this moun 
tain s to its rightful appellation, in the name and by the authority 


of the Senior Class of 184(5, in Amhcrst College, I now denominate 
this commanding summit Mount NOKWOTTUCK. 

"Three hearty cheers were given for Norwottuck, a flag bearing 
that name was run up above the platform, after which the company 
retired to a grove just east of the summit, where they were favored 
with an address from President Hitchcock. 

"He commenced by observing that when a year ago he addressed 
some of those present from Holyoke, he remarked that the scene 
seemed to him more like a dream than the reality. Had any one then 
said to him, you will next year speak to us from the top of Mount 
Norwottuck, which is nearly 200 feet higher than Holyoke, he should 
have been still more incredulous, since none of us then knew this 
spot as an object of interest. Yet even such a prophecy has become 
a pleasant reality unless indeed we are in a mesmeric state. And 
in fact, he was not quite sure but that some hallucination of this sort 
was now upon him ; for as he had visited this spot from time to time, 
during the last few weeks, he had been led to compare it with other 
conspicuous eminences, long known in other parts of the world so 
that as he took hold of specimens of rocks from those other places, 
in the College Cabinet, he seemed to be transported to them, and to 
be looking over the scenery around them, and contemplating the 
condition of those who dwell there. He had brought along some 
of these specimens, and as he grasped them he trusted he should be 
thrown into a mesmeric state, and would state to the company what 
he saw. 

" 1. He would follow the fashion of the day, and take his first trip 
to Oregon. The specimen he held in his hand, brought him at once 
to the top of a- volcanic mountain on the banks of the Columbia. 
He looks around him, and after describing some of the basaltic walls, 
and fearful cataracts, and mountain scenery, inquires whether all i 
neace among these mountains ? 

4 Do love and mercy haunt that sunny glade, 
And sweetly rest upon that lonely shore, 
^Vhen light retires and nature smiles no more? 
No; there at midnight the hoarse panther growls; 
There the gaunt wolf sits on his rock and howls, 
And there, in painted pomp, the yelling Indian prowls. 

" 2. This second specimen takes him to China, where he sat upon 
a fine hill of granite that overlooks the city of Canton, and what 
a dense mass of living beings on the land and on the water was 
beneath his eye, and the country is labelled the Celestial Empire. 


But its pollution, its idolatry and degradation prove it rather an 
infernal empire, and he hastened onward. 

"3. The next specimen conducted him to Ceylon; and when he 
saw thousands gathering peals from the ocean, and others gems 
from the rocks, while his senses were greeted by aromatic odors 
from cinnamon groves, he fancied himself in a paradise. But 

1 What though the spicy breezes 
Blow soft o er Ceylon s isle, 
Though every prospect pleases, 
And only man is vile ! 
In vain with lavish kindness 
The gifts of God are strown, 
The heathen in his blindness 
Bows down to wood and stone. 

" Ah ! how different from the Valley of the Connecticut ! 

"4. The next specimen of granite conducted him to a strange region, 
almost out of the world. He stands upon an elevated mountain 
the sun has disappeared, and yet it is not darkness. For at a dis 
tance stands a mountain of 12,000 feet high, pouring forth flames 
which light up the vast sea of ice that covers the entire surface, save 
here and there some naked rock shooting up into the heavens. He 
was in a region of perpetual winter he stood upon the Antarctic 

"5. But the next specimen conducts him to a more sunny spot. 
He is looking off from Table Rock at the Cape of Good Hope, and 
as he looks southward into the bay, the prospect is most imposing, 
and he seems to feel that he must remain there long to enjoy it, 
But he turns northward, and oh! what a region of desolation, 
natural, social and moral, opens before him into the deserts of South 
Africa ! He sees man there sunk to his lowest level he hears the 
hyena s growl and the lion s roar, and he gladly plumes his wings 
for the sunny islands of the Pacific. 

" (5. This specimen brings him to the margin of the great volcano 
of Kilauea, the most remarkable on the globe. He looks down into 
a gulf fifteen hundred feet deep, and seven or eight miles in circum 
ference, which is a boiling cauldron of melted matter an ocean of 
fire dashing its angry waves from side to side, and sending forth 
unearthly bellowings. The scene is indeed sublime and awful 
beyond description. But the tired eye would gladly be able to turn 
from it, and repose upon the green fields and smiling villages of 


"7. This specimen of lava carries him back to the top of Ararat in 
Armenia, which tradition says was the stepping-stone of the patri 
arch from the antediluvian into the postdiluvian world, and is 
eighteen thousand feet high. But think of the literary, social and 
moral condition of the inhabitants occupying the region around, and 
how will the heart flee back to the Valley of the Connecticut. 

"8. This specimen brings him to the top of the great pyramid of 
Egypt, five hundred feet high. Though he sees the fertile Valley of 
the Nile, and other great natural advantages, yet Egypt is the 
4 basest of kingdoms. 

"9. The next specimen leads him to a holier place the Mount of 
Olives. To the west lies Jerusalem the Valley of Jehosaphat and 
Kidron, and the Pool of Siloam, encircle the city ; on the east is the 
Dead Sea ; to the north is Gibeah and Ramah and Bethel ; to the 
south Bethlehem and Bethany. In short the whole country is cov 
ered over with sacred mementoes. But alas ! what moral and social 
degradation. How different from this Valley ! 

" 10. This specimen conducts him to a loftier and scarcely less 
holy place, Mount Lebanon, ten thousand feet high. Much of the 
natural scenery around is beautiful and grand. But what a horrible 
state of society Druse and Maronite fighting, and the Turkish 
scimitar and bow-string coming in to decide the strife. 

" 11. This specimen conducts him to Mount Olympus in Asia 
Minor, nine thousand feet high. North is the sea of Marmora, and 
beyond the sea of Dardanelles, with Constantinople on the western 
shore. It is the centre of the ancient world, but oh! how degraded! 

" 12. This specimen reminded him that he must stop a moment at 
the crater of volcanic Vesuvius. And here we have a striking con 
trast. Before us is the deep opening into the mountain from which 
smoke and flames and lava are issuing. But on the north are the 
bay and city of Naples, and on the right stretches away towards the 
north-west the noble Appenines. But in the same direction lies 
Rome a name that reveals to a Protestant soul every thing that is 
repulsive in a religion that has sacrificed already by the sword of 
persecution not less than fifty million Protestants. In contemplating 
such horrors he forgets the splendid scenery around him, and hastens 
to another spot. 

" 13. He now stands on still more classic soil. This specimen 
brings him to Mars Hill in Athens. And here how can the scholar 
avoid musing for a time. Greece is still beautiful in her natural 
scenery as when her immortal poets sung, and her orators declaimed, 
and her philosophers lectured in the Academy. But alas ! deep 


ignorance broods over the land, and a bigoted religion is at this 
moment persecuting one of the most humble and devoted men, Dr. 
King. Aptly has Byron described the condition of Greece : 

So coldly sweet, so deadly fair, 
We start, for soul is wanting there ! 
Here is the loveliness in death, 
That parts not quite with parting breath ; 
Expression s last receding ray, 
A gilded halo hovering round decay; 
The farewell beam of feeling past away 
Spark of that flame, perchance of heavenly birth, 
Which gleams, but warms no more its cherished earth. 

" 14. This specimen carries him to the top of St. Gothard, one 
of the lower summits of the Alps. Above is Mt. Blanc, with its 
eternal glaziers; below are the beautiful Valleys of Switzerland, and 
when he looks down on the Valley of the Rhine he sees scenery that 
will compare in beauty with that of Norwottuck. But when he looked 
over to France on the west, to Italy on the south, to Austria on the 
east, and Germany on the north, and compared their degraded polit 
ical and religious condition with that of New England, he was glad 
to hasten back to his native Valley. 

" 15. Yet number fifteen takes him to a spot which seems more 
like New England than any he had yet lighted upon. He was 
looking down from one of the peaks of England upon scenery of 
great richness, and upon a people whose general character and con 
dition in most respects compare favorably with those of our country. 
And yet his republican eye is not pleased with so many palaces, and 
liveried servants, and other marks of aristocracy among the higher 
classes, and of ignorance and deep degradation among the lower 
classes; and he gladly turns his thoughts to the freedom and equality, 
the intelligence, morality and religion of this Puritan land. 

" 1C. But the next specimen reminds him that he must linger a 
moment or two on the shores of Ireland, and look at the Giant s 
Causeway, whence it came. And although the scenery there much 
resembles that on Norwottuck, especially at Titan s Piazza and 
Titan s Pier, yet he will confess it more striking on the Irish shore. 
But when he looks over her surface and sees so many marks of the 
Beast, and of deep poverty, ignorance and degradation, he envies 
not her basaltic scenery. 

" 17. He would now return to the United States. But this speci 
men induces him to stop a moment on the bleak shores of Iceland. 
The scenery has in it all the wildness that volcanic desolation can 


give it, and the people are honest, intelligent and religious. But the 
soil is too sterile, and the climate too glacial, to bear such fruits as 
grow in the happy Valley of the Connecticut River. 

" 18. This specimen, taken from the top of Mount Washington, 
tells him that he must not pass the White Hills without stopping; 
and the panorama that opens from this highest point in the northern 
part of America, is indeed magnificent beyond description. It is 
also in free and happy New England. But he did not see around 
him the smiling, cultivated fields, and happy villages that encircle 
Norwottuck. In short, though we find elsewhere wilder prospects, 
and scenery more magnificent, yet taken in connection with the 
civil, social, literary, moral, and religious condition of the surround 
ing region, we receive nowhere such unmixed gratification as upon 
this highest point of the Holyoke range. He would, therefore, wake 
from his mesmeric trance, and return joyfully from his long tour, to 
enjoy with those present the prospect around, and to bless God that 
the lines have fallen to us in such pleasant places, and that we have 
so goodly a heritage. Take it all in all, it is not vanity to place it 
very high among the interesting eminences from which he had exhib 
ited specimens. All of them must do homage to this mountain, and 
he held a fragment from each of them in his hand, which he now 
scattered on this height, as the tribute which they pay to Norwot- 

" The President concluded with this sentiment : 

"Mount Norwottuck. Hitherto it has been a wall of separation 
between two literary Institutions. To-day it is a point of union. 
Let it ever be an object of deep interest by them both ! " 

To make the road to this spot cost myself, the Class, and 
many of the citizens of South Amherst, several days work, 
and we finally made it so that carriages could reach the 
summit. It is not much visited now, chiefly because there 
are so many points along the range and on other sides of 
Amherst that are very attractive, and most of them of rather 
easier access. 

In constructing the road we routed two or three rattle 
snakes. Said a man to me who resides at the foot of the 
mountain, " Oh, how fortunate you were ; I have now lived 
here forty years, and all that time have been anxious to meet 
a rattlesnake, but have never found one." Probably he 


wished to obtain some rattlesnake oil, which is reputed to have 
wonderful virtues, or lie wanted to bite through the snake 
once or twice, which is said to be a specific against toothache. 
We did not try the experiment. 

I once met with a rattlesnake on the crest of Holyoke, a 
quarter of a mile south of the Prospect House. I had 
mounted a bowlder and called the class around me to examine 
it, when some one cried out, " there is a rattlesnake ; " and 
indeed a coiled specimen lay within the circle of students. 
He made no attempt to injure us, but I am afraid we did not 
act as generously towards him. 


According to my recollection, our next effort in the way 
of christening mountains was an attempt to fix a new name to 
a mountain in Sunderland, whose principal summit had borne 
the name of Toby. As this was one of our most laborious 
efforts and drew upon us a good deal of odium, I shall give 
the details as they appeared in the newspapers, also certain 
papers, some of which were never published, bringing out the 
principles which have guided us in these efforts. 

It may be desirable to say that this mountain, most of which 
lies in Sunderland, consists of two parts, the highest and most 
massive part being Toby, and the southern part, separated 
from Toby by a valley, and called Bull Hill. It was Toby 
proper to which the class directed their attention, although 
Bull Hill, as we shall see, was taken in hand at a later date. 
The following brief history of the christening of Mettawompe 
was printed in the " Express " of June 22d, 1849 : 

The ceremony was commenced by the Chairman of the Committee 
of the Class, Edward Hitchcock, Jr., who announced briefly the 
reasons for proposing a change of name, and then proclaimed the new 
one. A copy of this paper we have obtained and insert. 

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN: Distinguished individuals, and emi 
nent associations of men, when they arc about to perform an act that 
will operate powerfully upon the fortunes of the world, are in the 
habit of briefly setting forth their reasons. 


"In accordance with this usage, the Senior Class of Amherst Col 
lege, now that they are about to attempt imposing a new name upon 
this mountain, an act which will have so important an influence 
upon this Valley, would propose to this assembly their reasons for 
this transaction. 

"We propose a new name, in the first place, for the sake of good 
taste. A splendid mountain like this deserves a splendid name ; a 
classical and euphonical name, not a common or vulgar one ; a name 
that will look well and sound well in poetry, books of travel and 
history. For this reason alone, we hope that the citizens of this 
Valley will consent to let the name of Toby go into oblivion, if we 
propose a better one ; for we believe those citizens to possess an unu 
sual share of correct taste. 

" Secondly, we name it by right of conquest. The prostrated 
bushes and trees, the torn up bowlders, and the open pathway, show 
how that conquest was achieved ; and we claim that never before 
could the beauties of this landscape be seen but with difficulty, espe 
cially by the fairer portion of creation. To give a new name, we 
think a quite moderate exercise of the rights which such battles and 
such victories confer upon the conqueror. 

" Thirdly, we do it for the sake of the literary institutions around 
this mountain ; we confidently expect, that ere many years have 
passed, some splendid poems will issue from these institutions. But 
no poet would dare to write a poem, if he must introduce into it the 
name of Toby. It would kill the finest epic in the world. 

" Finally, w r e wish to change the name in order to do justice to the 
original owners of this mountain. Here is the first deed of this 
mountain, or rather of most of Sunderland, Leverett, Montague and 
Shutesbury, by several Indian Chiefs and one Squaw, and especially 
by one Sachem, who speaks in the name of the rest. He sold the 
whole for eighty fathoms of wampum ; and probably there is not one 
man in a thousand in this Valley who ever heard of him. Some young 
gentlemen in Sunderland, a few years ago, did indeed attempt to 
rescue his name from oblivion, in a periodical which they published 
for a short time, which is now before you. But his name ought long 
ago to have been attached to this mountain, where we doubt not he 
hunted a thousand times. And this act of justice, though tardy, is 
what we propose to do to-day. His name, although of the purest 
Indian, is easily spelt and pronounced, and euphonious in either 
prose or poetry. It is METTAWOMPE, and by the Senior Class of 1849, 
in Amherst College, the name Mettawompe is hereby affixed to this 


"The concluding exercise was a dialogue between William R. 
Palmer and George It. Ferguson, which took the audience very much 
by surprise, and excited a good deal of interest. A stern looking 
old man, dressed in Puritan style, and with a rusty musket in his 
hand, suddenly pressed through the crowd, and mounting the plat 
form demanded of the young men what they were doing. They 
shrunk back, seemingly affrighted, and began to apologize, when he 
declared himself to be Mr. Toby, from whom the mountain had been 
named, and that the uproar of that day, and the injustice that had 
just been done him, would not allow him to sleep in his grave, and he 
had come forward to vindicate his rights. At this moment a tall 
Indian Chief, appropriately decorated, issued from the bushes, and 
was immediately recognized by Mr. Toby as old Mettawompe. The 
occasion had roused him too from his grave, to thank the young men 
for their generous effort to do justice to his memory. A rather sharp 
discussion ensued between Toby and Mettawompe, in vindication of 
their respective claims to the mountain. Toby said that his name was 
put upon it, because he had been so successful in killing Indians. 
Mettawompe said that although he had deeded to the whites the right 
of soil, he never thought of having his name struck off from the 
mountain, which was his throne and that of his ancestors. He then 
turned to the company present, and appealed to them, especially to 
the squaws, to say whether he or Toby had the best claim to the 
mountain. A response was immediately given by the audience ; and 
although we heard two or three voices in favor of Toby, the great 
mass cried out, Mettawompe, Mettawompe forever ! " 

The Class had no idea what a solemn reproof awaited them 
for this act of theirs, which they thought was at least harm 
less, and they supposed that it met with the approbation of the 
leading men of Sunderland. But after a delay of nearly five 
months, the cloud of disapprobation became fully charged, and 
poured out its contents through the " Express " of November 
9th, 1849, in the following communication: 


" MR. EDITOR : In a warrant calling a town meeting on the day 
of election of State officers, an article was inserted to this effect : 

"To see if the town will vote to comply with the change made 
by the Senior Class of Amherst College, in calling the mountain here 
tofore called Toby by the name of Mettawompe. 

" The following resolution was presented to the meeting, and passed 


by a majority of six to one, and a vote taken that it be sent to the 
publisher of the Amherst Express for publication : 

" Whereas, in the month of June last, the Senior Class of Amherst 
College saw fit to change the name of the mountain heretofore called 
Toby, to that of Mettawompe, therefore 

"Resolved, That as the citizens of the town of Sunderland, we con 
sider the associations connected with the history of the past too sacred, 
and the reasons assigned for the change too trivial, to justify us in 
assenting to the change. 

"It may not be out of place, perhaps, in explanation of the resolu 
tion, to state that it is related, as a matter of history connected -with 
this subject, that more than two centuries since, when this now beau 
tiful Valley was an unbroken wilderness, except where a few hardy 
pioneers had cleared a small spot and erected their cabins, that a 
small company, with one Capt. Toby at their head, came into this 
vicinity from a neighboring settlement, I think it was one of the 
Brookfields, for the purpose of ascertaining the wants, and of afford 
ing such protection as they might be able to give the few feeble settlers 
who had planted themselves here. And that they might better view 
the position of the country, they ascended this mountain, the first 
white men who ever placed their feet on Mt. Toby ; and from that day 
to the present, his posterity have ever been proud to call the moun 
tain after the worthy leader of that noble band ; and should we not, 
in making a change, be wanting in that filial regard which we should 
ever cherish for the memory of our ancestors, who have accomplished 
so great a work in subduing the forest and a savage foe, and establish 
ing principles and exhibiting virtues which we should ever do well to 
endeavor to imitate. I believe that we ought ever to cherish with 
the deepest and the purest regard, the names of those enduring 
monuments sacred to the memory of those of other times, that, so 
often as we or our posterity may behold the mountains of Holyoke 
or Toby, we shall be reminded of the noble and heroic men who lived 
in times which tried men s souls. And though they may have been 
so unfortunate as to have names not now considered euphonious by 
some, we had many times rather suffer the inconvenience in it, than 
sink into oblivion the memory of their names and their virtues." 

SUNDERLAND, Nov. 13, 1849. 

By this time the class were scattered to the four winds, but 
the few who saw this article thought the whole subject a 
matter for amusement rather than serious reply, and therefore 


some one inserted in the next week s " Express " the following 
jeu d esprit, and that was the last I ever heard of the matter. 
I am sure it never produced any unpleasant state of mind 
in any of us towards the people of Sunderland, nor did I 
ever see any evidence that they thought, us very grievous 
offenders. It did, however, seem rather strange to me that if 
six-sevenths of the people felt very deeply opposed to the 
revival of Mettawompe s name, they should have borne to see 
it for several years on the sign of the village hotel : 

COLLEGE. As soon as the last number of the Express appeared, con 
taining the formal condemnation by six-sevenths of the town of 
Sunderland of the doings of the Senior Class of 1849, in relation to 
Mount Toby, the Genius of that class (for each class as it departs from 
College leaves a Genius to look after its reputation) summoned a mes 
meric meeting of its members at noon on Friday last upon the top of 
the College Tower. All except three or four who could not be thrown 
into a somnambulic state, were present in spirit ; not bodily, for since 
a mere geological excursion had assumed so serious a shape as to be 
inserted by selectmen in a warrant for a town meeting, and then by 
a formal preamble and resolve condemned by a solemn vote, it was 
not known but other more serious warrants were in. the hands of the 
proper officers. For the same reasons it is thought unwise to say 
who presided at the meeting, or who addressed it, or what was said. 
Suffice it to say that being delivered from bodily fear, they felt free to 
discuss the subject in an independent manner. We give only the 
Resolutions, which passed in all cases by more than six to one. 

" 1. Resolved, That we receive with all humility the rebuke of the 
town of Sunderland as Seniors should receive a rebuke from their 
Seniors in age and wisdom ; and in token of our submission we will 
stand up with folded arms and lowered crests while it is read to us by 
the Secretary from the Amherst Express, with the affecting history of 
Captain Toby. 

" 2. Resolved, That we duly appreciate the high degree of reverence 
felt by six to one of the inhabitants of Sunderland for Captain Toby 
which has shown itself to us by two facts: 1. When deliberating 
whether to propose a new name for the mountain, we searched the 
town records and inquired of several of the most respectable inhabit 
ants, but from no source could we learn who Toby was. 2. The 
mountain (the highest part} has for more than a century been carefully 


guarded by gates and fences, and not even a foot-path has been made 
to its summit, and the temptations to visit it have been carefully 
avoided also by leaving the trees so to cover its top that the prospect 
was good for nothing. How sacredly has it been guarded ! And how 
strong (since the town meeting) must be the reverence of the people 
for Captain Toby ! 

" 3. Resolved, That as to their Names, their Geology, their Scenery, 
and their Poetry, Mountains are public property, belonging to no one 
town or individual more than to others, and therefore every man and 
every body of men have an equal right to call them by what names 
they please, and to take all lawful means to induce others to use the 
same names. 

"4. Resolved, That as students, the mountains by which we have 
been surrounded during the four years of our college lives which we 
have often traversed, whose natural history we have explored, and 
whose awful forms we have often gazed upon with poetic and even 
a religious interest, should be regarded . by us with special interest, 
and if they have no names, or bad ones, and older men fail to do it, 
we cannot feel that it is arrogance in us, but rather a duty, to propose 
new ones. 

"5. Resolved, That to discover a thing is not merely to know of its 
existence, but to bring out its qualities for public use ; and hence if 
by hard labor we make a mountain accessible which has been before 
shut out and its prospects unknown, we feel that we have some claim 
to the right of proposing for it such a name as is agreeable to good 
taste, and will do honor to whom honor is due. 

" 6. Resolved, That when it is proved by fair documents, not by 
hearsay rumor, so as to become a matter of history, that Captain 
Toby and his party ascended this mountain < the first white men 
who ever did it, we shall be ready to acknowledge the fact as of 
interest. But it will still be true that Mettawompe gave a deed of this 
mountain to the whites for eighty fathom of wampum, and therefore 
as its rightful possessor, has the best claim to have his name attached 
to it ; especially as one of the last of an abused race to whom such a 
tribute is due. 

"7. Resolved, That when the claims to the name of Mount Toby 
shall be made out as strong as those of Bull Hill, which the class con 
scientiously refrained from disturbing,* we will yield up those of 

* Mount Toby, or Mettawompe, consists of quite a number of distinct emi 
nences, the highest of which only has usually gone by the name of Toby. 
The conspicuous spur that extends southerly is called Bull Hill, from an 


"8. Resolved, That the thanks of the class be presented as follows : 

" 1. To the young men of the town of Sunderland who a few years 
since published a Literary Journal, entitled The Mysterious Budget, 
(H. "YV. Taft, Jr., and M. II. Smith, Editors,) containing a story of 
Mettawompe, (probably quite as authentic as that of Captain Toby,) 
which greatly stimulated us to attach his name to the mountain, and 
which we recommend for republication to the editor of the Amherst 
Express as very ingenious, and likely to interest his readers. 

"2. To the seventh part of the men of Sunderland who either did 
not vote upon or voted against the famous resolution restoring Toby 
to his rights. We class them with the immortal fourteen who voted 
against supplies for the Mexican War. 

" 3. To Moses Hubbard, Esq., the owner of Mettawompe, for allow 
ing the class to make a road up its side, and open a prospect from its 
summit, without waiting for a town meeting. 

"4. To Horace W. Taft, Esq., for his kindness in allowing the 
town records in his possession to be freely examined. 

"5. To the town of Sunderland, for bringing this subject before the 
public again, and thus leading them especially literary and scientific 
men to examine and decide the subject according to justice and good 
taste, which is all the class desire ; and as to the implied rebuke that 
falls upon us, we trust that we are about as thankful for it as we 
suppose the people of Sunderland will be for these Resolutions. 

"9. Resolved, That the success of members of Amherst College in 
fixing names upon Turner s Falls, Norwottuck, and we trust also the 
Ghor, should encourage our successors to proceed in this work until 
the beautiful natural scenery of this region shall have such names 
attached to it that we shall not be ashamed to inform literary and 
scientific gentlemen from abroad what those names are. They will 
doubtless meet with strong prejudice, misrepresentation and opposi 
tion. But if they did not, it would be about the first valuable enter 
prise that was not thus rewarded." 

It is probable that the opposition to a change of name had 
an earlier origin than the actual christening of the mountain. 
Some of the newspapers manifested displeasure upon the 

affecting incident. A farmer having loaded a sled at the top, to which two 
bulls were attached, they ran down the hill, and Were driven furiously against 
a tree, that broke the neck of one of the noble animals. Hence the name of 
the hill. It is a matter of history that this was the first bull ever killed 
upon this eminence. 


announcement that it would take place. Seeing one of these 
articles in the " Springfield Kepublican," I drew up an expose 
of the reasons for our course, but for some reason I never 
offered it to the paper. Yet as it may still be of some use 
since a great deal of this work yet remains to be done I 
insert it here : 

" Messrs. EDITORS : Having noticed that recently, and I believe 
also some time ago, you have spoken -with disapprobation of the 
attempt of the Senior Class in Amherst College to affix the name of 
Mettawompe upon a mountain in Sunderland, I have thought that 
perhaps if all the facts in the case had been before you, you might 
have been of a different opinion. At least, so high is my sense of 
the liberality of your views, and of your desire to promote every 
good object, that I venture to offer you a brief statement on the 

" For more than twenty years the instructors in Geology, Mineral 
ogy, Botany and Zoology, in the College, have been in the habit of 
spending at least one day with their classes abroad in the fields and 
the mountains. And in such cases they have usually visited some 
mountain, or gorge, or cataract, where the scenery was wild and 
romantic, in order to inspire a taste for the beauties and sublimities 
of nature. They soon found, however, that many of the interesting 
spots with which the Connecticut Valley abounds were unvisited, 
because no paths had been made to them, and that some had no 
names, and others bad ones. The thought occurred whether these 
excursions could not be turned to a good account as to this matter. 
The first effort, and it was a bold and an arduous one, was to make 
a new road to the summit of Holyoke, which was so successful that 
the old road was at once abandoned. The next class opened a 
road with great labor to the top of Milliard s Knob, the highest 
point of the Holyoke range, and this name they proposed to change 
to Norwottuck, the Indian name of Hadley. The next class directed 
their attention to Mount Toby, which had no path to its summit, 
and no clearing at the top to lay open the valley below. Not 
liking the name of Toby, nor being able to ascertain by inquiries 
in Sunderland who or what Toby was, whether a white man, a 
negro, a horse or a dog, but ascertaining from the town records 
that Mettawompe was the head Indian Chief who gave a deed of the 
mountain, I think to John Pyncheon of Springfield, they felt as if it 
would not be improper, nay, that a sense of justice to a persecuted 


and extinct race required them to propose to substitute his name 
for that of Toby ; and it was done subsequently in the presence of 
a large number of the citizens of Sunderland and Leverett. In like 
manner, the present Senior Class more recently have explored the 
deep gorge made by Deerfield River between Conway and Shel- 
burne, which few if any white men have ever done in its whole 
extent, and proposed for it the name of Ghor, an Arabic word sig 
nifying a long valley between two mountains. At an earlier date 
other members of the College had succeeded, I believe, in giving 
names to Turner s Falls, Holyoke s Falls, Titan s Piazza and Titan s 
Pier ; and all this not only without opposition, (save perhaps here 
and there an individual,) but Avith the concurrence of the citizens. 
In substituting Norwottuck for Hilliard s Knob, especially, the people 
of South Amherst turned out almost en masse and labored for several 

"The following, it seems to us, have been among the prominent 
good effects of such excursions : 

"They afford an occasional and desirable relaxation for those 
engaged in study, and that without any loss of time, since the 
increased vigor of body and mind produced enables them to make 
more rapid advances afterwards. 

"They enable students to look at rocks, minerals, plants and 
animals in their natural condition, and give them an interest in the 
works of nature. 

" They cultivate a taste for natural scenery, and tend to divert the 
attention from low and unworthy scenes and pleasures. 

"They afford a good exercise in linguistics and elocution : 1st, in 
looking out a good name for the mountain, &c. ; 2d, in preparing 
addresses for the occasion ; 3d, in delivering them in the open air. 

"They tend to attach a class to one another and to the scenery 
which they explore, and form scenes of pleasant recollection in future 

"They open to the public new and attractive places of resort for 
relaxation, health and enjoyment, unattended with many of the dan 
gers to morals which flow from artificial sources of amusement, and 
thus improve the taste and the character of the community. 

"Now what objections are there to such excursions that will over 
balance these advantages ? Is it not desirable that the interesting 
spots in our scenery should be searched out, macje accessible, and 
crowned with appropriate names ? And if literary men may not do 
this work who will ? Nay, if the young do not take hold of it, will 
those in middle life, full of cares and labors ? When have they done 

THE GHOR. 243 

it ? I apprehend that there is a feeling as if young men yet in college 
were taking too much upon them to attempt to give and alter the 
names of mountains, cataracts and gorges. But whose rights do they 
invade ? and if they propose good names why not receive them ? Be 
sides, let the blame not fall upon the young men, but rather upon 
those instructors who encourage them to this work. They are willing 
to take the responsibility ; and they wish they had no more serious 
faults to answer for. 

"But, Messrs. Editors, if the authors of these enterprises are to be 
followed with formal town meeting votes of condemnation, as if they 
had been guilty of some heinous crime, and if our literary men, and 
especially the conductors of our public journals, join in the denuncia 
tion, the public may rest assured that they will not be troubled any 
further from this quarter. It is enough to endure the severe fatigues 
and anxieties of body and mind which such enterprises demand, and 
to overcome the obstacles which selfishness and vulgar prejudice throw 
in the way. Future Senior Classes will not be advised, nor will they 
consent, to meet in addition the frowns of those literary gentlemen 
who conduct the public press. The scenery of Massachusetts, espe 
cially of Western Massachusetts, is yet only partially known and 
made accessible. Many of its most interesting hills and gorges are 
yet unvisited and unnamed, and many more have names which make 
us a laughing stock to travellers and literary men, and repel all men 
of taste. If our public journals would favor the enterprise, easily 
might we open many new sources of attraction to the admirers of 
nature. But without such countenance, Horse Mountain, Bull Hill, 
Beartown Mountain, Mount Tom, Tom Ball, Saddle Mountain, Rattle 
snake Hill, Rattlesnake Gutter, &c., &c., must be left alone in their 

17. THE GHOR. 

I notice in this connection the excursion which resulted in 
trying to impose this Arabic name upon one of the wildest 
and longest gorges of New England, because it happened in 
the autumn of the same year in which Mettawompe was taken 
in hand. A brief account of the trip from the " Express " 
will tell the whole story. 

" THE GHOR. And what is a Ghor ? It is an Arabic word that 
means a long, deep valley between high hills. In Palestine, when 
the Ghor is spoken of, that deep valley is usually meant which lies 
between the Dead Sea and the Lake of Genessareth, and through 


which the Jordan winds like a serpent, between high and rocky 

"But, Mr. Editor, we have now a Ghor in this vicinity, although 
as yet you will not find it in books upon geography. Allow me to 
mention a few facts, that will, I trust, convince you of the correct 
ness of my statement. 

" On Monday, October 15, the Senior Class of Amherst College 
went out upon a geological excursion, and we were among a few 
learners on the subject who accompanied them. They directed 
their course to the south part of Deerfield Meadows, where the 
Deerfield River emerges from the mountains, between Conway and 
Shelburne. Leaving their carriages at this place they commenced 
the exploration of that deep ravine, which extends from this place 
to Shelburne Falls, a distance along the river not less than nine 
miles. Through the whole of that distance has the Deerfield River 
cut its deep channel through the rocks, across their highly inclined 
strata. Almost the whole distance they crowd to the very water s 
edge, and leave not room enough for a house or a road, and only 
one road crosses the river. The whole region has all the wildness 
of the wilderness, and the scenery is highly romantic. Occasionally 
most beautiful cascades leap down from a great height, and some 
times it is necessary to fell a tree in order to get over a tributary 
stream. In doing this, some individuals were subjected to a rather 
more energetic and sudden hydropathic experiment than they desired. 
But upon the whole, all felt amply repaid for a day of very severe 
toil, by the fine geological sections exhibited, and by the wildness 
and sublimity of the scenery. There is not, probably, another 
place in Massachusetts where a river bank can be traced continu 
ously nine miles, without finding one road along either bank, or a 
single habitation. The banks do not, indeed, rise above to equal 
height, but slope gradually back to an elevation of nearly a thou 
sand feet. Yet this immense chasm has doubtless been worn down 
in the hardest rock, (mica slate, hornblende slate and gneiss,) by 
the river itself. The work, indeed, is far greater than the famous 
deep cut between Niagara Falls and Lake Ontario. West of Shel 
burne Falls there are decisive marks of the former action of the 
river on the rocks at the top of a mountain five hundred and forty- 
five feet above its present bed. 

"In the evening, the Class assembled at the hotel at Shelburne 
Falls, and recounted the exciting events of the day. One of the 
number at length proposed that the long and deep gorge through 
which they had passed should receive the name of The Ghor. The 


motion passed by acclamation, and after remarks by several present, 
the transaction was confirmed musically, by the Shelburne Falls 
band, who happened to be near, and who struck up a lively air, in 
their best style. 

"It ought to be mentioned that the lower part of the Ghor in 
Deerfield, furnishes quite an attractive place of Tesort for those who 
seek in summer a few hours relaxation and recreation. At the 
entrance they will find two or three small boats ready to convey 
them half or three-quarters of a mile between precipitous, wooded, 
and rocky hills, to the foot of the first rapids, beyond which, they 
can creep along the shores as much farther up the wild ravine as 
inclination and strength permit. 

"If any are disposed to demur to the name thus proposed for 
this romantic gulf, we would suggest that before they urge their 
objections, they follow the steps of the Senior Class on the 15th 
October. After they have clambered over nine miles of slanting, 
slippery rocks, and have taken two or three cold water baths, they 
will have as good claims to be heard as the Class can urge." 


This spot in the south-west part of Belchertown, was named 
in 1854. It is a large granite boss, not large enough to be 
called a mountain, rising not more than fifty feet above the 
adjoining road from Belchertown to Ludlow. A few extracts 
from a report of the excursion in the " Express," will give an 
idea of the rock and the occasion. The representative of the 
class, who announced the name, with appropriate remarks, 
was William W. Fowler. He concluded as follows : 

"An appellation derived from a locality and event in Scriptural 
history has been kindly proposed by Dr. Hitchcock, in his generous 
co-operation ; this appellation has been adopted by the Class of 54, 
as euphonious in itself, and as peculiarly appropriate from the 
similarity between this beautiful elevation and its namesake in 
Palestine. In that sacred land, within sight of many hallowed 
scenes, within sight of the Holy City, within sight of the River 
Jordan, the Dead Sea and Mount Carmel, in a barren waste, there 
stands a lofty eminence, cultivated and inhabited by man. Ages 
ago, in a civil war which broke out among the Israelites, the chil 
dren of Benjamin, sorely pressed in battle, fled for refuge to that 
rock, where for four long months they kept their stand, until their 


brethren sent heralds of peace, and renewed the bonds which had 
been roughly cut asunder by the sword of discord. 

" So may we, when sorely pressed in the battle of life, retreat to 
this mountain crag to enjoy a brief truce, and on this altar sacri 
ficing every estrangement and every feeling of reserve, knit afresh 
the ties of friendship and love. 

" Therefore it is with confidence that, commissioned by the Class 
of 54, I now proceed to announce the cognomen which we trust 
this summit will hereafter bear. Thus we dignify it with a scriptu 
ral name and scriptural associations. And when thus dignified 
may the stored blessings of Heaven fall upon it like the dew upon 
Hermon. To quote the language of our Webster, Let the light of 
morning gild, and parting day linger and play around this summit, 
which I, in virtue of authority delegated to me, now denominate 

At the dinner in the orchard at the foot of the rock, several 
speeches were made, which were published in the " Express " 
for June 9, 1854. 


This was not the next mountain named by the Senior 
Class, but I introduce it here because I wish to describe first 
all those places of scenographic interest that are so near 
Amherst that they can be visited in a half day. 

Nonotuck embraces the northern part of the trap range in 
Northampton and Easthampton, which culminates at the 
south end in Mount Tom. The north part shows from the 
valley below three distinct peaks. The two most southerly 
peaks and the highest, are yet covered too much with trees 
for good prospects, and are less favorably situated than the 
most northerly peak, and it was on this that the ceremonies 
took place. The day was one of the most delightful ever 
experienced in our climate, when every breath inhaled seemed 
to awaken the physical and intellectual powers to vigor. 

Since this mountain was named, quite a comfortable house 
of refreshment and even board has been built there, with 
conveniences for horses a few rods below the summit, so that 
a delightful place of rest for the invalid and the care-worn 


may here be found. The following brief description of the 
ceremonies of the occasion is taken from the " Springfield 

" THE CHRISTENING OF NONOTUCK. Thursday was a great day 
for the students of Amherst College, Easthampton and Holyoke 
seminaries. The naming of the three lesser peaks of the Mount 
Tom range, on the h/ow of the most easterly one, was the occasion 
that brought them, together. Fair women and brave men toiled 
patiently up the steep ascent in a broiling sun, to enjoy the promised 
intellectual treat, breathe the pure mountain air, and drink in 
the extensive view. Upwards of five hundred persons were gath 
ered for this purpose. Among the notables were C. C. Chaffee, 
M. C., Erastus Hopkins, Lieut. Gov. Trask, Presidents Stearns 
and Hitchcock, of Amherst College, Rev. Drs. Allen and Eddy, of 
Northampton, Professors Haven and Clark, of Amherst, and llev. 
Aaron M. Colton and Prof. Hubbard, of Easthampton. 

"The excursion and the celebration were under the auspices of 
the Senior Class of Amherst College, and at 3, P. M., the audience 
was called to order, and J. E. Tower, of that class, introduced as 
the christening orator. He commenced by congratulating his class 
mates that they had left the classic groves and cloistered halls of 
study, and come thither to learn a purer lesson in the great book 
of nature, and gather strength for other conflicts. He called that 
mountain-top their altar, and the vaulted sky their sanctuary. He 
said there were mountains in the intellectual world as well as in the 
physical; that great ideas and thoughts give jo the mind its highest 
elevation ; that it was God-like to forget themselves in thought. 
He said that the mountain we are to name to-day is the child of 
nature, or rather God s nobleman furrowed with age. Mr. Tower 
bore himself manfully, and spoke about fifteen minutes. 

"The name chosen for these three eastern peaks of the Mount 
Tom range, and formally conferred in this opening speech of the 
day, is NONOTUCK. This supplants no other name, for the other and 
highest peak is now and forever named Mount Tom. Other names 
than the one announced were formerly discussed, and we under 
stand if Prof. Longfellow had accepted the committee s invitation, 
Hiawatha would have been chosen. It is undoubtedly all for the 
best that Ncmotuck Was decided on, for this is a local Indian name 
of Northampton, and signifies mountain of the blest. " 

"A song followed, in excellent style, and then Messrs. Tuck, 
Ellsworth and Bishop, members of the Senior Class, each gave short 


orations abounding in local allusions, and C. J. Brewster, also of 
the class, a poem, entitled New England ; all appropriate to the 
occasion and creditable to their authors. Repeated eulogies were 
made of ex-president Hitchcock, and when at the close of another 
stirring song the president of the day called on him to respond, he 
did it in such a modest, playful manner, that it brought down the 
house, or rather mountain. He said, I never felt before the loss 
of that little brief authority I used to exercise ia college. You used 
to obey me. I meant to have told you not to expose me thus, &c. 
He then opened a paper that contained a dozen different stones, and 
said that that morning he visited the mineralogical cabinet of the 
College, and obtained permission of the specimens there collected, 
to break off little pieces in order to bring them thither and introduce 
them to the rocks of Nonotuck. He exhibited specimens of mountain 
rock from the Arctic regions, the Rhine, China, the Jura Mountains, 
the Alps, Mount Tom, the White Mountains, Egypt, Mount Holyoke, 
Africa, the Green Mountains, Mounts Lebanon and Olympus. He 
then tossed them up into the air, and said this mountain is now re 
ceived into fellowship with all the other mountains. Dr. Hitchcock 
was very easy and familiar in his remarks, and the students all love 
him like a father. He never had a stronger hold on the affections 
of his pupils than now. We could not but think, as we saw him 
drink in the view, expand his lungs on that mountain height, and 
tread those craggy rocks, of an old eagle, reconnoitering for his 
northern flight. He declared that the northern view of that eminence 
was the finest his eye ever rested on. 

" He introduced Dr. Allen to the audience, the oldest man present, 
us a native of Northampton. Dr. Allen responded by saying that 
Dr. Hitchcock had made a biographical mistake, though never a 
geological one. Pittsfield was his birthplace. Dr. Allen said his 
father was the first minister of Pittsfield, and that he fought as well 
as he preached. He exhibited a large wallet, belonging to his 
ancestors, and among other things read from the diary in it, a pas 
sage about the capture of Cornwallis. He thanked the young men 
for honoring Northampton in their mountain name, and said he 
could sympathize with them for sixty years ago he was in Harvard 

President Stearns was next called up, and said that he was 
reposing as quietly as those rocks would admit when called on. He 
said the mountain to-day has undergone a sort of baptism, a 
sprinkling of stones ; that though not as old as Methusalah, or some 
that were there, he could not help looking backward to the time 


when their grandfathers named another mountain, Bunker Hill, that 
day eighty-three years ago. Your grandfathers, said he, welcomed 
their brothers to a baptism of blood, and the psalm they sung Avas 
Yankee Doodle. He said that thirty-three years ago when a Sopho 
more in Harvard College (God save the Sophomores) he stood near 
Daniel Webster, when in his manhood s prime, he laid the corner 
stone of that monument, whose top converses with the clouds, and 
basks in the earliest and latest sunbeam. Still later he had heard 
Kossuth from that same rostrum of liberty. Dr. Stearns otherwise 
recognized the anniversary day which had been chosen for this rural 

" Erastus Hopkins next spoke, and in his usual effective manner. 
During all this time the attention of the audience was fixed upon the 
speakers, but the waning day reminded of adjournment, and after 
the close of Mr. Hopkins speech the party broke for the valleys." 

In 1861, the proprietors of Nonotuck requested me to sug 
gest a name for their mountain house. Out of several which 
I furnished they selected that of Eyrie ffouse, an Eyrie being 
the place where the eagle and other birds of prey build their 
nests, as Milton says 

" The eagle and the stork on cliffs and cedar tops their eyries build." 

The house was dedicated with addresses on the fourth of 
July, 1861. 

The view from this summit towards Northampton, is per 
fectly unique, and exceedingly fine. The old bed of Connecti 
cut River, still filled with water, here surrounds an elliptical 
island two or three miles long, which lies directly beneath the 
eye, and a little beyond rises the beautiful village of North 
ampton. This view far exceeds in interest any one in the 
immediate vicinity from Mount Ilolyoke, although the view 
down the river is better from that summit. Both should be 
visited by the lover of natural scenery. 


I have already spoken of this mountain as the culminating 
point of the trap range on the west bank of Connecticut River. 


It is excelled in height only by Norwottuck, in any part of the 
Ilolyoke range, and the view from its summit is very com 
manding, though less attractive than that from Holyoke and 
Konotuck, because the objects seen from it are less so. Yet 
he who would enjoy all the variety and beauty of this part of 
the Connecticut Valley, must not fail of ascending Mount Tom. 
On each prominent peak of the whole Holyoke range will be 
found so much that is peculiar in the prospect as amply to 
repay one for a visit. I once traversed the whole length of 
the range from Belchertown Ponds to Mount Tom, and had 
several days of rich enjoyment. 

I quote the following paragraph from my Final Report on 
the Geology of Massachusetts, describing a rich scene some 
times to be seen from the summit of Tom. 

"I obtained from this mountain one summer morning a striking 
view, while yet the whole Valley of the Connecticut was enveloped 
in fog, and Tom and a few other peaks connected with the Greenstone 
range, alone rose above the vapor. The sun shining brightly, and the 
wind gently blowing, gave to this fog a strong resemblance to an 
agitated ocean. To the north and south it seemed illimitable ; but 
on the east and west the high mountain ranges that form the bounda 
ries of the Valley of the Connecticut, constituted its shores. I could 
not but feel transported back to that remote period, when this great 
Valley was in like manner enveloped by water, and Holyoke and 
Tom formed only low and picturesque islands upon its surface." 
p. 247. 

Every principle of correct taste reluctates against the name 
of this mountain. But the prejudices we encountered in respect 
to Toby, have made us unwilling to disturb another nest. 

21. MINERVA S SEAT, (Lookout.) 

I venture to propose this name for a fine elevation lying a few 
rods cast of Mount Holyoke Seminary, in South Hadley. It is one 
of those dome-shaped hills of sand and gravel, such as Castor and 
Pollux, in Amherst, already described. Though not very high, it 
commands an extensive view, especially of the gorge between Hol 
yoke and Nonotuck, through which a fine view of Northampton is 
obtained, with the range of the Hoosac Mountains in the back- 


ground. I propose a name to this hill chiefly in the hope of attract 
ing visitors to it. I ought to say, however, that a view nearly as 
good may be obtained from the fine Observatory on the top of the 
Holyoke Seminary. 


This remarkable outline of red sandstone rises up almost perpen 
dicularly five hundred feet above Connecticut River, in the south 
east part of Deerfield, and arrests the attention of all the Valley 
north of Nonotuck. It is seen to the best advantage two or three 
miles south, on the river road to Hatfield, or quite as strikingly 
farther west, in "Whately. From its top, of course, the view is very 
rich and commanding. Upon the Connecticut and the pleasant 
village of Sunderland, you look down as almost beneath your feet, 
and it seems as if you might even leap into either of them. The 
spot also overlooks the sites of two memorable battles with the 
Indians, one to the south, where the Indians were defeated in 1675, 
by Captains L-athrop and Beers, and the other to the north-west, 
where the same year, Captain Lathrop, with a company of eighty 
men, "the very flower of Essex County," was drawn into an ambus 
cade and nearly all destroyed. 

If it were possible to get a more classic and poetical name upon 
Sugar-Loaf, as well as Tom, it would be very desirable. But it 
wants faith and courage to attempt it. 


In describing Mettawompe, I have mentioned that the southern 
part of that pile of mountains was called Bull Hill. In the autumn 
of 1861, the Senior Class that is to graduate in 1862, visited this 
mountain, on the south side, and found there, at a moderate eleva 
tion, a delightful view of the Connecticut Valley, south and west of 
the mountain. By going as far as Long Plain, in Leverett, they 
found an unfrequented path leading up the hill, through a valley, 
which they could follow for nearly a mile, and then by climbing a 
steep hill on the right, less than one hundred feet high, they reached 
a terrace, which brought into view a good part of the Valley. 
Ascending a second terrace, not more than fifty feet high, a still 
better view was obtained, and best of all upon a third terrace, fifty 
feet higher. Here the view is quite as good as that from the top 
of Mettawompe, and probably it would be still better from the top 
of Bull Hill, which is now covered with a forest. Amherst, in its 
whole length, Iladley, Northampton, Easthampton, Hatfield and 
Whately, are in full view, bounded on the south by the picturesque 


Holyoke range, and you have the Connecticut, with its meanderings 
directly before you. It should be visited in the morning of a clear 
day, and a better view of the extent, populousness and richness of 
the Connecticut Valley will be obtained than from any other point 
around it. The spot is only about six miles from the Colleges, and 
if the Leverett people on Long Plain such men, for instance, as 
Moses Field, who first took me to the spot, and who has so accurate 
a knowledge of the geology and topography of the mountain will 
only clear out the carriage path a little, and make a little better 
foot-path up the terraces, I believe this will be one of the most 
frequented look-outs around Amherst, especially as the drive to it is 
very romantic. 

In giving a name to this mountain the class acted on the principle 
of Cowper in his well known lines : 

Leuconomos beneath well sounding Greek 
I hide a name I dare not speak. 

Bull Hill is flat and vulgar ; but Mount Taurus is in good taste 
and poetical. 


No one in Amherst will recognize this name, and not one in a 
thousand has ever heard of the fine prospect from its summit. I 
meant that the Class of 1862 should have christened it ; but as they 
did not find time, I propose the above name to a moderate elevation 
in the south-west corner of Shutesbury, on the east side of Amherst, 
rising from the level of what is called Flat Hill. A pleasant ride 
brings you to a spot called Adam s Mill, where you leave the car 
riage. Directly north of the mill and less than half a mile distant, 
rises a dome-shaped hill, perhaps three hundred feet high, entirely 
cleared and easy of ascent. Here you seem wonderfully lifted up 
above the world, and though the view is rather cramped on the east 
and west, yet north and south it is peculiarly grand and extensive. 
On the south the Holyoke range is just about distant enough to be 
imposing, and through some of its notches, as for instance towards 
Bclchertown, you catch glimpses of scenery beyond. On the north 
Mettawompe occupies most of the opening, and is peculiarly impos 
ing, with the Leverett church spire at its base. More to the right a 
valley opens, and discloses mountains far away, perhaps even as far 
as the Green Mountains of Vermont. The truth is, this Valley, 
which extends southerly through East Amherst, and so on to Belcher- 
town, was one of the old beds of Connecticut River, when the country 


was undergoing gradual drainage, and the waters at different levels 
sought different passes through the hills. 

The name prefixed above has been suggested from the fine oppor 
tunity old Boreas has to sweep through this north and south valley, 
when he would not fail to give very rough kisses to this eminence, a 
privilege of which he does not fail to avail himself very often. He 
does not always exercise his rights there, as I can testify ; for a few 
days ago (March 29th, 18G2,) I ascended this hill in a clear, quiet 
time, borne up by a strong crust on snow two feet deep, and all was 
mild, and I may add all was magnificent ; for all the mountains and 
valleys far and near were clothed in their winter dress, and I was 
reminded of the glacial phenomena of the Alps. 

A delightful ride in summer from Amherst is to visit Mount Boreas 
and then to proceed northward through a romantic valley which 
winds around to the City in Amherst. From thence proceed down 
the stream described in another connection through a romantic gulf 
till you come to the Golden Gate and the Crescent already described, 
whose beauties will fitly close the excursion. 


Aquilo means a north-cast wind, and I propose to apply the name 
to the highest point on the Pelham range, which is north-east from 
Amherst and south-east from Boreas. Of course a view from its 
summit, which is mostly cleared of trees, is very fine. 


Following the same lofty Pelham range, from Mount Aquilo 
southerly until nearly opposite the Colleges in Amherst, we find it 
cut through by a small river, leaving a prominent peak, which is the 
southern terminus of the range, and although not as high as Aquilo, 
the prospect from it is finer. In the valley beneath some chalybeate 
springs were discovered a few years ago, which became somewhat 
celebrated, and as Hygeia was the goddess of health, I thought this 
an appropriate name for the mountain that overlooked the fountains 
of health, and so I placed that name upon that peak in a geological 
map of the region published several years ago in my "Illustrations 
of Surface Geology." Last year a large hotel was erected on a com 
manding eminence a little south of the springs, for which I was 
requested to propose a name at its dedication on the fourth of July. 
I suggested that of Orient House, from its position in respect to 
Amherst, and it was adopted. The springs also were christened the 
Uygeian Springs. They are situated in one of the most romantic 
valleys that I ever saw, and if the insane disposition that has been 


manifested to cut down the dense groves along a most romantic 
stream can be arrested, and foot-paths be made along its wild banks, 
it seems as if the spot must present peculiar attractions to the invalid 
and careworn in balmy summer. 

Although the western prospect from Hygeia is magnificent, 
embracing the country towards Amherst and Northampton, it is 
unfortunate that the proprietor neglects to cut down the trees from 
its summit, which so obstruct the view that it is not much visited. 


In the address which I made at Rock Rimmon, already given, I 
have incidentally described the Orient Crest. It forms the western 
ridge of the Pelham range, to the south of the Orient House, and 
especially that part of it when you first come in view of Belcher- 
town, as you travel along the Crest in the road leading southerly 
from the Methodist Church, in Pelham, to Belchertown. You get 
a splendid view of the Holyoke range, of the valley, on its north 
side, with Connecticut River, and of many objects on the south side, 
and nearly south of the Chain Pond, in Belchertown, and the prin 
cipal village in that place. The views are quite peculiar, and well 
worthy a trip over this road. 

There are other places of some scenographic interest not far from 
Amherst, which will be described farther on. But the above twenty- 
seven, all accessible by a half day s excursion, must be seen to give 
one a full idea of the beauty and variety of our scenery. Probably 
very few of those who have resided in Amherst have ever heard 
of half these places, or visited more than a tithe of them. It has 
taken me thirty-five years to find them all out, and I may not yet 
have found them all. But when I think of their number and vari 
ety, I cannot but predict that this region will prove a place of great 
resort for summer residents, on account of the great number of 
interesting spots around, which they can visit for amusement, exhil 
aration, and instruction. Very few places in the land can show so 

I now proceed to notice some other mountains more remote, 
which different Classes have named, some of them even beyond the 
limits of the State. 


This mountain, lying in the east part of Heath, was named 
by the Class of 185 G. It lies about midway between Amherst 


and Williams Colleges, and the Senior Class from the latter 
were present, by invitation, and it gave deep interest to the 
occasion. I copy some part of the account of the excursion 
from the " Amherst Express." 

The name was given to the mountain by T. P. Herrick, who 
closed as follows: "In behalf of the Class of 5G in Amherst 
College, I give a name to this summit, whose claim to rank and 
title among the family of mountains, your presence here to-day has 
sanctioned. And while returning seasons continue to adorn it with 
nature s beauties, and passing years add honors to its hoary brow, 
let this noble peak be called POCUMTUCK." 

Then followed a Geological Oration, by C. H. Hitchcock, from 
which I present an extract. 

" The traveller in Europe finds in its different countries much to 
please the eye and astonish the mind. In England he becomes wea 
ried with beholding the mimerous castles of Saxon knights, and the 
munificent museums of modern science. In Paris, gaiety becomes 
irksome ; and tiresome the miles of paintings through which he may 
pass. Renowned battle-fields are interesting cathedrals magnificent. 
But Switzerland is especially remembered. There are the mountains 
and valleys, the snow-capped peaks and the glaciers there the 
needle-rocks, narrow passes, and the wildest scenery imaginable. 
Nature has showered upon that country the truly grand and sub 
lime in profusion. The traveller must examine the European works 
of art before visiting Switzerland if he would satisfactorily estimate 
them, so puny and insignificant are the works of man beside this 
Alpine scenery. But the glaciers will be remembered when other 
objects are forgotten, they are so singular, impressive and powerful 
in their effects. Imagine distant snow-capped peaks before you a 
valley, on either side of which are precipitous rocks. Imagine also a 
mass of clear, blue, flexuous ice, gradually sliding down, turning 
with and filling the valley, scratching, t rounding, and tearing off 
rocks, and pushing before it the moraines or hills of the dissevered 
fragments while a rushing torrent leaps from beneath the mass. 
This might give a faint idea of a glacier, though all descriptions must 
fall far below the reality. At present these glaciers are not so 
extensive as formerly. 

" It would be natural to suppose that the rounding and scratching 
of our New England rocks, like these under our feet, ought to be 
attributed to this glacial agency ; especially as the marks of glaciers 


have been called miniature drift. But our drift striae, unlike gla 
cier scratches, are found upon the summits of high mountains, and 
running north and south. Inasmuch as marks of ancient glaciers 
have been found in Wales and other countries, geologists have searched 
the valleys of this country for similar evidences. Quite recently they 
have been discovered in Massachusetts, where the marks of their 
passage over the rocks may be clearly seen. One of these glaciers 
was at the foot of this mountain, in the valley of the Deerfield River ; 
another was upon the north side, in the valley of the North Branch. 
At the junction of the two rivers the glaciers united and proceeded 
down the Deerfield River, through the Ghor. These glaciers have 
no names. Those in Switzerland have separate appellations, and 
why should not these be similarly designated ? Perhaps in this day 
of naming, while infected with the cacoethes appelandi, I should be 
justified in bestowing names upon them. Accordingly I will denom 
inate the glacier coming down the Deerfield Valley the 4 Occidental 
Glacier, the one in the North Branch the Boreal Glacier, and the 
glacier formed by their union, the Pocumtuck Glacier. 

" We might easily imagine these ancient glaciers beneath us. The 
Hoosac range and this mountain forming the snow-capped peaks the 
starting points the two valleys partly filled with moving ice, which 
is grinding and scouring the rocks, leaving at the turns of the valley 
moraines of angular blocks, the two uniting and together pushing 
on below the Falls. 

"These great changes are suggestive of important moral lessons. 
I cannot refrain from mentioning the excellent illustration this 
ancient glacier affords to us, my brother Seniors, of the proper 
motives we should cherish in seeking to exert influence in graduate 

"The glacier at first is clean and pure at length it becomes soiled 
by contact with the rock, and when it has ascended up to the 
heavens leaves all its impurities behind, besides giving to future 
ages the indications of its existence. 

"So we, like this glacier, at first unsullied, may become soiled by 
contact with the world. Yet let the good influence we exert be 
great, so that when we may have ascended up to heaven, though 
our names be forgotten, our deeds shall be too deeply engraven 
upon the institutions of society to be worn away by time or fate." 

Other speeches were made. The dinner was eaten at Shelburne 
Falls, and among other toasts responded to was the following : 

"President Steams His face more truthfully than his name, be 
speaks the kindness of his heart. During his short connection with 


our College, he has made himself the object of our warmest love and 

"Dr. Stearns replied in a very happy manner. He said that he 
favored this excursion, because he thought it tended to benefit those 
who engaged in it, morally, intellectually and physically. He was 
present for another reason in addition to the above he was there 
because his colleague, Dr. Hitchcock, had promised him if he would 
come, that he would tell him some things which he never knew 
before ; and so he had he had told him more things than he ever 
thought the learned professor knew himself. From what Dr. Hitch 
cock told him to-day, he had concluded that he (Dr. H.) must have 
lived years and years ago, and he really imagined that he was con 
sulted in the making of Connecticut River. 

"In conclusion, he gave a sentiment which called out Professor 
Hitchcock, who after making some very interesting remarks, con 
cluded by informing the "Williams Seniors that there were several 
mountain peaks in their region of the State which as yet bore no 
name, and that if at any time they should invite him, he would be 
most happy to come and assist them at a christening." 

This was one of the successful efforts to impose a name 
upon a mountain, and that too one of the highest and grandest 
in the State. It is still called Pocumtuck in the vicinity. 


This mountain, lying on the east bank of Connecticut 
River, directly opposite Bellows Falls, was named by the 
Senior Class of 1857, on the 23d day of September, and 
although the equinoctial storm somewhat marred the interest 
of the occasion, it was, nevertheless, marked by the usual 
good feeling and enthusiasm. I introduce an extract from 
the speech of Mr. J. II. Boalt, the orator of the day : 

"It seems appropriate, that a moimtain like this should perpetuate 
the name of one whose unblazoned deeds would put to shame the 
easily acquired glory of many whose names stand first upon the scroll 
of fame. Long time ago, not far from the base of this mountain, the 
first settler in these parts, assisted by only three others, maintained an 
obstinate and successful resistance against one hundred times their 
number of Canadian Indians, thereby preventing, in all human proba 
bility, the massacre of hundreds of their fellow-countrymen, in a 


similar state of undefcnce. It is time that this valiant act, whose 
equal we make bold to say does not exist within the recollection of 
man, not even excepting the case of Leonidas and the Persians, it is 
time that this noble deed of self-relying courage, \vhich has too long 
slept, unnoticed and unsung, should receive from us a fitting testimo 
nial. Let us, then, honor this neglected hero with a monument which 
the proudest might envy. Yes, the very trees bow their acquiescence 
in this new title to their ancient home, which by the authority and in 
the name of the Class of 1857, I do hereby denominate MT. KILBURN. 
And although the torrents of rain which have recently fallen, are not 
usually considered as of go-od omen, I can see in them but another 
manifestation of the ever kind hand of nature, who is unwilling that 
her mountain should receive its new name without a clean face." 

Kilburn was aided in his extraordinary defence of his home 
by a hired man whose name was Peak. It did not occur to 
the Class till after their return, that his name might be 
united with that of Kilburn, as I have done at the head 
of this article. Peak was wounded in the contest and having 
no surgical aid he died in a few days, an additional reason 
for associating his name with that of Kilburn in the desig 
nation of the mountain. 


The Class of 1860 took this rocky ridge in hand and 
named it in October, 1859, when the forests were glowing 
with autumnal hues. 

The usual variety of dramatis personse was introduced, 
with songs and a poem. The clown was there, also a Pro 
fessor from the University of Oxford, who talked in Cockney 
style ; also an able geological address by Mr. C. E. Dickinson, 
an eloquent oration by N. Mighill, who made good use of the 
historical reminiscences awakened on a spot overlooking Deer- 
field and Turner s Falls. The poem of the occasion was 
delivered by G. L. Goodale, and was entitled " The Legend 
of St. Regis Bell," said bell having been carried by the 
Indians who destroyed Deerfield, to St. Regis, in Canada. 
There was also a " Scientific Report" of a Special Committee 


on the Geological formation of Nutonk. In short, the literary 
exercises of the occasion were unusually full and interesting. 
I have room to make but a few extracts : 


Presented to the Class of 1860, by the " Special Committee." 


AIR "A little more Cider too." 
The Geologists among us, 
Having made a full survey, 

With due consideration, 
Offer this report to-day ; 
" This formation s rather ancient, 
But how ancient we can t tell, 

Since, alas, we have forgotten, 
* The calculus of Snell. 

"But judging from the looks, 

And what we have been told, 
We have come to the conclusion 

Mount Nutonk is pretty old. 
And as to its formation, 

It is made of soil and stone, 
But what that rock and soil may be, 

Your Committee haven t known. 

" We think Oolitic poultry, 

And sand-stone barnyard fowl 
Once roosted in that old tree, 

Where mountain whirlwinds howl. 
We also think that the mountain top, 

Which they call the poet s seat, 
Was the place where Ichthiosaurians 

In council used to meet. 

" And here upon their hand-sleds 
These ancient creatures sat, 

And coasted down the hill-side, 
And many a bump they gat. 

On the river s side below us, 
These ancient creatures landed, 

And there their foot-steps now are seen 
In the metamorphic sand-bed. 


" And the striae that folks talk about, 

Were made by their old sleds. 
But other notions than the true, 

Fill Geologic heads. 
We give these facts advisedly, 

Although our chairman states, 
These lines were probably the marks 

Of Brontozoic skates ! 

" You ll notice that the rock up here, 

Is as hard as the Koh-i-nohr; 
We account for this phenomenon, 

All unexplained before. 
Once on a New Year s evening, 

(It may seem somewhat queer,) 
The Ornothichnites had a ball 

And danced till daylight here. 

" When morning came, the ground was hard 

As a marble dancing floor, 
And the bowlders, metamorphosed now, 

Were the jewels that they wore! 
These facts can be relied upon, 

For truth can never fail, 
And if you doubt it, we would point 

To the Megatherium s tale. 

" This tale was printed long ago, 

By Mastodon & Son, 
Twas read in Pre-Adamic Schools, 

And had an awful run. 
Should you ask us how we know of things 

From others so aloof 
By the kindness of the publishers, 

We examined all the proof. 

" Submit we now this full Report, 

Of your profound Committee, 
If we ve developed no new facts, 

We think it is a pity. 
Let no one doubt these honest truths 

We faithfully have given, 
Of the days when mammoth pachyderms 

Breathed here the air of Heaven." 

For some reason, I never knew what, the name of Nutonk 
did not strike the people of Greenfield favorably, and it is not 

EOLUS. 261 

probable that it will ever be extensively adopted, although I 
cannot see why it has not all the characteristics of a good 
name short, euphonical, Indian, poetical. But it is useless 
to reason against sentiment. Had I known that " Poet s 
Seat " had been used sometimes as the name of this rocky 
ridge, I should have advised the Class to christen it Hiawatha, 
which I think would have been more acceptable, and which I 
therefore prefix to this account, as a synonym to Nutonk. 

31. EOLUS. 

This lofty mountain, 2,468 feet above the village of East 
Dorset, in Vermont, and 3,148 above the ocean, was named 
in the autumn of 1860, by the Class of 1861. Most of its 
lower part, to the height of 1,970 feet, is composed of nearly 
horizontal layers of white and gray limestone, capped by 
about oOO feet of talcoid schist. At the height of 1,750 feet 
is an extensive cavern in the limestone, probably once the bed 
of a stream. It was not the main object of an excursion 
so far from Amherst to name this mountain, but rather to 
aid me in measuring a section across the Green Mountains 
and to visit the gold region of Plymouth. But the tempta 
tions to christen such a magnificent mountain was too strong 
to be resisted, although it involved a night-ride in the cars. 
It proved to be perhaps the most successful effort of this kind 
ever attempted by the Classes at Amherst. A description of 
the trip, by one of the party, follows : 

"Leaving Rutland about one o clock, Saturday morning, we made our 
way as speedily as possible, on the Western Vermont Railroad, towards 
the little village of East Dorset. Time and language would fail to de 
scribe the feelings and postures of our company as we proceeded. Some, 
desirous to sleep, were coiled up like a chicken in an egg shell ; 
others, fearful of being carried too far, were using the few energies 
of life remaining to keep themselves and others awake. Turkeys 
never went to roost more gladly than the Seniors sought their beds 
in the hotel. Some, however, had to abide in the manger, for there 
was no room for them in the inn. Morning came very early in East 
Dorset ; and after a short but wholesome breakfast, we screwed up 


our courage for the ascent of the mountain, which rose nearly three 
thousand feet above us. This mountain has hitherto gone by the name 
of Dorset Mountain, which is no name at all, as there are more moun 
tains than one in Dorset ; and it seemed good to us to append a name 
which might be called its own. And for that reason we ascended its 
steep marble sides. After climbing nearly half its height, we came 
to the marble quarries of Messrs. Holley, Field & Kent, where is 
obtained stone which rivals the Carrara, and goes by the name of 
the Vermont Italian. It has, more clearly than any other Ameri 
can marble, the metallic ring so peculiar to the best Italian marbles. 
It is very hard, containing a large per cent, of silica, and is conse 
quently very durable. The strata lie in a horizontal position, which 
is different from that of the strata in the neighboring mountains, and 
implies a different formation. It is quite evident that the mountain 
was forced up into its present position by lateral pressure. Leaving 
the quarries, we ascended to within about seven or eight hundred feet 
of the summit, where we found a sort of table ground and an enor 
mous cave in the solid marble. It was here proposed to take a stand 
and shoulder the responsibility of godfather to this mountain. When 
all had arrived, and order was restored, Mr. C. H. Hitchcock com 
menced the services of christening, with a few brief remarks relative 
to the birth, growth and maturity of the mountain, mentioning also 
the brotherhood of mountains for which Amherst boys had become 
the sponsors. Then with his geological hammer, he broke the bottle 
he held in his hand, (thereby reminding us of Gideon and his troop,) 
and the mountain was christened with the sprinkling of water, which 
flowed from its own marble heart, MOUNT EOLUS. 

"After this ceremony, Mr. Field, who accompanied the Class up 
the mountain, made a brief address, stating his pleasure in the occa 
sion, and his conviction that the name would be a permanent one. 

"A striking little episode next followed, in which four personifica 
tions of the winds came blowing and whirling among the crowd, 
enough to make us all shiver. It is needless to state that the most 
gaseous personages in the Class were selected for this purpose. 

" A poem was then read by one of the number, giving some sketch 
of the life of the winds, and their keeper, Eolus. We have not been 
able to obtain a line of this for publication. 

"After the poem, an ode written by W. M. Pomoroy was sung, to 
the good old air of Mt. Pisgah. The cold mountain air rung well 
as the song came out. 

"The ceremonies of christening over, we proceeded to enter the 
cave, with candles in hand, and cautious feet beneath. Down, down 

EOLUS. 263 

we went into the marble bowels of the mountain, and nobody knows 
how far we might have gone, had time or courage permitted. We 
made the cavern ring Math our songs, and sundry jokes made our 
voices ring with laughter, till we were obliged to make our way out 
and down the mountain. 

" Perhaps it would be well to state our reasons for giving the name 
of Eolus to the mountain. It is a fact that in some kinds of weather 
air is perceived to blow from the cave, and it is very easy to under 
stand how we found here a resemblance to the cave in which the 
ancient Eolus kept the winds restrained, or sent them out at his 
pleasure. Homer makes the winds to have had their residence in 
Thrace, if we havn t forgotten our Greek, and Prof. Tyler says 
Thrace is any rough, hilly country ; hence it is easy for us to establish 
our theory, for no certain knowledge ever prevailed but that this was 
the mountain, and this the cave, in our New England Thrace, where 
Eolus kept the winds, or sent them out by the stroke of his inverted 

" Equinox is a mountain in full view from Eolus, and is said to 
have been so named from its being covered with clouds at the time 
of the Equinoxes. In order that Eolus might receive a recognition 
from its nearest neighbor, it was voted to give him a letter of introduc 
tion to Equinox. 

"Nearly east of Eolus is Mt. Stratton, one of the Green Mountain 
range, on which, in 1840, was held the greatest political gathering 
ever held in Vermont ; Webster was present, and so great was the 
enthusiasm that the people camped out over night. 

"On arriving at the foot of the mountain, we learned that our 
expenses in East Dorset were nothing to us, for which we heartily 
thanked the people, and cheered them, though not half so well as 
their kindness cheered us. By the kindness of Mr. Field, we were 
allowed to bring away fine specimens of the Eolian marble. 

"Through the same gentleman, we received a very kind invitation 
from Mr. Orvis, of the Equinox House, in Manchester, to spend the 
Sabbath with him as his guests. We returned sincere thanks for his 
kindness, and regretted that duty should call us another way. The 
temptation to stay away another day from our Alma Mater was great, 
but we s resisted. Mr. Field kindly offered to have the following 
engraved in the marble over the mouth of the cave : 


Class of 1861, Amherst College. 
October 13th, 1860, A. D. 


At length, after a farewell shout for Eolus and Dorset, we entered 
the cars and started for home. We returned to Amherst very weary, 
but satisfied that we never had a more glorious time." 

These are not as large as in some parts of the country, but 
they afford interesting examples of drift agency, and are quite 
large enough to be admitted into the Bowlder Family, which 
of late years is attracting the attention not only of scientific 
men, but of all persons of taste. Every one of them of much 
size should receive a good name, as a means of drawing the 
attention of tourists and others to them. The three first of 
the following were named by the Class of 1862, in the autumn 
of 1861 ; to the three others I venture to propose names, 
without consulting others : 


This is an irregular mass of the coarse conglomerate of Metta- 
wompe, weighing nearly one hundred tons, torn off hy the drift 
agency and carried over Mount Aquilo and lodged on the gneiss 
rock of Fclham Hill in the bed of a large brook close by a small 
cascade, where it was pointed out to me by Mr. Newall, in a very 
retired and romantic spot, but which few men would have found. 
The great difference between the bowlder and subjacent rock marks 
it distinctly as a foreigner, and one is sure who knows any thing 
of the geology of the surrounding region from whence it came. It 
is a fine place for picnics and other gatherings, situated as it is in a 
dense pine grove. 


Near the top of Mount Warner, a little east of the summit, and in 
the cleared pasture, lies a large bowlder of imperfectly prismatic 
trap or greenstone. Its weight we estimated at seventy-eight tons. 
The rock of the mountain is granite and mica schist, and no trap in 
place is found to the north till we reach the north part of Sunderland 
and the south part of Deerfield, say some ten miles distant. From 
that range this bowlder undoubtedly came, though we cannot say 
how far southerly the sheet of trap once extended, since the amount 
of erosion in this Valley must have been very great. The Class, 
with a few ceremonies, imposed on it the scriptural name of OREB. 



North-west of Rock Oreb, say a quarter of a mile in the woods, 
and far down the north-west slope of the mountain, is another and 
larger bowlder of the same variety of trap, which on the same day 
the Class found and called it ROCK ETAM, which in Palestine was once 
the resort of Samson. We estimated the weight of the Hadley 
Etam to be three hundred and eighty-five tons. Its origin is doubt 
less the same as that of Oreb. 


At the western foot of the steep part of Holyoke, and a little north 
of the place where the railroad goes up the hill, lies a large bowlder 
of trap precisely like those just described on Mount Warner. It is 
fifteen feet high, and by a loose estimate I think it must weigh 
three hundred tons. It is remarkable for exhibiting on its north face 
a vast number of magnetic poles sufficiently strong completely to 
invert a common magnetic needle forming in fact several continuous 
lines of poles. I spent some days, several years ago, in tracing them 
out. These facts furnish a reason for the name which I venture to 
propose for this bowlder, viz. : the MAGNET. I formerly supposed 
that it had been broken off from the trap ledges immediately above 
it. But its exact correspondence with Oreb and Etam in characters, 
and want of resemblance to the trap of Holyoke, make it more prob 
able that it was brought into its present position by drift agency, and 
originated in the same region as those on Warner. 


As we ascend Mount Boreas looking northerly up the Valley on 
its east side, once the bed of Connecticut River, we see a prominent 
bowlder lying near the base. We find it to be composed of gneiss, 
and lying upon gneiss, although the stratification in both is very 
indistinct. It weighs something less, perhaps, than two hundred 
tons, although not accurately measured. As it seems to stand as a 
sentinel to guard the narrow pass east of Boreas, I have ventured to 
designate it by that name. 


Some years ago a bowlder of several tons weight, capable of being 
rocked a little by one man, lay on a farm then owned by Mr. Grout, 
about a mile north of Pelham Centre, on the road to Shutesbury. I 
presume it is still there, and though not a remarkable example of 
this phenomenon, it may be worth visiting. 


The greatest defect in the scenery immediately around 
Amherst is the want of any large bodies of water. Connect 
icut River is indeed visible in some places, but it is rather 
too far from the Colleges to be a striking feature in the 
landscape. There are, indeed, some fine cataracts on Con 
necticut and Deerfield Rivers, though at such a distance 
that to visit them will occupy nearly a day. But I will 
first describe a few water scenes nearer to the College. 

38. THE lo. 

I have already alluded to a small stream that comes down 
from Pelham, past the Hygeian Springs and Mount Hygeia, 
and along which are some beautiful cascades and gorges. 
Another branch, coming from Mount Boreas, unites with 
that from Pelham and the stream passes obliquely across 
Amherst and Hadley and empties into the Connecticut at 
the foot of Mount Holyoke. In Hadley it has been called 
Fort River. But as it passes along the southern base of 
College Hill for two miles, and is not more than half a 
mile distant from the buildings, and is moreover quite a 
place of resort in summer for bathing, it has seemed to me 
that a classical name should be attached to it. It is nearly 
as large as the Isis and the Cam, so intimately associated 
with the English Universities at Oxford and Cambridge, 
and I presume to propose for our river the name of lo. This, 
according to heathen mythology, was the name of a daughter 
of the king of Argos, who was transformed into a cow, and 
wandering over the . earth came to Egypt and was changed 
back again into a woman, and became the wife of Osiris, and 
afterwards the Egyptian goddess Isis. The Oxford Univer 
sity has chosen the latter name for their classic stream. For 
one, I prefer the name which the virgin daughter bore before 
she was transformed into q, cow or a goddess. 

I propose to designate that branch of the lo which comes 
down from Mount Boreas, the Itoreal Branch, and that which 


comes in from Pelham, past the Hygeian Springs, Amethyst 
Brook : for along its rocky bed Mr. Newall has found hundreds 
of beautiful amethysts, some of them more than an inch in 
diameter and of delicate color. It is the finest locality that 
I know of in New England. And besides, should a path be 
made along its banks before the forest is cut down by vandal 
hands, it would open very romantic scenery, deserving a name 
as rich as that of Amethyst Brook. 


Between the east end of the Holyoke range and the gneiss 
hills of Belchertown is a narrow valley, in which is situated 
three ponds connected by a brook and thus forming a chain 
of ponds. Hence the name which I propose for them. They 
are not large, yet a sail upon them is pleasant, especially to 
the botanist in summer, who will find here many rare plants* 
In the most southerly pond a boat is usually kept. 

There are two outlets to these ponds : the most southerly 
empties into the small stream that runs along the south border 
of the Holyoke range and flows into the Connecticut in 
South Hadley ; the most northerly was connected a few years 
since, by an outlet, with the lo in Amherst. Hence the 
entire Holyoke range is an island, although few probably are 
aware of it. 

These ponds show very well from the Orient Crest, as I 
have already mentioned. 


This body of water lies in the north-east part of Leverett 
and the north-west part of Shutesbury, extending also into 
Wendell, and goes by the name of Lock s Pond, and being 
the largest sheet of water in the region, and having around 
it some terraces, I propose for it the name of Terrace Lake. 
The western shore is very pleasant, and I believe there is a 
hotel on that side. It may be half a mile across, and a boat 
excursion over it is very attractive. Quite a stream issues 


from its west side, which passes through the centre of Mon 
tague and thence into the Connecticut, where it is called Saw 

Mill River. 


These are on Connecticut River, near the point where the 
towns of Montague, Gill and Greenfield meet. They are 
the most interesting water fall in the State, and as far as 
my knowledge extends, in New England. The river here 
is over 1,000 feet broad, and an artificial dam is erected at 
the Falls more than thirty feet high, resting near the centre 
upon two small, picturesque islands, so that the whole fall, seen 
from the north shore, towards Greenfield, where is the best 
view, presents us with a Niagara in miniature; nor is it a 
small miniature. The surrounding country, too, is more 
romantic than round Niagara, and the stream, for a mile 
or two, goes tumbling down rapids too steep for a canoe, 
bounded on the west by the almost perpendicular wall of 
Hiawatha (Nutonk.) Above the Falls, the water for nearly 
three miles is as quiet as a lake, and admirable for a boat 
excursion through an almost unsettled region. A magnifi 
cent geological section also is opened all along the river, 
especially near the Falls. 

But I cannot give the details of this spot. I will only add that 
on the north-east bank, just above the cataract, rises a small 
sandy hill, which was the seat of a terrible defeat of a party of 
King Philip s Indians, as much as one hundred and ninety years 
ago, by Captain Turner, from Boston. But subsequently, the 
same Indians drew him into an ambush and killed him and thirty- 
seven of his party. On this account, nearly forty years ago, in 
an account of the geology of the Connecticut, I proposed to 
attach Captain Turner s name to this cataract. This was my 
first attempt to attach a name to the scenery of this Valley, and 
it Avas successful ; for the name of Turner is now attached to 
these Falls without any exceptions. In my Reports on the 
Geology of Massachusetts, in 1830, 1835, and 1840, I gave a 
sketch of these Falls, made by Mrs. Hitchcock. As early as 


1818, also, she sketched the spot, which was published in Phi 
ladelphia, with a description in a periodical called the " Port 
Folio." This was before any name was attached to the Falls. 
This spot is less than twenty miles from Amherst, over a 
romantic road, and the trip can be taken in a day. The rail 
road through Greenfield, however, has rendered the canal for 
which this dam was built nearly useless ; and when the dam 
shall decay, there is no prospect that it will ever be rebuilt 
until a real city shall be built to the south of it where now are 
a few houses called a city, as I doubt not will be done hereafter. 
If not, this spot will lose most of its scenographic interest. 


These are within a day s ride of Amherst, through Conway, 
and therefore I name them. They are in the south-west part 
of Shelburne, at the head of what has been called the Ghor. 
A large and flourishing town has risen around them, for the 
water-power is prodigious. But they can never cease to be an 
object of deep scenograplu c interest, as indeed is the whole 
country around. "When the railroad is completed through the 
Ghor, it will furnish a romantic ride. 

A few years since the falls in Connecticut River, between 
South Hadley Canal and Holyoke, were little more than rapids. 
But in order to build up Holyoke, it was*necessary to erect a 
strong and elevated dam, and now the cataract is grand. But 
it has one peculiar feature that gives it special interest. It 
has long been known that some dams show a decided vibration 
in the descending sheet of water. Here it is on a broader 
scale, and more striking than I have ever seen. Standing at 
the end and partly behind the sheet, and a strong unsteady 
current of air rushes out, and you see the movement of the 
water outward and inward in pulsations. But I once looked 
at this fall about ten o clock in the morning of a clear day, from 
the road to Williamanset on the bank, nearly a mile east of 
the fall, and at a time when the vibrations were in full play, 


for they are so only at certain stages of the water. The view 
was intensely interesting ; for as the successive waves of vibra 
tion rushed across the river, the flashes of reflected light seemed 
like the sudden lighting up and extinguishing of hundreds of 
gas-lights along a street in the city. It was one of those 
unique and brilliant spectacles which I never expect to meet 
more than once or twice in a long life, and I have not met 
with any one else who ever saw it. Prof. Snell, however, has 
studied the phenomena of the vibration very attentively, and, 
as I think, has hit upon their true explication. But there is 
not time to explain his views, which, however, may be found 
in the " American Journal of Science." 

Three miles north of Sunderland Village, on the west side 
of Mettawompe, is a cavern produced by erosion and fracture. 
It is fifty-six feet deep and one hundred and forty-eight feet 
long, and well worth visiting, and not unworthy, perhaps, the 
name of Adullam. 


Connected as I have been for nearly forty years with the 
geological department of the College, it would be strange if the 
geology of the surrounding region should not be among my 
most vivid reminiscences. Yet as a matter of fact, I never till 
two years since undertook so to study the rocks in our imme 
diate vicinity as to be able to map them accurately. And I 
found it a more difficult matter than I had supposed, and more 
interesting. The difficulty is, that most of the surface in 
Amherst is overlaid by loose materials, worn off from the solid 
ledges, and such as are generally regarded as no rocks at all 
but only soils. The underlying ledges exhibit only the rem 
nants of formations once quite extensive. Geologists have 
been in the habit of extending these underlying patches which 
only occasionally protrude through the sand and gravel till they 
meet upon their maps, and leaving off the unconsolidated 

ROCKS. 271 

strata. The consequence is, that their maps have only a slight 
resemblance to the actual state of things on the surface. Last 
year I tried to remedy this defect by making a map of the 
geology just as it is. And this makes the largest part to 
belong to what I call Surface Geology that is, the geology of 
the unconsolidated strata, embracing many distinct varieties of 
formation. This map I have reduced, and annex hereto. Its 
chief object is to show what facilities there are in the vicinity 
of the College for the study of geology, and thus furnish those 
who wander over the surface with an additional reason for 
their perambulations in the knowledge they will acquire of this 
science. My description of the different formations will be 
brief. I follow the order designated by the tablets on the map. 


This well known rock occupies the range of hills on the east 
of Amherst, known as the Pelham and Belchertown and 
Shutesbury Hills. Indeed, the same range can be traced from 
Long Island Sound to Canada with essentially the same rock. 
Against Amherst its dip is generally to the west, though as we 
go east we cross anticlinals and synclinals ; for this rock 
extends east as far as Worcester, and recurs again beyond, 
occupying in fact a large part of New England. It furnishes 
fine building materials, the quarries of Pelham yielding the 
best in the county. 


This is a modification of gneiss by taking hornblende into 
the composition. Only a narrow strip of it occurs in the west 
part of Belchertown, and is not well characterized. 

A bed of impure white limestone just shows itself a little 
south-east of the middle of Belchertown, in the gneiss. It is 
so limited as hardly to be deserving of notice. 

A small bed of imperfect serpentine, apparently intermediate 
between steatite and serpentine, or rather perhaps a mixture 


of the two, occurs in the south-west part of Pelham, along the 
Orient Crest. It is a bed in gneiss, and seems to be in a 
curious stage of metamorphism. Some might call it soapstone. 


I unite these distinct rocks on the map because they are 
blended so intricately in nature that they cannot be separately 
represented with any approach to the truth. In some spots 
the one will prevail over a considerable space, and then the 
other ; again, the two will be so mixed together, that long labor 
alone could delineate them over only a few square rods. The 
granite is coarse and well characterized, but almost useless for 
architectural purposes. The schist is imperfectly foliated and 
stratified, and abounds in quartz. The dip and strikes are not 
veiy distinct ; but predominantly I think the former rather 
large towards the east, and the latter northerly and southerly. 
In some places the granite seems to have been thrust into the 
slate as enormous veins, and I can hardly doubt that it is an 
intrusive granite, though it seems in some places to have been 
metamorphosed from the schist. 

These rocks are well exhibited on Mount Warner, where 
the granite predominates. The ridge running through nearly 
the whole of Amherst I think is underlaid by them, though 
they appear through the gravel only occasionally near the 
middle of the town, but at the extremities very abundantly. 
They occupy also a considerable part of Leverett. 

I used to suppose that these rocks constituted the metamor- 
phic border of the Pelham gneiss. But I think them, after 
examination, entirely distinct, and I suspect the granite and 
schist to be the oldest and to underlie the gneiss. But I have 
as yet found only a few places of junction. At Adam s Saw 
Mill, in Shntesbury, is, I think, the best place of this kind 
which I have found, and here the rocks at the place of con 
tact seem to be so metamorphosed, and to have so lost their 
stratification, that it is difficult to settle their relative position ; 
and so all along through the valley of East Street, where, 


according to the dip of the gneiss and schist, the two rocks 
ought to come together, the junction is hidden by modified 
drift. It may be looked for, perhaps successfully, south of the 
Holyoke range, in Ludlow, &c., or north in Leverett. These 
researches may, I think, bring out interesting results concern 
ing the rocks of New England. I think this peculiar forma 
tion extends south-westerly across the Connecticut Valley, and 
shows itself in the similar granite and schist that embrace the 
lead and copper veins of North, East, and Southampton, also 
on the north the lead and copper of Leverett. It may turn 
out to be a highly metalliferous formation. 


This is only a variety of granite that takes hornblende into 
its composition. I think, however, that it differs from many 
granites in being never intrusive, like them, but metamorphic, 
and therefore never has been melted, properly speaking, but 
softened by hot water. It occurs in the south part of Belcher- 
town and extends southerly into Ludlow, beyond the map., 
It occurs also in the north-west part of Northampton exten 
sively developed. 


Two distinct varieties of trap rock around Amherst have 
received the name, and, until farther investigations, must be 
called Greenstone. One variety forms dikes of all sizes in 
gneiss in the west part of Pelham. Some of these dikes are 
as thin as paper, as may be seen in specimens in front of the 
Woods Cabinet ; others in Pelham are some rods in thickness. 
The thicker ones lead to the conclusion that they were filled 
by matter in a melted state, but the thin ones could not surely 
have been injected into crevices so thin, and therefore probably 
hot water was the medium of their introduction, and if of 
these, probably also, to some extent, of the wide ones. This 
variety of trap is usually crystalline, or at least compact, but 
never vesicular. I have marked on the map only two strips. 


Along the west part of Pclham, though, I suspect other distinct 

The other variety of Greenstone is that associated with the 
red and gray sandstone of the valley. Holyoke and Tom 
constitute its largest masses, and these show sandstone dipping 
south-easterly under them, at a considerable angle, and similar 
rock lying above them on the south-east side. In some places, 
also, the sandstone passes across the trap, but its mode of 
interstratification has never been satisfactorily ascertained. 

Another belt of similar trap commences a little west of 
Long Plain, in Leverett, and passing over the south part of 
Mount Taurus, apparently lying conformably between the 
strata of sandstone, extends into the north part of Sunder- 
land, where, about a mile north of the village, it crosses 
Connecticut River and extends on its west side through 
Greenfield, constituting Mount Hiawatha, to Turner s Falls, 
and so on into Gill. This bed increases in width, appa 
rently, as we go north. Like Holyoke and Tom, this trap 
is sometimes a little crystalline, often compact, in several 
places columnar, often vesicular, so as greatly to resemble 
modern lava, disintegrated often, so as to form a kind of 
trass or puzzolana. From its southern part, at least, this 
Sunderland range of trap has suffered great erosions, and 
the trap bowlders on Mount Warner, already described, are, 
doubtless, fragments of it. 

This rock is made up of rounded fragments of trap, sand 
stone, &c., with a cement of the same comminuted. It seems 
to have been formed by the overflow of lava upon the sandy 
and gravelly bottom of the ocean. Occasionally we meet with 
masses of vesicular, or even compact trap, probably where 
the overflow was the thickest. This deposit occurs along the 
southern foot of Holyoke, and extends southerly along the 
east flank of Tom, at least as far as West Springfield. 



This rock occupies the floor of the Connecticut Valley, and 
rises into mountains in Sugar-Loaf and Mettawarape. It varies 
exceedingly in color and the size of its constituents. Much of 
it is red, some gray, and some white. It passes from the finest 
shale to conglomerates so coarse, that I have seen fragments 
in it seven feet in diameter, as in a ledge at the south end of 
the village in Montague. This coarse conglomerate, or rather 
breccia, forms most of the upper part of Mettawompe. Inter- 
stratified with it, however, we find sometimes quite fine shale, 
showing a strange alternation of quiet and turbulent waters. 

I separate the sandstones that dip under the trap ranges 
from those that lie above them. Probably they are different 
formations. Their differences I have pointed out in my Ich- 
nology. The famous fossil footmarks are confined almost 
exclusively to the overlaying sandstones. Excepting on the 
south side of Holyoke in South Hadley, and beneath Mount 
Holyoke, these fossils have not been found in the region of 
the map. 

So distinctly marked are the external characters of the 
sandstone below the trap, that to a practiced eye these are 
sufficient to determine its place where the trap is absent. 
Tims the red disintegrating sandstone that shows itself occa 
sionally in Amherst unquestionably belongs to the lower group, 
although there is no greenstone near. It has a moderate 
easterly dip all along the east slope, between the west and 
east villages, the same, though not as large, as the mica schist 
on which it lies. These facts have led me to the conclusion 
that an Artesian boring along that slope may possibly be 
successful in bringing water to the surface ; though I cannot 
say how near the crest of the bill we might hope for such a 
result; perhaps not so far as the west village, though if it 
should be ascertained that the ridge is underlaid by granite 

* Above the trap, 9 ; below the trap, 10. 


and schist, as I suspect, an Artesian well might not be impos 
sible even upon the Common.* 

11. DRIFT. 

Although unmodified drift occurs over most of the more 
hilly parts of the map, I have marked it only in two places 
where it is most abundant, viz., in the northern part of Pel- 
ham, in the valley of Mount Hygeia, and in Granby, towards 
its east side. Modified drift covers most of the lower regions, 
and is described under the following varieties. For a full 
description of them I refer to my Illustrations of Surface 


I have marked only one Old Sea Beach on the map, along 
the western slope of Pelham hills, near the top, sending off a 
branch to curve around the south slope of Hygeia. I think 
that the marks of oceanic action may be seen along that ridge 
as a shore, in ridges of gravel and sand, though other places, 
at various altitudes, also look like old beaches, especially 
among the old sea bottoms. 


It will, be seen that a large part of Amherst, as well as 
South Hadley, Granby and Hadley, is represented as covered 
by this deposit, consisting of undulating deposits of sand and 
gravel, which were certainly left by water, and which look 
like sea bottoms. The waters may have been fresh, but most 
likely were those of an estuary. 


These curious deposits of gravel and sand, to which I have 
never been able to give an appropriate name, show themselves 
in a good deal of perfection at a moderate elevation along 
the western side of the Pelham hills. Some small ones 

* Mr. Hills bored through the sandstone at his new house, and the 
water rose so as to form a good well, though it did not rise to the 


exist a little north-east of Mount Boreas, in the valley; 
but they are larger in the vicinity of the Orient House, and 
best of all a mile or two farther south, where is at least one 
quite elevated gravel ridge analogous to the Horsebacks of 
Maine, and exceedingly difficult to account for. The rounded 
elevations I have supposed the result of stranded icebergs 
among which currents had introduced the gravel, which upon 
the melting of the bergs took the peculiar form of the Moraine 


These are accumulations of sand and gravel, which some 
former stream had urged forward to its mouth and deposited 
along the shore of the lake, estuary, or the ocean in this case 
I think it was an estuary ; and I think we have one marked 
example in that broad strip of gravel on Long Plain, in Leverett, 
which becomes finer as we go south, and terminates in a steep 
escarpment of coarse sand in the Plum Trees in Sunderland. 
How clear that this was brought down by the stream that 
once ran southerly on the east side of Mettawompe. Even 
the lateral terraces of that stream remain where it issued from 
the rocky gorge. 


Terraces are usually fuller about gorges than in the more 
open country. Such a terrace appears to me to exist in that 
high bank of gravel a little south of Titan s Pier, in South 


These are the most common of all the varieties. They 
occur on a broad scale along the Connecticut and other exist 
ing streams, as well as on the sides of old abandoned river 
beds. Along Amethyst Brook, in Pelham and Amherst, I 
have described and sketched in my Illustrations of Surface 
Geology over twenty terraces, extending to the height of 
several hundred feet, though they are a good deal obscured 
at present by forests and dwellings. But I have traced them 
out with a levelling instrument. 



These are sand hills movable by the winds. "We have one 
or two not bad examples in Hadley, occurring in the principal 
lateral terrace of the Connecticut east of the villages of 
Hadley and North Hadley. That which may be seen near the 
road from Hadley to Amherst is the best. As you ascend the 
first sand hill or terrace, if you turn to the right into the 
fields you will find the sand torn up by the prevalent north 
west wind and driven south-easterly till within eighty rods of 
the road it reaches the lo, and forms a steep escarpment and 
seems to be gradually crowding the river out of its bed and 
piling up sand around the trees. 


In the slow drainage of this Valley the retiring waters, 
which seem always to have had a southerly current, would 
find different beds at successive levels. These old beds can 
generally be traced out without much difficulty by the gorges 
and terraces, and sometimes potholes, which they have left. 
I have already mentioned one as manifest along the east side 
of Leverett, thence past Mount Boreas through East Amherst 
and the Belchertown Chain Ponds, thence south-westerly 
through South Hadley. Another can be traced very distinctly 
along the east side of Mettawompe as far as the Plum Trees 
in Sunderland, where it coalesces with the deepest part of the 
Valley. A third at a lower level starts from the present 
Connecticut a little north of Sunderland village, passes east 
of it and proceeds to Amherst, so as to go through the Valley 
between College Hill and Mount Warner, and thence striking 
south-westerly joins the present bed at the foot of Holyoke, 
where the lo debouches. So that it is proper to say that the 
Connecticut River once ran east of the site of the Colleges, 
and still later between them and Hadley. The different 
streams also frequently inosculated, as may be seen on the 
map, and the hills formed islands. Thus at least two old 
water courses can be traced across the south part of Amherst, 


and one along the south base of Holyoke in South Hadley, 
where a small stream now runs. 

At Shelburne Falls is an old river bed where potholes of 
considerable depth are visible. I have never seen any in the 
vicinity of Amherst. 

The tracing out of old river beds is a subject that has not 
much engaged the attention of geologists. But it seems to me 
to be a very rich field of research. 


I include under this term only those deposits that are now 
being formed by water and other agencies on the surface. 
The rich intervals along the Connecticut are the only examples 
large enough to be represented on the map, although on a 
small scale they are presented on every brook. 


Under this head I have merely pointed out the localities of 
the six bowlders large enough to receive distinct names that 
have been already described. 


Two or three of these occur in the north part of Leverett, 
in that peculiar formation of granite and mica schist already 
described. The gangue is often sulphate of baryta, which is 
itself perhaps more valuable than the metals. These veins 
may prove of great richness, when fully explored. 

I have already mentioned a fine locality of amethysts in 
Pelham. I obtained a still larger fragment of a crystal in Lev 
erett, and probably it may prove a frequent mineral. I have 
also one or two good specimens of beryl from Pelham, and 
also of sulphuret of molybdenum. In the south part of the 
town is good crystallised quartz. As to fossils the fishes of 
Sunderland, and the footmarks of Turner s Falls, Northampton, 
and South Hadley, also the clathropteris of Easthampton, 
are of deep interest. The western hills yield several fine 


minerals, such as the crystallized spodumene of Norwich, 
the only known locality, the rose mica and beryl of Goshen, 
the tourmalines of Chesterfield, the manganese spar of Cum- 
mington, &c. 

My object in giving this brief synopsis of the geology 
around Amherst is two-fold. I wish to show what facilities 
are here afforded to such as wish to pursue that branch. 
Secondly, to put down the matured results of my examina 
tions, which I have given in no work that I have published, 
and which may afford some help to those who come after 
me. I doubt not that the students of college would say in 
view of the summary which I have presented, that I have 
opened a field wide enough for them to study, but have not 
provided them with the time to explore it. But the time 
may come when some will regard this subject important 
enough to lead them to devote to it some of their vacations, 
or a few months after they have finished their classical 




I do not propose to go into a full autobiography in this 
section ; but only quoad hoc ; hoc meaning my connection with 
the College. Whatever in my private history may account 
for my success or want of success, my fitness or unfitness for 
the positions I have occupied here, should not be withheld. 

One of these circumstances was the comparative poverty of 
my early condition. It was not absolute poverty, for my 
father moved among the most respectable of the people of 
Deerfield, where I was born, and was honored among them 
especially by being chosen deacon of the Orthodox church, of 
which he was long one of the strongest pillars. But he had 
to struggle hard with a trade not very lucrative, to feed, clothe 
and educate a large family. He had commenced his family 
career during the Revolutionary War, in which he had been 
twice engaged as a soldier, as was his father, who fell a sacri 
fice to the diseases of the camp. The debts which he contracted 
when Continental Notes were almost the only money, hung 
like an incubus upon him nearly all his life, and he was 
relieved only when his sons were old enough to aid him. But 
he was highly intellectual in his habits, and studied theology 
especially with much success. Towards the close of life, as 
but few sympathized with him in his evangelical views of 
truth, the church having passed into Unitarian hands, and 
under a Unitarian minister, he committed many of his thoughts 
to writing, and some of the essays and sermons which he left 
would do no discredit to educated clergymen. 

It cannot be doubted that such a father would do all he 
could for the education of his children. We were first carried 


thoroughly through the primary school, and then had the 
advantages of a good academy, as much as we could find time 
and means to improve. But he could go no farther with any 
of us he had three sons. And nothing was before me but a 
life of manual labor. But as I had a great aversion to being 
apprenticed to a tradesman, he did not attempt even to teach 
me his own trade, that of a hatter. Farming was the only 
resort, and I worked on the farm not on my father s, for he 
had none but on land hired by my brother I know not how 
many years. I liked the employment, but as I shall state 
more particularly in a few moments, I had acquired a strong 
relish for scientific pursuits, and I seized upon every moment 
I could secure especially rainy days and evenings for those 
studies. I was treated very leniently by my father and 
brother, who probably did not know what to do with me, but 
saw plainly that I should not become distinguished as a farmer. 
My literary taste was also greatly encouraged by a few com 
panions in Deerfield with whom I united in a society, whose 
weekly meetings we kept up for years, which had a depart 
ment for debate, and another for philosophical discussion. I 
always regarded this as one of the most important means of 
mental discipline that I ever enjoyed. 

But perhaps the most important lesson taught me by my 
straitened circumstances was habits of rigid economy. I 
learnt that these were more important than a large income. 
I learnt the value of money, and that the use of it is one of 
those talents for which we must give an account. It has 
made me ever since opposed to any useless expenditure of 
money in clothing, food, furniture, servants, equipage, journey- 
ings, &c. I have been opposed to large salaries, and am 
confident that if the truth Avere known, our public institutions, 
literary, political and religious, have the greatest real pros 
perity when their officers salaries have been low ; for the 
temptation to extravagance with an increase of means is well 
nigh irresistible. I have always felt it to be an imperious 
duty for the officers of a literary institution, which contains 


indigent young men, to set an example of plainness in dress, 
equipage and living, that they might be encouraged. In 
respect to books, apparatus and specimens, and even objects 
to improve the taste, such as paintings, statuary and vertu, I 
would counsel as large an expenditure as possible, for that is 
true economy ; and to get large sums for these and benevolent 
objects is the grand purpose of economy in personal expenses. 
But I have ever found men more ready to call your economy 
parsimonious, than to inquire into the liberality of your bene 
factions for worthy objects. 

I am bound to state that in my religious views in early life 
I did not sympathize with those of my father, but rather with 
the Unitarian notions prevalent in Deerfield. Hence, when at 
length I took up the systematic study of the ancient classics, 
I aimed to fit myself to pass through Harvard University. 
Nor was it through any voluntary agency of my own that this 
purpose was defeated and my religious views changed, but 
rather in spite of my own efforts, and in apparent opposition 
to my worldly interests. Providence first struck down my 
ability to study in a manner I shall shortly detail, and thus 
by cutting off my worldly prospects led me to inquire on what 
foundation I was building for eternity, and a prayerful study 
of the inspired volume forced me to give up inch by inch the 
ground on which I had tried to stand, and brought me into 
the belief which became cordial as soon as I understood it, of 
the plain old-fashioned doctrines of the Puritans. I was thus 
compelled to separate myself ecclesiastically from many a 
valued friend, and ever since I have felt constrained to take 
that stand in respect to many whose worldly friendship I 
highly esteem. It has been a heavy cross ; but I could not 
shrink from it with a good conscience. Hence I could enter 
with a hearty good will into any enterprise that promised to 
aid a system of truth on which my eternal hopes rest, and 
those of the whole human family. 

For the formation of a taste for science I was doubtless 
indebted to my uncle, Major-General Epaphras Hoyt, of 


Deerfield, a near neighbor. He gave the most attention to 
military science, on which he published some valuable works, 
and to which I devoted myself with considerable interest, 
especially to fortification, when from fifteen to eighteen years 
of age. But he was also deeply interested in astronomy and 
natural philosophy, and these branches became my favorites. 
The great comet of 1811, and access to some good instruments 
for observing it, belonging to Deerfield Academy, gave me a 
decided bias for astronomy. From the 7th of September, 
1811, to the 17th of December, corresponding to the appear 
ance and disappearance of the comet, I was engaged in making 
observations, not only on the comet s distances from stars, but 
on the latitude and longitude by lunar distances and eclipses 
of the sun and moon, and on the variation of the magnetic 
needle. I gave myself to this labor so assiduously that my 
health failed, and I well remember that when my physician 
was consulted he said, "I see what your difficulty is; you 
have got the comet s tail in your stomach." To reduce my 
numerous observations cost me several more months of study, 
so imperfect were the means of calculation in my hands. Yet 
I have sometimes thought, when looking over my record of 
these observations and the results, that they might almost be 
worth publication, although much inferior to similar works in 
the observatories of the present day. Indeed, General Hoyt, 
under whose direction I labored, and who often aided me in 
observations, communicated some of them to the American 
Academy of Arts and Sciences, and they were published by 
that society. But I experienced great benefit from the work, 
in the mental discipline it required, and I acquired a strong 
love for theoretical and practical astronomy. I became, in 
fact, such an enthusiast in this respect, that I could cheer 
fully forgo every ordinary source of pleasure sought after by 
young men, in order to gratify this scientific passion. 

But I was destined to a sad disappointment in this, my first 
scientific love. I had for a considerable time been engaged in 
the study of Latin and Greek, in the hope of entering the 


University at Cambridge in advanced standing, and using my 
eyes upon Greek during an attack of the mumps, a sudden 
weakness of the eyes came on which compelled me to suspend 
nearly all study and to change the whole course of my life, 
abandoning a college course as impracticable, and for a time, 
nearly all hope of pursuing science or literature as a profes 
sion. I have now struggled with this affliction fifty years, and 
though for some time past, through the kindness of Provi 
dence, it has been much mitigated, it has seemed to be a very 
serious obstacle to my literary pursuits, and it certainly has 
produced much suffering. I am not sure, however, but it has 
been a merciful check upon my disposition to over-work, and 
thereby has tended to lengthen out my life and ability to labor. 
If so, how thankful I ought to be for it. 

But practical astronomy had to be given up. Yet it cost 
me a pang, as the following lines from a poem, which I wrote 
at the time, evince : 

How sweet, divinely sweet, is his employ, 

Who in the midnight hour, unseen by man, 

Looks with an astronomic eye on heaven ! 

Where others see a spark, he sees a sun ; 

Where wild confusion, he sweet harmony. 

And where all seems by chance, he sees a God 

A God how great, how mighty, and how good ! 

He lifts his tube, a loop-hole to the skies 

And lo, what scenes appear ! New worlds, new suna, 

These too innumerable, and to which 

A microscopic atom is the earth. 

And yet if earth is nought, how low is man, 

But still how high, to grasp such mighty scenes ! 

Sweet too it is, or by the mural arch, 
Or zenith sector, or the quadrant s limb, 
To fix the places of unnumber d stars, 
To find the planets places and their paths, 
And trace the mazes of the comet s course. 

Ah lovely scenes ! from me forever gone ! 
Fled like the transient rainbow from the clouds. 
Thou bright Arcturus, Sirius and the Lyre, 
And thou Orion, Jupiter, and Moon, 
Ye can bear witness to the many hours 
That I have spent with you; with what delight 


I saw you through the witching sextant s tubes, 
And read your altitude upon the silver arch. 
When to our sphere the glowing comet came 
A welcome visitor. But now no more 
With eager gaze I see you on the mirror s face; 
No more I watch thee, Moon, when first thy limb 
Touches the Sun ! O moment of delight 
Which I may never know again. For now 
These eyes that once could gaze on heaven untir d, 
Scarce can, endure a feeble transient glance. 

But Providence had better things in store for me in a variety 
of respects to which this trying failure of my eyes and blasting 
of my plans and hopes would introduce me. To say nothing 
of spiritual blessings, new fields of science were thus to be 
opened to me where wonders yet more attractive awaited me. 
My eyes failed in the spring of 1814, and for two years dark 
ness that might be felt rested upon my prospects. Still I could 
not give up study, and tried all manner of ways to make some 
progress. In 1816, the Trustees of Deerfield Academy ven 
tured to commit that Institution to my care, where for three 
years I labored intensely to maintain myself in spite of a 
defective education, weak eyes, and poor health. It was at 
this time that I commenced study for the Christian ministry, 
having been led by my trials to feel the infinite importance 
of eternal things, and the duty of consecrating myself to the 
promotion of God s glory and man s highest good. There too, 
at first, chiefly as a means of promoting health, my attention 
was turned to Natural History. About that time Professor 
Amos Eaton had been lecturing at Amherst, and we became 
acquainted with him, and I always regarded him as the chief 
agent of introducing a taste for these subjects into the Connec^ 
ticut Valley. Dr. Stephen W. Williams, Dr. Dennis Cooley, 
and myself, all of Deerfield, took hold of mineralogy and botany 
with great zeal. Dr. Cooley and myself collected nearly all 
the plants, phenogamous and cryptogamous in the Valley. 
Dr. Cooley became an excellent botanist, and even to a recent 
date, when he died in Michigan, has pursued the subject with 


zest. Dr. Williams afterwards became Professor of Medical 
Jurisprudence in the Berkshire Medical School. 

I well remember an incident that occurred on my first 
mineralogical excursion among the trap debris of Deerfield 
Mountain, in company with Dr. Williams. As I stopped a 
moment upon the loose fragments, Dr. W. cried out, " You 
stand upon a rattlesnake ! " Looking down, I found a spotted 
snake stretched out between two fragments on which my heel 
and toe so rested that he was not crowded, and so was not 
particularly trou^ed. I did not kill the snake, and was after 
wards led to doubt whether it was a rattlesnake. It certainly 
looked like a small one, and had upon me the same effect as if 
no doubt had subsequently arisen. But I think instead of 
leading me to abandon mineralogy, it rather quickened my love 
of excursions among the rocks. 

A leading object I had in view in commencing the study of 
natural history was its influence upon health. That same 
motive, as well as a strong love for the pursuit which I had 
acquired, led me to continue its cultivation after I was settled 
in the ministry, which took place June 21st, 1821. The 
excursions in the fields and the mountains, demanded by these 
pursuits, have ever since been with me a most important 
means of resisting the progress of disease, which early and 
incessantly has been at work in my constitution. My parish 
in Conway was a large one, and four years labor there, with 
one or two extensive revivals, brought me into such a state 
of health that I felt as if I must get released. About the 
same time the Trustees of Amherst College, knowing my 
penchant for science, appointed me Professor of Natural His 
tory and Chemistry. It seemed to me probable that the 
change, and the great amount of physical exercise requisite 
in such a professorship, might enable me to hold out a few 
years. This was all I then expected. In my request to the 
church in Conway for a dismission, I said that "the sole 
reason why I make this request is the feeble state of my 
health," and that "I do not believe it to be right, in ordinary 


cases, for a person to leave the ministry for the place of a 
professor." The Council that dismissed me say also in their 
result, that "the Council cannot feel themselves justified to 
dismiss him for the sake of a professorship at Amherst College 
or any other literary institution," but solely because " they are 
constrained to believe that his health is so seriously impaired 
as entirely to preclude all reasonable prospect of his being 
able to serve them (the people) permanently and profitably in 
the duties of the ministry." 

I was dismissed October 25th, 1825, and went to New 
Haven with Mrs. H., where I stayed till the early part of 
January, 1826, in the laboratory of Prof. Silliman, by whose 
kindness and instruction my sojourn there was made most 
profitable. I there learnt how to perform chemical experi 
ments so that they should rarely fail, and this is the grand 
secret of success in that department. The two principal rules 
for securing success were these, and I had them fixed to the 
wall of the laboratory : 

1. Never attempt an experiment in public which you have 
not within a few hours performed in private. 

2. No apology to be ever given or received by any one in 
the laboratory for a failure, but it is to be set down as detract 
ing so much from the skill of the operator. 

From 1826 to 1845 I delivered twenty full courses on 
Chemistry ; that is one to each class. 

When I joined the College in the winter of 1826, there was 
no laboratory, no philosophical cabinet, no natural history 
cabinet, and no chapel. Two dormitory buildings had been 
erected, and in the fourth story of the most northerly of these 
(the present North College South Entry) two rooms were 
thrown together, a platform built on which was placed a small 
tub-like pulpit, which could be moved off to allow the Pro 
fessor of Natural Philosophy to lecture one part of the day 
and the Professor of Chemistry the other part, taking care to 
finish before evening prayers. There I spent most of the day 
in preparation of the next morning s lecture, and I recollect 


how my risibles were tried one evening after I had been 
manipulating with chlorine during the day to hear Dr. 
Humphrey in his introductory petition, apparently unconscious 
of the odor that was in the room, which the students were 
snuffing at, pray that the Lord might smell a sweet savor 
from our offering. 

I became connected with Amherst College the same year in 
which it obtained a charter from the State legislature, so that 
my connection with it has been as long as its legal existence. 
Yet its Trustees had graduated four Classes before that time, 
viz. : in 1821, 1822, 1823 and 182 4, and I never heard any com 
plaint that their diplomas were not as good a passport to public 
confidence as any issued since. Nor did the College experi 
ence any pecuniary benefit from this recognition by the State, 
for more than twenty years. The truth is, a charter was 
obtained because the injustice of withholding it had become so 
palpable that the legislature dare not longer refuse ; and I am 
afraid that this motive has always entered largely into the 
feelings of the government towards the College. The grand 
difficulty has ever been that the College was a decidedly 
religious enterprise not in the loose sense often attached to 
that phrase, but in the very definite sense of promoting evan 
gelical religion ; and the opposition to this conjoined with that 
springing from local interests that were aifected, was generally 
sufficient to prevent a majority even of a Massachusetts legis 
lature from giving that aid and encouragement to the institution 
which the State liberality to other institutions demanded. 



On the catalogues for 1825 and 1826 my title appears as 
Professor of Natural History and Chemistry. The order of 
these subjects was changed on the subsequent catalogues, and 
continued thus till 1845. For nearly twenty years I had 
entire charge of these two wide fields, except that in 1843 
Mr. Shepard was appointed Lecturer on Agricultural Chemis- 


try and Mineralogy. But it should be recollected that these 
branches, especially natural history, thirty years ago were 
but little thought of in this country, and were in fact in com 
parative infancy. And besides, we had then next to no collec 
tions, and a leading object before me was to provide them. 
Indeed, I may state it as a general fact, that in all the subjects 
in which I have given instruction in Amherst College I have 
been obliged to provide the apparatus, models and specimens, 
sometimes with, but more often without, funds, except my 
private resources. Nevertheless, my first courses of lectures 
and recitations were nearly as extensive as they have been 
since. They averaged nearly four exercises per week, or 
about one hundred and fifty in the year. In, particular 
branches, as new instructors have been appointed, more time 
has been given. For instance, when Professor Adams took 
the department of zoology he was allowed from thirty to forty 
recitations and lectures, as was also Professor Clark, though 
for what reason I know not they have since been reduced to 
ten lectures, which is equivalent to five recitations ; for it is 
common now to put lectures in different departments side by 
side, so that two shall be equal to one recitation that is a 
half day. Even in its infant days I never gave less than 
twenty or thirty lectures on zoology say ten to fifteen on 
mammalogy, ornithology, herpetology, and ichthyology, and 
ten to fifteen on conchology and the other branches of inverte 
brate zoology ; also ten to fifteen on botany. At this day all 
those important discussions respecting the distribution of 
species, their metamorphosis, and the unity of the human 
species must require several more lectures, or it is impossible 
to teach graduates how to defend religion against the assaults 
of sceptics. 

In 1845, Professor Shepard took the same title which I 
had retained to that time, viz.. Professor of Chemistry and 
Natural History, which was changed to Massachusetts Pro 
fessor of the same, in 1847, when C. B. Adams was elected 
Professor of Astronomy and Curator of the Cabinet, which 


made him virtually, as he was made nominally, the next 
year, Professor of Zoology, which post he occupied till 1852, 
when he died. Professor Shepard, I believe, has not lectured 
on any branch of natural history, except mineralogy and 
astrolithology. I have always retained geology, but gave 
up chemistry when I took the Presidency, and my title ever 
since has been Professor of Natural Theology and Geology. 
In 1852, W. S. Clark was appointed Professor of Analyti 
cal and Applied Chemistry. To this Zoology was added in 
1853, and in 1854 to 1858 his title was Professor of Chem 
istry, Zoology and Botany. In 1858, he dropped all but 
chemistry, and that is his present title. In 1854, Professor 
Mallet took the title of Professor of Analytical and Applied 
Chemistry. In 1858, E. Tuckerman was appointed Professor 
of Botany and C. H. Hitchcock Lecturer on Zoology and 
Curator of the Cabinet. 

The title of Professor of Chemistry and Natural History, 
which I had for twenty years, conveys but an imperfect 
idea of what I attempted to teach, or rather of the grand 
object I had in view. That object was to illustrate, by the 
scientific facts which I taught, the principles of natural 
theology. This I stated at the commencement of my course 
and on other proper occasions. At length- when I became 
President, I took natural theology as the leading title of my 
professorship. And really the instruction given in the 
natural sciences in college is scarcely more often less than 
is necessary to understand their religious bearing. But this 
is their most important use, as it is of all knowledge, and this 
thought I made the basis of my Inaugural Address, when 
inducted into the Presidency. I had endeavored to act on 
this principle in all my teaching ; but now I put it into the 
form of a professorship, and a richer or nobler field 1 do not 
know in the whole circle of science. I called it a Professor 
ship of Natural Theology and Geology, adding this latter 
science because I have been in the habit of going more into 


detail concerning it, and because no science equals this in its 
religious applications. 

It was a deep conviction of the importance of such a profes 
sorship that led me to seek its endowment. The manner in 
which it was secured has already been referred to. Mr. 
"VYilliston had just agreed to endow a professorship, which 
was finally called the Graves Professorship, in honor of 
Mrs. Williston s maiden name, and he offered to give half 
enough to endow another, if some gentleman could be found 
to take the other half and proffer his name to the whole. I 
immediately communicated with Samuel A. Hitchcock, of 
Brimfield, and I merely stated the case and told him that as 
he was childless, I wanted he should make the Professorship 
of Natural Theology and Geology his heir, and that so long 
as I was connected with the College, I would fill the chair, 
and thus make it a Hitchcock affair all round. The conceit 
struck him favorably, and by return mail the proposal was 
accepted. Subsequently, through fear that some of his secu- 
ties might fall below par, he added two thousand dollars more, 
making the whole endowment twenty-two thousand dollars, 
which is the largest among the professorships, and the income 
is almost sufficient to sustain two professors. 

The object I had in view in seeking this endowment, and that 
of the donors was the same, was to secure permanent instruction 
in geology and natural theology, in their connected form : for 
it was not so much the metaphysical natural theology of past 
times which I had in view, as those principles and questions 
which have sprung from modern physical and natural science, 
and which can be treated ably only by one familiar with the 
sciences. Hence, although other subjects, such as physiology 
or zoology, might be added to this professorship, neither 
geology nor natural theology could be taken from it, without 
destroying it, and forfeiting the endowment. I cannot believe 
that the Trustees will ever allow any such perversion of the 
Hitchcock Professorship, and thus incur the odium of present 
and future generations. 


There are two branches of science, the history of whose 
introduction into my department deserves some notice, because 
they appear nowhere on our catalogues in connection with 
my name, although I have devoted to them no little time and 
money. I have already briefly referred to them in giving an 
account of the Zoological Cabinet, and promised the details 
in this place. I have reference to anatomy and physiology. 
In the earlier periods of the College, I believe Dr. Humphrey 
had either given some lectures, or heard some recitations on 
the subject, and in 1835, Dr. Post, of New York, delivered a 
course of lectures ; and I think at an earlier date, Dr. J. V. C. 
Smith, of Boston, had once, and perhaps twice, done the same. 
But the College had not a single anatomical model or prepara 
tion, not even a skeleton, nor any of the large works on anat 
omy ; and of course the instruction given must be very meagre. 
I had long been giving my attention to the subject, and intro 
ducing it more and more in illustration of .natural religion. 
Moreover it seemed a shame to profess to give young men a 
liberal education, and yet leave them ignorant of their own 
bodies, so curiously and wonderfully made. Yet I had never 
studied anatomy professionally, and therefore it would hardly 
do for me to be announced as the teacher of it. Yet as a 
matter of fact I became more and more so. But I knew the 
College to be too poor for that was the period of its deepest 
poverty to procure the requisite illustrations. I therefore 
obtained, in 1843, with my own funds, a seven hundred dollar 
manikin, with a skeleton, and many other models, and then 
wrote out a systematic course of lectures, say twenty-five, 
which I continued yearly to give till 1861, when I gave over 
the subject into the hands of my oldest son, as Professor of 
Hygiene and Physical Education. For the use of the appa 
ratus I received a fee for several years from the classes, 
amounting to sums from fifty to one hundred dollars annually. 
But I did not like the idea of imposing such a tax, and in 
1854 I told the Trustees if they would abolish the tax I would 


give the use of the models and drawings, and since that time 
they have been used gratuitously. 

I have referred to anatomical drawings. These were not 
very extensive, but enough so with the models for a course 
of twenty-five lectures. They were executed by Mrs. Hitch 
cock, and I ought here to record my deep indebtedness to her 
for that immense amount of illustrations which her pencil has 
furnished me in all the departments of instruction in which I 
have engaged. They cover many thousand square feet of 
surface, and illustrate the principles of botany, geology, 
zoology and anatomy. The College has never had any funds 
which it could devote to procure these indispensable aids to 
the lecturer, and therefore I never asked any ; nor have I had 
the requisite private funds for the purpose. But Mrs. Hitch 
cock has been steadily at work for thirty-six years, whenever 
called upon to supply my numerous demands. And that too 
without the slightest pecuniary compensation, or the hope of 
artistic reputation ; for so large and coarse have been most 
of the drawings that she never felt flattered to have others 
told that she was the author of them. And yet the outlines 
even of the largest are drawn with remarkable truthfulness ; 
witness, for instance, the Iguanodon, which as first drawn was 
seventy feet long. I am sure that $1,000, or even $2,000, 
would not have procured the drawings which she has furnished 
me, and that may be looked on as her donation to the College, 
while to myself money would poorly represent my indebted 
ness, since without this aid I never could have intelligibly 
explained or given any interest to the subjects of my lectures. 

A review of this chapter in my history awakens sad remin 
iscences. For it reveals the great failure of my life. As 
I became more and more deeply interested in natural theol 
ogy, the desire sprang up within me to make it the great object 
of my life to prepare a full work on that subject, in which all 
its great principles should be stated and fully illustrated by 
modern science. Hitherto all the works that have appeared 
have given only brief generalities or discussions of particular 


points. Moreover that rich part of the field where natural and 
revealed religion afford mutual illustration, has yet been but 
most imperfectly explored. I knew that such a work as I 
contemplated must be undertaken late in life, not till twenty or 
thirty years had been spent in exploring the field. At the 
time I accepted the Presidency, I \vas almost ready to begin. 
Nay, I had long been throwing out insulated fragments in my 
" Religion of Geology," and articles in the "Bibliotheca Sacra " 
and " Biblical Repository," &c., which I hoped at length to 
convert into one complete and compacted system. But as I 
said in my Valedictory Address, " I perceived, that if I accepted 
the Presidency, that object must be abandoned, as in fact it 
has been ; for the sands of my life are too nearly run, I fear, 
to resume it now, and so I must leave only disconnected frag 
ments of what I had hoped to bring out in a perfected system. 
But when I saw how much more important was the welfare of 
the Institution than any of my literary plans, or health, or even 
life, I yielded to what seemed duty, nor does my decision 
appear erroneous as I look at it in retrospect." I dare not refuse 
to lay this darling object upon the altar at God s command, 
satisfied that God never intended I should have the honor of 
executing such a work, however important, probably because I 
was not fit for it. If I might feel that he was saying to me as 
he once did to David " Whereas it was in thy heart to build a 
house to my name, thou didst ivell that it was in thy heart" I 
should be content ; and oh, if I could appropriate to me and 
mine.the next sentence addressed to David, (1 Kings, viii. 19,) 
how calmly and even rejoicingly could I acquiesce in his Provi 
dence. Nevertheless, let these disclosures show to any who 
may have mistaken the secret springs of my labors, that 
scientific reputation was not the culmination of my ambition, but 
the higher object of making science illustrate the Divine Glory. 
Whatever I have done in that direction affords me a far higher 
gratification than the most decided scientific success. 

During my twenty years experience in teaching before 
assuming the Presidency, some exigencies occurred in which I 


was called to give instruction in branches quite foreign to the 
title of my professorship, which duty I attempted because, 
according to my notions, every officer is bound to take part in 
those miscellaneous duties not properly falling into any depart 
ment, and therefore devolving upon the President, if no one 
comes to his aid. For years I conducted a weekly Thursday 
exercise on the Bible in the junior or senior class. Not having 
a text-book, I made the exercise partly by lecture and partly 
by question upon a subject previously given out, and in that 
way went over the most important doctrines of the Bible, 
taking care to bring out the leading objections of scepticism. 
Though such an exercise did not require so much preparation 
on the part of the student as was desirable, except when we 
used such works as " Knapp s Theology," or " Storr and Flatt s 
Biblical Theology," yet it did seem to me to have done much 
good, and by devoting Thursday afternoon to the study of the 
Bible, as was done till quite recently, a public testimony was 
given to the authority and value of the Bible ; and though 
there may have been good reasons for giving up this practice, 
it is not likely that one, who like myself had followed it so 
many years, can ever become quite reconciled to the change. 

One summer I was called to hear the recitations of the 
Junior Class in Astronomy, which I did with great pleasure, 
it being my favorite science. Probably, however, the exercise 
profited me quite as much as it did the Class. 

Another subject which I was quite unexpectedly called upon 
to teach in 1828 was Fortification. That was the year^wlii-n 
a new Parallel Course of Study was introduced substituting 
for the ancient classics after the first year modern languages 
and science. A number had taken the New Course and it 
became necessary to supply them with instruction. My 
knowledge of Fortification was called into requisition, and I 
explained its principles chiefly by familiar lectures. When I 
enlisted in the army of the Prince of Peace, and even became 
a standard-bearer in it, I concluded that my knowledge of the 
principles of carnal warfare would never be of further use. 


But when thus called to employ it, I made up my mind that 
whatever knowledge a man acquires in early life he need not 
fear but some time or other in the course of his life it will 
come into play. 

During the summer of 1835 Dr. Humphrey was absent in 
Europe and I consented to act as his locum tenens, and of 
course had a taste of the duties of President during term time 
and at Commencement ; and though nothing unpleasant 
occurred, it was not such an experience as prejudiced me in 
favor of a permanent acceptance of the office when, some years 
afterwards, it was offered to me, for I saw at once that such a 
position must compel a man to hold in abeyance nearly all his 
literary and scientific plans. 

The efforts which I made to promote temperance in College 
so far as intoxicating and narcotic substances were concerned, 
have already in a good measure been described. But they 
took a wider range and embraced the whole subjects of diet, 
regimen and employment. I had never been intemperate in 
any of these respects, unless it were by excessive labor. But 
as to food and drink I had lived in the plain manner common 
among farmers, made more rigidly plain by poverty. But in 
early life I had been troubled with what seemed to be a 
scrofulous diathesis to which was added a dyspeptic habit, 
before the age of twenty. This had become at length the 
great torment of my life, and bid fair to lay me upon the shelf. 
I began to inquire whether my dietetic habits could not be 
improved. I studied the leading works on Hygiene from 
Chenye to James Johnson, and by adopting their lead 
ing principles I found great relief, though my troubles 
were so deeply constitutional, and perhaps hereditary on 
my mother s side, that entire restoration to health was out 
of the question. But I learnt, I thought, how u Dyspepsia 
might be Forestalled and Resisted." And my zeal led me 
to attempt to teach the art to the young men in College, 


who in those days were far more troubled with these hundred- 
headed complaints than in these gymnastic times, and so were 
the community generally. My system was rather rigid, and 
drawn out with the enthusiasm of one who found himself 
thereby greatly relieved, and his ability to study and to labor 
very much increased. But it needed modification to suit all 
cases. Hence the most contradictory statements of its effects 
on individuals came to my knowledge. In by far the greater 
number, decided benefit had resulted, and I was regarded as 
a great benefactor. But in some cases individuals found 
themselves growing weaker, but I never heard of any one 
who received permanent injury. On two points, at least, 
my views were quite extensively misunderstood, probably 
from my defective mode of description. One was that I 
recommended eating by the scales, that is, weighing the food 
eaten. Another was that I went against the use of meat. I 
never recommended the first except as a means of showing a 
man how much he was in the habit of eating. And as to the 
latter, I only went against the excessive use of meat, unless 
in particular cases, where its entire disuse might be found 
beneficial by trial. My fundamental principle was to make 
use of such kinds .of food, and in such quantity, as will give 
the greatest continued vigor and activity, both to mind and 
body, whether it need only the twelve ounces of Cornaro 
daily, or the twelve pounds of the Esquimaux. Nor did I 
object to variety in diet, only that it should not be great 
at any one meal. Since my lectures were published, the 
discoveries of chemists as to the composition of food have 
made me more liberal, perhaps, in the matter of variety in 
food than formerly, when it was understood that nitrogen did 
not exist in vegetable products. Indeed, since it is known 
that all the elements and proximate principles essential to 
nourishment are found both in vegetable and animal products 
used for food, I regard it as comparatively unimportant, on 
what sorts of food we live, except that some are more nourish 
ing and easier of digestion than others. Hence I am ready 


to partake of what is set before me, and can be satisfied with 
a very meagre cuisine. Or if tempted by an abundant larder, 
I have only to put a knife to my throat and I feel safe. At 
any rate I had rather suffer from a moderate dyspeptic attack 
than to manifest fastidiousness about particular kinds of food 
and thus attract notice for singularity. 

In no way, perhaps, have I made myself more widely, and 
perhaps I may say unfavorably known, than by my lectures in 
the College, and three sermons in the National Preacher on 
Diet and Regimen. I did indeed give some severe, and per 
haps uncharitable blows, against some of the dietetic habits 
of the community, and it seemed to be taken for granted that 
the abstemious system which I advocated was first started by 
myself, and a mere idiosyncratic assault upon the peace and 
comfort of society. The thousands of authors a large part 
of them physicians from whom most of my rules were 
derived, were ignored, and I was made the scapegoat of them 
all. The truth is, the most unpardonable of all sins is to 
attack a man s habits of eating and drinking, and the more 
objectionable these habits are the more irritable will he be 
under your probe. 

In later times I have been sometimes asked whether I still 
maintain, either theoretically or practically, those views in 
regard to food, drink and regimen, which I publicly defended 
more than thirty years ago. In reply I have said that I 
never professed or expected in my practice to come up to 
those rules ; but that if the rules were strict I should come 
nearer to a true standard than if they were low and lax. As 
to the great principles of my system of 1830, I cannot see 
why they are not correct, though I should now state them 
with some modifications resulting from chemical discoveries 
and larger experience. I should be less rigid now, as already 
intimated, in respect to variety in diet, though equally opposed 
to crowding too many sorts into the same meal. The grand 
points which I regard as most important in theory, and which 
I have aimed at in my practice, are as much simplicity in my 


diet as possible, and never to overload nature by indulging a 
perverted appetite. I think more, perhaps, of the adaptation 
of diet to employment, the seasons, and the state of health, 
and of the salutary influence of an occasional change of 
living, even if it bring a more liberal allowance, as on jour 
neys and in seasons of relaxation from regular and severe 
employment and study ; for then the brain has little to do but 
to attend to the demands of the stomach. But at home, when 
the nervous influence of the brain is needed for engrossing 
labors and studies, a more rigid conformity to rules and a 
simpler diet are important. As to drink, I still maintain that 
whatever may be necessary in poor health and in old age, for 
the young and the middle aged, pure water is all that is 
necessary, and best adapted to health and strength. 

To a partial and imperfect adoption of this system, I am 
indebted more than language can express. Other systems of 
hygiene, such as the vegetarian, have indeed long since super 
seded mine, and they might have done still better for me than 
mine. But I have been so engrossed by professional cares 
and scientific pursuits that I have given them little attention. 
Moreover, for some years past my complaints have assumed a 
form so much more serious, and have had their seat so much 
in organs not intimately connected with the digestive, that the 
question has often been, not whether this or that article of 
food and drink w r as theoretically the best, but rather what 
kinds my system would bear at all, and these I have been 
compelled by medical advisers to use, even though at variance 
with former hygienic rules. But skin for skin, yea, all that a 
man hath will he give for his life. 

It may be of some service if I record my experience on a 
particular feature of this subject, on which I think some 
erroneous views prevail. It is a common opinion that if a 
professional man has much public speaking to go through, or 
protracted duties to perform, he should strengthen himself by 
hearty and stimulating food and drink. I have found just the 
reverse to be true in my case. If called to preach or lecture, 


I found that I could go through the service far easier, and with 
less fatigue and wear and tear, if I reduced the quantity of food 
and drink. My favorite diet in such cases has long been a 
bowl of hominy and milk, which with me has a wonderful 
power to give clearness and elasticity to the mind. My rule 
has been to leave the eating, except just enough to prevent 
faintness, till the speaking is through. 

During my Presidency I found Commencement week to 
demand almost constant confinement in the meetings of Trus 
tees, Prudential Committee and Faculty, and on the closing 
day a session of five or six hours in the church. I used to get 
very nervous, and my head seemed as if bound by a hoop, till 
I learned to practice great abstemiousness. By taking a little 
horseback exercise in the morning, and a bowl of arrowroot, 
the lightest of all kinds of food, for breakfast, I could go through 
these protracted sessions without the slightest inconvenience or 
subsequent injury. It might not be so with others, yet I would 
advise those of feeble constitutions to try ; for I think the prin 
ciples of physiology promise them success, as well as my 

I would refer to one other subject connected with pledged 
abstinence from intoxicating drinks. J am satisfied that one 
of the main difficulties that stands in the way of aspiring young 
men in a course of education, to prevent their pledging them 
selves against intoxicating drinks, is the fear that it will greatly 
embarrass and mortify them when they shall be introduced into 
refined and influential society, where such drinks arc freely 
used, and not to use them in the social circle will be thought 
vulgar and boorish. They do not wish to subject themselves 
to such mortification, and the danger of blasting their fairest 
prospects in life. Now my experience goes to show that this 
is an idle fear, and that a consistent, honest example of tem 
perance raises a man in the judgment of all whose opinion is 
worth having. I would refer to a few examples. 

In the numerous meetings of the American Association for 
the Advancement of Science, and other scientific and literary 


bodies, where soirees have abounded with intoxicating drinks, 
I am sure that my refusal to partake has not produced the 
slightest neglect or disrespect, either towards myself or those 
of my confreres who like me were abstinents. 

When dining with Governor Marcy of New York, witli a 
small party, he, knowing something of my habits, with true 
gentlemanly politeness said to me, as the wine was offered, 
" I think you do not use wine/ and thus relieved me at once 
from all embarrassment, and introduced a pleasant conversa 
tion about total abstinence, which I could see had on its side 
the consciences of all present. 

These little discussions about temperance almost always 
followed a refusal to partake of the wine cup. I was invited 
to the dinner given in Richmond, Virginia, in 1847, (happen 
ing to be sojourning there,) to Daniel Webster, and was placed 
near Mr. Webster and Rev. Mr. Hoge. the latter of whom, 
like myself, used water only. This was noticed, and drew 
from Mr. Webster an excellent lecture on temperance. He 
said that when he first went into the practice of his profession 
his health was poor, and the physician recommended the 
daily use of wine. Using it at a particular hour of the day, 
he found after a time that if from any cause he could not 
obtain the customary glass, he became uneasy and fretful, and 
it alarmed him. " And let me tell you," said Mr. Webster, 
"that if any man finds himself uncomfortable because his 
customary glass fails him at a particular hour, he is in danger 
of intemperance." 

The most honorable and gentlemanly treatment I CVT 
received, in like circumstances, was from Chevalier Bunsen, 
the distinguished scholar and author. I was dining with Mr. 
Pusey, member of Parliament for Berkshire, at his residence 
in London, in 1850. The Chevalier, who was Prussian Min 
ister at the Court of St. James, sat opposite to me at the 
table, and I expected what soon came, an invitation to drink 
a glass of wine with him, which I believe means to drink my 
health. But I declined. " Oh," said he, " you don t use wine, 


do you ? " " No, sir," I replied. " Will you then take a glass 
of water with me ? " was his rejoinder. " With the greatest 
pleasure," said I. " How is my friend Dr. Baird ? " he added, 
thus showing where his temperance knowledge came from. 
This was genuine politeness ; and yet why shoitid not the 
teetotaler be allowed in such a case to choose his beverage, 
to keep a good conscience, when the wine-drinker can change 
his without any qualms of conscience ? why should not such a 
concession be made, without regarding it as any great stretch 
of liberality? But as the feelings of the higher classes of 
society in Europe are, it was certainly very generous in the 
Chevalier, and showed the true nobility of his nature. 

I met with treatment a little different in another assembly 
in London, where I hardly expected it. It was at a dinner or 
collation given at the last Commencement of Homerton Col 
lege, which had been presided over by my venerable friend 
Dr. John Pye Smith, for fifty years. The leading clergymen 
and laymen of the Independent Church in London and vicin 
ity were present, and Dr. Smith had placed me on his right 
hand and given me a very flattering introduction. He was 
himself a well known teetotaler, and I felt quite strong under 
his shadow. When the Queen s health was proposed I drank 
it in my glass of water ; I stated that I had done it with a 
cordial respect for her Majesty, not only from my knowledge 
of her general character, but from what I had myself wit 
nessed only a Sabbath or two previously. Happening in the 
Isle of Wight, I sat during the church service within a few 
feet of the Queen and royal family, and I noticed that when 
ever she was prayed for personally, as she was several times, 
she bowed her head, and I could see her bonnet tremble, as is 
natural when a person joins cordially in what is said, and it 
seemed to me to indicate that she felt the need of those 
prayers, and united fervently in the petition. As I mentioned 
these facts, I could see tears in the eyes of some of the ven 
erable men before me, so strong was their love for the Queen. 
But my story was not sufficient to save me from the playful 


sallies of one of the London ministers for my cold water toast. 
As he had been in the United States not long before, I con 
cluded that his conscience disturbed him somewhat, and I 
made no reply, contented that I had been the means of making 
him so uifeasy as to his drinking habits that he found it 
necessary to do something to keep his moral sense quiet. 

In passing through all the soirees and dinners encountered 
in a week s meeting of the British Scientific Association, I 
did not meet with any thing at all unpleasant in the practice 
of entire abstinence, although wine and even stronger drinks 
met me everywhere, and was furnished, and used too, even at 
breakfast, as I witnessed at the one of which I partook at the 
residence of the Lord Provost of Edinburgh. 

On the whole, I am confident, that I have been a decided 
gainer wherever I have fearlessly and openly practiced total 
abstinence when in wealthy and refined society. It has 
secured to me respect and confidence instead of insult and 
mortification, and so I think every one will find it who tries 
the experiment. 


I have already given a detail of the financial embarrassments 
of the College, which were the main cause of its rapidly 
running down from 1836 to 1845. It was clear that some 
decisive measures must be taken or it would soon be too far 
gone for resuscitation. Dr. Humphrey concluded to resign, 
and efforts followed to supply his place. But the position had 
no temptations. One natural question would be, where is the 
money to come from for the support of a President? Another 
would be, what measures can be adopted to stop the downward 
progress of the institution, and to give it an upward tendency? 
If a man as wise as Dr. Humphrey could not do it, who would 
wish to venture upon the experiment ? Especially, who would 
feel it his duty to quit a sphere of great usefulness and quiet 
for an enterprise so doubtful and perplexing ? Yet it seemed 
to require a man who could bring a distinguished reputation 


and was popular with the community, in order to stem and 
turn back the current. Hence the Trustees applied to such 
men as Professor Park, of Andover, and Professor Shepherd, 
of Bangor. But they had not much hope of success, and it 
ere long began to be suggested that some one already connected 
with the College must take the office ; for it would only make 
matters worse if the Presidency should go begging long. It 
was intimated to me that probably my name would head the 
list of home candidates, I never knew why, except that I was 
the oldest officer on the ground. For of all offices this one 
seemed to myself, honestly, to be the one to which I was the 
least adapted ; and I dreaded to have the question come before 
me. Whenever, therefore, I learned that the place had been 
offered to any gentleman abroad, I addressed to him as strong 
an argument as I could, urging his acceptance. But it availed 
nothing, and at length the question came before myself as I 

The arguments against my acceptance seemed very weighty. 
In the first place I felt a strong aversion to the duties of the 
office, both on account of their nature and because they were 
unadapted to my habits and feelings. My constitution, natu 
rally timid and hesitating, and rendered morbidly so by more 
than thirty years of wretched health, was averse to governing 
men by strict military rules. If I could not control them by 
moral influence I had no disposition to force or command them. 
I might do it as a matter of duty, but my nature was averse 
to it. 

Secondly. I had no ambition to stand at the head of the 
institution. I have far too much ambition in my constitution, 
but it never took this direction. In my chosen department I 
was willing to rise. But this I thought would be going out 
of my appropriate sphere where I could best serve God and 
my generation. 

Thirdly. The Presidency, in the existing exigency, needed 
some one who had a superior talent for collecting money from 
the benevolent and the wealthy, and I had a strong conviction 


that of all men I was most deficient in this skill. For I had 
often made efforts to obtain endowments and benefactions, and 
though others succeeded, I always failed, so much so that I 
had lost all confidence in any efforts I might make. And 
though I afterward had some success in this matter, I fully 
believe it was because God went before me and prepared the 

Fourthly. I had never myself been through a regular college 
course, and therefore the presumption would be that my edu 
cation was very defective, and that I was not qualified to judge 
in respect to the studies and the discipline of college. Hence 
my appointment must awaken a strong prejudice against the 
College in the literary community, instead of the favorable 
impression, which seemed indispensable. 

This was indeed a formidable objection. True it might be 
said that I had been over, after a sort, with most of the studies 
of a college course, and to some of them had given ten times 
more attention than is done in college ; also that I had received 
unsolicited from Yale College the degree of Master of Arts at 
the age of twenty-five, and of Doctor of Laws from Harvard, 
in 1840; also that I had been connected with Amherst College 
twenty years, and could not but have become familiar with the 
details of instruction, police and government. Nevertheless, 
since I have learnt more fully how strong is the prejudice 
among graduates towards the self-taught, I think there must 
have been unusual liberality among the Trustees and officers of 
Amherst College, or this last consideration would have been 
thought an insuperable objection against my election. 

Fifthly. My acceptance of the Presidency must defeat the 
leading literary plans of my life and greatly abridge my means 
of scientific research. In another place I have stated what 
leading plan of my life must be given up, as in fact it was, 
never to be resumed. This has ever seemed to me the great 
est sacrifice I was called on to make in accepting the office, 
and even now, I can scarcely think of it but with tears. 


Sixthly. My health was quite insufficient to assume such 
onerous duties. When I commenced my labors at Amherst, 
it was so poor that I had no expectation of holding out 
more than three or four years. Yet I had now gone on 
for twenty years, never failing to give my full courses of 
instruction, besides a great amount of other labors, public and 
private. But I felt, at length, so certain that I must have 
some respite, that I had made arrangements for a voyage to 
Europe. And, in order to meet my expenses in part, my 
friend Dr. John Pye Smith, of London, had proposed to pre 
pare the way for me to give a course of lectures in that city, 
and they had even been announced in one or more of the 
newspapers there, and I had nearly got the course ready ; the 
same that were afterwards published under the title of the 
Religion of Geology. But if I took the Presidency, instead 
of this relaxation and excursion, I must submit my shoulders 
to an additional load of labor at home. Certainly the substi 
tution did not appear very inviting. 

By what arguments, now, was this strong array of objec 
tions overcome ? The following considerations were the prin 
cipal that determined my course : 

In the first place, whatever my defects, I did know how to 
work hard and to practice rigid economy. I had always been 
obliged to give good heed to the latter virtue, for it had never 
been an object of pursuit to accumulate money, and it had 
ever been a matter of conscience with me not to make heavy 
charges to government, or corporations, or individuals, for 
services, so that with a large family, economy was always 
necessary and did not require any self-denial, and so many 
things had always conspired to keep me at work, that unremit 
ting labor, as far as my system would bear it, had become 
almost a second nature. In the exigency through which the 
College was passing, both of these habits would be indispensa 
ble in its President. 

In the second place, the experience of my early life fitted 
me to sympathize strongly with that class of young men whom 


the founders of Amherst College intended to educate, and who 
had hitherto constituted the majority of its inmates, viz., those 
who were obliged to depend almost entirely upon their own 
efforts. I had originated from the same humble class in 
society, and been obliged to contend with the same difficulties 
and discouragements. I could, therefore, counsel and encour 
age those who were struggling along the same rugged path. 

Thirdly, having myself known the disadvantages of not 
having passed through a regular collegiate course, I could 
urge others not to fail if possible of securing its benefits. 
And I have found abundant opportunity to give such advice. 
For, when the student is pressed by poverty and by severe 
studies, it is easy to persuade him that he may as well take 
a short cut, and let a college diploma go. I think I have 
saved some, and I have tried to save many, from this literary 

Fourthly, the Presidency would bring me again into the 
relation of pastor of a church. The idea was very pleasant, 
for, during twenty years, I had been deprived of the peculiar 
sympathies and pleasant duties of that office, and I felt the 
need of them to refresh and invigorate my spiritual life. 

Fifthly, I had entire confidence in the character and ability 
of the Trustees and Faculty then in office, to devise and carry 
through any plan for arresting the downward tendency of the 
institution, and bringing it into a prosperous condition. My 
colleagues were men admirably adapted by their superior 
talents and acquirements, and by their large experience to 
be popular and successful teachers, while their religious prin 
ciples and character made it certain that whatever enterprise 
they conscientiously engaged in, they would hold on to with 
true Puritan tenacity. Of a similar spirit and character were 
the Trustees : men of excellent judgment and devoted piety, 
who (as well as the officers of instruction) never undertook any 
thing till they had prayed much over it, and never abandoned 
it so long as they had faith to continue their prayers. With 
such men I knew that we should move harmoniously onward, 


and that they would make up for my deficiencies by every 
means in their power. I felt sure that if any men could suc 
ceed in such a work as was before us, they were the men. 

Finally, since the interests of the College were far more 
important than my personal preferences or comfort, or health, 
or literary plans, I did not feel at liberty to refuse to enter this 
field of labor, whose doors seemed to open so widely, and into 
which the finger of Providence seemed to point so plainly. I 
could not indeed be made to believe that I should ever see the 
Institution lifted out of the slough where it was floundering, 
but where duty was plain the event must be left with God. I 
therefore yielded to the request of the Trustees, and entered, 
with a rather heavy heart but a resolute will, upon the duties 
of the Presidency. 

This last sentence leads me to say a word about certain 
peculiarities of my mental constitution, resulting probably in a 
measure from my long continued conflict with disease. When 
engaging in any new course of conduct I rarely have much 
hope that I shall succeed in it, and yet that feeble hope does 
not seem to weaken at all my efforts to succeed. After having 
deliberately and prayerfully undertaken any enterprise, I per 
severe in it long after men of sanguine temperament have 
given it up. So that it often happens that I who am least 
hopeful of all at the beginning, am ready to lead a forlorn 
hope when the forward and ardent have thrown down their 
weapons. I leave to others to explain if they can this anomaly 
or contrariety in my constitution ; but the fact is important to 
illustrate some portions of my history. 

I ought also to state a few facts which formed a part of my 
education, and which served to diminish the evils of a self- 
taught course. I have already referred to the benefits which 
I derived from being for many years a leading member of a 
debating society. I there had an opportunity to practice 
extempore speaking and composition, and to acquire facility in 
philosophical reasoning probably to a ten times greater extent 
than does a student in college. It was also an admirable dis- 


cipline I was compelled to go through when called to instruct 
in the academy in Deerfield. As there were always in the 
school a number who were fitting for college, I found a 
thorough review of a large part of my classical studies indis 
pensable not once merely, but over and over again, so that 
the details have remained in my mind even to the present 
time, and the same is true of the many other studies one is 
called to teach in an academy. It was a much more severe 
discipline than if I had been through college drilling, and I 
would advise no young man to venture upon it unless driven 
to it, as I was, by dire necessity. 

The academy owned a very good philosophical apparatus, 
and I prepared a number of lectures on natural philosophy, 
which were delivered with experiments before the school, and 
iii the evening before the citizens of the village. This was my 
first attempt at lecturing. 

But my best mental discipline was connected with the use 
of the astronomical instruments of the academy. In another 
place I have described the observations which I made on the 
comet of 1811, as well as other heavenly bodies. The subse 
quent winter was in a good measure devoted to a reduction of 
those observations, and as I had access to only a few books, I 
was obliged to calculate by spherical trigonometry many 
elements which at this day are found in the tables of practical 
astronomy. The mere effort to form an accurate idea of the 
numerous spherical triangles I had to construct out of the 
imaginary circles of the celestial sphere, was an admirable 
discipline, and their accurate solution not less so. 

To give some idea of the extent of my observations and researches, 
I will add the results as to the longitude, which was only one of 
many subjects to which I directed my attention. These results are, 
indeed, more discrepant than practiced observers obtain in fixed 
observatories. But I was only eighteen years old when a part of the 
observations were made, and had served no apprenticeship, and had 
only a sextant and theodolite. Yet the mean of all the results does 
hot differ as much as two miles from the longitude as obtained in 
the accurate trigonometrical survey of Massachusetts. 



h. m. sec. 

By Solar Eclipse, Sept. 17th, 1811, the beginning, . 4 49 53 

End of ditto, 4 50 38 

Distance of Moon and Aldebaran, Oct. 29th, 1811, . 4 49 45 

Distance of Sun and Moon, Oct. 12th, 1811, . . 4 52 

Distance of Moon and Aldebaran, Oct. 28th, 1811, . 4 48 53 

By emersion of Jupiter s first Satellite, May 2d, 1813, . 4 49 52 

By distance of Sun and Moon, Dec. 19th, 1817, . . 4 52 10 

By distance of Moon and Aldebaran, Dec. 17th, 1817, . 4 52 50 

By distance of Moon and Pollux, Dec. 19th, 1817, . 4 50 36 

By distance of Moon and a Arietis, Dec. 23d, 1817, . 4 52 15 

By distance .of Moon and Regulus, Dec. 23d, 1817, . 4 52 10 

By distance of Moon and Aldebaran, Dec. 26th, 1817, 4 49 34 

By Sun and Moon, Dec. 31st, 1817, . . . . 4 49 9 

By Sun and Moon, Jan. 1st, 1818, , . . 4 50 3 

By Sun and Moon, Jan. 2d, 1818, . s ... . 4 50 8 

By Lunar Eclipse, Jan. 15th, 1805, (By Gen. E. Hoyt,) 4 49 33 

Mean, . % . < . . * * * . 4 50 36 

This equals 72 deg., 39 min., en arc. By the Trigonometrical 
Survey, the longitude is 72 deg., 36 min., 40 sec. 

I might give similar results as to latitude, and the declination of 
the needle, and especially the latitude and longitude of the comet. 
But the above is sufficient to make not inappropriate, a quotation 
from the poet Cumberland, which I find on the cover of my manu 
script of calculations : 

"These are the studies; tis by these the mind 
Of early youth is exercised and taught, 
That discipline which forms the reasoning man." 

But a still more severe and improving discipline grew out 
of these astronomical researches. In making my calculations, 
I had made much use of the Nautical Almanac, then repub- 
lished by Edmund M. Blunt, of New York. In a work of 
so high and settled a character, I should not have thought 
of any errors as scarcely possible, had not Mr. Blunt placed 
beneath the opening page of every month, the sentence, " ten 
dollars will be paid on the discovery of an error in the 
figures." This led me to an examination, and I soon found 


that I would accumulate money rapidly if the offer was 
fulfilled. I discovered a long list of errors, both in the 
figures and the words, and I sent it to Mr. Blunt, but got 
only evasive and unsatisfactory replies. I then sent the list 
to the American Monthly Magazine, published in New York. 
This excited Mr. Blunt s indignation, and he published a 
reply, beginning thus : " Noticing an attack on my Nautical 
Almanacs, from one Edward Hitchcock, a few remarks only 
are necessary to explain the man s drift." He endeavored to 
evade the force of my communication by representing the 
errors there pointed out as in a part of the work used chiefly 
by astronomers, and added, " I would rather ten errors would 
escape me there, than one by which the mariner should be 
deceived." And then he charges me with " shameful neglect," 
in not examining that part of the Almanac in which seamen 
were chiefly concerned. It so happened that before I saw 
his article, I had forwarded to the Magazine a second list 
of errors in the lunar distances, in which seamen have a 
vital interest. They were twenty in number, and of such 
magnitude as would be fatal to the seamen, if not discovered. 
This was the only reply that appeared to Blunt s scurrilous 
attack upon me. I continued my researches, however, and 
six months later, I sent another list of thirty-five errors in 
the same almanacs, viz., those for 1815, 1816, 1817 and 
1818. The effect of my efforts had led Mr. Blunt to employ 
a gentleman to recalculate the almanac for 1819. In his 
preface, he says : " It will afford much satisfaction and promote 
commercial advantages, if on discovery of an error in any 
nautical work, publicity should immediately be made." And 
yet he made no allusion to what I had done, although it 
had been the means of the whole movement, and for ought 
I know, of the subsequent restoration of the English editions 
to their original accuracy. He sent me, however, a copy of 
his recalculated edition of 1819, which was, of course, a chal 
lenge to me to find errors in that if I could. I w r ent to work 
and soon made out a list of thirty-five, which, added to the 


thirty-five found in the four previous years, made seventy in 
my last communication. This was rather too heavy a shot 
for Mr. Blunt to stand under, and, two months later, he sent a 
communication to the Magazine, which begins by saying: 
"The communication from the pen of Mr. Hitchcock, rela 
tive to errors in my edition of the Nautical Almanac, 
deserves notice, and he is entitled to much credit for his 
perseverance." He then says that the thirty-five errors 
which I had pointed out in his edition of 1819, he "had 
corrected with the pen, and begged me to accept his thanks, 
whatever may have been my motive." This was quite a 
change of style from his " one Edward Hitchcock " communi 
cation. But how mean, thus to impugn my motives, instead 
of making me a present, although I had pointed out more 
than eighty " errors in the figures," for which, had I appealed 
to the law, I could have compelled him to pay me ten dollars 
each, and were I to pass through a similar experience now, 
I think I should seek legal redress, although in all my life 
I have never engaged in a law suit. But I had worked 
hard enough in discovering these errors to deserve the reward 
which was fully offered, and at that time, almost entirely 
destitute as I was of pecuniary means, it was surely honor 
able in me to seek to secure the offer. 

But I had my reward. It was highly gratifying thus to 
have been the means of bringing back the Nautical Almanac 
to its former correctness, and thus of saving the lives, it might 
be, of many mariners. But the mental discipline required was 
the richest personal reward. I was a young man, almost 
unknown beyond the narrow circle in which I moved, whose 
prospects for life had been sadly blasted, and I had no influ 
ential friend to take up my cause. I had to venture alone into 
this conflict. My adversary thought he could strike me dead 
at a blow. In such circumstances a single mistake on my 
part would have been fatal to my reputation. This rendered 
the most rigid accuracy indispensable. They did not catch 
me tripping in any case. The lesson I thus learnt was of 


immense importance. Very rarely is the same lesson taught 
in college with motives half as powerful. But it is one of the 
most valuable of all experiences in early education, and without 
it a literary man will go stumbling through life. 

The numerous astronomical calculations which I was obliged 
to go through some years before this controversy about the 
Nautical Almanac undoubtedly contributed much to prepare 
me for it. I ought also to say that I calculated and published 
the Country Almanac from 1814 to 1818, inclusive. And 
here also accuracy (except in the predictions of the weather) 
was essential to success. But no complaint of errors was ever 
made except in one instance. In stating the feast and fast 
days of the Episcopal Church I put down Easter one year at a 
different time from what the ordinary rules would give, and 
both clergymen and people pronounced me wrong and my 
almanac of course useless. I defended myself in the papers, 
stating that the ordinary rules for determining Easter were 
that year useless, it being a peculiar case that happened only 
once in some hundreds of years. The Episcopalians did not 
probably believe me; but soon after their bishop issued a 
circular which sustained my view, and that settled the matter, 
and made my almanac popular. 

Thus much for my early scientific training. I have men 
tioned also the important aid I experienced from repeatedly 
going over some of the Latin and Greek classics in teaching. 
I may be allowed also to mention a practice which I adopted, 
which I have found of important service, but which I have 
rarely known employed in college. I used, when studying the 
classics, to keep a note-book for putting down the most striking 
sentiments of the author, such as would answer for mottoes 
and to introduce in essays and speeches with effect. To obtain 
the choices^ for I did not wish the number to be very large 
I was led to study all the notes where quotations are often 
made from rare authors. These notes I used often to look 
over, and thus made them familiar and fixed them on the 
memory, and I have found them of great value and no mean 


substitute for that more extended training which is given in a 
college course. 


I have given an account of the labors expected from me as 
Professor. It may not be amiss to enumerate those which 
met me in the Presidency. 

In the first term I gave three lectures per week on Nat 
ural Theology, to the Junior Class, and heard about the same 
number of recitations on Chemistry, although the latter service 
was not permanently connected with the Presidency. 

In the second term I had four or five recitations per week 
in Butler s Analogy, in the Senior Class. 

In the third term five lectures or recitations on Geology. 

This is as small an amount of literary instruction as any 
President should desire, and without which he will be apt to 
fail of securing much popularity in college. It is the pleasant 
part of Presidential duties. 

The Professors who were licensed preachers kindly con 
sented to take their turns in preaching on the Sabbath as well 
as on Thursday evening, so that my turn did not come gener 
ally oftener than a quarter part of the time ; though some 
years, especially on the Sabbath, it amounted to a third. As 
pastor of the church, however, I usually held an additional 
weekly conference, and in times of revival, meetings for 
prayer and preaching were often greatly multiplied, so that 
some years as much as half my time was given to ministerial 
labors. I attended and conducted prayers each morning in the 

In a College so straitened as was ours in its funds, pecuniary 
matters form* no small part of a President s duties. All bills 
against the College must be brought by him before the Pru 
dential Committee, and when I was President they were first 
brought before the Faculty. Another important duty required 
the President to decide upon the religious qualifications of 
from forty to ninety applicants for aid from the Charity Fund. 


Still more onerous is the duty of examining from thirty to 
sixty candidates for aid from the Education Societies, chiefly 
the American. For it is necessary every quarter to receive 
and disburse the appropriations made to the beneficiaries, and 
to make a return as often to the Society. 

There are three bodies of men officially connected with 
College, at whose meetings the President is expected to 
preside, and for which his duty is to prepare business. The 
first is the Trustees, whose meetings, in ordinary times, are 
only once a year. The second is the Prudential Committee, 
who look after pecuniary affairs, and almost any thing, in 
fact, needed to be done in the absence of the Trustees. 
These hold their meetings regularly as often as once a month, 
and frequently much oftener. The third is the Faculty, who 
hold a weekly meeting for attending to the discipline and 
government of the College, considering petitions, and seeing 
to it that every thing is in place and in order. Here every 
thing that makes friction or is out of gear, among officers or 
students, is developed, and though men who have a knack 
of throwing off personal responsibility and shirking their 
duties can go through such meetings lightly, and even 
jocosely, they often weigh heavily upon the President, who 
is personally responsible for the proper adjustment and 
management of the whole machine. Consequently these 
Faculty meetings, held, as they usually are, in the evening, 
and sometimes protracted to a late hour, are among the 
most trying of a President s duties. They often wore very 
much upon me, especially when followed, as they sometimes 
were, by the admonition, dismissal, or expulsion of delin 
quents. In almost every such case, the public sentiment 
and sympathy in College would be with the offender, how 
ever gross his crimes. The same would generally be the 
case with friends at home and with the community at Inn:* . 
A college Faculty are looked upon by many as an aristo 
cratic, arbitrary and tyrannical set, whom every humane man 
is bound to oppose, and multitudes who never saw even the 


outside of a college, feel fully competent to sit in judgment 
upon their acts and to denounce them. It is this outside 
sympathy with those who are under discipline that does more 
than any thing else to sustain them in their misdeeds and to 
encourage the rebellions that are the frequent consequence of 
college discipline, and it is the necessity of thus going against 
the popular will, and of encountering reactions as the conse 
quence that may rend the college in pieces, that is more trying 
to a President than all his literary labors. Even in a Chris 
tian college, where is often a sprinkling of some of the most 
difficult elements to control, he is not unfrequently made to 
feel that he sits upon a volcano, which, though now quiet, may 
at any moment become active. 

My epistolary correspondence in the Presidency was 
peculiarly onerous. I had previously been so much of a jack 
at all trades that I had laid myself open to inquiries and 
assaults from all classes. The same mail (and I hardly exag 
gerate the literal fact,) might bring inquiries about some point 
in the theory of temperance how to employ garnet in making 
sand-paper how to reconcile the imputation of Adam s sin 
with our sense of justice where to find the best beds of 
sulphate of baryta whether I would like to exchange or buy 
shells, minerals and fossils how cheaply an indigent young 
man can go through the college and with what helps whether I 
know of any one who will make a good teacher of a common 
school, an academy, or a professor in a college or any one to 
supply a pulpit what I think of a new theory of drift, or of 
latent heat or new views of the relations of geology to 
Moses or a new poem or a new work all of which are sent 
and an answer requested, if possible, by return mail. During 
my Presidency, I calculated that I was obliged to answer as 
many as four hundred or five hundred letters, annually, and 
to these should be added at least one hundred recommenda 
tions to students going out to teach school, and for other 
purposes, and to graduates. 


Besides the above items a multitude of miscellaneous matters 
relating to the general affairs of College and its government 
and discipline, devolve upon the President, from which there 
is no escape, and though unknown to the world, they are 
among the most trying of his duties. 


I shall refer only to a few of the most prominent of these, 
such as the Faculty and Trustees used to spend much time in 
settling, but which, to use a homely phrase, "wouldn t stay 

It would meet the approbation of nearly all college officers 
to say that the government of students should be paternal, and 
it has been a favorite maxim with some that they stand in 
loco parentis. There is much truth in this view, but the 
parallel between the two forms of government fails in some 
points. "While the general form of college government is 
parental, in many respects it must be military. In many cases 
there is a want of that reverence and affection of pupils towards 
their teachers which is felt even by the wayward child towards 
his parents. Hence it is necessary, on this and other accounts, 
to have rules more rigid, and enforced more by mere authority 
than in the family. In case of combined resistance to the 
laws, it is necessary to make the military element stand out 
very prominently. So that, in fact, college government is 
neither strictly parental nor entirely military, but a mixture 
of both, so as to be sui generis. Precisely how much of cadi 
element to introduce in different cases is the occasion of prnt 
difficulty, and often of discordant views, and it is one of those 
points which, varying with the different dispositions and views 
of teachers, can never be settled. 

As to the matter of government, I felt exceedingly my 
incompetence when I took the Presidency. On one point, 
however, I adopted views in advance of those generally acted 
on in the colleges. In my Inaugural Address I said : " Every 


young gentleman who comes here, with scarcely an exception, 
knows very well how he ought to conduct, and how he must 
conduct, in order to go successfully through his four years 
course. And I would say to him, * Here are our rules which 
we have found necessary ; and if you join us we shall place 
entire confidence in your disposition and determination to 
observe them. We throw you on your own responsibility, as 
a young gentleman who knows how to conduct and can be 
trusted. We shall not exercise over you any vile system of 
espionage, or suspect you of any secret and dishonorable 
course, until forced to it by the strongest evidence. Now, in 
the hearts of most young men, before they have become 
corrupt, there is too much of true nobility to abuse such confi 
dence, and meanly to violate the rules which they know to be 
good, and which they have promised to observe. Let them be 
trusted, therefore, and let not unreasonable suspicion destroy 
their self-respect and sense of honor. But if you are compelled 
at length to give up your confidence in the integrity of an 
individual and a practiced instructor sees this very early 
let him be privately told that since he cannot conform to the 
rules of the institution, and is receiving no benefit from it, and 
the influence of his example is bad, he had better leave it 
before it is necessary to make his case public, and while he 
can do it without disgrace." 

These principles were extensively acted upon during my 
administration, and we thought with no small degree of success. 
Individual officers carried them so far in some instances that 
when they happened to become acquainted with very serious 
misdemeanors by a student, they would say to him, " Now if I 
make these facts known to the Faculty they will be compelled 
to dismiss or expel you. But if you choose to make a serious 
effort to reform, I will lock this information in my own bosom 
until you offend again, and if you permanently reform, it shall 
never go from me." I am happy to say that in many cases 
this course was eminently successful, and saved some men to 


society who have become highly useful, but who never could 
have survived the disclosure of their misdeeds. 

And here I confess that I adopted a principle on 
this subject in my treatment of young men which I some 
times almost believe to be theoretically true, viz.: that 
often, quoad hoc, they are deranged, and therefore 
when grossly insulted personally, I did not feel it necessary to 
notice it. I mean, that in college they come under the influ 
ence of views, feelings, and prejudices, so different from those 
of men in common life, that charity should lead us to regard 
them as we would jnen under strong hallucination, if not 
partial insanity, assured that after they have left college they 
will see the fallacy of many of the sentiments and prejudices 
that lead them while in college to abuse one another, oppose 
the Faculty, justify convivial excesses, and sympathize strongly 
with those disciplined for gross immoralities, so as even to 
organize rebellion against lawful authority. I had found that 
if we could, by bearing or forbearing, get such men through 
college and away from the influence of false notions, they 
would generally rally and become respectable. Hence, I 
made every effort to get them over this Rubicon, and never 
suffered the grossest personal insults, if unknown to the 
world, to prevent my laboring in behalf of one whom I looked 
upon as infatuated. 

But I will not enlarge on the subject of college discipline, 
although memory suggests a great multitude of its facts and 

These, at different periods, have been fruitful sources of 
excitement, jealousy, and heart-burning among the students 
and towards the Faculty. The secret societies would of coursi- 
have little prestige were they not strongly exclusive, so as in 
fact to leave out a majority of the students, nor unless those 
selected embraced the elite as to scholarship. But the 
majority thus passed by, or rather as they would regard it, 


made the mud-sills on which the secret societies rested, 
would not be very well contented in such a position, and the 
same Faculty that had granted permission for the formation of 
the secret societies could not refuse the application for one of 
a contrary character. But this subjected them to the jealousy 
of the secret societies. There would be a desperate struggle 
among the students to obtain the leading men in the classes for 
the different societies, and they would ere long come to regard 
this matter as one of the most important interests in college, 
and they would of course suppose the Faculty took as deep 
an interest in it as they did. Hence, they would imagine that 
the different officers were prejudiced in behalf of or against 
this and that society, and suffered their prejudices to affect the 
marks they gave for rank, especially as not unfrequently some 
of the officers had been while undergraduates and were still 
members of some of the societies ; so that if in an exhibition 
or at Commencement a particular society had failed of securing 
many high appointments, here was the cause. Quite as strong, 
too, were the suspicions of injustice when the anti-secret 
society were deficient in like manner. Occasionally, these 
suspicions would break forth into, open complaints, in the 
form of petitions or remonstrances. Whereas many of us 
did not know, and took care not to know, to what secret or 
anti-secret society one student in a hundred belonged. But 
lynx-eyed jealousy made us all active partisans, and we were 
obliged to fight to avoid fighting. 

This system of secret societies was not confined to one 
college in the country, but extended to nearly all ; so that 
if driven away from one, its members would find friends with 
open arms at other institutions ready to receive them with the 
honors of martyrdom. The colleges for a time, however, 
were so annoyed, that they were led seriously to inquire 
whether the evil ought not to be attacked either singly or 
unitedly. Wishing to learn the views of the different Northern 
Colleges, I addressed some inquiries to most of them, and 
got replies from their Presidents. The evil seems for several 


years past to have in a good measure subsided ; at least, I 
have heard but little of it. But I feel as if the testimony of 
so many eminent and judicious men ought to be put upon record ; 
for, though like the waves of temperature which rise and fall, 
the society wave be now at its ebb, it may swell again to a 
dangerous height. I make, therefore, a few extracts from the 
letters which I then received, suppressing names, because I 
have not obtained liberty to give them. 

" There was a time," says one President, " when I thought the 
literary influence of these societies favorable, because they appeared 
to awaken emulation in study, and thus in a considerable degree to 
elevate the standard of attainment in our classes. More recently 
however, and especially since their number has been so greatly multi 
plied, this influence has been less observable. I fear, indeed, that their 
influence on the standard of scholarship has in many cases proved 
depressing. As it respects their moral and religious influence, I enter 
tain some doubt. There have been times when they have appeared to 
furnish avenues through which religious influences have more effect 
ually reached the minds of our young men than could have been ex 
pected under other circumstances. In general, however, I fear the 
opposite of this is true." 

" Could these associations be altogether removed from the institu 
tions of learning in our country, I should think it a result in which 
friends of learning, and especially the officers of colleges, would have 
great occasion to rejoice. My conviction is that no such attempt 
would be successful unless all the institutions, where branches of such 
societies exist, were united in. the measure. Might not even the most 
systematic efforts directed to such an end, only result in making them 


Says another President : " As soon as the Faculty ascertained that 
such societies were in existence, they ordered the students to break off 
their connection with them, stating explicitly that they could not and 
would not be permitted. The parents and guardians of the young men 
were also informed by circular, that such societies were prohibited." 

" We have no Phi Beta Kappa, and we are not desirous to have one. 
We have understood that the Alpha Delta, etc., have had a bad effect 
in. other colleges, and I think the cooperation of all our colleges would 
be desirable in opposing all secret societies, not fully authorized by 
the Trustees and Faculties." 


A third head of a college writes as follows : 

It is strongly contended by the friends of these societies that their 
literary influence is good, and in some respects it may be so ; but we 
regard their influence as unfavorable upon the prescribed course of 
study. In some few instances, which have come to our knowledge, a 
restraining moral influence has been exerted over young men inclined 
to dissipation by their more serious or religious associates in these 
societies, but we fear that the effect is oftener to lower the tone of 
religious character in the pious young men belonging to them. Their 
general effect is to sow dissensions and produce factions in a degree in 
which they were never known to exist here before, and so as to render 
the elections of the several societies scenes of most unhappy division." 

"We are unanimously and decidedly of opinion that it would be 
desirable to have all these secret societies rooted out of our colleges, 
and have made up our minds to request the Board, at their next meet 
ing, to pass laws forbidding their existence." 

From a fourth President we have the following : 

" The literary and religious effect bad : the moral effect equivocal 
on good boys rather injurious on bad boys rather beneficial. Mem 
bership lowers the tone of piety generally non-membership operates 
injuriously on the character and the standing of the individuals con 

"We once discountenanced and endeavored to suppress them and 
they \vere visibly suppressed, but existed unseen in a still worse form 
on the withdrawal of our influence they gradually reappeared." 

" I have made one, nay more than one ineffectual attempt to rid this 
college* of their influence. So far as I have seen all direct opposition 
has only aggravated the evil : and latterly my efforts have been directed 
to the modification and direction, rather than to the extermination of 
these societies, which I have always regarded as an evil latterly as 
an evil inseparable from an assemblage of young men perhaps of men 
of any age, etc." 

A fifth President speaks as follows : 

"The social, moral, and religious influences have been modified 
with the state of feeling at different times ; but on the whole my opin 
ion is that they have been evil and sometimes very much so. They 
create clans and factions, and put men socially, in regard to each 
other, into an artificial and false position. Their tendency is to lead 
men to associate only with a small number with whom they may have 
been thrown by accident, and to narrow the intellect and the feeling. 
Of course the alienation of feeling and want of cordiality thus created 
are not favorable to a right moral and religious state." 


"I suppose it would be desirable that secret societies should be 
rooted out of our colleges and from every other place. If all these 
paltry and rival associations could be at once and forever broken up 
there can be no doubt it would be a great blessing. As the thing is 
now, I very much doubt whether, with such facilities for concealment, 
it would be possible for the officers of the colleges to do any thing that 
would be effectual." 

The sixth gentleman writes thus : 

" There is reason to believe that some, at least, of those societies, 
have on the whole an injurious influence, by exciting animosities, 
keeping late hours, offering temptations for drinking, wasting time, 
incurring useless expense, etc. There are altogether too many of 

"We have not undertaken to root out these societies; though we 
have sometimes made the expediency of attempting it a subject of in 
quiry. Compulsory measures would probably render some of them 
REALLY secret, instead of being little more than nominally so." 

The seventh President gives his opinion as follows : 

" I am of opinion that the tendency of such societies is bad of neces 
sity, that is so long as they have the power, by means of secercy, of 
doing mischief. They have led to greater unkindness and ill feeling 
than almost any thing else in college." 

" I have already drawn up a series of acts to be passed by our Cor 
poration, which will, if enacted, very much tend to relieve the difficulty. 
They require 1st, that the constitution, laws, records, list of officers 
and members be always open to my inspection : 2d, that all the meet 
ings be held by day-light, on Saturday, at such time and place as I 
shall appoint : 3d, I, or any officer of college whom I may appoint, 
shall, at discretion, attend any meeting of the society : 4th, if these 
laws are violated or evaded, the Faculty have authority to suppress 
them as they may deem expedient. I would incomparably rather 
resign my place than allow young men the right to meet in secret 
when they choose, without the knowledge of the Faculty." 

" The A. A. 4>." says an eighth President, "has lately been intro 
duced here. Its professed object is literary. I do not know if there 
be any other secret societies of this description." " Judging from the 

characters of the young men belonging to whose names I see 

on a catalogue of the A. A. <1>. printed at New Haven, in 1845, no bad 
influence could well be enacted by a society of which they were known 
to be members." 

The only secret society, that already named, known to exist here, 
is supposed to be harmless, and its meetings are permitted to be held. 


If any society of a different description were known to exist, it would 
be prohibited ; the students would be forbidden to join it ; and if it 
were found out that they persevered in doing so, after proper caution, 
they would be dismissed." 

The reply of the ninth President was as follows : 
"Their influence not suspected at first, but found to be bad. They 
break the college into parties, produce jealousies, contentions and a 
difficulty of promoting any object of general utility among the students. 
Nothing but evil results, or is likely to result from them upon members 
themselves as students, or as Christians, and no good to those who are 
not members. They are a mere plague to any college." 

" The societies have not disturbed the order of the college so as to 
call for discipline. But we fear the evil will grow, if unchecked, and 
we are determined to arrest it by law, if the good sense of the students 
does not prevail." 

These testimonies and opinions were of essential service to 
us in making up our minds what course duty required us to 
adopt, annoyed as we frequently were by the secret, and at 
length also by the anti-secret societies. They pressed hard 
upon us, most so, I am sorry to say, when the College was in 
a depressed and critical state, and they thought we should 
yield much rather than come to an open rupture with so large 
a portion of the College. It was indeed a not unfrequent resort 
in those perilous times, when parties were determined to carry 
their points, to threaten if we did not comply with their wishes 
to leave College. But such an intimation always sealed the 
fate of any petition, even when it might otherwise be granted. 
For we should sooner have seen the College scattered to the 
winds than to seem to be moved by such a threat. We did 
not find it necessary to take any active measures against these 
societies, and they have been suffered ever since to exist. And 
I am confident that the evils feared from them have much 
diminished. I impute this in part to the great increase of their 
number. For so long as we allowed one to exist we could not 
consistently deny petitions for the formation of half a dozen 
others. But such a number took in necessarily nearly all 


College, and thus almost every one had a chance of being one 
of the elite. 


It would surprise most parents to be informed that the two 
most powerful influences brought to bear upon their sons while 
in college, are societies and college honors ; understanding by 
the last term not merely the honors bestowed by the Faculty, 
but by the students also in their various organizations. Yet 
such is the conclusion to which I have been forced by my 
observation. I except those cases where a religious influence, 
as in conversion, comes in to overmaster all other moral forces, 
and doubtless there are other individual exceptions. But the 
mighty power of the two sources mentioned is too obvious to 
be overlooked by any one conversant with the interior life of a 
college. I shall refer to only a few of the signs by which it is 

There is first the great efforts put forth to secure the elec 
tion of favorite candidates to the offices of honor and trust in 
the various associations. These elections are often as hotly 
contested as are those for the various offices in our State and 
National governments. Then there is the desperate struggle 
that takes place at the commencement of the collegiate year, 
to secure the best and largest number of the new comers for 
the different societies, to give popularity and prestige, and thus 
make office as well as membership in them more honorable. 
These elections are rarely carried through without exciting 
personal hostilities that do not pass away with the occasion. 
But as these transactions do not come into collision with the 
Faculty, I shall not go into details. 

There is, secondly, the extreme sensitiveness manifested 
among students in regard to the honors bestowed by the Fac 
ulty. Their rank at the various public performances and at 
Commencement is the one thing on which most of them fix 
their eyes from first to last most anxiously. Such is the system 
adopted by the Faculty that the standing is not officially indi- 


cated fully till near the end of their course. Else, probably, 
many more, disheartened or disgusted, would quit the institution 
than now do, giving up their efforts to obtain a public education 
or trying their fortunes at some other college. In Freshman 
year, certainly the first term, not a few are looking confidently 
for the Valedictory. However, if not intolerably self-conceited, 
they soon learn to moderate their expectations. For ere long 
the shrewder minds in the classes locate the rank of their 
fellows often with considerable accuracy. Driven from the 
Valedictory, the ambitious man, sustained perhaps by the 
flattering opinion of the members of some society of which he 
is member, and which would be honored by his honors, clings 
for a time to the Salutatory then to the Philosophical 
Oration then to the first class English Orations ; then to the 
second, then to the third class, or as it used to be, to the Dis 
putation, the Dissertation, the Disquisition, the Essay, the 
Colloquy, and the Conference. Many at length find them 
selves located below the line of appointments, since often that 
is the place of nearly half the class. Few, however, will be 
driven to that conclusion till the close of Junior year, and 
perhaps the larger part not till the distribution of Commence 
ment honors at the close of Senior year. But whenever their 
standing is publicly fixed, and they find it, as great multitudes 
always do, below what they expected, it generally gives a 
terrible blow to their hopes, and they feel as if the great object 
of their education had failed. Even devotedly pious young 
men often conclude that their hopes of usefulness are blasted, 
and that they may as well abandon the idea of becoming min 
isters and missionaries because it now turns out that they have 
not the requisite talents for usefulness. I have repeatedly 
heard such make these statements with tears in their eyes. 
Then again, it is terribly mortifying so to disappoint anxious 
friends, who had been flattered with the idea that their sons 
and acquaintances stood very high in college because they did 
in the academy. They had calculated to be present at Com 
mencement to see their young friends honored at graduation. 


But now they will not come at all, and the student himself 
will, if possible, avoid being present. Indeed, it does require 
no small amount of philosophy, and of religion too, to make it 
a pleasant occasion for a student merely to witness the suc 
cessful performance of and the showering down of bouquets 
upon successful rivals, while his only chance to appear upon 
the stage is to receive his diploma in silence. 

It is natural in such, cases to presume that there must have 
been favoritism and injustice in assigning the rank of the dis 
appointed student, and hence strong prejudices are awakened 
towards particular members of the Faculty, or against them 
all. And probably at no time is the spirit of rebellion more 
easily roused and developed, than after the public announce 
ment of appointments. Some are dreadfully grieved, and 
some are highly exasperated. I have known a worthy young 
man refuse to take a degree and I believe he has ever since 
refused because, although he had assigned to him a first 
class English oration the word " Philosophical " was not pre 
fixed to it, as he expected. And many a time have I known 
applicants to be released from performing the assigned part, 
sometimes on account of health, or from conscientious scruples, 
or for no reason, when we knew that the true reason was 
dissatisfaction with the appointment. 

A man in public office can hardly spend his time more 
unprofitably than in assigning reasons to the proud and ambi 
tious for having disappointed their hopes. The stronger and 
more numerous the reasons, the more exasperated are they. 
But in this matter I found many honest and conscientious 
young men, not inordinately ambitious, who sincerely thought 
that their failure to receive an appointment, or only one 
rather low, was an evidence that they could not be useful in 
future life, and had mistaken the path of duty. I would say 
to them, that three years hence not one man in ten thousand 
in the community will know or care whether you received an 
appointment or not in college, or of what grade it was, if they 
only know that you graduated honorably. Your success in 


life will depend mainly upon what you do hereafter, and men 
will accept and employ you for just what they find you 
capable of doing. Your literary course is only just begun, 
and you have now got the means of development. But all 
such suggestions made little impression. I therefore resorted 
to another argument. A large number of foreign missionaries 
had gone forth from our College, all of whom, with scarce an 
exception, had become very useful, as every body acknowl 
edged. I looked up their literary standing when they left 
College, and found, curiously enough, that it corresponded 
tolerably well to the assignments of a large class at Com 
mencement. The facts seem to me to possess a permanent 
interest, and therefore I subjoin a list of the appointments 
and non-appointments of all the missionaries from Amherst, 
described under Section VI. 

Henry J. Van Lennep, 1837. 

1. Ebenezer Burgess, 1831. | 2. James G. Bridgman, 1842. 

Philosophical Orations. 
1. David O. Allen, 1823. | 2. Edwin E. Bliss, 1837. 

Greek Oration. 
Elias Riggs, 1829. 

English Orations. 

1. Elijah C. Bridgman, 1826% 

2. George W. Boggs, 1827. 

3. Reuben Tinker, 1827. 

4. Story Hebard, 1828. 

5. Justin Perkins, 1829. 

6. Samuel .A. Taylor, 1837. 

7. William W. Howland, 1841. 

8. Isaac G. Bliss, 1844. 

9. Eliphal Maynard, 1844. 
10. H. P. Herrick, 1849. 

11. Charles Hartwell, 1849. 

12. Henry Lobdell, 1849. 

13. S. E. Bishop, 1846. 

14. G. 0. Baldwin, 1851. 

15. Daniel Bliss, 1852. 

16. H. N. Barnum, 1852. 

17. C. F. Morse, 1853. 

18. M. H. Hitchcock, 1854. 

19. George Washburn, 1855. 

20. Amherst L. Thompson, 1856. 


1. Oliver P. Powers, 1830. i 3. James C. Bryant, 1836. 

2. Benjamin Schneider, 1830. | 4. Joseph T. Noyes, 1845. 


1. Stephen Johnson, 1827. , 6 Josiah Tyler, 1845. 

2. Benjamin W. Parker, 1829. 

3. James L. Merrick, 1830. 

7. A. G. Beebee, 1850. 

8. F. A. Douglass, 1851. 

(Philosophical Diss.) | 9. O. P. Allen, 1852. 

4. Samuel C. Damon, 1836. I 10. I. F. Clarke, 1854. 

5. Joel S. Everett, 1840. 

Joseph G. Cochran, 1842. 

1. Ashur Bliss, 1829. 

2. Henry Lyman, 1829. 

3. William Arms, 1830. 


4. Henry A. Homes, 1830. 

5. Obadiah M. Johnson, 1832. 

6. Leander Thompson, 1835. 

Alonzo Chapin, 1826. 

John Taylor Jones, 1825. 

No Appointment. 

1. Edward Jones, 1826. (Col d.) 

2. Isaac Bliss, 1828. 

3. Aldin Grout, 1831. 

4. Israel W. Searl, 1832. 

5. George B. Rowel, 1837. 

6. William Walker, 1838. 

7. Henry M. Adams, 1851. 

8. M. M. Carleton, 1851. 

9. Samuel C. Dean, 1853. 

10. J. H. Dodge, 1856. 

11. Henry M. Bridgman, 1857. 

12. Alvin B. Goodale, 1858. 

It is easy to see how such a table as this must make any 
reasonable Christian man feel how ridiculous is his plea that he 
must give up the idea of being useful in the world, because he 
failed to obtain a Commencement appointment, when he sees 
such names as Edward Jones, Aldin Grout, William "Walker, 
and Henry M. Adams on the list of non-appointees ; and the 
same may be said of the lower appointments, where we find 
the name of the martyr Lyman. It may, indeed, be true 
that the higher appointments bring names before us who have 
taken the lead in missionary usefulness, as superior talents 
conjoined with devoted piety ought always to do in every 
enterprise. But were the names of the whole preceding list 
laid before a candid man and he was requested to designate 


their literary standing in college, from their missionary labors, 
he would probably make some strange inversions of Faculty 

There is one very striking case among these missionary 
non-appointees, that of Edward Jones. He was the only 
colored student who ever graduated at Amherst. A few years 
after graduation he went out to Liberia as a missionary of the 
Episcopal church. He seems to have transferred his relations 
to an English society and was appointed President of the 
college at Sierra Leone, where he still continues. The 
English bishops, as Rev. Dr. Perkins informs me, have lately 
been discussing the question of making Mr. Jones a bishop, 
also, and the only reason why it is not done is that such a 
dignity has never been conferred upon a colored man. It is 
not probable that many of our highest missionary appointees 
will get ahead of President Jones in rank and dignity. 

The spirit of rebellion, as I have already intimated, is very 
apt to be most rife in college after a class have learnt to whom 
honorary appointments have been assigned and from whom 
they have been withheld. It is natural that the disloyal feel 
ing should culminate about Commencement, so that if any 
event should then turn up that would form a nucleus of opposi 
tion, the rebellious feelings would easily crystallize around it. 
Then, too, would be the most uncomfortable time for the 
Faculty to meet it, occupied as they are with the Trustees and 
others from abroad. I met one case of this kind in a peculiar 
manner, which may be condemned, although it was successful. 
Probably neither Trustees nor Faculty ever heard of it, but 
it is not now improper to describe it. One of the appointees 
was requested, or perhaps required, to modify or omit certain 
parts of his performance which the Faculty knew would 
injure the College in public estimation. He presented a dis 
torted view of the case to his Class, and in their zeal they drew 
up a remonstrance, which, .probably without their being con 
scious of it, threw them into a state of rebellion. This they 
put into my hands only a few hours previous to Commence- 


ment, when my whole time was occupied by the Trustees. I 
sent for the committee of the Class and said to them, " Gentle 
men, you misunderstand this matter. It was so and so, and 
not as you state it. But your document brings you, uncon 
sciously, I doubt not, into a state of rebellion against the 
government of the College. If I present it, either to the 
Faculty or the Trustees, I feel sure that we shall have no 
Commencement, nor you any diplomas. I have, therefore, 
nearly made up my mind to pocket this paper, and not let the 
Faculty or Trustees know any thing about it, but to bear the 
whole force of it myself, rather than bring such evil upon you 
and the College. If satisfied that they have misapprehended 
the case, the Class should rescind these resolutions ; it would 
relieve the whole difficulty. But as to that matter you can 
do as you please." Not more than an hour or two after 
this interview, the committee returned with a vote of the Class 
rescinding the resolutions. Had I not been satisfied, from 
the character of the Class, that they did not intend to insult me 
or the Faculty, I should not have ventured upon this course. 
Whenever the applications to be excused the performance 
of assigned parts were numerous or strong, or scruples of 
conscience were manifested against the system of honorary 
appointments, we generally regarded it as another evidence 
of great sensitiveness about rank. For we found most usually 
that the wish to be excused, on account of poor health or 
pressing engagements, or conscientious scruples, came from 
those who had low appointments. And it would not be 
reasonable to suppose that all the bad health, and all nice 
sensibility of conscience, should be confined to the lower part 
of the scale. I do not doubt that there are some cases in 
which students are really quite indifferent to college honors, 
others in which diffidence or feeble health have made them 
feel really unable to perform their part, and others in which 
men have had honest doubts whether honorary distinctions in 
college should not be opposed. But these various excuses 
have usually gone in waves over the College. At one time, 


formerly, conscience became so loud in its remonstrances that 
the whole body of students united in a petition to the 
Trustees, to do away with the whole system of honorary 
appointments. The most noted rebellion the College has ever 
experienced resulted from the treatment by the Faculty of one 
who pleaded conscientious scruples against the performance 
of his part. This excuse, indeed, became so ridiculous at 
length, that ebb tide on this subject has I believe continued 
ever since. Yet there have been seasons since when bad 
health became alarmingly prevalent. And some of the Fac 
ulty have been so uncharitable as to suppose that if the 
Professor of Mathematics could have told them how to dis 
tribute a single high appointment among many, it would 
have proved a great panacea, both for the mind and the bodv. 


This is another of the standing evils of College, which 
weighs heavily upon the peace of the President, especially in 
Amherst, where he is located so near College that the mid 
night pow-wow can hardly fail to disturb his slumbers. 
Formerly these assaults upon the new Class used to cease 
after a few weeks, certainly with the first term. But in later 
years the disturbance is kept up through the year, and indi 
viduals, under the name of making sport with freshmen, take 
occasion to gratify personal grudges against individuals. This 
of course provokes retaliation, and lays the foundation for a 
quarrel through the whole of college life. But even when 
fun and sport are the professed object, such recklessness and 
abuse are often witnessed as to result in lasting, and some 
times fatal effects. The Scripture hath well described it 
when the wise man says : " As a madman who casteth fire 
brands, arrows and death, so is the man that deceiveth his 
neighbor and saitk, am I not in sport ? " Take a painful 
example that fell under my own observation : 

In the autumn of 1847 a young man from a neighboring 
town joined College, of whom we knew little, save that he 


was a good scholar, and brother of a man who graduated only 
three years before, leaving an excellent character as a scholar 
and a Christian. The Freshman, however, soon disappeared 
from College in consequence of poor health. Passing near 
his residence some months after, and learning that he was quite 
low, I visited him, and found him indeed in the last stages of 
consumption. Finding him sustained by the Christian s hope, 
and having had dark hints that his sickness had originated 
from the treatment he received as a Freshman, I made 
inquiry, and found the suspicions painfully true. His assail 
ants, whom he did not, and perhaps could not name, had 
entered his sleeping room and drenched his bed with water. 
But being a stranger in town, and unwilling to confess himself 
driven from College, he ventured to occupy the driest part of 
his wet bed. Up to that night he had never been sick ; since 
that time he had never been well, and now felt himself past 
recovery. "Do you now feel," said I, "as if you could forgive 
those who have thus murdered you ? " For a moment I per 
ceived there was a struggle in his feelings ; but at length he 
replied : " Yes, I forgive them." He had cheerfully given up 
all his worldly prospects ; but I did not wonder that he should 
reluctate when asked to pardon the authors of all his calami 
ties ; for I am afraid that my own heart even at last had less 
of a forgiving spirit than his. It was more than I could bear 
to see this Christian, talented young man, who had looked 
forward to the ministry, now on the bed of death solely as the 
result of the brutal assault of those who probably would prove 
only curses to the world. 

Thus died JONATHAN D. TORRANCE, of Enfield, the victim 
of a barbarous college custom. Whether his murderers still 
haunt the earth I know not, but I do know that they must 
meet him at the judgment seat 

The Christian public cannot understand why such barbarous 
practices are not rooted out of our colleges. But however 
faithful instructors are in ferreting out and punishing them, 
they will, in my opinion, continue so long as two other tilings 


continue. The first is a disposition in respectable society to 
listen with approbation and applause to the smart stories told 
by collegians about " rowing Freshmen," and outwitting officers 
in college. It is the desire of having some such feats to tell 
of to admiring friends and companions that forms the chief 
stimulus to the performance of such feats. Were their stories 
met among respectable people by frowns and rebukes, instead 
of approving smiles and commendations for smartness, abuses 
of Freshmen would soon be given up. Until Christian men 
and women will do this, I have no hope that this evil can be 
eradicated, and since there is no prospect that the community 
will thus act, I expect that these practices will continue. 
Many expect much when classes, after having been abused, 
pass unanimous votes that they will not abuse their successors. 
But I have seen so much of such movements, and know so 
well what such kind of unanimity means and how easy it is for 
young men to change their minds, and how contagious evil 
influences are in a Class, so that often it requires only a very 
few on the wrong side to bring large numbers there, that I 
have little confidence in any such movement. 

The other obstacle in the way of reformation is the disposi 
tion too often manifested in the older classes, even by many 
Christian, conscientious young men, to speak approvingly of 
the practice on account of its good effects upon forward, self- 
conceited young men. I have sometimes even heard tutors 
extenuating the evil by such a view. Let Sophomores only 
know that such an opinion is entertained even by a few of their 
Seniors, whether under-graduates or graduates, and the decrees 
of Professors against the evil will be like feathers thrown 
against a hurricane. Those, therefore, take a very serious 
responsibility who on so absurd a theory connive at such a 
practice. So long as they do it I expect that occasionally 
some unsuspecting Torrance will fall a victim. 

I might multiply almost indefinitely this list of petty annoy 
ances that make a President s seat more often a cushion of 
briars and nettles than of roses or feathers, even in the best 


regulated and most Christian of our colleges. For it does not 
require more than half a dozen really wicked and shrewd 
young men to keep a college in an almost constant state of dis 
turbance ; and the stronger the religious influence is in a 
college, the more certain will it be to catch thai undesirable 
half dozen, because godly parents who have a reckless son 
will send him there in the hope of his conversion. But I will 
not enlarge further on themes so unpleasant. 


Entering upon the Presidency under the circumstances 
already detailed, and with such wretched health, it is not 
strange that I early felt as if the pressure were too heavy for 
me and made me long for relief. Even as early as my second 
annual report to the Trustees I said that " I had reached that 
state in which my life is little else but a scene of severe suffer 
ing, while I have not the consolation of thinking that those 
sufferings are accomplishing any important good. I desire 
indeed not to strike my tent till I clearly see the cloud rising. 
Better would it be to die at my post ; and indeed I have felt 
that if the College could thereby be carried through its present 
exigency I ought not to shrink even from such a sacrifice. 
But when I see that probably the result is not to be obtained 
by this means, it looks to me as if the cloud were beginning to 
rise, and that I ought to be prepared to follow." 

How little understood by me at that time were the indica 
tions and dealings of Providence ! I found at length that my 
feebleness and despondency were the means through which 
help and deliverance came to the College. For they led me 
utterly to despair of any thing I could do to this end, so that 
if help should come it was not through my own strength or 
wisdom. Then, and not till then, was God s arm laid bare. 
I was led, as a preparation for my own release from the Pres 
idency, to seek the endowment of my Professorship, so that 
sure means might be provided for the support of my successor. 
God went before me and prepared the way for success, and 


then in rapid succession occurred that wonderful series of 
developments in our financial history which I have already 
described. The exhilaration produced by the change gave me 
new life to perform my duties and battle with disease. But 
the conflict still went on, and in 1847 my physician advised 
me to spend the spring in a warmer climate. I went to Rich 
mond, in Virginia, stopping a week or ten days in New York, 
and put myself under the care of Dr. Green, with his probang, 
nitrate of silver and iodine. The transition from the icy 
streets and boreal blasts of New York to the green and flowery 
banks of James River and the zephyrs of Richmond was 
delightful, and a quiet residence of six or seven weeks in the 
pleasant family of Dr. Wilder, proved of great service to my 
health, in connection with Dr. Green s medication, and gave 
me strength for at least two years more. 

During this sojourn at Richmond I met with several inci 
dents that might be of some interest were I to describe them 
here. It gave me some opportunity to witness the operations 
of slavery close at hand, which I believe is not apt to make a 
Northerner in love with it, though it often awakens as much 
compassion for the master as for his vassal. One also sees 
how complete a metamorphosis society must undergo if slavery 
is abolished, and it makes us fear that the present war cannot 
do it away unless it obliterates the masters and colonizes the 
country anew. One also becomes satisfied that the Northern 
system of free schools for all classes can never be brought into 
operation in a slave country, unless it be in the cities. 

But I must not go into speculations on these topics, although 
the present state of the country almost irresistibly invites to 
it. The most interesting incident that met me in relation to 
slavery, while at Richmond, was on a visit to the Mid Lothian 
Coal Mines, not far from that city. Into those mines, nearly 
a thousand feet deep, Mrs. Hitchcock and myself had descend 
ed in the miner s bucket, and were wandering about in the 
dark caverns of the mine, when we met with a blind slave, of 
whom I gave an account in one of the Richmond papers, and 


also in the " Amherst Express." The American Tract Society 
thought the facts important enough to constitute No. 126 of 
their tracts. 


In spite of the favorable and sustaining influences under 
which I was now acting, I found my constitution yielding to 
the insidious assaults of disease. I had given the Trustees to 
understand that just so soon as they could find another man 
to take my place, I should consider it a great favor to be 
released. Indeed, there was a sort of understanding when I 
took the Presidency, that when the College had passed through 
its pecuniary exigency I might be allowed to fall back to my 
former professorship. That exigency was now over ; the 
institution was free from debt, and with funds sufficient to 
enable it, with economy, to go successfully forward ; the ques 
tion of its permanent existence was now settled ; its numbers 
were increasing, and I did not cease from time to time to 
remind the Trustees of my wishes. Instead of heeding them, 
however, at their meeting in 1849 they voted, without any 
suggestion of mine, and even contrary to my wishes, to give 
me leave of absence for six months, for a tour to Europe. As 
my health and circumstances were I had no wish for such an 
excursion, but in the spring of 1850 every circumstance 
seemed to point me towards the rising sun, and reluctantly 
myself and Mrs. Hitchcock began our preparations for the 
voyage for it seemed indispensable that she should accom 
pany me, which was a real cross to her also. We went, and 
though I suffered much from wretched health and depressed 
spirits, yet Providence ordered every thing so mercifully 
almost miraculously, sometimes that we were carried over 
10,600 miles of travel without injury to a hair of our heads, 
and almost without the ordinary discomforts of travel. I did 
indeed suffer very much on both voyages, not merely from 
sea-sickness, but from the stirring up and aggravation of all 
my chronic complaints, and I think that my sufferings, 


during each voyage of ten or twelve days, was scarcely 
less than the same length of time in any fever of my life. 
But on the land I was never detained by poor health 
more than one or two days. Still I seemed to be losing 
ground all summer. My cough was aggravated, my appetite 
poor, and I became much emaciated. Indeed, I felt as if I 
could only live to get home to die, I ought not to expect more. 
But stopping a few hours in Halifax, and sauntering forth into 
the city, I met the pleasant north-west breeze of October, 
which always had exhilarated me in past years, if any thing 
would, and did now seem to awaken some of the old feeling. 
Our run to Boston was a pleasant one. I found every thing 
pleasant at home, and was even received with unexpected 
cordiality by the students ; so that my health went on improv 
ing for a considerable time. Health was not indeed restored, 
but simply new power acquired to contend with disease for a 
longer time. This recuperative influence was not wholly lost 
upon me for many years, and I doubt not that this European 
four has enabled me to perform double the labor since which 
I could have accomplished without it. 

It is not my purpose to draw out an itineracy of my foreign trip. 
It may not be irrelevant, however, to mention a few things not 
usually noticed in books of European travel. And as to my route 
from Liverpool, I will indicate only its general course. "We were 
accompanied by John Tappan, Esq., and lady, and as he had before 
visited Europe four or five times, and was willing to take the direc 
tion of our pecuniary affairs, and knew how to meet every exigency 
in travel, and I was ignorant of all, his presence, with that of his 
amiable wife, was a great favor, and saved me from many an uncom 
fortable dilemma. Our first trip was through the mountains of 
North Wales. Thence, we passed southerly, following the Wye, to 
Bristol ; thence we passed to Bath and Southampton, and crossed to 
the Isle of Wight, whose whole southern coast we explored, and 
passed thence to London, through Brighton. Just as we were about 
leaving London for the Continent, I received from the Government 
of Massachusetts a commission to visit the agricultural schools of 
Europe, and this modified my course. I determined to visit some 
of the principal agricultural schools of England, Ireland and 


Scotland, before passing over to the Continent. I went first to 
Cirencester, where is a large school; thence through Wales and 
Anglesey, to Dublin, in Ireland ; thence along the east coast, where 
are several schools, to the Giant s Causeway; thence through Bel 
fast, to Glasgow, and subsequently to the Highlands of Scotland, as 
far as the parallel roads of Lochaber ; thence to Edinburgh. From 
thence I went back to London, through the central parts of England ; 
from thence to Dover, and across the channel to Calais ; from thence 
through Belgium, and up the Rhine to Frankfort, Weissbaden, and 
Heidelberg ; from thence to Basle, in Switzerland; thence to Zurich, 
and over Mount Righi, to Lucerne ; from thence to Berne and Vevay ; 
from thence to Geneva, across Lake Leman ; thence to Chamouney ; 
thence through Tete Noire, to Martigny ; thence down the Rhone, 
and over Leman to Geneva again; thence over the Jura, across 
France, to Paris ; thence to Versailles, and to Grignon, where is an 
agricultural school ; thence back again to Paris ; thence to Boulogne, 
and across to Folkstone ; thence, through London, to Liverpool, 
where we embarked, and returned to Boston, having been absent 
158 days, and travelled 10,647 miles : 6,000 of which were upon the 
ocean, 2,444 in Great Britain, and 1,9G3 on the Continent. This 
gave as an average for each day of travel, 67 miles. Yet we did 
not hurry ; and it is an interesting fact, that such are now the facili 
ties of travel by steam-boats and railroads, that it is not necessary 
to allow much, if any time, for locomotion, so that we need only to 
calculate how much time we want at our stopping places. 

Before starting, I fixed upon the following as the chief objects of 
the tour. 

1. To recover health, or rather to arrest, for a little while, the 
progress of disease. Every other object I intended should be sub 
servient to this. 

2. To meet face to face, a few religious and scientific men 
with whom I had had a pleasant correspondence, or for whom I had 
acquired a high respect. 

3. To give my first attention to objects specially connected with 
my profession, viz. : the geology and scenery of the country, and 
the cabinets of natural history. 

4. To visit some of the most important of the literary and scien 
tific institutions, and to give special attention, as I concluded to do 
after reaching England, to the agricultural schools. 

5. To mingle as much as I could with the common people, and 
learn their condition and feelings. 


6. To take a glance, as far as time and strength would permit, at 
the old castles, cathedrals and the modern palaces, churches and 
private residences, roads, railroads, bridges and the galleries of art. 

7. To take the privilege of a cat in looking upon a king, a queen, 
a nobleman, or military chief, should such a one cross my path. 

With these objects in view, I adopted the following rules : 

1. To avoid great excitement and excessive fatigue, even though 
compelled to give up some of the objects above named. I curbed 
my ambition to see every thing of interest when I found it would too 
severely tax my powers of endurance. I met with some invalids, 
much stronger than I was, who very soon got themselves on the sick 
list by attempting too much, and they lost so much time in the physi 
cian s hands, that I believe I saw more in the long run than they did. 
Certainly, in five months of sight-seeing, I saw more than my 
memory would bring over the ocean. 

2. To content myself with seeing one or two things of a sort when 
not convenient to see more. 

3. Not to take many letters of introduction to gentlemen of dis 
tinction, or attempt to get introduced to them, merely to be able to 
say, on my return, that I had seen and conversed with them. I do 
not remember to have taken any letters of introduction, except one 
to Hugh Miller, kindly handed me by a gentleman as I was 
leaving Boston. 

We did not follow the usual route of tourists from Liver 
pool to London, but made a detour of some five hundred miles 
through North and South Wales, thence to Bath and South 
ampton, and to the Isle of Wight, and from thence through 
Brighton to London. This gave us an opportunity to see 
much of the most romantic scenery and the most interesting 
rock formations in England, the very classic ground, in fact, 
of English geology. We ascended Snowdon, the highest 
mountain in England, and Cader Idris, not much less elevated. 
When we reached tlie summit of Snowdon we encountered a 
heavy shower, and were enveloped in a dense fog. But ere 
long the clouds and fog settled down beneath us, and vista 
after vista opened through them, bringing at length into view 
all the wild scenery of the western coast of Wales, and dis 
closing prospects in every direction, of vast extent and deep 
interest. How interesting to be able to pick out marine petri- 


fied shells from the rock, at the summit, now thirty-five 
hundred feet above the sea level. The views from Cader 
Idris are some of them even more romantic, and the geology 
no less interesting. 

In passing into Wales we travelled over the famous rail 
road constructed by Stephenson, senior, with its numerous 
tunnels and its tubular bridges at Conway and Bangor, then 
the only structures of this kind in the world, and the wonder 
of mechanicians. At Bangor, too, is one of the best suspen 
sion bridges in the world, spanning the Menai Straits, as does 
the tubular bridge. Turning into the mountains, we travelled 
by post all the way to Bristol. This mode of travelling I 
have rarely seen noticed by travellers, and yet over the finely 
macadamized English roads, it is decidedly the most agreeable 
mode of transportation I have ever tried. There were four 
in our party, and we usually chose the carriage called " The 
Fly," which enabled us to accommodate ourselves to all kinds 
of weather. We tried this mode of travelling several times 
on the Continent, where the system did not seem as well 
regulated as in England, though our principal experience was 
a night trip over the Jura mountains, from Geneva to Dijon. 
But in England, by this mode you can go when and where 
you desire, and as fast or slow as horses can carry you. 
Probably the chief reasons why it is not more generally used, 
are that it requires more time than the railroad, the stage, or 
the diligence, and is considerably more expensive. But of all 
means of locomotion which I have ever tried, post travelling 
is the most agreeable. 

The most interesting phenomena which met me in the 
mountains of Wales, were the marks of ancient glaciers. 
Although I had then never seen a glacier, and had forgotten 
whether English geologists had supposed them once to have 
existed in Wales, a few days observation satisfied me that 
great masses of ice must once have descended from the high 
est parts of the mountains, through the valleys, wearing down 
and smoothing their bottoms and sides up to a certain altitude, 


the whole corresponding to glacier action. When, a few weeks 
subsequently, I attended the meeting of the British Scientific 
Association, a paper had been read on drift, and Sir Roderick 
L Murchison called on me to state my views as to the drift 
phenomena in America, compared with the same in Great 
Britain, I took the liberty of stating my strong conviction as 
to the ancient glaciers of Wales, and turning towards Profes 
sor Ramsey, who had charge of the geological survey of that 
district, I said : " So distinct are these markings that when 
that gentleman makes his final report, I shall expect to see a 
map of the ancient glaciers of Snowdonia." He bowed and 
smiled, but I had no subsequent conversation with him. Yet 
several years afterwards I met him at the meeting of the 
American Scientific Association in Montreal, where he read a 
paper on drift. I rose and stated what I had said before the 
British Association, and turning to Professor Ramsey, asked 
him whether my prediction had proved true, and whether he 
had mapped the glaciers of Snowdonia. "Yes," says he, 
" I have done it, and I took your mode of representing drift 
striae as my model," or words to that effect. 

I was much pleased with what I saw of the character of 
the Welch. I spent a Sabbath in Dolgelly, where is the old 
structure in which Owen Glendwyr held his Parliament in 
1404. The day was observed with great strictness, and the 
churches were filled. I became acquainted with several min 
isters of the Independent Church, and at the request of Rev. 
Cadwalder Jones, preached a sermon in English, which was 
translated into Welch by Rev. Mr. Rees, the well known mis 
sionary, and the other parts of the service were in Welch. I 
could see that the audience were much more interested in the 
sermon as translated, with some episodes of my personal his 
tory, as I was told, than in its original delivery. I could see 
also that the Welch language was admirably adapted for 
impassioned appeals. 

We made a rather thorough reconnoissance of the Isle of 
Wight, especially of its southern and western coast. The 


whole is full of interest, both for its civil history and its 
geology. I believe tourists do not usually go farther west 
than Freshwater Bay. But in my view the most romantic 
scenery and geology lie beyond, among the chalk needles and 
overhanging cliffs and domes of chalk, and the variegated and 
upturned strata of Alum Bay. These can be best seen by 
taking an open boat from Freshwater Bay, which in calm 
weather is quite pleasant. Let no geologist imagine that he 
has seen the Isle of Wight who has not been to Alum Bay. 


I met with an incident on this trip, and another subsequently in Lon 
don, that led me to inquire whether there is not a frankness and fidelity 
among English Christians rarely seen among us, and perhaps worthy 
of our imitation. As \ve passed through North Wales two or three 
clergymen, I believe of the Established Church, came into the cars on 
a pleasure excursion to Bangor. We soon got into conversation, and 
something which I said, I never could imagine what, led one of them 
to the suspicion that I was sceptical, or at least ignorant of experimental 
religion. I suspect that my military cap, which I had worn on ship 
board, and had not yet doffed, had something to do with awakening 
his suspicions that I had no sympathy with heart religion, and he at 
once, in a gentlemanly but decided manner, made a personal appeal 
and exhortation to me as to my state and prospects. As soon as I saw 
his object I encouraged him to go on, by my silence at least, and per 
haps by some ambiguous remarks, for I wanted to hear him through. 
When he had finished I said to him, "I thank you, Sir, for your fidelity, 
which I am rejoiced to see. I agree with you, and sympathize with 
you, in all you have said, and hope I know something experimentally 
on this subject." He was taken quite aback, and apologized for his 
apparent rudeness. 

Again, when in London, I called on a merchant in extensive busi 
ness in the vicinity of St. Paul s Cathedral, whose name was George 
Hitchcock I called without an introduction to make some inquiries 
about the name of Hitchcock in England. He received me cordially, 
but said at once " before we proceed to other business I should like to 
know your views on the great subject of religion." " Of course," said 
I, " I am a believer in Christianity." " That," said he, < is not exactly 
what I want to know but rather whether you feel yourself to be 
personally interested in Christ." This was to the point, and being 
answered satisfactorily, our subsequent interview was very pleasant. 

LONDON. 345 

I mention these instances because I have not met with such frankness 
and fidelity as this in our country, and it struck me not as rude and 
uncivil, but in accordance with true Christian character and impulses. 
To me, a stranger in a foreign land, it was certainly very agreeable ; 
much more so than the reserve and distance so common on our 
thoroughfares and among professing Christians. At least I felt rebuked 
for my own want of frankness and fidelity, as a Christian. 


After Daniel Webster had been a fortnight in London, he 
was asked what he thought of it, and he replied that he had 
not yet done wondering. A month s sojourn there, first and 
last, left me with much of the same feeling. But the principal 
objects and sights in and around the city have been so often 
described as to need nothing further from me. My peculiar 
tastes and objects brought me in contact with some things not 
usually visited, and I shall refer to a few of them briefly. 

My penchant for natural history led me to look up the 
collections of geology, zoology and comparative anatomy. Of 
course the British Museum was a place of frequent resort to 
which, as well as to its library, I was permitted daily access. 
But I found other collections of deep interest. One of these 
was that of the London Geological Society in Somerset House 
in the Strand. It is an admirable collection, but most unfor 
tunately situated as to light. I found this to be the case with 
a large part of the public cabinets which I saw in Europe. 
As we were at that time about erecting cabinets in Amherst, 
my attention was called particularly to this point. And I 
came to this conclusion, that where the light was introduced 
through sky-lights in the centre of the room, the specimens 
showed well ; still better, perhaps, if brought in through win 
dows in the walls immediately below that ceiling, and best of 
all, where there are such lights and sky-lights besides. This 
is the case with the new Museum of Economical Geology in 
Jermain Street, near Picadilly. This was erected by the 
government to receive the fruits of the geological survey of 
England, a similar one being built in Dublin in Ireland, and 


another in Scotland. I saw that only in London, and that 
only as a special favor, for in 1850 it was not open to the 
public. But even then it contained a rich collection, and as 
to light and arrangement, I think it ahead of any cabinet 
which I saw in Europe. How much better, for instance, did 
the specimens show than in the crowded and poorly lighted 
rooms of the School of Mines in Paris, which is an analogous, 
much older and more numerous collection. 

The natural history room of the great Museum in the 
city of York is lighted by windows in the upper part of the 
walls, and the fine collections are thus shown off to great 
advantage. How much better than in the comparatively dark 
rooms in the University of Dublin, and the Hunterian Museum 
of Glasgow. - In the University of Edinburgh the natural 
history rooms, as well as the library, are fitted up in a very 
excellent manner and costly style. I noticed that the stuffed 
animals are arranged in a very unusual manner. They are 
placed in various attitudes all over the floor, so that the visitor 
moves about among bears and hyenas, tigers and lions, with 
open mouths and life-like aspect. And I should think some 
persons of sensitive temperament would shrink from the 
promenade. The west room, containing the birds, shells and 
minerals, both in its architectural proportions and its lighting, 
is perhaps the finest I saw in Great Britain. The mineral 
cases are of mahogany. The library room is perhaps the 
most imposing, certainly for such a purpose, that I have ever 
seen. "What a contrast between this and the very plain, 
unpainted, unglazed shelves of some of the German 
Universities ! 

The Hunterian Museum, near Lincoln s Inn Fields, of Comparative 
and Morbid Anatomy, is perhaps the finest in Europe, and especially 
worthy the attention of Americans, because as yet we have only begun 
such collections. It is admirably lighted from near the top, and pre 
sents the subject of comparative anatomy in a most attractive light. 
\Ve have first, skeletons of the whole series of animals, from man 
downwards, systematically arranged. Then, in proper order, we have 
the softer parts of animals preserved in alcohol. The skeleton of the 


Irish Giant, 8 feet 4 inches high, stands by the side of that of a female 
dwarf only 10 inches high. There are extinct animals here as well as 
those now alive ; among the former, the Glyptodon, with its armadillo- 
like armor, three feet in diameter ; also, a cast of the skeleton of the 
famous giant bird, the Dinornis. Prof. Richard Owen, the ablest of 
European comparative anatomists, who was the soul of this collection, 
it is well known, first brought to light this great New Zealand bird. 
He had a room in the Museum, and- kindly spent an hour or two in 
showing us its riches. He brought forward the original bone a frag 
ment of a femur only six inches long, from which, by the laws of com 
parative anatomy, he first constructed and described the Dinornis the 
greatest zoological discovery of the present century. His friends 
warned him not to risk his reputation upon so slender a proof of the 
former existence of this bird, as the mere fragment of a bone ; but he 
had more confidence in the principles of anatomy than in their opinion, 
and as the result showed, with good reason. 

Among the private collections which I visited in London, was the 
great one in conchology, of Mr. Cummings, No. 80 Gower Street. 
This has a larger number of species of shells than any other in the 
world ; though as to varieties, it is said that Prof. Adam s collection at 
Amherst, is much richer. Agassiz pronounces it, in this respect, un 
equalled. Mr. Cummings collection is said to contain twenty-two 
thousand species and varieties. He paid for some small rare specimens 
one hundred dollars ; for a Carinaria, one hundred and fifty dollars ; 
and he spoke of another choice specimen purchased by himself, or some 
other one, at three hundred and fifty dollars. His collection is not 
arranged in cases so as to be accessible to public inspection, but is in 
drawers, so as to require much time and patience to examine it. 

I was much indebted, while in London, to the kind attentions of Dr. 
Gideon Man tell and Sir Charles Lyell. The former treated me like a 
brother, although I had no special claims upon his services. He 
showed me many new and rare things ; among which were gigantic 
Lizard bones, from the Wealden, and a specimen of the now nearly 
extinct bird called the Apteryx, of New Zealand. It had no wings, 
and its position was that of the Penguin. It comes nearer in character 
to the extinct Dinornis than any other known bird. 

Dr. Mantell also presented us with a ticket of admission to the 
Botanic Garden, in Regent s Park. This is open only to subscribers, 
who are the higher classes, (I believe not including the nobility,) of Lon 
don. It was promenade day when we went, and we had a fine oppor 
tunity to see the higher classes of the English metropolis, who certainly 
formed what may be called an elegant collection of gentlemen and 


ladies. But the plants and flowers were still more interesting. In the 
Conservatory I saw several of those living tropical species that throw 
light on those dug out of the rocks, such as the Zamia, the Cycas 
Araucaria, the Date Palm, etc. Beneath a large tent was collected 
about an acre, I judged, of some of the most showy American shrubs, 
chiefly the Rhododendron, Azalea (white and pink,) the Kalmia, etc., 
all in full bloom. They were brought there to be sold, and certainly 
formed the most gorgeous floral exhibition which I ever saw. 

To Sir Charles Lyell I was indebted for a ticket to dine with a Club 
composed of members of the London Geological Societv, to the number 
of about fifteen. The dinner was at six o clock, after which was 
a meeting of the Society, with a paper, and discussions. In such cases 
English scientific men appear to me remarkable for two things ; first 
for the frank and blunt manner in which they advanced their peculiar 
views, and for the vigor, and even sharpness, with which they comment 
upon those who differ from them, so that in some cases I suspected 
personal hostility. But I found that when they got an opportunity to 
Bpeak of their opponents, personally, they were so copious in their 
commendations that, in this country, we should call it flattery. I 
wish we had more of this frank, generous English manner, in the 
intercourse of our scientific men. 

After the geological meeting, Dr. Mantell introduced us into the 
soiree of the Royal Society, where was a large sprinkling of ladies and 
the Nepaul Ambassador, who was at that time producing considerable 
sensation in London, but who appeared to me about as much out of 
place in a scientific meeting as an elephant in a ladies drawing-room. 
The same character was introduced at the meeting of the British Asso 
ciation, in Edinburgh, where the whole proceedings were stopped till 
he and his train could be escorted by an epauletted official to the 
platform, where he sat five or ten minutes and then stopped the 
proceedings till he could pass out. 

At the Royal Society we were shown a lock of Sir Isaac Newton s 
hair, which was gray, and also the little telescope which he constructed, 
and which was about a foot long and two or three inches in diameter. 


The two men in Europe whom I felt most anxious to see, 
were Professor Buckland, Dean of Westminster, and Dr. J. 
Pye Smith, who had been thirty or forty years at the head 
of the dissenters theological college, at Homerton. Dr. Buck- 
land I found to be in an insane hospital, and Dr. Smith just 

DR. J. PYE SMITH. 349 

about to resign his place at Homerton, in order to bring that 
institution with Coward and High Colleges into one, which 
has been done, under the name of New College. Dr. Smith 
invited me to be present at the last anniversary at Ilomerton, 
when he resigned his place, and where were assembled a 
goodly number of the Independent ministers and laymen of 
London. I was gladly there, although it was painful to see 
my distinguished friend so feeble ; yet it was gratifying to see 
in his prayers and remarks so much of the spirit of heaven. 
I had formed a high opinion of him in this respect, from his 
correspondence, and I had an opportunity to state to the com 
pany, when they called on me for remarks, my views of Dr. 
Smith, without the usual embarrassment of speaking in a 
man s presence ; for he was so deaf that he could not hear a 
word. He had placed me on his right hand at the table, and 
introduced me in the most flattering manner. I stated to the 
audience what it was that interested me so deeply in Dr. 
Smith. I had preceded him in discussing the connection 
between geology and religion, and in his subsequent able 
work on that subject he had quoted largely from mine, and 
with unqualified commendation. Then he sent me a copy of 
his work, with a letter beginning thus : 

" My Dear Sir, Meditating, at some time, to do myself the honor 
of addressing a letter to you expressive of esteem and gratitude, I 
begin rather bluntly, but from the fear of forgetting, I will put 

"1. The writer whom you mention (Am. Bib. Repos. No. 25,) 
is not Bishop Gilbert Burnct, but a very different person, Dr. 
Thomas Burnct, of the Charter House. 

" 2. In your excellent Report, Geology of Massachusetts, second 
edition, p. 395, you apparently confound Dr. James Hutton, the 
Scottish geologist, with Dr. Charles Hutton, the mathematician, a 
native of Northumberland, &c.* 

Now, said I to myself, how few, even among Christian men, 
can be found who would not have reversed this process, and 
first have pointed out in his work these mistakes made by a, 


stranger, and then, perhaps, have informed me. It certainly 
indicates not only high Christian attainment, thus to forego 
an opportunity to show his superior knowledge, but a most 
delicate sense of propriety, and I want to grasp the hand of 
such a man ; and I now have the opportunity to state to his 
friends this noble trait in his character, and to say that I find 
him in all respects such a Christian and such a gentleman as 
I had anticipated. 

I might have stated, though I did not, that I had some 
apology for my mistake as to Bishop Burnet, in the fact that 
we have in Amherst College Library a copy of Burnet s 
Theory of the Earth, published a few years ago in London, 
whose title page contains the name of Bishop Burnet as the 
author, and I followed this as good authority. 

I went to Hoddsdon, about twenty miles north of London, 
chiefly to see a training school there which is somewhat 
devoted to agriculture. But finding that place to be the resi 
dence of Rev. Mr. Ellis and wife, former missionaries to Tahiti, 
and now to Madagascar, I called upon them chiefly with a 
view to learn something of her female school and her notions 
of education. They treated us with great kindness, and Mrs. 
Ellis took us to Rawdon House, where her school is kept, and 
which is a large and elegant mansion with groves and ponds 
around it, I presume the former private residence of some 
wealthy gentleman. Of course expenses are high, but Mrs. 
Ellis tries to teach her pupils domestic work, and she seems to 
have correct notions on this subject, but thinks it necessary in 
England to begin with an establishment more expensive than 
would be desirable, otherwise the school would be deserted 
by the respectable classes. Caste, in England, exercises a 
controlling power, and cannot, as in this country, be neglected. 


I had seen the principal sights in London and was about 
starting for the continent when I received from the govern- 


merit of Massachusetts an appointment as Agricultural Com 
missioner, with the request that I would, as far as practi 
cable, visit the agricultural schools of Europe. This changed 
my plan of travel somewhat, as I concluded to commence my 
explorations in Great Britain. But I was embarrassed, 
because I knew neither the location nor character of these 
schools, nor where to look for the information. Sir Charles 
Lyell, however, put me upon a track that afforded me light. 
He introduced me to Mr. Pusey, a distinguished agricul 
turist from Berkshire, brother of the Professor Pusey so Avell 
known in the theological world. He was a member of Parlia 
ment, and was then residing in London. He invited me to 
dinner, and there I met with Hon. William Monsell, member 
of Parliament from Limerick, in Ireland, who could inform 
me as to the schools in that country, and with Chevalier 
Bunsen, Prussian Minister at the Court of St. James, who 
knew about the German schools. Mr. Pusey could give an 
account of the agricultural schools in England, though I found 
he had not much confidence in their utility. Mr. Monsell 
could tell me of the Irish schools and Chevalier Bunsen knew 
where they might be found in Germany. I took dinner with 
Mr. Pusey Saturday evening, and Mr. Monsell invited me to 
breakfast on Monday morning, when he gave me a letter to 
the Right Honorable Alexander Macdonald, of Dublin, the 
superintendent of the whole system of schools in Ireland, and 
to some other leading scientific gentlemen, so that I had free 
access to all the facilities I could desire. 

On my return, I made a Report to the government upon 
the agricultural schools of Europe, which they published in 
a pamphlet of one hundred and five pages. I then gave a 
list of three hundred and fifty-two schools, with a detailed 
description of several, especially such as I visited. I found 
them of various grades, the three most important of which 
correspond in rank to colleges, academies, and primary schools. 
But I must refer to my Report for details, for want of room 


to give them here, except the following list of their number in 
different countries : 

In England, . . . 5 I In Mecklenburg Schwerin, . 1 

Ireland, . . . .63 
Scotland,. ... 2 
France, . , . .75 
Italy, . . . . 2 
Belgium, .... 9 
Prussia, . . . .32 

Schleswig Holstein, . 4 
Anhault, .... 2 
Hesse, .... 2 
Weimar, .... 1 
Nassau, . . . .1 
the Electorate of Hesse, . 1 

Austria, . , . . 33 ! the Grand Duchy of Ba- 

"Wurtemberg, ... 7 
Bavaria, . . . .35 
Saxony, .... 5 
Brunswick, ... 2 

den, . 1 

Saxe Meiningen, . . 1 
Russia, . . . . G8 

I spent the Sabbath in Cirencester, in England, where is an 
agricultural college, and had a little opportunity to learn 
something about ecclesiastical matters. I became acquainted 
with the very worthy pastor of the Baptist Church, and could 
see somewhat against what difficulties the dissenters have to 
contend. The congregation was evidently composed mainly 
of those quite poor, and I should judge conscientious too. 
For the overshadowing Episcopal Church in the place has 
$10,000 for annual distribution among the poor, but it would 
be withheld just as soon as a poor man should manifest any 
sympathy for dissenting views. How very few, with depend 
ent families perhaps, would relinquish this charity and accept 
the poverty and odium of attaching themselves to a Baptist or 
Independent Church ! One fact will give an idea of the pov 
erty of such denominations. The Baptist brother invited us 
to partake of the communion with his church, which we gladly 
accepted. The wine was distributed on a common japanned 
server in a single junk bottle with two tumblers. 

It is well known that the question of caste in most Euro 
pean countries is the grand obstacle in the way of educational 
establishments, that embrace all classes, as do ours of every 
grade in this country. Several teachers in England and 


France confessed to me that their efforts to overcome the 
difficulty had been unavailing. The truth is, with few excep 
tions, that the lower classes are not allowed to learn in the 
schools what they please, and go as far as they can ; but only 
such subjects as the higher classes consider appropriate to 
qualify them for the humble sphere they are expected to 

I met with an incident in Scotland which it may not be 
improper to name, and which shows that even in that enlight 
ened country this feeling about educating the lower classes 
exists, and it shows, too, that it is not always the strongest 
among the nominally aristocratic. Being at a soiree at the 
house of the venerable Professor Jameson, his sister, who did 
the honors of the occasion, her brother being a bachelor, says 

to me, Countess wishes an introduction to you. As 

soon as I saw her, I thought to myself what can this young 
and accomplished Countess want of me, an awkward, unpol 
ished republican. I found there was nothing special, only 
that she and her husband sympathized with American institu 
tions, and he (whom she subsequently introduced) had been 
there more than once. Soon after, Miss Jameson says, Mrs. 
, the wife of one of our barristers, desires an introduc 
tion. I found in her a very intellectual and accomplished 
lady. As she inquired about my journeyings, I said that I 
felt more at home in Scotland than any where I had been, 
because so many things here corresponded to those in New 
England. Even your geology has a close resemblance to 
ours ; and then your systems of religion and education corre 
spond essentially to ours. You here extend the benefits of 
education to all classes, as we do. " I know we do," said she, 
" but I do not like it : it makes our servants discontented with 
their condition, and they would be much better without so 
much knowledge." I was rather surprised, but argued the 
point somewhat, and became convinced by my acquaintance 
with the two ladies, that aristocratic notions are not always 
the staunchest in connection with aristocratic titles. 


At Bonn, on the Rhine, where is an agricultural school, 
Professor Reisin offered to go to Poppclsdoif, where it is 
situated, and interpret for me. After spending an hour or two 
in asking as many questions as I wished, we returned, and 
though I had taken up nearly half a day of his time, I could 
not persuade him to accept the slightest compensation. 

I experienced a similar kindness from Dr. Guido Sandber- 
ger, at Wiesbaden, the well known geologist and Professor in 
the Gymnasium. He went with me on foot to the estate of 
the Duke of Nassau, where ah agricultural school is situated, 
and aided me in obtaining all the information I needed. 

On this walk I noticed a custom that struck me pleasantly. 
As we passed the common laborers along the way, the Pro 
fessor would take his hat entirely from his head and offer 
the most cordial greeting. The effect seemed to me to be 
very cheering upon the laborers, and I cannot doubt but it 
contributes much to cultivate and promote that kindness of 
manner and that good natured affability that constitute such 
a charm in German society, and sometimes, I am sorry to add, 
forms the sweet pill in which fatal religious error is received. 
But I do wish that Americans had more not merely of the 
external marks of kindness for their fellows, especially for 
strangers, of the Germans, but of their readiness to submit to 
inconvenience and sacrifice for the sake of helping others. I 
did not see in Germany any thing of that selfishness and self- 
appropriating spirit which is so disgustingly prominent on our 
great thoroughfares in this country. I have mentioned two 
examples of a generous readiness to help ; let me name a third 
which I fear would not often find its counterpart in this country. 
I sallied forth one day into the crooked streets of the city of 
Frankfort to see if I could find my banker, without the power 
of using the German language. I wrote the banker s name 
upon a card, and meeting a well-dressed gentleman, I la-Id 
the card before him and made a motion with the other 
hand, which made him understand that I wanted to find 
the banker s residence. He turned directly about and made 


a motion for me to follow. We went on at least a hundred, 
rods, and coming against the banker s office, he pointed to 
it and with a bow left me. 

I met with similar kindness in some other European coun 
tries, different from any experience of mine in this country. 
In France, from the great politeness shown to one often, we 
should expect much. But I confess that I too often found, 
when the moment came in which help was needed, your polite 
friend was missing. It might be different when one was 
regularly introduced and was known, but I am speaking now 
of cases where I was a perfect stranger. In Ireland I found 
very much of generous readiness to help, and I must say that 
I found what I regard as more perfect examples of true gentle 
men and ladies among the higher classes in that country than 
any other. On the public conveyances, even, when all exter 
nal circumstances were most uncomfortable, the constant ebul 
lition of Irish wit and proffer of accommodation cannot but 
keep one good-natured. I had on one occasion been waiting 
with Mrs. H. at a hotel, in the north of Ireland, for the stage, 
which would just reach a railroad station in season for the 
cars. I noticed a well-dressed gentlemen also waiting for the 
same purpose. But when the stage came, there was only one 
vacant seat ; yet this gentleman said to me that if I could in 
any way contrive to get along with my wife, he would cheer 
fully resign all his right to the seat. How very likely, in this 
country, a man would be to consider such a case as a God 
send for his benefit ! 

As a sample of Irish energy and good roads and fleet horses, 
I will mention that on this occasion I found myself nineteen 
miles from the railroad station and rather less than two hours 
short of the time when the cars would start for Belfast, whence 
I had hoped that evening to take the steamer for Glasgow. I 
said to the landlord, if I give you an extra fee, is it in your 
power to get myself and wife to the station in time ? He 
dared not promise, but offered to try. In five minutes we 
were mounted on an Irish car, in which you sit facing out- 


wards, with your feet over the wheels, and your luggage occu 
pies the body of the vehicle, and behind a smart black pony 
we were spinning away over a macadamized road at a rapid 
rate. We soon passed the stage, and reached the station 
several minutes before the end of the two hours, and the horse 
was uninjured. 

In Glasgow I was trying to find the residence of a gentle 
man, and meeting a man with one or two joiner s tools in his 
hand, 1 made inquiries. He turned around and said he would 
guide me, nor stopped till he had gone out of his way, I should 
think, a quarter of a mile. 

If such generous attention to inquiring strangers is given in 
our cis-atlantic cities, I can only say it has never fallen under 
my cognizance. 


I spent a week very delightfully in the magnificent city of 
Edinburgh, during the sessions of this association. 

If I had room I would give the details of this meeting, as I 
did in the "New York Observer" of July 31st and August 
7th, 1850. But with the exception of one or two items, I 
must omit all. 

One object I should have in view in such description would 
be to suggest to any of my countrymen who may visit Europe, 
and have any scientific tastes, to avail themselves of the privi 
lege open to all respectable gentlemen and ladies of attending 
this association, which meets annually in different cities during 
the summer. There, without any formal introduction by 
letter, which is usually a heavy infliction upon distinguished 
men, you can become personally acquainted with as many as 
you choose of the most distinguished personages in the learned 
world. Such men at home are fully occupied, but here they 
expect to be lionized. 

I remember this occasion and the many acquaintances I 
there formed, with deep interest. I there for the first time 


met Hugh Miller, and he was kind enough to show me his rich 
collection of fossil fishes the same, and perhaps in the same 
room, in which not long afterwards he took his own life. 


The catalogue published on "Wednesday, July 31st, and 
three supplements afterwards, give the list of members, either 
for life, or for a year, or for the present meeting : 

Whole number, . . . . . .1,225 
Of whom there were ladies, . . . . 274 
To give an idea of the classes of persons belonging to this 
body, I have taken the following facts from the catalogues : 

Of the nobility, of different grades, * * . 19 

Members of the Royal Society, either of 

London or Edinburgh, . . . .95 

With the title of LL. D., . . . - . 18 

With that of D. D., . . . . ... 17 

Professors in h terary institutions, . . 61 

Clergymen, . . . . . 97 

Medical gentlemen, . . . . . 104 

Foreigners, .... . . . 25 

From the United States, . . . ... 10 

You will at once perceive from these details, what a fine 
opportunity one has, by attending such a meeting, to see and 
hear distinguished men, whose writings have excited high 
respect. I think this perhaps the highest gratification afforded 
by such a meeting. 

If there were room I would give some samples of the high 
moral tone of Dr. Brewster s opening address. Equally 
decided were many of the subsequent speeches. In moving 
a vote of thanks to Dr. Mantell, for his lecture on the Great 
Birds of New Zealand, Dr. Robinson said that it was a 
sermon, and that it not only spoke to us of God, but of the 


Redeemer ; alluding, I suppose, to the fact that the discovery 
of the Dinornis, (said to be the greatest discovery in zoology 
made during the present century,) was the result of missionary 
operations. Dr. Mantell responded very happily to these 
allusions, and placed moral truth immeasurably above science. 
I do not believe that any skeptical allusion would have been 
tolerated for a moment. Indeed, the high-toned moral senti 
ments which were uttered, received a hearty response from 
the audience, and I regard this feature of the Association as its 
highest glory. I could have wished that those who regard 
modern science as almost synonymous with skepticism had 
been present to see how the most eminent savans of Great 
Britain treated that subject. And here it occurs to me to 
refer to the fact, that nearly one hundred clergymen were 
present at the meetings. Indeed, it seemed to me that the 
most talented and learned members, for the most part, were 
of that profession. This is the true way to give a high moral 
character to the meetings. Will not American clergymen 
take a hint from these facts in relation to the similar Associa 
tion on that side of the Atlantic, which, like a young giant, is 
rising so rapidly in size and strength ? It ought to have more 
clerical members. They will be welcomed by the scientific 
laymen who compose that body; and their presence and 
cooperation will do much to remove those jealousies and 
alienations which are apt to grow up between men of different 
pursuits, who rarely come into contact upon common ground. 
Let our clergymen stand aloof from that Association, and 
neglect to become well acquainted with the subjects there 
discussed, and they will be very likely to imagine scientific 
men to be the secret enemies of religion, and very probably 
make some of them so. But a different course will show 
them how exaggerated are their apprehensions, and that a 
large, proportion of our men of science respect, if they do not 
profess, religion. And I might make similar remarks to pious 
and intelligent laymen of our country. Many such, in this 
country, not familiar with the details of science, are present 


at these meetings, to encourage those who are making impor 
tant scientific investigations ; and the effect is very happy. 


We were obliged to hurry from the British Association in 
order to reach the continent in season for the Peace Congress 
in Frankfort, which was another occasion of interest, and 
although I had never formally joined any peace society at 
home, I sympathized with the object aimed at by such associ 
ations, and was requested to act as delegate from the Massa 
chusetts Society. I thought it a rather bold stroke of policy 
to hold this congress so far in the interior of Germany, even 
where Austrian bayonets bore rule, and it seemed to me that 
had the authorities been fully aware of our object and of the 
doctrines that would be broached, a veto would have been put 
upon our proceedings. 

We spent the Sabbath in Bonn, and the next day being 
very beautiful, and the company on board the steamer most 
agreeable, we had a most delightful sail through the well 
known romantic scenery of the Rhine, which, however, Mr. 
Cobden told me he thought inferior to that of the Hudson, 
except in historical monuments. 

This was about the time when Professor Webster, of Cam 
bridge, should have been executed for the murder of Dr. 
Park man, and everywhere I found a deep solicitude as to the 
result. The intelligent gentlemen on board the steamer were 
full of inquiries on the subject, and while they declared that his 
escape would have a most disastrous effect in Europe, they 
expressed much fear lest one so high in place as Webster 
would slip the halter, and they hardly believed there was 
virtue enough in Massachusetts to compel his execution. I 
told them that I knew Webster well, and also knew something 
of Massachusetts courts and public opinion, and that just as 
surely as a steamer should arrive that left Boston after the 
first of August, they would have news of Webster s execution. 
In a very few days my words were confirmed. 


Several members of the congress, and among them Mr. 
Cobden and Mr. Smith, members of the English Parliament, 
came up the Rhine with us, and we found them very agreeable 
fellow travellers. They seemed conscious that the movement 
is regarded by most of the higher classes as quixotic, and 
scarcely raised above ridicule ; yet it did not trouble them. 
When it was mentioned that this and that respectable man 
was expected to be present, Mr. Cobden remarked that "when 
we were going to be laughed at, it was pleasant to be in good 

Several of the Professors at Bonn University were also on 
board, as well as the Chevalier Bunsen, the Prussian Minister 
in London, so well known on both sides of the Atlantic for his 
literary labors, and a fine example of a genuine gentleman. 
They all spoke respectfully of the object of the congress, but 
regarded it as quite impracticable in the present state of public 
opinion. A very large deputation from England and Scotland 
are expected to arrive to-night, and Mr. Burritt and others 
have gone down the river to-day to receive them. 

I had written out a somewhat full account of this meeting, 
and think it would interest my readers, but like the account 
of the British Scientific Association, it must be omitted for 
want of room. 

If I were to allow myself, without restraint, to write about 
the scenery and geology of Switzerland, I hardly know when 
I should stop ; for this, of all Europe, was my favorite field. 
In geology, my almost constant soliloquy was, Eureka! 
Eureka! and as to scenery, I would often say, "in other 
parts of Europe I have found little which has not its paral 
lel in North America; but in Switzerland I knock under, 
and give myself up to gazing and admiring. But I must 
limit myself here to a single scene to a view I got from 
Rigi Culm which I fancy few are so fortunate as to wit 
ness. It is well known that many tourists spend the good 


part of a day in reaching this summit, where they spend 
the night in the hope of seeing the sun rise and its rosy 
light reflected from the overland glaciers. But, alas, how 
many find the mountain, 6,000 feet high, enveloped in clouds, 
and they must spend another half day in getting down to 
Zug or Lucerne, below, with a feeling of great disappoint 
ment. I should think that on the 29th of August, 1850, 
not less than two hundred of us, of all nations and languages, 
stood upon the Culm before sunrise, enveloped in as dense a 
cloud as I ever saw, and with the almost certain prospect of 
utterly failing in our object. But in ten minutes that cloud 
settled down so as to bring the summit, where we stood, above 
it, and also, at a few miles distant, the Bernese glaciers, ready 
to throw back their rosy light as soon as the sun struck them. 
And in a few minutes it did strike them from a cloudless sky, 
and we were in the midst of the most unearthly scene that I 
ever witnessed, as we stood above, the top of the cloud that 
filled all the valleys of Switzerland, and I felt an almost irre 
sistible desire to launch forth on its fleecy undulations, so like 
celestial scenery did it seem. But soon the vapor began to 
give way here and there, and open vistas into the regions 
below. Here and there a lake, a romantic mountain, a city, 
or some spot of deep historic interest (Zug and Lucerne, the 
Rossberg, TelPs Chapel, &c.) would be disclosed, and alter 
nately concealed, until at length almost all Switzerland lay 
beneath your feet. It was enough. I never had witnessed 
such a scene before and never expect to witness another. 
That on Snowdon was similar, but far inferior. 

And here I would record with gratitude, that though I have 
visited many mountains on both sides of the Atlantic, I never 
yet failed to get a good view from their summit. In those 
cases where the weather seemed most unfavorable at first, it 
served only to heighten the^ ultimate effect. Certainly I have 
been peculiarly favored in this respect. 

I would gladly go into the details of our experience in the 
region of Mont Blanc, where Alpine scenery culminates. 


Were I writing only for geologists, I certainly should tell 
them how deeply interested I was in the phenomena of gla 
ciers, and the marks of their former wide extension, both 
horizontally and vertically, and also of the vast plications of 
the solid strata. But I must not become prolix on such 
themes. Nor shall I further prolong my account of trans 
atlantic scenes. 


I cannot close without adverting to the kind Providence 
that carried me and my companion safely through all our 
wanderings, and made them instrumental of a gradual invigo- 
ration of health that continued for many years. But I feel 
constrained also, from a sense of obligation to God and man, 
and I cannot feel it to be improper to mention what has 
seemed to be a special Providence in regard to pecuniary 
means. It was certainly as unexpected as a miracle, though 
not a miracle. 

When deliberating about a foreign tour, with Mrs. Hitch 
cock to accompany me, (and every-body said I must not go 
alone as my health was,) I felt not a little embarrassed in view 
of the large expenses that must be incurred, and I knew of 
no quarter from which I might hope for any assistance. But 
ere long John Tappan generously offered to pay our passage 
($240) across the Atlantic. On our voyage myself and wife 
became acquainted with Hon. Jonathan Phillips. Just before 
reaching Liverpool he said to Mr. Tappan, " Where is Mr. 
Hitchcock going when he lands ? " " To London, I suppose," 
was the reply. ** Would he not like to see something of the 
geology of England ? " was his farther inquiry. " Doubtless 
he would," was the reply. " Take him then," said Mr. Phillips, 
"and go where you think best, and send the bills to me." 
Accordingly, when in Liverpool, l^Ir. Tappan proposed to me 
to make an excursion into Wales, on our way to London, not, 
however, informing me of Mr. Phillips offer. I accepted 
because that is classic ground in geology. But after a few 


days spent there, I told Mr. Tappan that neither my time nor 
funds would allow me to stay much longer. He then told me 
with what commission he was charged, and advised me to 
give myself up for a time to his guidance, which I did, and 
the result was, that before we got to London, through Bristol, 
Bath, Southampton, and the Isle of Wight, I had had a chance 
to give a hasty glance at most of the rock formations of Eng 
land ; the Silurian, Devonian, Trias, Oolite, Lias, Wealden, 
Cretacous, and Tertiary, and the trip was very delightful. It 
extended to about five hundred miles, and my expenses were 
$166, which Mr. Phillips paid. 

Another God-send was my commission to examine the agri 
cultural schools. I succeeded in making a report that met the 
approbation of the government, and they voted me a thousand 
dollars for my expenses. On reaching home Hon. Samuel 
Williston presented me with one hundred dollars. I had thus 
received $1,506 which I had not the slightest reason to expect 
when I started, and it did not fall so much as $200 short of 
the whole expenses of myself and wife during our one hun 
dred and fifty-eight days of absence. The irreligious man will 
say this was good luck ; what name the technical theologian 
may give to it I know not ; but I recognize it as the special 
providence of a merciful God. 


Since these surveys have entered largely into my experi 
ence for more than thirty years, and I have prosecuted them 
without relinquishing my place in the College, a brief history 
of my connection with them may seem desirable. 

I was conversant with the earliest efforts in this country to 
get up geological survey s. The appointment of Amos Eaton 
to survey the route of the Erie Canal, by Hon. Stephen Van 
Rensselaer, was, I believe, the earliest example. He made 
his first Report in 1824. In 1834, another edition was pub 
lished, to which Mr. Eaton added a section by myself, although 


it was never intended for publication, but merely to aid him 
by some imperfect notes. 

North Carolina was the first State in our country that 
ordered a survey, and the Reports by Professor Denison 
Olmsted were published in a pamphlet form in 1824 and 
1825. In a review of this Report in the American Journal 
of Science, I tried to induce legislators in other States to 
follow this example, but in vain. Years passed and the 
subject seemed to have been forgotten. 

In 1830, being upon a journey to the coal regions of Penn 
sylvania, and stopping in Hartford, I saw by the papers that 
Governor Lincoln had recommended to the legislature of 
Massachusetts a trigonometrical survey of the State. I at 
once addressed him, urging the importance of connecting with 
it a geological survey. On my return I found the suggestion 
adopted, and a commission soon reached me as surveyor. I 
accepted the place on condition that I might so husband my 
time as to allow me still to perform my duties in College. I 
made my first Report in 1832, in a pamphlet of seventy 
pages, on the Economical Geology of the State, with a geo 
logical map. In 1833, I made a full Report on the whole 
subject, in a volume of seven hundred and two pages, with an 
atlas of plates and a geological map ; of which a second edition 
was ordered to be printed in 1834. 

I was aware that these reports were very imperfect, and 
that several years more should be devoted to exploration. 
But as this was the first attempt in any of the Northern 
States to carry through a geological survey, and as I knew 
that legislators are always anxious to have their servants 
prosecute and carry through their plans with energy and 
dispatch, I thought it best to present them with the prelimi 
naries of a survey, rather than one complete, lest the work 
should be stopped and a prejudice excited against all future 
surveys. In this I succeeded , for the other States have been 
following the lead of Massachusetts ever since, until nearly all 
of them have instituted surveys, and some of them with mag- 


nificent results. The government of New York consulted me 
in the plan of their survey and I recommended essentially 
that which was adopted, viz., to form independent districts, 
under distinct heads, rather than to place one geologist at 
the head of the whole. I was requested to take charge of 
one of these districts, and finally consented, and with Pro 
fessor Adams as assistant, commenced the work in Duchess 
County. But reflection and a poor state of health led me 
to resign my post. I confess, also, that I had some hope 
that Massachusetts might yet call me again into the field, 
to review and carry forward the survey there, and in this I 
was not disappointed. Governor Marcy s commission for the 
New York survey bore date June 13th, 1836. As soon as 
released from that State, I addressed a letter to Governor 
Everett, who was then in the chair, setting forth the impor 
tance of a further prosecution of at least some parts of the 
survey. His recommendation carried the measure with the 
legislature, and on the 25th of May, 1837, I received a new 
commission. A liberal interpretation of it enabled me to 
extend my attention to every part of the survey, and for three 
or four years I prosecuted the work of reexamination with 
greater vigor than formerly. In 1838, 1 brought out a Report 
on the Economical Geology, of one hundred and thirty-nine 
pages, and in 1841, a Final Report, in two quarto volumes, 
of three hundred and five hundred and forty-four pages, with 
fifty-six plates and two hundred and eighty-two wood cuts. 
In the first survey I was obliged to report on the Zoology and 
Botany, as well as the Geology, but in the re-survey, the 
former were committed to several able naturalists, who made 
separate and valuable reports. 

In the year 1851 or 1852 I made another suggestion to the 
government of the State. I had been for several years study 
ing surface geology, and having been somewhat aided by the 
Smithsonian Institution, I made a report to them which they 
subsequently published. I found this kind of research, more 
over, very favorable to health, as it did not demand the use 


of the hammer, but only of the barometer and levelling instru 
ments. I therefore proposed to the government that if they 
would bear my necessary expenses in a very simple way of 
travelling, I would explore the surface geology of the State 
without charge. The legislature accepted my offer, and voted 
in their session of 1852 to appropriate $500 to this object. I 
have not expended much more than half this sum up to the 
present time, yet I have made two reports which have been 
published. But they have not much connection with surface 
geology. For I obtained permission from the governor and 
council to use some of the money in researches somewhat 
different. The first report was a pamphlet of forty-four pages, 
four plates, and numerous wood cuts "illustrating certain 
points in the geology of Massachusetts." The first point was 
the coal field of Bristol County ; the second on the geological 
age and position of the brown hematite iron ore of Berkshire 
County, and the third on the marks of ancient glaciers in 

My second report was on the ichnology of New England, 
the result of more than twenty years of study into an intensely 
interesting but most difficult subject. I distinctly informed the 
government that the matter was purely one of science rather 
than of economical benefit, that I made no charge for my 
report or labors, and if they chose to publish it I should be 
glad. They voted to do so even without reading my manu 
script, at an expense of some $4,000 or $5,000. Is there 
another State in the Union where mere science would thus be 
patronized? My report was published in 1858, in a quarto 
of two hundred and twenty pages, with sixty plates, a hundred 
copies of which the legislature generously voted to present to 
me. Its style of execution was such as to elicit commendation 
from European reviewers and naturalists. 

I had now reached that period in life, and was borne down 
by so many severe infirmities, that all desire to have any thing 
to do with another State survey was gone. But in 1856 I 
was strongly urged to take hold as principal of the survey of 


Vermont. Its history had been a melancholy one. It was 
started twelve years before; but three principals had been 
successively smitten down by death, and I could not but 
confess to a sort of superstitious fear that if I took the post I 
should be the fourth before the completion of such a work. I 
found, however, that I should be allowed to bring in my two 
sons as assistants, and I accepted. My assistants executed 
most of the field work, and my youngest son also most of the 
maps and sections of the report, and though obliged to close 
the work when only half done, because the legislature starved 
us out, we did bring out a report of nearly a thousand quarto 
pages, in two volumes, with thirty-eight plates and two hun 
dred and eighty-nine wood cuts, and containing a vast amount 
of facts, so that in a revie% of the work in the "American Jour 
nal of Science" for May, 1862, by Mr. Billings, paleontologist 
of the Canada survey, it is said : " Upon the whole, we look 
upon this Report as one of the best that has been published 
on this continent." I did not expect such a compliment from 
so competent a judge ; yet for all this work of four or 
live years, I never received as much as six hundred dollars 
besides my expenses. 

It will be seen that, whether wisely or not, geological 
surveys have occupied no inconsiderable portion of the active 
period of my life. Though interesting, they have been labo 
rious, both to body and mind, and brought upon me heavy 
responsibility. I cannot doubt that they have done good to 
the public, by awakening a spirit of inquiry, discouraging 
unreasonable explorations and expectations, opening some new 
channels of enterprise, and bringing to light not a few new 
scientific facts. The survey in Massachusetts doubtless led the 
way for the many others that followed, not merely chrono 
logically, but by the force of example. Upon the whole, the 
influence upon my health has been salutary, yet this remark 
should be confined to the field work ; for the preparation of 
the reports has certainly been a weariness to the flesh. And 
after I had got out my first general report on Massachusetts, 


I suffered for months an almost total prostration of the nervous 
system, which quiet only could cure ; and subsequent reports 
have always severely taxed my powers of endurance. But 
upon the whole, life has probably been lengthened by so much 
out-door, exhilarating exercise. 


After I had returned from Europe I continued for some 
years to act as a member of the Board of Agriculture, and 
at length, without any encouragement from me, they appointed 
me permanent Secretary, and urged my acceptance strongly. 
Pecuniarily, I should receive two or three times my salary at 
Amherst, but, though I always felt an interest in the scientific 
relations of that subject, and felt it to be important to the 
welfare of society, the great objects and pursuits of my life 
had been in other fields, and I did not wish to change now, 
especially as agriculture has no necessary bearing upon 
religion. I felt that Amherst was my field for what remain 
ing services I could render, and I declined the appointment. 
It would have been a great mistake, had I been tempted by a 
high salary or a prospective residence in Boston, to accept. 




These are one and the same Association, only with dif 
ferent degrees of expansion, and my relations to it from the 
very beginning seem to require me to dwell a little upon its 

Those of us who had been for years engaged in prosecuting 
the State geological surveys, in widely separated districts, had 
long felt the need of meeting to compare notes, and try to 
reduce American geology to some uniform system. After 
some preliminary correspondence, the gentlemen engaged in 
the New York survey issued an invitation to their confreres 


of the State surveys to meet them in Philadelphia, April 2d, 
1840. The following gentlemen responded to the call. I 
quote here from the published proceedings : 

" Edward Hitchcock, Amherst, Massachusetts ; Lewis C. 
Beck, New Brunswick, New Jersey ; Henry D. Rogers, Phil 
adelphia ; Lardner Vanuxem, Bristol, Pennsylvania ; William 
W. Mather, Brooklyn, Connecticut ; "Walter R. Johnson and 
Timothy A. Conrad, Philadelphia; Ebenezer Emmons and 
James Hall, Albany, New York ; Charles B. Trego, James C. 
Booth, M. H. Boye, R. E. Rogers and Alexander McKinley, 
Philadelphia ; C. B. Hayden, Smithfield, Virginia ; Richard 
C. Taylor, Philadelphia ; Douglass Houghton and Bela 
Hubbard, Michigan." 

" Prof. Hitchcock was appointed Chairman, and Prof. L. C. 
Beck, Secretary." 

It was then unanimously resolved to organize an Associa 

We spent several days together agreeably and profitably, 
not in the formal presentation of many papers, but in the 
discussion of various points in geology, as they had presented 
themselves in our various fields. It will be seen, however, 
that the names of some are in the above list who were never 
engaged in the State surveys. We resolved to try to bring in 
more of such. We added the word "Naturalists" to our 
name, and appointed Prof. B. Silliman, although never con 
nected with a State survey, Chairman of the next meeting, and 
we meant it to be understood that we should be happy to have 
any scientific man join us at the next meeting, which we ap 
pointed the following year in Philadelphia. We began in fact 
to cherish the hope that the Association might gradually and 
quietly expand so as to embrace all the sciences, and so 
become an American association for the advancement of 
science, and so our proceedings were modelled after the great 
European associations of this kind. We knew that not long 
before the American Academy of Arts and Sciences at Bos- 


ton had requested the American Philosophical Society of 
Philadelphia, because that was the oldest society of the kind 
in the land, to take the responsibility of appointing such a 
meeting. But they refused, lest it should prove a failure. 
It ill became us, therefore, to announce any such intention, 
but our desire and ambition were to accomplish the object 
without saying much about it, and the result shows that we 
succeeded. Our numbers and influence continued to increase 
at each successive meeting. The third one was held at 
Boston, and soon the cities vied with one another in giving us 
invitations to hold our meetings in them, and in 1848 w r e for 
mally adopted the name of the American Association for the 
Advancement of Science. This has continued to expand and 
flourish, though temporarily checked by the war that is now 
upon us. 

It may not be of much consequence who first threw out the sugges 
tion that led to the formation of this Association, but as a matter 
of history the question has some interest. I had never thought of 
claiming the honor for myself. But my friend, Prof. "W. "NV. Mather, 
undertook to do it for me, because he thought that honor had been 
unjustly assigned to another. A few extracts from his letters to me 
as they appeared in the Tenth Annual Report of the Regents of the 
University of New York, will show the ground he takes. 

" Prof. Hitchcock, Dear Sir : I received, a few days since, the Pro 
ceedings of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, 
first meeting, held in Philadelphia, Sept. 1848; and in it, page 91, I 
found a letter from Prof. Hall, and observed with some surprise 
the latter part of the sentence of the second paragraph, (relating to 
Prof. Vanuxem,) viz.: and to whom is due, above all others, the 
honor of being the first man to propose such an organization. Now 
I do not wish to detract at all from the merit due to Prof. Vanuxem ; 
and perhaps Prof. Hall made the representation from memory only, 
or from hearsay, on the spur of the occasion ; but that which belongs 
to the history of the Association of American Geologists ought, if 
stated where it will be referred to, to be stated accurately. You know 
that he was not the first to propose such an organization in 1838. 

"In 1837, I received a letter from you on this subject; but it is 
lost, or I do not find it on my file of letters. 


" On the 12th of October, 1838, you wrote me at Albany, and the 
letter was forwarded and reached me at Newburgh, in which you say : 
And I had also hoped that ere this a meeting of American Geologists 
would be brought about in New York or Philadelphia ; but I feel that 
I am to be disappointed in this also. 

" On the 26th of October, 1838, the day I received your letter at 
Newburgh, I answered it, and said : It gives me much pleasure to 
see you express a wish to compare notes with others in relation to 
geological observations. I think it is much to be regretted that there 
is not greater harmony of feeling, unity of action, and interchange of 
opinions and observations among our geologists. As I had to go west 
before the meeting of the Geological Board of New York, and which you 
had been invited by me and perhaps others to attend, I wrote to the 
Board some suggestions that seemed to me important, as follows :" 
(Then follows the letter. Prof. Mather closes his letter to me, with 
the following :) 

" You, so far as I know, first suggested the matter of such an asso 
ciation. I laid the matter before the Board of Geologists of New- York, 
specifying some of the advantages that might be expected to result ; 
and Prof. Vanuxem probably made the motion before the Board in 
regard to it, which may have been all that Prof. Hall knew about it. 

We can each of us well dispense with the honor that might be 
awarded for originating the matter in one case, and putting in train 
for execution in the other : still, where the origin of an important 
society and association of scientific men for the advancement of 
science is recorded in its memoirs as historical fact, it ought to be 
stated correctly" 

It is true, as suggested by Prof. Mather above, that for years before 
1840, I had been in the habit, in my correspondence with scientific 
men, of suggesting how desirable it was to have an annual meeting of 
scientific men in this country as in Europe. Indeed, it became with me 
a sort of hobby. But I did not know but that others had done the 
same, and did not therefore lay claim to the credit of being the origi 
nator of the meeting that was ultimately got up, nor am I very anxious 
about the matter now, less so probably than would be my children 
and friends. 

I have attended nearly all the meetings of the Association for more 
than twenty years, and have always been treated personally with much 
kindness, nor have I taken much interest in several minor issues that 
have produced considerable discussion and alienation of feeling among 
members. But I do feel constrained to leave on record my views as 
to the manner in which the original Association of Geologists and 


Naturalists has been treated by the American Association for the 
Advancement of Science. It is clear, from the statements that have 
been made, that the two are just as much connected as the roots and 
trunk of a tree, or the tributaries and main stream of a river. Yet in 
the published Proceedings of the Association for the Advancement of 
Science, the entire Association is represented as commencing in 1848, 
and the Association of Geologists and Naturalists which had held eight 
annual meetings, is ignored, except that the names of those persons 
who formed the Association of Geologists and Naturalists are printed 
in capitals, and even this slight recognition is discontinued in the last 
volume of Proceedings. A table of the meetings of the Association 
since 1848, is given with the names of the Presidents, Secretaries, and 
Treasurers, with no allusion to those of previous meetings, and the 
meetings bear date from 1848, instead of 1840. This was not probably 
done by vote of the Association ; for I do not believe it was ever 
laid before them, but by the Standing Committee, who have almost 
unlimited powers. 

Now why is this attempt to strike out of existence the first eight 
years of the Association, unless it be that the records of those eight 
years would disgrace the body which succeeded in 1848 ? The general 
course of organization and proceedings, as we have seen, has been 
essentially the same from the first as it now is, modified only to adapt 
it to increasing numbers, such, for instance, as the division of the 
meetings into a greater number of Sections. But from the very first, 
or certainly the second year, the reading of papers with subsequent 
remarks has been the chief business. The grades of officers has been 
the same essentially, viz. : a President, Secretaries, Treasurer, and 
Standing and Local Committees. We have always had more than one 
social gathering, generally at the residence of some liberal citizen of 
the cities where we met, where we had opportunity for personal 
acquaintance. The retiring President has, from the first, been expected 
to give an Address on the Progress of Science, and it was done as gen 
erally before as since 1848. The following table will show who were 
officers and who delivered addresses before that time. 







1 Philadelphia, 
2 Philadelphia, 

3 Boston, 

1840 Edward Hitchcock, . 
1841 Benjamin Silliman, . 
i S19 1 George Morton, . ) 
842 i John Locke, . . j 
H D Rogers 

1841, . . 
1842, . . 


L. C.Beek. 

U U 

C. T. Jackson. 

BSillimin Tr 

5 Washington, 

John Locke, 

B. Silliman. 

G New Haven, 

William B. Rogers . . . 

O. Hubbard. 
B. Silliman, Jr. 

7 New York, . 

C. T. Jackson, 

I. L. Smith. 

8 Boston, 

( Amos Binnev, . . . ) 
i William B. Rogers, . { 

. . . . 

T. Wyman. 

As to the publication of Proceedings, the Association in 1842 brought 
out a volume (mainly through the liberality of Hon. Nathan Appleton,) 
of five hundred and forty-four pages and twenty-one plates, containing 
the Proceedings and Transactions of the first three meetings, which, as 
to typographical execution is superior to any thing since published. 
As to the number of members, though only eighteen at the first 
meeting, at the third they had increased to seventy-seven. 

Now was it generous, was it just, thus to endeavor to cover up 
these eight years of the successful labors of this Association, and to 
convey the impression that nothing worthy the name existed prior to 
1848 as if ashamed of its parentage. For it is certainly true, however 
homely our labors, that we did succeed in accomplishing what the 
men who are supposed to stand at the head of American Science did 
not dare attempt, viz. : to establish and bring into full operation the 
American Association for the Advancement of Science. Setting aside 
my own, are the names in the above table such in the annals of Amer 
ican Science that it would be disgraceful to acknowledge them as 
pioneers in such an enterprise. So palpable is the injustice that if I 
had not felt a strong aversion to introduce a subject into the Asso 
ciation that would have awakened discussion and alienation, I certainly 
should have done it. For I do not believe that the Association, as a 
body, would ever sanction such a course. But let it pass now : I 
must do so. Yet history will place the whole transaction in its true 
light, on her impartial tablet, and full justice will then be awarded to 
the Association of American Geologists and Naturalists. 

It has ever been an object of strong desire and effort, with me, to 
conduct my controversies in such spirit and language as not only to 
preserve a conscience void of offence towards all, but in the end to 


conciliate all reasonable men and convert even my personal opponents 
into real steadfast friends. And I have succeeded in every case save 
that of the Fossil Footmarks, which I think has left lasting prejudices 
in some minds against me, and a feeling as if I had claimed what did 
not belong to me. Having argued this point fairly and fully, I have 
often felt as if I wished an impartial jury could be found to sit upon 
the question. Providence, it seems to me, has furnished such a jury 
who have given their opinion without any solicitation or suggestion on 
my part. Four of the jurors are eminent European savans whose 
geographical position removed them from all local influences and 
prejudices. One is Rev. Adam Sedgwick, Professor of Geology in the 
University of Cambridge, in England ; another is Prof. "W. Haidinger, 
Director of the Imperial Geological Survey of Austria ; a third is 
Prof. Richard Owen, the eminent English Paleontologist ; a fourth is 
Rev. John Duns, D.D., F.R. S.E., late editor of the North British 
Review ; the fifth is Prof. S. S. Haldeman, of Columbia, in Pennsyl 
vania, whose location places him also (four or five hundred miles dis 
tant) almost as completely beyond the reach of local influences and 
prejudices, and with whom I have never, to this day, exchanged one 
word on this subject ; but after the discussion had closed I received 
from him the following able and interesting letter, which carries great 
weight with it, both from the great strength of its argument and the 
eminent character of its author as a Naturalist. 

" CHICQUESALTJRGA, near Columbia, Pa., 19th Dec., 1844. 

"Dear Sir : I have read the discussion in the American Journal of 
Science, vol. 47, p. 381, between Dr. Deane and yourself, respecting 
the priority of claim to the discovery of Fossil Footmarks, and wish 
to trouble you with a few remarks upon it. 

" It appears to me that Dr. Deane is disposed to lay too much 
stress upon the mere discovery of these interesting relics, and to a 
certain extent, without reference to the scientific investigation of them ; 
although their actual present value has arisen from the deductions 
which you are able to make. 

" It is a simple matter to lay claim to an important discovery after 
it has been^demonstrated; but the merit of the demonstration itself 
rests upon a very different basis from that of such a claim. If the 
Ichnolites had been hastily announced as bird tracks, and had they 
subsequently proved to be mere uniform concretions, the writer of the 
first announcement would not probably display much anxiety if his 
early views should not be brought forward very conspicuously ; not 
withstanding the toleration with which colaborers are generally inclined 
to regard errors. 


"I have heard a Conch ologist remark, upon seeing the figure of a 
newly described shell, that he had had the species a long time, and 
thought or knew it to be undescribed; yet there was no merit in 
the supposition. In the case of Dr. Deane, his own conviction of the 
novelty of his discovery appears to have depended upon his corresDon- 
dence with yourself. I have seen a newspaper paragraph credited to 
the Canajoharie Radii, announcing the discovery of a fossil horse-foot. 
Now, is the writer of this paragraph to have any more credit for the 
announcement as it stands, than if he had asserted the object to be 
something like a horse-foot, whether it might prove to be a fossil 
Limulus, Buckland Bridgw. Treatise, pi. 45, f. 1, (vulgarly called 
horse-foot ) a true equine hoof, or the internal cast of a molluscous 
bivalve shell ? 

"It could have been no easy task at an early day, to demonstrate 
the remains of Ammonites not to be serpents, or Trilobites toads, 
or pseudomorphous mineral forms, genuine crystals. If a first unsup 
ported announcement is to bear the principal honors, modern geologists 
are working in vain ; for there is scarcely a philosophical deduction or 
demonstrated truth which cannot be found among the cosmogonic 
crudities of the last century. Dr. Franklin s discovery belongs to the 
same category ; the identity of electricity and lightning having been 
previously known as positively as impressed bird- tracks could be. 

"I do not wish to overlook the fact that Dr. Deane insists upon his 
early assertion as to the nature of the tracks in question. This, however, 
I conceive, can have no possible bearing upon the question. How 
could he, or any one else at that time Jcnoio that these impressions and 
casts were not the floats or vesicles of a genus of plants allied to the 
recent oceanic Fucus ? Had they been such, we could account for their 
regular disposition as to distance and direction. Mr. T. A. Conrad, 
whose skill in paleontology will be admitted, takes this view of the 
subject. Speaking of the fucoids he remarks that some of them have 
been of a fibrous reticulated structure, having vesicular appendages, 
often lobed and imitating on the sand-stones the forms of tracks of 
reptiles and birds which some writers have believed them to be. On 
plate 26, in Buckland s Bridgewater Treatise, the foot-shaped vesicular 
fucoids may be seen attached to the network, and no doubt they per 
formed the office of floats to support the fibrous structure to which 
they were appended. New Geological Survey, 1839, p. GO. 

"Who can wonder that an observer should adopt this rational con 
clusion, upon viewing the plate in question, and particularly figure 1, 
t, o, b, e and others, if we allow the slender reticulations to have been 
washed away ? Yet the Cheirotherium, which was concerned in making 


these prints, has been discovered, and the subsequent discovery of 
Dinornis removes the remaining vestiges of doubt. 

One or two more illustrations will suffice. In 1835, during the 
voyage of the ship Beagle, an aquatic saurian was discovered, and 
subsequently described under the name of AMBLYRHYNCHUS CRISTATUS, 
by Mr. Bell. Dr. Mitchill had however received it through Commodore 
Porter nearly twenty years previously, and made some remarks on it, 
which appeared in print, but I cannot now give the reference. He did 
not, however, venture to describe this singular animal, probably because 
he was not quite certain whether or not it had attracted the attention of 
European naturalists ; and had he communicated specimens to Mr. 
Bell, might have complained of the latter appropriating HIS discovery 
in describing the animal. 

"In Loudon s Magazine of Natural History, vol. via. p. 261, Mr. 
Hailstone says : I send a description of two crabs which I have found 
upon this coast ; and, if you can inform me whether they are undescribed 
I shall be obliged ; and on p. 264, should any of the species repre 
sented in the specimens sent prove to be known ones, I shall be glad 
to receive their names, and a reference to the book in which they are 
described. The specimens alluded to were referred by the editor to 
Mr Westwood, who made extensive notes upon them, and applied two 
new -specific names. This proceeding brought forth the following: 
. . . . Having been fortunate enough to discover and describe the ani 
mals in question, I think I am at liberty to claim the insertion of trivial 
names which seem to me more adapted to them. The editor (p. 395) 
then makes an apology for not having given Mr. Hailstone an oppor 
tunity to apply his names. Had Mr. Hailstone hinted a wish, or had 
Mr. Westwood, when he kindly undertook the farther identification of 
the forms of Crustacea which Mr. Hailstone had described . . . Mr. 
Westwood would, we are certain, have left the opportunity open. To 
this Mr. Westwood replies (p. 325) ... I do not admit, so far as 
principle is concerned, (although Mr. Hailstone is perfectly welcome to 
the imposition of the names of the animals in question,) that he is at 
liberty to claim the insertion of fresh trivial names . . . because, 
although he caught and described the animals, yet the trouble of ascer 
taining whether they had been previously described by crustaceologists 
or not was mine : and every naturalist is aware that this is a greater 
task than the mere describing of an animal. Unquestionably, therefore, 
as the manuscripts were placed in my hands in an imperfect state (so 
far as the absence of identification and denomination, which are the 
points in question) without the slightest intimation that Mr. Hailstone 
wished the subject to be again laid before him in case the species are 


undescribed, I had the right, in order to render the paper complete, to 
apply a specific name. 

"Mr. "Westwood undoubtedly takes the proper view in the last case, 
which is much more pointed than your own. I had intended to allude 
to several minor points in the discussion, but as you have not alluded 
to them, they may not have been considered and probably are not 
worthy of special note." 

The following opinion of Professor Sedgwick, was given unsolicited 
in a letter thanking me for a copy of my Ichnology. 

41 Whatever may hereafter be made of some of the anomalous and 
perhaps somewhat doubtful foot-traces in your American rocks, no 
one can ever deprive you of the honor of having been a great leader 
and discoverer, in a new and important branch of paleontology. Most 
of your determinations will, I doubt not, stand good : and independent 
of any points of doubt, I may ask, what should we have known of these 
strange paleontological puzzles, if you had not made us acquainted 
with them, and devoted so much precious labor on their elucidation? 

LONDON, Sept. 9, 1859." 

Professor Haidinger gave his opinion under precisely the same 

"I laid it, (your Report on the Fossil Footmarks of the Connecticut 
Sandstone,) before our public, in a meeting of the Imperial Geological 
Institute. It well deserts to be regarded as a monument of patient 
and unremitting scientific inquiry, in one of the most enigmatic depart 
ments of Zoology as well as Geology, and in which your labors have 
given us the most comprehensive general views, as well as single 
observations. But the work is also a monument for the fairness of 
your claims as the real scientific investigator of this most interesting 
subject, which, for any thing others had done, might still be unex 
plored, had you not taken it in your hand, and unremittingly worked 
at it ! So we are all bound to do you proper homage." 

VIENNA, Dec. 19, 1859." 

The following is Professor Owen s account of this discovery in his 
Paleontology : 

"Dr. Deane and Mr. Marsh of Greenfield, United States, first 
noticed in 1835, impressions resembling the feet of birds, in the sand 
stone rocks near that town. Dr. Hitchcock, President of Amherst 
College, United States, whose attention was called to these impres 
sions, first made public the fact, and submitted to a scientific ordeal 


his interpretations of these impressions, as having been produced by 
the feet of living birds ; and he gave them the name of Ornithicnites. 

" It was a startling announcement, and a conclusion that must have 
had strong evidence to support it, since one of the kinds of the tracks 
had been made by a pair of feet each leaving a print twenty inches 
in length. Under this term Ornithicnites Giganteus, however, Dr. 
Hitchcock did not shrink- from announcing to the geological world the 
fact of the existence during the period of the deposition of the red 
sandstones of the Valley of the Connecticut, of a bird which must 
have been at least four times larger than the ostrich." 

Dr. Duns opinion is contained in his review of my Ichnology in 
the North British Review. There was no necessity that either of 
these gentlemen should touch the question of this controversy, nor 
was there the slightest intimation made to them that it was desired. 
" Professor Hitchcock," says Dr. Duns, " has not, however, been per 
mitted to bear away his laurels without other hands making an 
attempt to grasp them. The experience which might almost be said to 
be common to all who strike out new thoughts, or bend their energies 
into new paths, has been his. Rival claims to priority in scientifically 
investigating and describing the footprints have been made. The con 
troversy is one which admits of an easy settlement ; and after study 
ing it without bias, we have not the least doubt but that in the pages 
devoted to it in the present Report, Dr. Hitchcock has settled it. Dr. 
Deane had accidentally found some specimens of tracks lying upon 
the side- ways at Greenfield, and had informed the author, who com 
missioned the finder to purchase them for him. They fell under the 
eye of science when Dr. Hitchcock obtained them. Had they been 
left to Dr. Deane alone, they would have been lying on the side 
ways still. Professor Hitchcock set to work at once, and for six 
years, during all which time Dr. Deane was silent, he worked con 
stantly at the footprints. Professor Hitchcock claims to have been 
1 the first to investigate and describe them as a matter of science. 
The claim, we beg to assure him, was long ago admitted by British 
naturalists. The opinion of Professor Owen, which we have quoted 
above, should be decisive on this point." 


It would leave but an imperfect impression of my labors if 
I were to give no account of the amount of my publications ; 
for with such a constitution as mine, the composition and 
printing of books is far more trying to health than the most 


active labors in the field, and in giving instruction in College. 
I never yet completed a book without finding my health a 
good deal, and sometimes quite seriously impaired. 

Most of the works and papers which I have published have 
been brought out during my connection with the College. 
But to make the list as complete as possible, I shall put down 
all I can recollect that were printed at an earlier date. Some 
of these were indeed juvenile productions, extremely defective 
and abounding in errors of taste, but I am not ashamed of the 
leading thoughts, and believe they are all favorable to morality 
and religion. 



1. A Wreath for the Tomb. 12mo. 250 pages. 1839. A second 
Edition in 1842. A London Edition in 1842, with an Introduction 
by Dr. J. Pye Smith. Jackson and Walworth. 

2. Religious Lectures on Peculiar Phenomena in the Four Sea 
sons, with three Plates. 12mo. 143 pages. Second Edition in 1851. 
Third Edition in 1861, with additions ; 176 pages. A London Edition 
without date. James Blackwood. 

3. Religion of Geology and its connected Sciences. 12mo. 511 
pages. 1851. A second Edition, enlarged to 592 pages. 1859. 
One 8vo. and one 12mo. Edition in London, in 1851. Another Lon 
don 12mo. Edition in 1855. Another London Edition with additions, 
in 1859. James Blackwood. 

4. Religious Truth illustrated from Science. 12mo. 422 pages. 

5. An Exhibition of Unitarianism. 35 pages. 1824. 


G. Did Christ advance any New Moral Precepts ? Christian Spec 
tator, Vol. 1, p. 397. 2 1-2 pages. 

7. General Survey of the Works of God. Christian Spectator, 
Vol. 4, p. 337. 7 pages. 

8. Influence of Nervous Diseases upon Religious Experience. 
Christian Spectator, Vol. 9, p. 177. 29 pages. 

9. On Pulpit Exchanges between the Orthodox and Unitarians. 
Spirit of the Pilgrims for 1828. 34 pages. 

10. On the Connection between Geology and Natural Religion. 
Biblical Repository for January, 1835. 27 pages. 


11. On the connection between Geology and Revelation. Biblical 
Repository, April and October, 1835. 8G pages. 

12. On the Historical and Geological Deluges. Biblical Reposi 
tory, January and October, 1837, and January, 1838. 127 pages. 
The above three articles were republished in Edinburgh, in the 
Biblical Cabinet. 


13. Importance of an Early Consecration to the Missionary Work. 
Before the Society of Inquiry in Amherst College. Published in 
the Christian Spectator, Vol. 10, p. 573. 10 pages. 

14. The Highest Use of Learning . Inaugural Address when 
inducted into the Presidency of Amherst College, April, 1845. 45 

15. Relations and Mutual Duties between the Philosopher and the 
Theologian, before the Porter Rhetorical Society in Andover Theo 
logical Seminary, in 1852. 45 pages. Bibliotheca Sacra, 1853. 

1C. Special Divine Interpositions in Nature, before the Theologi 
cal Seminaries of Bangor and Newton, in 1853. 34 pages. Bibli 
otheca Sacra for October, 1854. 

17. A Chapter in the Book of Providence, before the Mount 
Holyoke Seminary, in 1849. 42 pages. 

18. The Waste of Mind ; before the same, in 1842. 46 pages. 

19. The Cross in Nature, and Nature in the Cross ; Bibliotheca 
Sacra for April, 1SG1. 35 pages. Delivered as a Lecture at Amherst, 
Montreal, Troy, N. Y., &c. 

20. The Law of Nature s Constancy Subordinate to the Higher 
Law of Change ; Bibliotheca Sacra for July, 18G3, 72 pages. Also, 
as a separate volume. I shall not probably live to see its publication, 
but as it is essentially prepared, I trust it will appear when I am gone. 

21. Charge to Dr. Stearns at his Installation over the College 
Church, Nov. 21st, 1854. 8 pages. 

22. Valedictory Address on leaving the Presidency of Amherst 
College, Nov. 23d, 1854. 27 pages. 

Single Sermon*. 

23. Utility of Natural History. 32 pages. Delivered before the 
Berkshire Medical Institution at Pittsfield, in 1823. 

24. Retrospection. 24 pages. Delivered in Amherst College, in 

25. Four Sermons on Diet, c., published in the National Preach 
er. 44 pages. A fifth was prepared but never published. 

26. The Sun going down at noon. At the funeral of the wife of 
Rev. Mr. Lord, of Williamsburg, Thanksgiving Day, 1829. 19 pages. 


27. The Minister s Rule of Duty. At the Ordination of Rev. 
Flavel Griswold, at- South Hadley Falls, in 1828. 31 pages. 

28. The Coronation of Winter, in 1845. Published at the request 
of the Students of Amherst College and Mount Holyoke Seminary. 
A second Edition was published. 

29. The Inseparable Trio. An Election Sermon preached before 
Governor Briggs, Jan. 2d, 1850. 45 pages. 

30. Sermon at the Funeral of Rev. Dr. Packard, of Shelburne. 
23 pages. 

31. Sermon at the Funeral of Mrs. Dr. Woodbridge, of Hadley. 
15 pages. 

32. The United States a commissioned Missionary Nation. 
Preached in Amherst College, and published by the Society of 

33. The Catalytic Power of the Gospel. Preached before the 
Massachusetts Home Missionary Society, at its Anniversary in 
Boston, in May, 1852. 32 pages. 

34. The Religious Bearings of Man s Creation. Preached before 
the Massachusetts Convention of Congregational Ministers in Brat 
tle Street, Boston, May, 1854. Also as an Address before the The 
ological Society of Dartmouth College. Also preached in Conway, 
Mass., Brooklyn and Buffalo, N. Y., and Milwaukie, Wis., and Dr. 
Sprague s Church, in Albany, at the time of the meeting of the 
American Scientific Association, by whose Local Committee it was 
published. 31 pages. 

35. Extract from my Farewell Sermon at Conway, in the Christian 
Spectator, Vol. 8, p. 120. pages. 

Newspaper Articles. 

3G. Account of Revivals in Mount Holyoke Seminary. Hamp 
shire and Franklin Express, for May, 1846, New York Observer, &c. 

37. Revival of Religion in Amherst College. Hampshire and 
Franklin Express, April 30th, 1846. 

38. Revival in 1850. Hampshire and Franklin Express, April 
19th, 1850. 

39. Revival in the College in 1850. Hampshire and Franklin 
Express, April 19th, 1850. 

Tracts, (published by the American Tract Society, N. Y.) 

40. Cars Ready. 1848. 4 pages. 

41. The Blind Slave in the Mines. 1848. 4 pages. 

42. Murderers of Fathers, and Murderers of Mothers. 12 pages. 



1. Dyspepsy Forestalled and Resisted. Lectures to the Students 
of Amherst College. 8vo. 360 pages, in 1830. Second Edition in 
1831, enlarged to 452 pages. 

2. Prize Essay on Temperance, it being the Fourth of the Lectures 
in the above work. The prize of $50 was offered in Boston, and 
awarded to me. Two Editions were published in 1830. 

3. Argument for Early Temperance, addressed to the Youth of 
the United States. This is the Prize Essay, altered and enlarged. 
18mo. 89 pages. Reprinted in London. 

4. History of a Zoological Temperance Convention, held in Cen 
tral Africa, in 1847. Printed in 1850. 160 pages, 12mo., with 13 
plates and 16 figures. Second Edition in 1855. 

5. Argument against the Manufacture and Sale of Ardent Spirits. 
24 pages. Published as a Tract by the American Tract Society in 
New York. 

6. Analysis of Wines from Palestine and Syria, and of American 
Cider. American Journal of Science, Vol. 46, p. 249, 10 pages. 


1. The Power of Christian Benevolence illustrated in the Life 
and Labors of Mary Lyon. 1 vol., 12mo. 486 pages, of which I 
wrote 200 pages. 1852. 

2. Obituary Notice of Mrs. Prof. W. C. Fowler. New York 

3. Some Account of the last hours of Prof. N. W. Fiske. Hamp 
shire and Franklin Express. 


1. Geology of the Connecticut. 8vo. 154 pages, 2 plates and 11 
figures, 1823. Appeared first in the American Journal of Science. 

2. First Report on the Economical Geology of Massachusetts. 
70 pages and a Geological Map. 1832. 

3. Report on a Re-examination of the Economical Geology of 
Massachusetts. 139 pages. 1838. 

4. Report on the Geology, Botany and Zoology of Massachusetts, 
in 1833. 692 pages. Second Edition enlarged, ordered by the Leg 
islature in 1835. 702 pages. 18 plates, and 60 wood cuts. 

5. Final Report on the Geology of Mass., in two quartos. 831 
pages in all. 52 plates and 275 wood cuts. 1841. 

6. Catalogue of Plants growing within twenty miles of Amherst 
College. 64 pages, in 1829. 


7. Catalogue of Plants and Animals in Massachusetts, (from the 
State Report.) 127 pages. 1837. 

8. Fossil Footmarks of the United States. Quarto. 128 pages 
and 24 plates. From the Transactions of the American Academy of 
Arts and Sciences. 1848. 

9. Report on the Ichnology of New England. Quarto. 232 pages, 
60 plates. 1858. 

10. Report on the Geology of Vermont. 2 vols., quarto. In all, 
988 pages, with 38 plates and 365 wood cuts. 1861. Of this work 
I wrote only about 211 pages, my son Charles 508, and Mr. Hager 
253. Of the plates, the first 17 were executed chiefly by my son, 
and the last 21 entirely by Mr. Hager. 

11. Report on certain points in the Geology of Mass, to the Gov 
ernment. Pamphlet of 44 pages and 3 plates. 1853. 

12. Explanation of the newly colored Geological Map of Massa 
chusetts. Pamphlet of 22 pages, 12mo. 1844. 

13. Three Preliminary Annual Reports, on the Geology of Ver 
mont, in 1857, 1858, and 1859. In all, 41 pages. 

14. Illustrations of Surface Geology. A quarto of 155 pages 
and 12 plates. 1856. Second Edition, with two additional pages. 

15. Elementary Geology. 1 vol., 12mo. 2 plates, 122 wood cuts. 
329 pages. 1840. The 8th Edition, in 1847, was enlarged to 361 
pages. And the 31st Edition, in 1860, was re-written. 430 pages, 
and 417 wood cuts. In 1841, an Introductory Notice was written 
by Dr. J. Pye Smith, and the work introduced to the British public, 
but whether a distinct Edition was published in London, I never 

16. Geology of the Globe. 1 vol. 8vo. 136 pages and 8 plates. 
1853. Contains a Geological Map of the whole world, and another 
of North America. 

17. The Country Almanac for the years 1814, 1815, 1816, 1817, 
and 1818. 236 pages in all. 

1. Botany. 

1. Description of Botrychium Simplex, (Nov. Sp.) with a draw 
ing. American Journal of Science, Vol. 6, p. 103. I believe our 
American Botanists have not generally admitted this species. But 
it has been found in Germany, and was admitted there at a very 
recent date. 

2. Physiology of Gyropodium Coccineum, with a plate. 4 pages. 
American Journal of Science, Vol. 4, p. 56. 


2. Mineralogy. 

1. Native Copper in Massachusetts. American Journal of Sci 
ence, Vol. 47, p. 322. 2 pages. 

2. Lincolnite Idem., Vol. 47, p. 416; Vol. 48, p. 64; and Vol 
49, p. 416. 2 pages. 

3. Tin at Goslien, Id., Vol. 16, p. 188. 2 1-2 pages. 

4. Topaz at Goshen, &c., I., Vol. 9, p. 180. 1 page. 

5. Topaz in the White Mountains, Id., Vol. 20, p. 410. 1 page. 

6. Chemical Analysis of the Topaz of Monroe, in Connecticut. 
American Journal of Science, Vol. 10, p. 352. 7 pages. 

7. Various Localities of Minerals described. Id., Vol. 14, p. 
215, in 17 pages. 

8. Yttrocerite in Massachusetts. Id., Vol. 47, p. 351, in 2 pages. 

3. Geology. 

1. Remarks on the Mineralogy and Geology of a Section of the 
Connecticut Valley. American Journal of Science, Vol. 1, p. 105, 
in 17 pages, and a Geological Map. 

2. Geology of Martha s Vineyard, with a Geological Map. 8 
pages. American Journal of Science, Vol. 7, p. 240. 

3. On certain causes of Geological Change in Massachusetts now 
in operation. Boston Journal of Natural History, Vol. 1, p. 69. 14 
pages. 1835. 

4. Sketch of the Geology of Portland and its Vicinity, with a 
Geological Map and 8 wood cuts. Boston Journal of Natural His 
tory, Vol. 1, p. 306. 42 pages. 1836. 

5. On the Glacier Theory, as held by Murchison and myself. 
American Journal of Science, Vol. 43, p. 396. 3 pages. 

6. Remarks on the Glacier Theory, before the Geological Asso 
ciation. Id., Vol. 45, p. 324. 2 pages. 

7. Letter from Mr. Dobson, on Iceberg Drift. Id., Vol. 46, p. 169. 
3 pages. 

8. On the Trap Tufa of the Connecticut Valley. Id., Vol. 4, new 
series, p. 199, in 9 pages, with 2 wood cuts. 

9. Remarkable Trains of Drift Bowlders in Berkshire County. 
Id., Vol. 49, p. 258. 8 pages, with 2 wood cuts. 

10. Phenomena of Drift in North America. Transactions of the 
Geological Association, Vol. 1, p. 164. In 58 pages and 2 plates. 

11. Description of Several Species of Fossil Plants from the new 
Red Sandstone of the Connecticut Valley. Same work, p. 294. 
2 1-2 pages and 1 plate. 

12. Notes on the Geology of Western Asia. Same work, p. 348. 
75 pages and 1 plate. 


13. Analysis of Marl. American Journal of Science, Vol. 36, p. 

14:. Ornithichnology, or Description of the Footmarks of Birds 
(Ornithichnites) on the New Red Sandstone of Massachusetts. 34 
pages and 3 plates. 1836 : American Journal of Science, Vol. 29, 
p. 307. 

15. Ornithichnites in Connecticut. Id., Vol. 31, p. 124. 

16. Fossil Footsteps in Sandstone and Gray Wacke, with a general 
Table of. Id., Vol. 32, p. 174. 2 1-2 pages. 

17. Five New Species of Fossil Footmarks. Transactions of 
American Association of Geologists and Naturalists, Vol. 1, p. 254. 
11 pages and 1 plate. 

18. Report on Ichnolithology to the American Association of 
Geologists and Naturalists, with a Description of Several New Spe 
cies, and the Coprolites of Birds. American Journal of Science, 
Vol. 47, pp. 113 and 292. 32 pages and 2 plates. 

20. Analysis of the Coprolites from the New Red Sandstone of 
Connecticut Valley. Id., Vol. 48, p. 46. 15 pages. 

21. Miscellaneous Remarks on Fossil Footmarks, with a letter 
from Prof. Owen. Id., Vol. 48, p. 61. 4 pages. 

22. An attempt to Name, Classify and Describe the Animals that 
made the Fossil Footmarks of New England. Proceedings of Amer 
ican Association of Geologists and Naturalists, p. 23. 

23. Description of two New Species of Fossil Footmarks in the 
Connecticut Valley. American Journal of Science, N. S., Vol. 4, 
p. 46. 12 pages and 3 wood cuts. 

24. On New Fossil Footmarks. American Journal of Science, 
N. S., Vol. 21, p. 96. 3 pages and 1 wood cut. 

25. Additional Facts respecting Octozoum Moodii. Proceedings 
of American Association for 1856, p. 228. 

26. Remarks upon Certain Points in Ichnology. Proceedings of 
American Association of Science for 1860. 12 pages and 4 wood 

27. On Certain Conglomerated and Brecciated Trachytic Dikes in 
the Lower Silurian Rocks of Vermont, with special reference to the 
degree of heat at the time of their production. Proceedings of 
American Scientific Association for 1860, p. 156. 2 pages. 

28. Additional Facts respecting the Clathopteris of East Hamp 
ton. Same work, p. 158. 1 page. 

29. Description of a Slide on Mt. Lafayette, at Franconia, N. H. 
American Journal of Science, Vol. 14, N. S., p. 73. 4 pages. 

30. On a new Fossil Fish and new Fossil Footmarks. American 



Journal of Science, Vol. 21, N. S., p. 96. 4 pages and 1 wood cut. 

31. Description of a large Bowlder in the Drift of Amherst, with 
parallel strias upon four sides. American Journal of Science, Vol. 
22, N. S., p. 397. 3 pages and 1 wood cut. 

32. On the Conversion of certain Conglomerates into Talcose and 
Micaceous Schists and Gneiss, by the Elongation, Flattening and 
Metamorphosis of the Pebbles and the Cement. American Journal 
of Science, Vol. 31, N. S., p. 372. 21 pages and 10 wood cuts. 

33. Account of the Collections of Rocks and Minerals at Heidel 
berg. American Journal of Science, Vol. 17, p. 400. Also Vol. 39, 
p. 199. In all 7 pages. 

34. New Mineralogical Hammer. Id., Vol. 7, p. 175, with a wood 

35. Report on the Geology of Texas, connected with Captain 
Marcy s Report. 16 pages. 

36. Abstract of paper on Terraces, &c., read before the British 
Association at Edinburgh. See its Proceedings for that year. 

37. New Facts and Conclusions respecting the Fossil Footmarks 
of the Connecticut Valley. American Journal of Science for July, 
1863, p. 46. 11 pages. 


1. Description of Cylinders of Snow formed by Wind. American 
Journal of Science, Vol. 2, p. 375. 

2. Description of a Disruption in the Frozen Earth in Deerficld 
Meadows. Id., Vol. 1, p. 286. 7 pages and 1 plate. 

3. Singular Effects of Lightning on John Williams, Esq., of 
Conway. Td., Vol. 5, p. 125. 5 pages and 1 plate. 

4. Meteorological Journal kept at Deerfield in 1817 and 1818. 
Id., Vol. 4, p. 333. 5 pages. 

5. On the Meteoric Shower of Nov. 13th, 1833. Id., Vol. 2,">, p. 
354. 8 pages. 

6. On Vibrating Dams. Id., Vol. 45, p. 370. 1 page. 

7. On the Potato Rot. Hampshire and Franklin Express. 

8. Account of Spots on the Sun. In the Franklin Herald. 


1. Cordier s Essay on the Temperature of the Globe translated 
from the French. 1 vol. 12mo. 94 pages, with an Introduction and 
Notes ; 1823. Done nominally by the Junior Class but I had to 
go over the whole to prevent mistakes. 


2. De la Beche s Theoretical Geology, with Preface and Notes. 
342 12mo. pages ; 1837. 

3. Genesis and Geology, by Denis Crofton. 12mo. 99 pages. 1853. 

4. Introduction to the Plurality of Worlds. 8 pages. 


1. Of Corrybeare and Phillips Geology of England and Wales. 
American Journal of Science, Vol. 7, p. 203. 38 pages. 

2. Of Olmsted s lleport on the Geology of North Carolina. Id., 
Vol. 14, p. 230. 20 pages. 

3. Of Buckland s Reliquiae Diluvianse. Christian Spectator, 
1824, p. 415. 23 pages. 

4. Of Cordier s, Scrope s and Silliman s Works on Internal Heat. 
Christian Spectator, Vol. 11, p. 464. 18 pages. 

5. Of Buckland s Reliquia3 Diluvianae, in American Journal of 
Science, Vol. 8, p. 1G8 and 317. 45 pages. Entirely different from 
that in the Christian Spectator. 

6. Dana s Muck Manual. American Journal of Science, Vol. 43, 
p. 192. 6 pages. 

7. Of Owen s Paper on the Dinornis. American Journal of 
Science, Vol. 48, p. 194. 8 pages. 

8. Of Bailey s New Method of Determining the Longitude. 
American Journal of Science, Vol. 9, p. 107. 13 pages. 


1. With Edmund M. Blunt, of New York, on errors in the Nau 
tical Almanac. 3 Nos. in the American Monthly Magazine for 
1817 and 1818. 4 pages. 

2. With the Episcopalians, respecting the time of Easter. In a 
paper published in Greenfield, which is lost. It must have been in 
one of the years in which I published the Country Almanac. 

3. With Professor (now Bishop) Potter, about some points in the 
Temperance movement, growing out of a Report of mine, of a 
Convention in Saratoga. They were inserted in the New York 
Evangelist, and I should think must have been equal to 8 or 10 
pages. 12mo. 

4. With Prof. Amos Eaton, on Geological Nomenclature. Amer 
ican Journal of Science, Vol. 9, p. 146. 8 1-2 pages. 

5. With Prof. Moses Stuart, on several points of connection 
between Geology and the Bible. Biblical Repository for April, 1836. 
40 pages. 

6. With Dr. James Deanc, on the discovery of Fossil Footmarks. 
American Journal of Science, Vol. 47, p. 390. 10 pages. 


7. Defence of my claims in this controversy, in the Springfield 
Republican, and Reply to Dr. Bowditch, May, 1859. 6 pages, octavo. 

8. Mr. Draper, the first discoverer of the Footmarks. Springfield 
Republican, May 2 1st, 1859. 1 page. 

9. With Rev. Mr. Chapin, of Connecticut, on Fossil Footmarks. 
The Knickerbocker for September, 183G. G pages. 

10. With Rev. Erastus Hopkins, on a Railroad through the Con 
necticut Valley. In the Journal of Commerce and the Hampshire 
Gazette. Perhaps 6 pages. 

11. With the editor (Jonathan A. Saxton, Esq.,) of a Unitarian 
paper in Greenfield, in reply to his attack upon " the Exhibition of 
Unitarianism." My reply appeared in the Boston Recorder, making, 
perhaps, 4 pages of 12mo. 

12. With one of the editors of the Christian Register, (Rev. Mr. 
Morrison,) published in that paper in several numbers, on the Res 
urrection of the Body. 5 pages. 

13. I afterwards gave a fuller reply to Rev. E. H. Sears and Prof. 
Haven, especially on Bodily Identity, in an Exegesis of 1 Cor. xv. 
2544, in the Bibliotheca Sacra for April, 1800, p. 303. 10 pages. 


1. Downfall of Bonaparte ; a Tragedy of 108 pages, 12mo. 1815. 
A juvenile production which should not have been published. But 
it contains some real poetry, and was loudly called for by the rural 
population before whom it was acted with much success. 

2. The Prodigal. Christian Spectator, Vol. 1, p. 300. 

3. Declining Health. Franklin Herald ; date forgotten. 

4. The same subject. Hampshire Gazette for 1818. 

5. Fragment on Disappointment. Hampshire Gazette, March, 

6. The Fate of Genius. Franklin Federalist for 1817 or 1818. 

7. Scene on the banks of the Connecticut. (Footmarks.) Knick 
erbocker; date forgotten. 

These poetical fragments will probably make as much as G or 8 


1. Description of Turner s Falls in Connecticut River, with a 
Sketch by Mrs. Hitchcock. Portfolio, Philadelphia, 1818 

2. Review of the " Reediad." Hampshire Gazette, December, 

3. Detection of a Plagiarism in Franklin Federalist, November, 


4. Nos. 49, 50, 51 and 52 of the Weekly Monitor, in Franklin 
Herald for 181G. 4 pages. 

5. The Moral Telescope, in 30 Nos., in the Franklin Federalist 
for 1817 and 1818. The plan good, but the literary execution very 
juvenile. 30 pages. 

6. Fragments on the Political Condition of the United States. 
Franklin Herald, November, 1812. 

7. Several Brigade and Division Orders, in the Franklin Feder 
alist, while I was Aid-de-Camp to Gen. Hoyt. 

8. A Dream respecting the Removal of Williams College. Frank 
lin Herald, December, 1818. 

9. Appeal to the Public in behalf of Amherst College in several 
Nos. of the Boston Recorder for 1832. 

10. The Pangynaskean Seminary (Holyoke) Explained and De 
fended, in the Boston Recorder, several Nos. 

11. Description of the Scenery in Berkshire County, t in several 
Nos. of the Boston Recorder. 

12. Scenery of the White Mountains Described, in several Nos. 
of the Boston Recorder. 

13. Correspondence from Richmond, Virginia, in the Express at 
Amherst ; several letters 

14. Visit to the Mid-Lothian Coal Mines in Virginia, in the 
Richmond Watchman and Observer ; copied with remarks into the 
Richmond Times. 

15. Ancient Relics in Tennessee. Hampshire and Franklin Ex 
press, for March 4th, 1846. 

10. Naming Mount Toby anew. Same paper, for June 22d, 1849. 

17. Mesmeric Meeting of the Senior Class of 1849. Same paper, 
November, 1849. 

18. Popular Description of the New Cabinet and Observatory of 
Amherst College. A Pamphlet of 19 pages. Also in the Hamp 
shire and Franklin Express. 

19. Railroads in Vermont and New Hampshire. Hampshire and 
Franklin Express, September 3d, 1846. 

20. Report of the Meeting of the American Scientific Association, 
at Washington, for the Journal of Commerce, May 23d, 1844. 

21. Case of Optical Delusion in Sickness. New Englander for 
1845. Vol. 3, p. 199. 7 pages. 

22. Address at the Dedication of the new Geological Hall in 
Albany, August 27, 1856, in Tenth Annual Regents Report. 7 pages. 

23. Address at the Inauguration of Edward Everett to the Presi 
dency of Harvard College. Published in the Proceedings, 



24. Letters from Europe, to the New York Observer, in 1850, 
five in number. 10 pages. 

25. Address at the Quarter-Century Celebration of Mt. Ilolyoke 
Seminary in 1861. See the volume of Addresses. 

26. The first and last chapters of Hitchcock s Elementary Anat 
omy and Physiology. 43 pages. The rest was written by my oldest 





Wood Cuts. 

On Religion. 
Keligious Volumes, . 



Essays, ... - 





Addresses, . . 





Single Sermons, . . 





Newspaper Articles, 





Tracts, ... 





On Temperance. 
Volumes and Tracts, . . . 





Volume and Notices, 





Scientific Productions. 





Papers in the Journals, ..... 






Number, &c., 










Volumes and Pieces, 














Distinct Volumes, ... 
Separate Pamphlets, (Sermons, &c.,) 
Papers in the Journals, . 
Newspaper Articles, . . 




Several of the papers in the Journals that were never published 
separate, are much more elaborate, and cost me much more labor 
than some of the distinct volumes. Thus the Articles on the Con 
nection between Geology and Natural and Kevealed Religion, in the 
Biblical Repository, amounted to 240 pages, and demanded much 
research and study. 

In looking at the preceding list I feel tempted to make 
many remarks; but must be very brief. 

1. In the first place it strikes me as showing that I have 
written and published too much, both for reputation and use 
fulness. I mean that had I spent more time in preparing my 
productions, their literary execution would have been more 
creditable, and the thoughts more mature and effective. I 
refer particularly to my earlier efforts ; for the later ones, I 
trust, show more of care and finish. The peculiar circum 
stances of my early life, however, first led me to write and 
publish, and probably if I were to live my life over again, I 
should pursue essentially the same course. 

2. It ought also to be mentioned that a large part of the 
subjects on which I have written have been novel, requiring 
original researches, and the descriptions have required accu 
racy rather than literary elegance. Where supposed discov 
eries are made few men will hesitate to publish an account of 
them, though a high literary finish be wanting in the 

3. But though my writings have been thus voluminous, it is 
some consolation to be able to say that in these eight thousand 
pages, I know of nothing unfriendly to morality or religion ; 
nothing that would lead men to embrace error in doctrine or 
practice. For though not a few pages were written before I 
embraced my present views of religion, none of my productions 
would lead any one to suspect that I did not always maintain 
the views I now do. This seems to me like an act of restrain 
ing grace, for which I have great reason for gratitude. 

4. It is well calculated to humble pride and self-sufficiency 
to realize how few, if any, of these productions will survive the 


present generation. If any of them do, it will be owing to 
their connection with Christianity. This is a thought of great 
importance to authors who would give their works a permanent 

o. Yet it ought to be added that most of these works of 
mine were not written with the expectation that they would go 
down to posterity, but to aid a little in advancing present 
knowledge in adding some items that should go into the 
general stock ; so that although the works themselves should 
be forgotten, some feeble influence at least might remain upon 
the great cause of learning and religion. 

The work which I did aim to make of permanent value, 
Providence, as I have elsewhere detailed, never allowed me 
to write. I mean a Treatise on Natural Theology. All that 
I have written was but the scaffolding and a few of the braces 
and pins of the edifice I had hoped to build. 

G. I feel bound also to record the fact, that nearly all the 
important works on the preceding list were written during 
the thirty-seven years of my residence in Amherst, that is, 
since the time when I supposed I had nearly finished my 
earthly labors. For when I came to Amherst such was my 
debility that I honestly thought I could not do much more. 
Yet since then, the great work of my life has been accom 
plished. All that preceded was only the preparation. Ho\* 
wonderful the ways of God, and how different from ours 
What encouragement does my case give to the despond in; 
invalid, in the early and middle periods of life. Let him 110* 
despair so long as any stamina remains in his constitution 
and his maladies are only functional, not organic. God may 
have wonders in store for him yet. 

7. Let me not omit to mention also, that for the two hun 
dred and thirty-two plates and eleven hundred and thirty- 
four wood cuts in my works, I have been mainly indebted 
to the pencil and the patience of my beloved wife, aided in 
later years by my daughters. Though pressed by the cares 
of a numerous family, rarely, if ever, during forty years, has 


she turned a deaf ear to my solicitations for drawings. And 
without these, my scientific labors would have been meagre 
enough. I had no means for employing a regular, salaried 
artist, and my own skill in the limner s art has always been 
very small. How providential that such a wife should be 
given me ! 


The following statements will fully explain themselves. I trust 
it will not be deemed vanity if I confess the gratification which 
such an event gave me, or regard it as proper to present it among 
the striking features of my personal history. 

President STEARNS, in behalf of the Faculty and Students, spoke 
as follows : 

41 LADIES AND GENTLEMEN : The Faculty and Students of Amherst 
College have been desirous to make some public expression of their 
veneration and affection for a distinguished Professor of this Col 
lege, a gentleman who, for age, for wisdom, for sterling virtues of 
every character, and especially for his devotion to the College, 
during the period of one whole generation and more, deserves in 
some respect the title of Father of us all. 

I can, of course, refer to no one else but the venerable and beloved 
Dr. HITCHCOCK. We have admired the simplicity and godly sincerity 
of his character ; we have admired his remarkable abilities and achieve 
ments in science ; we have admired his love for the College, for it in 
its collective capacity, for its Faculty, and most of all, his love for its 
students. We have admired the kindness and generosity of his heart ; 
we have admired the indomitable energy of his character, and that 
Christian devotion to the highest interests of the church and the world, 
which, among hosts of others, we have witnessed, and which has made 
lasting impressions on our hearts. 

We bless God that He has given to the interests of this College one 
who has served it faithfully for thirty and four years, in the midst 
of its good and of its evil report ; one who has stood by it in the 
days of its adversity, when it went down, as it did go down, into 
the depths of trial, when false friends forsook it, and true friends 
began to grow cold in heart towards it when there was a falling 
off of friendships, as the sere and withered leaves fall from the trees 
when the early frosts of winter have smitten them. Our venerable 
Father, in these days of darkness, stood by Amherst College, and 
with some of his colleagues, two or three of whom are still in the 


midst of us, bore it on his noble shoulders till he bore it up and on 
to prosperity, as seen here, and all around us, to-day. When recently 
smitten by a gigantic disease, tears started from many eyes, and 
prayers went up from many hearts ; and when the life we had loved 
was preserved, we wished to present some testimonial to him of our 
delight in his recovery, and some token of thankfulness to Almighty 
God, for this, his goodness unto us. 

" It was difficult to decide what should be the gift. "We knew that 
there was nothing within our means at all commensurate with his 
merits on whom we would bestow it, but we decided at length, 
on this service of silver which you see. These two cups which you 
see before you, which might look somewhat suspicious under some 
circumstances, we knew would be safe in the hands of an old veteran 
temperance soldier, who gave in his pledge more than a quarter of a 
century ago, and has kept it ever since. You see them as they have 
come from the hand of the artist, innocent of deleterious drugs ; they 
will always remain innocent while they continue in the hands of him 
to whom we now deliver them. 

"This simple pitcher has inscribed upon it the name of Edward 
Hitchcock ; honor enough for the pitcher ; even if it were made of 
gold seven times purified. We could not disfigure it by the addition 
of another single word. 

"This salver contains in the centre the following inscription: 






" On one side of this inscription are embossed these beautiful old 
mountains, (pointing to Mount Holyoke,) on which he has gazed I 
know with admiration, for half a century ; which he has traversed, 
which he has measured, which he has compelled to give up the 
secrets of a past eternity to his investigations, and that beautiful 
river along whose banks he has so often travelled, and mused of the 
revelations which they had disclosed to his view. 

" On the other side is engraved a scene which I shall not attempt 
to describe at length, save to say that it is taken from an engraving 
in the volume most recently published by him, " The Ichnology of 
Massachusetts." In it you will see some of those footprints in the 
sands of time, the discovery and arrangement of which have contributed 


so much to give him reputation, not only in this country, but all 
over the scientific world. 

"This, then, is in brief, an explanation of our gift. We shall 
convey it into the hands of the Doctor, with the approval, I have 
no doiibt, of this entire congregation. 

"Doctor Hitchcock, we would respectfully ask you to accept this 
service of silver from the hands of the Faculty and Students of 
Amherst College. We would like, if you please, to have you place 
it, from time to time, in situations where your friends and ours can 
see, not how highly we esteem your merits, for that we could not 
express in these outward forms, but where they can see that we loved 

"We rejoice in your recovery, and pray that your life s sun, 
which has shone out among us so long, may shine on through a long 
and peaceful afternoon, and largest and brightest at its setting. 

"If it may please you, we would like that this service should be 
transmitted to some one who shall inherit, in some good degree, 
your ability, your taste and your devotion to science. We would 
like that it should always be in the hands of some one of your pos 
terity, and we would that they might be numerous as those of the 
old Patriarch, of whom it was said that his descendants should be 
as the stars of Heaven, provided only, that they partake largely of 
the characteristics of their ancestor. But, whether they be few or 
many, it is our hope that there may never be wanting among them, 
from generation to generation, a man who shall be found walking in 
the foot-marks of his illustrious progenitor." 

"To the above address, Dr. Hitchcock replied as follows : 
" MR. PRESIDENT : It is not usual for a man who has seen over 
three-score years to be thrown into circumstances entirely new to 
his experience; but your announcement just now has brought me 
into that predicament. 

"But what shall I say of the superb present you have now ten 
dered to me in the name of the whole College ? My first remark in 
regard to it may seem ungracious, yet I rather think duty requires 
me to make it. A glance shows me the costliness of the present, 
and knowing the disposition of the members of College to aid every 
noble enterprise, I fear that when they find how many other more 
important objects solicit their aid, they will begin to think that they 
have been too liberal towards me, and have acted more through the 
influence of generous feeling than from a proper estimate of my 
claims compared with those of higher moment. Perhaps, however, 


you may say to me as a certain ancient monarch did to one who 
thought him too liberal : the present may be too great for you to 
ask, but not too great for the members of Amherst College to bestow. 

" Another remark occurs to me which may seem ungracious, for 
it is a criticism which calls in question the taste you have displayed 
in the getting up of this rich gift. In the works of nature nothing 
strikes us more forcibly than the adaptation of one thing to another 
in order to produce harmony. Now my difficulty is, that these bril 
liant and dazzling articles, constructed of one of the most beautiful 
of metals, with high artistic skill, are not exactly adapted to the well 
known character of him on whom they are bestowed a man who 
has made plainness and simplicity of living a sort of hobby, and who 
has rubbed so hard against the rocks that most likely they have 
given him some degree of angularity and roughness. 

"But I will not be very severe in this matter, either upon you or 
myself, for it is a true adage which says, De gusiibus non est dispu- 
tandum, (about different tastes there should be no dispute.) No, 
no ; it is far better to think of the animus with which the gift is 
bestowed than to be carping about its character. And in the present 
case, when I reflect upon the animus, every other feeling gives place 
to gratitude to the generous hearts that have devised and completed 
this elegant testimonial. It has come, too, at the right time, if ever 
any such gift was to be bestowed. You have waited till the working 
day of my life is essentially over, and thus shown that it is a testi 
mony of approval of my past services, (always excepting my errors 
and deficiencies,) and not as a stimulus to make me faithful in future. 
It comes, too, at an unexpected time, as a sort of agreeable appendix 
to my life, when God is granting me at least a brief respite from 
fierce disease, and it will furnish me with some sweet remembrances 
to carry with me to another bed of sickness, which may be near. 
It will tend also to make me feel that I have not lived altogether in 
vain, as in the hour of despondency one is apt to feel he has done. 

"This testimonial, as I understand it, and as you have explained 
its devices, has special reference to my labors in connection with 
this College. 

" If at any time since I have been connected with the Institution, 
the great Captain above had ordered me to make an attack upon 
Satan and his legions in some of his strongholds, with a view to 
make him a captive, I could have found here a body-guard of a 
hundred men, so prepared for the enterprise that I should have gone 
forth with a pretty strong hope of being able to bring back the old 
fellow in chains. At any rate, those thousand men who have gone 


forth from us in years past, have given him more trouble than per 
haps any other thousand he has ever encountered ; and when they 
are reinforced by a few more classes, I expect the news will be, if 
not that he is captured, yet, that he is cooped up in close siege in 
one of his strongholds. 

" To be willing to labor hard in such an Institution, I do not think 
entitles a Christian man to any special commendation, but its high 
character does enhance the value of any honor it may bestow. In 
conclusion, I will only say to its members, both officers and students, 
essentially what Boerhaave near the close of life said to Linnasus, 
4 1 have tried to do something here for the cause of learning and 
religion, but may God preserve you all, from whom the world 
expects much more. " 


The preceding Personal Sketches have shown that my 
path through life has been hedged up by some obstacles of a 
peculiar kind, which have clung to me like the coat of Nessus. 
With some references to the most prominent of these, I shall 
close this autobiographical sketch. 


During all my early days, this was the gaunt giant that 
stood in my path to heat me back and drive me into bye 
paths. I remember the time when my money with which to 
purchase books was obtained by cutting wood or doing other 
servile labor, for eight cents an hour, or keeping a district 
school for eight dollars per month, or thirty cents by the day. 
My salary as preceptor of Deerfield Academy was only $300, 
and as a pastor in Conway, only $500. In College it has 
been from $800 to $1,500. I have never complained of this, 
nay, I think I am now better off, pecuniarily, than if I had 
had large salaries, because the small ones necessitated rigid 
economy, and compelled me to keep on the look out for side 
chances to make a little money by lecturing, writing, &c. 
But books, apparatus, and specimens require money, and so 
does the leisure demanded by successful literary and scientific 
researches; and in a multitude of ways, especially to the 


youthful aspirant who has no prestige to recommend him, the 
influence of poverty is painfully depressing and discouraging. 
It was so to me during all the early part of my twelve years 
struggle for an education, before reaching a profession. 


Another of the lions in my path was weakness of eye-sight, 
that came upon me, as elsewhere related, in consequence of 
the mumps. For a year and a half, in connection with 
poverty, it almost completely cut me off from all literary 
pursuits, and for forty years it held its grasp upon me so 
firmly, that scarcely ever could I use the eyes for an hour 
Without pain, and severe prostration of the animal spirits, 
cutting down my ability to study, as I judged, full one-half. 
Through the kindness of Providence, for a few years past I 
have been, in a great measure, relieved from this suffering ; 
but during the active period of my life it may afford some 
apology for haste and inaccuracy in my productions. 


I have referred to this deficiency in another place, with 
special reference to the Presidency of the College ; but I now 
speak of it in all its bearings. Great as its literary disadvan 
tages are, I think them less than its other evils. It raises 
presumptions in the public mind against your ability and reli 
ability, that require the most strenuous efforts to overcome, 
and make your passage to place and influence very slow and 
difficult. But still worse, it deprives you of the sympathy 
and companionship, and the assistance, when needed, of cla.-s- 
juates, who occupy various positions in society ; if you have 
never passed through college, you will be left to struggle 
on alone when trouble overtakes you, or help is needed to 
secure some boon. Little do men who have never expe 
rienced it, know what a trial it is to attempt to pass through 
life as a literary and professional man, unassisted and unblessed 
by kind and sympathizing room-mates and classmates, and 


college companions. It makes life s struggle doubly severe 
and trying. Weak eyes and poor health deprived me of this 
boon, in spite of my efforts ; but I have never ceased to urge 
young men in a literary course to secure it, if possible. 


This has been the grand incubus that has lain upon me and 
oppressed me for fifty years. At the commencement of that 
period dyspepsy assailed me, and has never since let go its 
hold. I have never passed a whole day of those fifty years 
when I was not reminded in some part of it, by pain or 
discomfort of some kind, that I had not vigorous health, and 
how many have been the days when serious indisposition 
assailed me. For the last twenty years my symptoms have 
been greatly aggravated and have extended to other organs 
besides the digestive. The intensity and continuity of my 
sufferings have been gradually increasing until of late, when 
they have become almost unremitting and overwhelming, 
causing me to cry out earnestly for Divine Help and for the 
Son of Man to walk with me in the furnace. But why should 
I attempt to describe my sufferings, both in bodily distress and 
mental dejection ? I have no wish that any one should learn 
their bitterness by experience, and I am sure that is the only 

But on the other hand, I ought to say that I have generally 
been in such a condition that the exercise of some resolution 
would bring my powers, both of body and mind, into successful 
action, and dispel dejection, and that, moreover, the effort 
usually reacted favorably upon my health when not carried to 
excess. Hence, probably, few men have lost less of time than 
I have. Though unable to labor spasmodically and with con 
densed effort, I have been able to labor constantly, almost in 
fact without vacation, and here is the chief secret of whatever 
success has crowned my endeavors. 

I ought, however, to mention thankfully, that while the other 
vital centres have always been more or less deranged, the 


brain has been unusually free from headaches and other 
ailments, so that I have been able to work even in the midst 
of severe pain, and in fact during some of the fevers that have 
afflicted me, my head being but slightly affected, I have been 
able to employ an amanuensis with success. And now when 
I suffer sa large a part of the time, I find it an alleviation to 
have some subject of literature or science to engage my atten 
tion and divert it from my pains. The only danger is that 
when so feeble I am apt to overwork. 

But to stand up against so much of infirmity and mental 
dejection as accompanies nervous complaints has been with 
me a hard and long drawn struggle. A few words as to the 
chief weapons I have employed. 


These have been chiefly two : TEMPERANCE AND HARD 
WORK. As to the first, though the system which I adopted 
many years ago has brought a good deal of ridicule and odium 
upon me, its imperfect adoption has been an indispensable 
means of giving me strength and courage for my labors. It 
gave me the greatest amount of bodily and mental vigor of 
which I was capable, and in a measure removed the torpor and 
irresolution so paralyzing in dyspeptic complaints. 

Perhaps, however, it is even more important to be under 
some pressure of interesting and noble pursuits, and to be 
compelled to labor much in the open air, in order to counteract 
these hydra-headed maladies. And in no respect have the 
dealings of Providence towards me seemed more marked and 
special than in placing me in such positions as demanded a 
large amount of labor, and much of it mechanical and in the 
open air. As I once said at an agricultural dinner, where 
jrymnastic exercises had been the prominent exhibition: "I 
know nothing of technical gymnastics; but I have been in 
three very distinct gymnastic schools. The first was the 
agricultural, where I spent the first twenty years of my life, 
and which was admirably adapted to develop and strengthen 


all the powers. The second was the chemical gymnasium, 
where I spent another twenty years, or at least an important 
part of them ; and though not as good as the agricultural, 
because within doors and associated with too many" mephitic 
gases, yet the active labor it requires made it to me a valuable 
school. The third was the geological gymnasium, the best of 
all to me, because I could adapt its exercises from gentle to 
severe, to the varying states of my health, also because it opens 
before the mind such grand and exhilarating truths. In this 
school I have spent more than forty years." And were I not 
too feeble for geological explorations even now I might hope 
to feel the powers of life rallying anew for yet further labors. 
But alas ! I can never climb the glorious mountains more. I 
can only gaze at them as I pass away from earth, anticipating 
celestial mountains and a celestial geology far transcending 
those below. 

It is obvious, from this history, that though God has won 
derfully adapted my circumstances to my constitution by a 
variety of means, modified in each successive position which 
I have occupied, yet geology has been by far the most impor 
tant instrumentality by which I have so long resisted the slow 
workings of disease, and been able to labor, almost unremit 
tingly, for half a century. I am inclined, therefore, in closing 
these autobiographical sketches, to let the benefits which I 
have derived from this science stand instar omnium a sort 
of representative illustration of God s merciful dealings in all 

I wish to testify publicly to my deep indebtedness to 
geology ; or rather to that kind Providence which first turned 
my attention to this science, and has allowed me for a period 
of fifty years to study it practically. It was not my first 
scientific love, for, at an earlier date, the heavens above 
had charmed my intellect and awakened youthful enthusiasm. 
But when failing health forbade nightly communion with 
the stars, I turned to the earth as a child to its mother, 
in hope of relief; nor was I disappointed. For, in the prac- 


tical study of this science, I have ever since found such relief 
as no medical skill could give, although in fact it is just the 
prescription which the ablest physician would make ; for I 
have always found that when able to go forth a la mode yeo- 
logique, and climb the mountain top, there drinking in the air 
as pure as God first made it, and partaking of my frugal 
repast by the side of the clear, sparkling spring, then anon to 
penetrate the deep and wild mountain gorge, with its ragged, 
overhanging cliffs above, and its murmuring waters below; 
and then to open the long-folded leaves of the rocky strata, 
and find the register there of mighty revolutions and strange 
races in the hoary past : to find, in fact, everywhere mar 
vellous disclosures of the great plans of Jehovah, such as 
make one forget his ailments and ordinary cares I have 
always found, I say, that such excursions have proved the 
best of restoratives to the exhausted system, ijow often, 
when worn down by professional labors and distracting cares, 
and feeling the prostration of lurking disease, have I thus cast 
myself into nature s maternal arms, and nursed for a time on 
her bosom, have returned reinvigorated to my work, buoyant 
and happy. I feel, then, that I owe my life, at least many 
years of it, to geology. For I can honestly say, with Richard 
Baxter, that I have now lived forty years since the time when 
I would gladly liave accepted of Hezekiah s lease of fifteen. 
Nor do I believe that without the hygienic aid of geology I 
should have exceeded the king of Judah s lease. 

But I am deeply indebted to this science, also, for the 
enjoyment of life ; I mean physical and intellectual pleasure. 
He is most conscious of enjoyment from health, who feels it 
wholly or partially returning to his long debilitated and suffer 
ing frame. That feeling have I often experienced as the result 
of the excursions I have described ; or at least the exhilara 
tion thus produced has made me forgetful of my real and 
fancied ailments, and even expelled the nervousness and 
gloom of dyspeptic, bronchial and neuralgic attacks. But it 
is mainly the intellectual enjoyment of geological research to 


which I refer. I reckon, and who does not reckon, among 
the purest pleasures of life, the opportunity to gaze upon the 
beautiful, the bizarre and the sublime in natural scenery. 
Such occasions form delightful oases along life s barren sands. 
We never forget them. They have few or no drawbacks, 
and we enjoy them by retrospection over and over again, and 
with increasing relish. But though such scenes lie not exclu 
sively within the province of the geologist, he is prepared 
better than others to enjoy them. His home is among them. 
There is no mountain so high that he does not scale it, no 
gulf too profound for his adventurous step ; no region so wild 
and desolate that is not full of interest to him. 

" His arc the mountains and the valleys his, 
And the resplendent rivers ; his to enjoy 
With a propriety none else can feel. 
Are they not his by a peculiar right, 
And by an emphasis of interest his ? " 

For he sees in them what others do not. Their views are 
limited by the present aspect and outline. But he sees, in 
imagination, those mountains originally rising out of the deep, 
by igneous agency, and then anon disappearing again beneath 
the waters, whose oceanic waves and currents, loaded with 
icefloes and icebergs, grind down and striate the rocky bottom. 
Again these ocean beds rise to the daylight, and from their 
summits glaciers descend along the valleys to the ocean, and 
at length returning heat melts them away, and the surface 
assumes its present outline, and becomes a habitable world. 
Nor are these mere fancy sketches, but the evidences of the 
changes meet the geologist on every side. Thus in his mind 
moral beauty and sublimity are added to those that are 
natural, increasing vastly his interest and enjoyment. 

And the same effect follows from the immense antiquity of 
geological changes, so far exceeding that of human history. 
The very dawn of chronology indeed forms only the starting 
point of the geologist, and its whole extent forms scarcely a 


measurable unit of the almost immeasurable past. Does the 
archrcologyst become enthusiastic as he studies the catacombs, 
the pyramids, and the hieroglyphics of Egypt, because they 
lead so far back into history ? But the geologist can point to 
the delta of the Nile already nearly completed when the pyra 
mid builders lived and the mummies were embalmed ; or to 
the fossil forest near Cairo which grew long before the delta 
was begun ; or to the other formations along the borders of 
the desert which preceded the forest by countless ages. Or he 
can run back far, far beyond all this, still surely conducted by 
the thread of geological facts. And what by the side of all 
this is even Egyptian antiquity, and why should not the 
geologist feel at least equal enthusiasm with the Egyptologist? 

We contemplate with a kind of awe the old carved bulls 
and lions and winged gods dug from the ruins of Nineveh. 
But the geologist knocks out the petrified shell found in those 
figures, and can trace back its history ten thousand ages to the 
time when it lived in cretaceous or oolitic seas. 

In this country we speak of an Ante-Columbian history as 
giving a hoary aspect to our annals, and making them there 
fore of intense interest. But the geologist can point to beds 
of gravel and sand near the tops of most of the New England 
mountains, and to the erosions of their summits by icebergs 
and glaciers, showing that once the ocean stood for ages above 
them, and that an arctic climate prevailed ; nay, he can show 
where the Connecticut and the Hudson, by the slow action of 
their streams, have cut gorges into the rocks a thousand 
feet deep. Indeed, passing beyond the Rocky Mountains and 
following down the Colorado, he can show you canons or gorges 
a mile deep which that river has worn into the solid strata. 
Compared with the period requisite for such a work, how 
dwarfed into a point is all human history. And how can this 
immense antiquity of geological events but give them intense 
interest, and their investigation, rich enjoyment. For almost 
every stroke of the hammer brings up a new relic of some 
geological Nineveh. 


But I have found in geology a still higher source of gratifi 
cation and one not expected. It has deepened my convictions 
of the truth not only of natural but of revealed religion. It 
has bound together into one system these two great branches 
of the subject. It has done more. It has illustrated and con 
firmed many of the truths denominated evangelical. What 
are called the Doctrines of the Reformation, which I adopted 
on the testimony of the Scriptures, I could not now give up 
without discarding geology also. Covered over as the geolog 
ical records are with proofs of Divine Benevolence as exhibited 
in a fallen world, and of miraculous and providential interven 
tions, how gratifying the labor of deciphering them. I was 
once wandering in the deep darkness of a coal mine a thousand 
feet below the surface, when I was accosted by a Welsh miner 
with the inquiry, " What is the state of religion where you 
came from ? We have a revival here ! " An appropriate 
place, thought I, to find evidence of God s special care of the 
spiritual wants of man, enveloped as we were by the proof 
of his prospective and special provision for his physical wants. 

As I once stood by the side of the Mer de Glace at 
Montanvert on the side of Mont Blanc, looking across the 
Glacier, we saw rising before us those numerous needle shaped 
mountains which form one of the most striking features of the 
Alps, one of them, the Auguille Verte, shooting up seven 
thousand feet. Together they seemed a city of gigantic myia- 
rets or church spires, and so impressed was an English gentle 
man by my side with the resemblance and the grandeur of the 
scene, that he requested my companion, an American clergy 
man, to offer prayer. And the request seemed appropriate ; 

" So like a temple did it seem that there 
A pious heart s first impulse would be prayer." 

And so, were the heart right, would many other spots seem 
which the geologist visits. 

I know, indeed, that many imagine geology to be unfavorable 
to piety, and tending to scepticism. I can say only that it has 


not been so with me, but the reverse; strengthening my faith 
in the great principles of the gospel, and enabling me to see 
something of the Cross in Nature and something of Nature in 
the Cross. 

But my special object in giving these details of private 
history and feeling, is to induce my readers to turn their 
attention, at least as a matter of recreation, to the out-door 
study of geology. Confined as most men are, a large part 
of the year, by engrossing pursuits, seasons of relaxation 
abroad are indispensable not only to their comfort, but to 
enable them to do the most at home. Gladly at such times 
would I entice you into the wild scenes of Nature. The 
mountains, the valleys, the gorges, the beetling cliffs, the 
caverns, the mines, the wild cataracts, the deep solitudes, stand 
ready to welcome you, to inspire you with fresh vigor, and to 
feast you with their beauties and sublimities, as much as if 
none before you had revelled upon them. In the height of 
balmy summer then, when nature cries out for a respite from 
protracted cares and labors, let me exhort you to go forth, not 
with fishing tackle and fowling-piece, (the meagre resort of 
many,) but with minds well stored with scientific principles, a 
hammer in hand, and an aneroid barometer by your side, and 
laying your course for the mountains, learn the character of 
the rocks, their origin and fossil contents, and seek the 
evidences of those stupendous revolutions which they have 
undergone, not forgetting to trace the Divine Hand in them 
till. If you join botany and zoology to geology, so much surer 
will you be to acquire a settled relish for Nature s works. That 
once attained and you have secured a source of health and 
happiness, and of mental improvement too, of which no earthly 
change can rob you. Strange would it be, if as years roll on, 
some of the bright eyes that scan these pages should not be 
dimmed by sorrow, and the wan and pallid countenance succeed 
to the rose of health now in full bloom. Strange if the icy 
blasts of disappointment or bereavement, or the treachery or 
neglect of the world should not chill some of the generous hearts 


whom I address. But oh, what a solace will you find in a 
sanctified, Christian love of Nature ! She is the kind parent of 
us all, and she always has a soothing voice and a healing balm 
for her disheartened and afflicted children. Nor can even the 
infirmities of age chill and paralyze this holy love for her. I 
testify at the age of threescore and ten, that though I find the 
powers of life giving way, and a growing indifference to the 
works of Man, my attachment to the works of Nature has all 
the ardor and enthusiasm of youth. Hannah More testified 
that it was so with her at fourscore and two. And why should 
it not be so with the Christian forever ! for though the first and 
the sweetest song of heaven is, Worthy is the Lamb that was 
slain, yet the second sounds from the same golden harps, with 
a rapture scarcely less, GREAT AND MARVELLOUS ARE THY 


Abbott, Jacob, 


Cabinets, History of, 



Adams, C. B., 
Adullam or Sunderland Cave 
Agents to procure funds, 
Agricultural Schools, 
in Europe, 


pecuniary value of, . . 
scientific estimate of, . 
use of, .... 
Cabinet of Society of Inquiry, 
Calhoun, William B., . 


Agriculture, Board of in Mas 

Canons on the Colorado, 


sachusetts, appointed Secre 

Charity Fund, . . 118 

, 147 

tary, .... 


amount expended, . 
Chain Ponds, .... 


Alden Ebenezer, . 


Allen, Dr., speech on Nonotuck, 
Almanac, Nautical, errors in,. 
Amethyst Brook, . 
Anatomy, Instruction in, 


Child, Linus, .... 
Christians, English, fidelity of, 
Cirencester, Incidents at, 
Clark, Daniel A., . 


Antivenenean Society, . 


Joseph S., 


Members of, 


W. S., Prof., . 


Appleton Cabinet, . 
Archaeological Cabinet, . 
Astronomy, Love of it, . 



Cobden, ttichard, his opinion 
of the Scenery on the Hud- 


Astronomical Observations, . 


Cowles, Kufus, 

oo J 

Association of American Geol 
ogists and Naturalists, 


College Duties, amount of as 


Association, American, for Ad- 
vancement of Science, 


amount of as President, . 
College Honors, 



College Hill, ... 


Beaches, Old Sea, and Bot 

Condit, J. B., Prof., 


toms, Old Sea, . 
Beneficiaries, Number of, 


Conway, Dismissal from, 
Conversions in College, . 


Billings, Elisha, . 
Biographical Notices, . 


Correspondence, Epistolary, . 
Credit, Building on, 



Blunt, Edmund M., contro 

Crescent, .... 


versy with, .... 


Crisis in the History of the 

Boalt/J. 11., Speech on Kil- 

College terminated, . . 


Boltwood, Lucius, 

9, 120 

Crosby, Joshua, . . . 
Crowell, E. P., Prof., 


Botanical Collections, 


Bowlders, .... 
Bucklaml, Professor, in an In 


Dangers of the College, 
Debt of the College, 



sane Hospital, . 


Effects of, 


Bunsen, Chevalier, Anecdote 

Cancelled, . . , 


concerning, .... 


Debtor s Prison, . . . 


British Association, Scientific, 

Dedication of the Cabinets, . 


meeting of, . 


Delta Terraces, 


Members of, 
Moral tone of, . 


Departments of Study, time 
for each, 






Dickinson, Austin, ... 9 
Edward, ... 8 
Enos, .... 67 
Samuel F., 5 
Nineveh Gallery, . . 67, 104 
Diploma of Antivenenean So 
ciety, . . . . 156 
Discouragement and Feebleness, 336 
Dormitories, .... 153 
Duns, Dr., on the Footmark 

Controversy, . . . 378 

Dunes, 278 

Education, Public, wanting, . 398 

Society, its Beneficiaries, 205 

Edwards, Henry, ... 13 

BelaB., . 23 

Ely, Alfred, .... 21 

Ellis, Mrs., her female school, 350 

Eolus, Naming of, . . . 261 

Estabrook, Professor, . . 38 

Esty, W. C-, . 42 

Europe, Tour in, . . . 338 

Tour in, objects and rules of, 340 
Eyes, Weak, ... 398 
Excursions for Naming Moun 
tains, 212 

Expenses, Annual, of the Col 
lege, . . . 180 

Annual, increasing, . 208 

Field, T. P., Prof., . . 40 

Financial History of the College, 117 

of the Crisis in, . . 124 
Fiske, N. W., Professor, . 30, 77 

his Speech on Holvoke, . 224 

Fiske, John, . . " . . 19 

Fortification taught in College, 296 
Fossil Footmarks, Controversy 

about, 374 

Fowler, William W., Speech 

on Rock Rimmon, . 245 

William C., Prof., . . 40 

Freshmen, abuse of, . . 333 

Funds of the College, . . 148 

Expanding, . . . 149 

Geology around Amherst, 270, 311 
Geology, its benefits, . . 401 
Geologist s Dell, . . . 227 
Geologist, his peculiar plea 
sures, 403 

Geological Surveys, . . 364 

Ghor, . . . . . 243 

Glaciers, marks of, in Wales, 342 

Gneiss, 271 

Golden Gate, .... 217 

Gorge Terraces, . . . 277 

Greenstone, .... 273 

Graduates, Number of, . 
Graves, Rufus, 
Gymnasium, . 
Gymnastics, three kinds, 




Haidinger, Prof., his opinion 

on the Footmark Controversy, 377 

Haldeman, Prof., Letter from," 374 

Hardy, Alpheus, . . . 14 

Haven, Joseph, Prof., . . 39 

Health, Feeble, . . . 399 

improved by Geology, . 402 

Hiawatha, Mt., . . . 258 
Herrick, T. P., Speech on Po- 

cumtuck, .... 255 

History, Ante-Columbian, . 404 
Hitchcock, Edward, Speech on 

Holyoke, . . . 225 

Speech on Norwottuck, . 229 

Speech on Nonotuck, . 248 
Speech on presentation of 

Plate, .... 395 
Mrs. O. and Daughters, 

their drawings, . 294, 392 
Edward, Jr., Speech on 

Mettawompe, . . 42, 234 
C. H., Speech on Pocumtuck, 255 
Professorship, its endow 
ment 292 

Homerton College, . . 348 
Hooker, John, ... 10 
Hovey, Sylvester, ... 34 
Hoyt, Gen. Ep., my patron, . 283 
Humphrey, Dr., Sketch of, . 25 
Leonard, speech on Nor 
wottuck, ... 228 
Hunterian Museum of Ana 
tomy, London, . . . 346 

Ichnological Cabinet, . 81 

Cost of, . . 88 

Indian Relics, . . 108 
Influence of Friends during 

revivals, . . . 170 
Instructors, Names of, 

Inquiry Meetings, . . 1*8 

lo, . .- . . . . 266 

Jewett, G. B , Prof., . . 40 
Johnson Chapel, ... 57 
Jones, Edward, (colored) Pres 
ident of a College, . . 331 

King, Jonas, . . . 37 
| Kindness to Strangers in Ger 
many and Scotland, . . 354 
Kilburn Peak, ... 257 





Lateral Terraces, . 

Paste. 1 
277 1 Natural Sciences, time devoted, 


Lectures given in College, 


Naming Mountains, reason for 


Legislature grants aid to Col 


Nettleton, Dr., 
Newspaper Articles, 



Leland, John, 


Northerner, . 




Norwottuck, . 


London, its objects of interest, 




Lyell, Sir Charles, his kindness, 


Nutonk, .... 


Magnet, The, .... 


Obstacles encountered, . 


Mallet, J. W., Prof., . 


Occident, The, 


Mantel], Dr. Gideon, his kind 

Orient Crest and the House, 


attention, .... 


Origin and Object of the Col 

Mather, R. EL, Prof., . 
Mcsnv*rit ,IMcctin fr of the S6n~ 



Olds Prof. .... 


ior Class . . 


Owen, Prof. Richard, his great 

Mettawompe, .... 


discovery, . 


Mica Schist and Granite, 


on the Footmark Contro 

Ministers Graduated at Am 

versy, .... 




Ministers of different Denom 

Packard, Rev. T., . 


inations, .... 


Park, E. A., Prof., 


Ministers, relative number of 

Peabody, W. A., Prof., . 


Graduated at different Col 

Peculiarities of Constitution, 




Personal History, . 


Minerva s Seat. 


Philosophical Cabinet, . 


Missionaries, Literary stand 

Phillips Jonathan, his Liber 

ing of. . 


ality, .... 


Graduated at Amherst, . 


Poem on Nutonk, . 


Sketches of, . 


Pocumtuck, . 


Missionary Collections, . 


Popular Education, Views of, 

Missionaries, List of, 


in Scotland, 


Monsell, Hon. William, his 

President s House, . 


kindness, .... 


Professors in Amherst College 

Montague, W. L., Prof., 




Moore, Z. S., . 


in 1845 carry on the Col 

his Wife, .... 


lege without full sala- 

Moore Fund, its amount, 



More, Hannah, her love of 


Professorships, Number of, 
Changes in, 


Moraine Terraces, . 


Poverty, Early, . . 397 

, 281 

Mt. Aquilo, .... 


Prayer-Meetings. . . 167 

; ns 

Boreas, . . . . . 


Prayer, Day of, for Colleges, . 


Castor, . . . , 


Presidency, invitation to it, . 


Doma, . . 


arguments for and against 

Holyoke,. . 


accepting it, 


Hygeia, .... 


Plate presented, 


Pleasant and Pleasanter, 


Powder Plot, .... 


Pollux, . . . 


Providence, Kindness of, 


Taurus, . * 


Publications, List of, . . 


Warner, . . 


Tom, .... 


Rebellion, Case of, . . , 


Museum of Economical Geol 

Religious Views, . 


ogy in London, . 


Religion confirmed by Geol 

ogy, . . . " . 


Natural History Fund, . 


Religious History of the Col- 

Natural History, when first 




Reminiscences, Sad, . . 


its influence on health, . 


Revivals, .... 






Revivals, Means used in, 


Summary of the Contents of 

Different Types of, . 


the Cabinets, ... 99 

Revival of 1850, . 


Sunderland objects to naming 

of 1858 


Mt. Toby, .... 236 

Rhine, Fellow Passengers 

through its Gorges, 


Tappan, John, . . 12, 151, 363 

Richmond, Ya., Sojourn at, . 


Taylor, James, ... 3 

Rigi Culm, View from, . 


Temperance, History of, . 151 

River Beds, Old, . 


Temperance, the grand remedy, 400 

Rock Etam, .... 


in Eating and Drinking, 297 

Oreb, .... 


the System Taught, with 

Rimmon, .... 


its Modifications, . . 298 

Rocking Stone, 


Terrace Lake, ... 267 

Titan s Piazza, . . . 226 

Sandstone, .... 


Pier, . . . . 227 


Torrance J. D., his life sacri- 

Scholarships, .... 


ficed 334 

School of Mines in Paris, 


Trap Tuff, .... 274 

Sears Fund, . . . 115 

, 132 

Tracks in Stone, Discovery of, 86 

Sedgwick, Prof., on the Foot 

Trask, Israel E., ... 10 

mark Controversy, 


Trustees and Friends, Sketches 

Seclye, J. II., Prof., 


of, .... 14 

Sentinel, The, 


Votes of, in 1847, . . 133 

Silliman, Prof., his instruction, 


Tuckerman, E., Prof., . . 42 

Shelburne Falls, . 


Turner s Falls, ... 268 

Shepard, Prof. C. U., . 


Tyier, W. S.,. ... 127 

Speech on Holyoke, . . 


Cabinet, .... 


University of Edinburgh, its 

Smith, Dr. J. Pye, his rare ex 

Cabinets and Library, . 346 

cellence, . . . 


Smith, Nathaniel, . 


Vaill, Joseph, . . .19, 122 

Smith, Henry B., . . . 


Veins of Copper and Lead, . 279 

Snell, E. S., 


Vibrating Falls at South Had- 

Societies, Secret and Anti- 

ley, 269 

Secret, .... 


Victoria, Queen, at Prayers, . 303 

Opinion of Presidents con 

Vose, J. G., Prof., . . 41 

cern ing, 
Statistical History of Amherst 



Wales, Travel in, ... 341 

A\ r flrnor Aftron 17 

Stearns, Dr., his Character, . 


Wavland, Francis, ... 22 

his Speech, 


Wci.ster, Noah, ... 11 

Speech on Nonotuck, . 
Speech on Pocumtuck, . 


Webster, Daniel, on Temper 
ance, 302 

Stimpson s Fund, its amount, 


Wilder, S. V. S., . . . 10 

Students, Indigent, assisted, . 


AVilliston, Sam l, Sketch of, 16,69,135 

Number of, in Amherst 

Wine at Breakfast, . . 304 



Woods Cabinet, ... 60 



Worcester, S. M., ... 30 

Studies in College, time de 
voted to, 


Works published, Remarks on, 391 
World, its immense Age, . 404 

Subjects perplexing in College, 
Sugar-Loaf, .... 


Zoological Cabinet, . . 90,94 

Summary of Works published, 









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