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Approved by Authorities of the respective Universities 

HARVARD. . 1636 


YALE 1700 


PRINCETON . . 1746 






ALBERT LEE, Y.ale '91 HENRY G. PAINE, Columbia 'So 




Vol. I 



Copyright, i8g8, by 

The University Press 
Cambridge^ U.S.A. 



The Concord, Washington, D. C, April i, 1897. 
R. Herndon Company, 

Sirs, — Your plan for " Universities and their Sons " greatly interests me. An 
effort was made by the United States Bureau of Education in preparing for the 
exhibition at the Centennial in Philadelphia to arouse among these institutions an 
interest in their own history and in the work accomplished by their alumni ; plans 
were carefully prepared and circulars issued, and gentlemen specially qualified were 
employed to visit and confer with trustees and faculties of a considerable number 
of institutions. This effort, in connection with that previously made, to make such 
study of the lives of the alumni as would enable us to find the true value of this 
grade of instruction, brought out surprising deficiencies in the records of many 
institutions. Some had no complete set of their catalogues, much less could they 
give any satisfactory account of the lives of their alumni. 

Much has been done since, by the publishers of college books and journals, 
and specially by the issue of college histories by the Bureau, to disseminate this 
information. These results have been increased by the multiplication of alumni 
associations. But all that has been done does not set forth the needs which 
remain, which your plan will so far meet. The struggle to do the most imperative 
work has forced omissions which it would seem should now cease. 

How often do both the faculty and the students of a generation fail to gain 
the inspiration justly theirs, by reason of the lack of knowledge of the sacrifices 
and triumphs of those who have gone before them? How many fail to bestow their 
wealth in aid of this instruction, and how many sons fail to take advantage of it, 
because they, or those advising them, do not know what those receiving it have 
thereby gained to themselves, or what they have contributed to the uplift of man- 
kind and the advancement of civilization? If every man is a debtor to his pro- 
fession, how much more is every "University Son" indebted to his education? 

May the whole body of " Universities' Sons " respond in the fullest measure of 
co-operation to the promotion of your purpose so well planned, and whose execution 
is so well assured by the character of your Editor-in-Chief and his associates. 

Sincerely yours. 

^^r^'~^->'''7^'X^ ^2-<22-^^^zi^^ 


UNIVERSITIES AND THEIR SONS is intended to occupy a new 
field in University history, and it is believed will be of very special 
practical interest and value to the community and to the Universities 
themselves. The leading object of the work is to recognize the place which our 
higher institutions of learning have held in the development of our whole public 
character and work as a country or nation. 

This shows the Universities in an aspect not commonly observed, or made 
of account. They are usually thought of as facilities for the education and culture 
of the individual ; and in later years, as places where researches in science and 
philosophy are carried on and turned to good account for the general interest 
of education. But this work proposes to bring out in a clear light the practical 
influence which these institutions of learning have had, in not merely the "learned 
professions " and literature, but in what we call " business," extending to indus- 
trial and commercial lines, and in fact to all that expresses itself in the character 
and prosperity of a nation. 

The first series, of which this is the initial volume, is devoted to four of the 
great Universities — Harvard, Yale, Princeton and Columbia — which have held 
the earliest and highest place in the educational forces of this country. The 
series will be complete in five volumes, appearing at intervals of about three 
months. The first contains, besides other matter, editorial and biographical, a 
historical sketch of each University, setting forth in a complete and scholarly 
manner not only the facts of its life, but its prevailing characteristics and its 
influences. The second will consist of biographical sketches, with portraits of 
administrative officials, faculties and instructors — the men who have made the 
several institutions what they are to-day, and are making the American Univer- 
sity of the future. The work will then proceed to give in the following volumes 


of the scries the important facts in the lives of Sons of these four Universities, 
together witli portrait-representation, when such can be secured. 

When it is considered that the Alumni of Harvard, Yale, Princeton and 
Columbia number nearly seventy thousand, and that there are more tiian forty 
thousand living sons of these institutions, widely scattered not only over the 
country but throughout the world, it becomes at once apparent that to secure 
data and give space for biographical representation of any considerable propor- 
tion of them in a work of this character would be a physical impossibility. Nor 
is it necessary to the purpose of the work. The Publishers have planned to give 
representation to from three to four thousand subjects. This, they believe, will 
be adequate to fulfil the design of the work; and the collection of the required 
material for a greater number of biographical sketches than this would necessarily 
extend over so long a period that the connection between the later and the earlier 
volumes would be in dancfcr of being lost. 

In making selection of subjects for representation, the Publishers gratefully 
acknowledge valuable aid rendered by University officials, Class Secretaries and 
officers of various Alumni Associations, but they have relied mainly on the results 
of personal investigation made by their agents into the standing and comparative 
influence of individual University Sons in the respective communities where they 
reside. It is not in accordance with the plan of the work to confine these selec- 
tions to men of national prominence and reputation, nor even to such as have 
made their careers and acquired what is popularly termed "success in life." On 
the contrary, an especial effort has been made to give place to University Sons 
now engaged in making their careers, and who are representative men in the 
affairs of life, rather than to those who tower above their fellows in intellect 
and position, and have reaped their full reward of success and honors; to those 
who are actively, worthily and usefully filling a place in the w^orld, it may be in 
some modest sphere, but having in them the elements and spirit of growth and 
advancement to higher place and power; and particularly to obtain and present 
the facts showing the connection between their University training and the posi- 
tions they now occupy in the busy world outside. 

Nothing of like character and scope, so far as the Publishers are aware, has 
ever been given to the public. The class records and books of the Universities, 
issued periodically, contain such information as is procurable regarding the several 


class members, but unaccompanied for the most part by portraits, and the publi- 
cations are prepared solely for private distribution. In other works which have 
been put forth, Alumni who have held "official positions," or have been "officers 
in other colleges," have " served in the Civil War," or have received honorary 
degrees, are recognized as worthy of having the stories of their lives recorded in 
print, not only as a narration of practical benefit to their fellows, but as a matter 
of general interest as well. But the men of especial distinction above referred to 
form but a very small part of the whole number of Alumni. One can call to 
mind scores, hundreds, of University Sons who are active and useful members 
of society, prominent in business or in the professions, whose influence and 
example are worthy of emulation, and whose life-stories, if told, would convey 
most valuable lessons, 3-et who never held "official position," nor served in the 
army, nor received honorary degrees. Many of them are certainly entitled equally 
with the others to biographical recognition and honors. The influence of higher 
education, and especially of Harvard or Yale or Princeton or Columbia as an 
institution, upon " the directive power of the nation,' cannot be determined and 
shown in any other way than by studying the careers of these comparatively un- 
known individuals who are truly representative of the whole body of University 
Sons. And any investigation into this subject would be manifestly unfair, incom- 
plete, and of little practical value, if confined to the small number who have won 
public distinction and honors. 

Under the general title of " Contributions to American Educational History," 
the United States Bureau of Education has in the past ten years issued a series 
of monographs on the History of Higher Education in the several States. The 
work is the outgrowth of an organized inquiry concerning the study of history in 
American Colleges and Universities, instituted in 18S5, by General John Eaton, 
Commissioner, the results of which were published in 18S7 as a Circular of Infor- 
mation of the Bureau, under the direction of General Eaton's successor. Colonel 
N. H. R. Dawson. This investigation, conducted by Professor Herbert B. Adams, 
of Johns Hopkins University, who was engaged by General Eaton for that pur- 
pose, disclosed fields of special educational interest in the history of the various 
higher institutions of learning, and the outcome was the series of monographs 
which has been issued by the Bureau under the successive administrations of 
Colonel Dawson and Dr. W. T. Harris as Commissioners. These publications, 


although limited in circulation, like all government documents, have proven of 
widespread interest, and have had an excellent practical effect in attracting the 
attention of the large body of cultured and influential men engaged in College 
and University work to the direct and vastly important iniluence of higher educa- 
tion upon the life and growth of the American people. 

To take up this line of investigation and study on a more comprehensive 
and extended scale than would be practicable or possible under the restrictions of 
a bureau or department of the government, and to follow it into the ranks of the 
people and into the practical affairs of life, is the purpose of Uxivkrsities and 
TnKik Sons. That this purpose is warmly commended by the able men under 
whose inspiration and direction the only attempts at this important work have 
hitherto been made, is evidenced by the subjoined letters. 

It is confidently believed that the work cannot fail to fill worthily, and in an 
interesting manner, both a public and a University need, and an important place 
in the historic literature of the country. 




Preface i 

Introduction i 

Universities of Learning 23 

Harvard Universht, i 636-1 S98 43 

Yale University, i 700-1898 221 

Princeton University, i 746-1898 441 

Columbia University, 1754-1898 571 


VOL. I. — I. 



Washingtox, D.C".. January 23, 1897. 
R. Hkkmhjn Company, Boston, Massachusetts. 

CIknti.emen, — I am glad to learn lioui you that you arc undertaking the i)ublication 
of a series of volumes containing studies on the universities, colleges, and higher 
institutions of learning in the United Slates, paying special attention to the biog- 
raphies of the alumni of these institutions. It seems to me that this is an important 
field to occupy. It will interest not only the alumni of a college or university to 
study the influence of the institution in the careers of its graduates, but it will interest 
all people. It will answer the question : \\ hat practical influence does the higher 
education of the country ha\c ujJon its business and politics and literature, and, in 
general, upon the directive power of the nation? I trust you may prove entirely 
successful in carrying out your plans. 

Very respectfully. 

Coinnusswnci of ILducation. 


Bv W. T. HARRIS, PH.D., LL. D. 


HIGHER education in the United States is given chiefly in institutions that bear 
the name of college or university, numbering 486 separate institutions in the 
several States and Territories. A portion of the work is given in separate 
professional schools of law, medicine and theology, and also in schools of engineering and 
technology. According to the returns for the scholastic year ending July i, 1897, 
there were 76,204 students in colleges and universities; 10,449 students in the law; 24,377 
students in medicine; 8,173 students in theology; 10,001 students in engineering and 
technolog)'. The total number of students in higher education for the United States is thus 
129,204. About one for each 486 of the population is enrolled in schools for higher 

In order to understand these figures one must know accurately the meaning of the term 
" higher education." It may be said loosely that the first eight years' work of the child, say 
from six to fourteen years of age, is devoted to an elementary course of study. The next four 
)'ears (fourteen to eighteen) is given to what is called "secondary education," conducted in 
public high schools (409,433 pupils), in private academies and preparatory schools (107,633 
pupils), — a total of 517,066. Of pupils in secondary studies there is approximateh^ one in 121 
of the population. Higher education counts from the thirteenth to the sixteenth j'ear (inclusive) 
of the course of study, and counting in with it the post-graduate work it extends to the 
nineteenth year of the course of stud)^ (from eighteen to twent}--one or to twent\--four 
years of age). 

It would appear that of the undergraduates in universities and colleges about fifty-five per 
cent (a little more than one-half), are pursuing courses of study leading to the degree of Bach- 
elor of Arts, while nearly twenty per cent (or one-fifth of all) are candidates for the degree of 
Bachelor of Science. The total number of degrees conferred during the year 1895-96 was, for 
the Bachelor of Arts degree, 4,456 men and 706 women; for the degreeof Bachelor of Science, 
1,381 men and 277 women. 



The total benefactions reported bj- the sc\ eral liigher institutions as liaving been received 
during the year 1895-96 was $8,342,728. 










for women. 











































386,4 > 7 






1,37 ',445 






1882 83 


























4,5 45 '65 5 







































Ji 17,435,752 




The following comparative table will show the item of income for the past five 
years. In 1896 the income to the universities and colleges (not including colleges for 
women) from all sources, excluding benefactions, was $17,918,174; thirty-seven per cent of 
this was received in the form of tuition fees, twenty-nine per cent from productive funds, six- 
teen per cent from State and municipal appropriations, five per cent from endowments 
by the United States. The total of productive funds for the colleges and universities in 1895-96 
was $109,562,433. 



State or Territory. 






United States .... 






North Atlantic Division 






South Atlantic Division 






South Central Division . 






North Central Division . 






Western Division . . 






Of students admitted to universities and colleges in 1895-96, fort\--one per cent came from 
public high schools, forty per cent from preparatory departments of colleges, seventeen per 
cent from private preparatory schools. 


The American standard of what is called " Higher Education " is not precisely the same 
as that of Europe; there is a little more thoroughness of preparation, due perhaps to an earlier 
beginning in the stricth' preparator\- studies, in Europe as compared with America. In order 
to reduce the returns of higher education in the United States to the European standard it is 
necessary to omit the college students in the Freshman and Sophomore classes, and also omit 
all first \-ear students in the professional schools except those that have received the degree of 
A. B., or its equivalent. 

The following table prepared on this basis from a study of the catalogues of the several 

States for 1896, shows a total for the United States of 62,974 university students, measured by 

the European standard : 




It includes the undergraduates in tlie senior and junior classes, all students of theology, students of 
medicine and law in second and subsequent years, with all in the first year having the degree of V>.\. 












United States . . . 

North .Atlantic Division 
South Adantic Division 
South Central Division 
North Central Division 
Western Division . . 



































STl'nr.N'TS l\ IMVI'MiSI riKS. COI.I.IXJKS. V.TC. — Con/iiiiiri/ 




North Atlantic Division. 


New Hampshire . . 



Vermont .... 
Massachusetts . . 
Rhoile Island . . 
Connecticut . . . 
New York .... 
New Jersey . . . 
Pennsylvania . . . 

South Atlantic Division 

Delaware .... 
.Maryland .... 
District of Columbia 
Virginia .... 
West Virginia . . . 
North Carolina . . 
.South Carolina . . 
Georgia .... 

South Central Division. 
Kentuckv . 

Tennessee . 
.Mabama . 
Louisiana . 
Texas . . 
.•\rkansas . 
Oklahoma . 
Indian Territory , 

North Central Division. 


Indiana .... 


Michigan .... 
Wisconsin .... 
Minnesota .... 












1 22 


3 '4 



I 13 














2 31 















Medicine. Theology, j 

1 12 







1 1 























1. 179 


58 4 







2 24 
















1. 281 









1. 129 



















' To avoid misapprehension it should be noted that many students of this grade from the smaller .States attend the 
great universities of Harvard. Yale. Princeton and Columbia. 









Law. Medicine. 




Missouri . . . . 
North Dakota . . 
South Dakota . . . 
Nebraska . . . , 

Western Division. 
Montana . . . . 
Wyoming . . . . 
Colorado . . . . 
New Mexico . 
Arizona . . . . 


Nevada . . . . 


Washington . . . 


California . . . . 





1 10 



























I -'4 

1 ,346 




























President Charles F. Thwing, of Western Reserve Uni\'ersit}- at Cleveland, Ohio, has taken 
some pains ("Within College Walls," pp. 156 to 184) to ascertain the facts with regard to the 
proportion of men of directive power who have come into the communit}- from the college or 
university. Taking the six volumes of Appleton's Cyclopaedia of American Biography he finds 
sketches of 15,138 persons; of these 5,322 are college men. One out of e\er\- three persons of 
sufficient distinction to claim a place in a biographical c\-clopjedia is a college graduate. These 
5,322 form, according to his estimate, one out of each forty graduates now li\ing; while only 
one out of ten thousand of the population that has not received higher education has found a 
place in the C)clopsedia named. " Into one group gather together ten thousand infants and send 
no one to college ; one person out of that great group will attain through some work a certain 
fame ; into another group gather forty college men on the day of their graduation and out of 
these fort)', one will attain recognition. The proportion is in favor of the college men two 
hundred and fift\- times." See Dr. Thwing's table on page 6. 

In view of the influence of higher education to secure success in life, it is of great interest 
to inquire what it is that gives higher education this value. Is it the branches of study chosen. 



or is it the association with learned men as professors and with one's fellow-students in early 
manhood, or is it the discipline of work and obedience to prescribed regulations? 

Upon a little consideration it is evident that it is not a mere will training, not a life of 
obedience to regulations that gives its distinctive value to higher education. In elementary 
education a training in regularity, punctuality, self-restraint and industry, is perhaps the most 
important thing, but higher education gives directive power and this depends upon insight 
rather than \\\wn a habit of obedience. This insight may relate to human nature, and a knowl- 















Public Man 

Inventor • 

Actor ■. 

Explorer, Pioneer . . . 
Philanthropist .... 
Whole Number of Persons ) 
nanieil in Cyclopredia ) 


























1 1 

















IS. '38 

I'er cent 






16. 1 1 

35- '6 

edge of hmiian nature is gained by association with one's fellow-students and with professors 
and teachers; but it is gained more especially from books of science and literature. Or the 
insight ma>- relate to physical nature, and in this case it is the man who re-enforces his own 
observations b\- the records of others, that attains eminence. It is in fact the course of study 
in higher education that contributes the chief factor of this influence which college graduates 
exercise upon the comnnuiity. 

Higher education in the Middle Ages was limited to the Trivinm (grammar, rhetoric and 
logic) and Quadrivinm (arithmetic, geometry, music and astronomy). Grammar as the science 
of language reveals the structure of the instrument of human reason ; rhetoric deals with the 
art of persuasion and studies the structure of the written discourse; while logic deals directly 

1 By C. F. Thwing. 


with the structure of thought. The structure of thought, the structure of language and the 
structure of the written discourse furnish a proper study for the training of a critic of thought 
or of its exposition. 

Arithmetic was mathematics as understood in the Middle Ages ; while geometr>- in the 
Quadrivium signified an abridgement of Pliny's geography with a few definitions of geometric 
figures. Music signified poetry. 

Grammar, rhetoric, logic and music, dealt with language and literature and the laws of 
thought ; their study could not but result in giving to the youth an intimate kind of self- 

Three branches, arithmetic, geometry and astronomy, made the student acquainted with 
the world of nature in its mathematical structure and in its accidental features. 

The course of study in higher education has endeavored to make the youth acquainted 
with human nature and physical nature, and this more especially in their logical condition or 
permanent structure rather than in their accidental features. Directive power has for its func- 
tion to combine human beings with a view to realize institutions or to accomplish great under- 
takings. It makes combinations in matter directing the current of the world's forces into 
channels useful for man. To make these human combinations and these ph)-sical combinations 
possible the studies of the higher education are chosen. 

To realize how the colleges of this country ha\'e from the earliest times kept this in view, 
although perhaps unconsciously, a few examples of the requirements for admission are here 


I. — H.'VRV.iRD University, 1642. — When scholars had so far profited at the grammar schools, that 
they could read any classical author into English, and readily make and speak true Latin, and write it 
in verse as well as prose ; and perfectly decline the paradigms of nouns and verbs in the Greek tongue, 
they were judged capable of admission to Harvard College. — Peirce's History of Harvard, Appendix, 
p. 42. 

II. — Pkinceton Uxiversitv, 174S. — None may be admitted into college but such as being ex- 
amined by the President and Tutors shall be found able to render Virgil and Tally's Orations into 
English ; and to turn English into true and grammatical Latin ; and to be so well acquainted with the 
Greek as to render any part of the four Evangelists in that language into Latin or English; and to give 
the grammatical connection of the words. — Princeton Book, 5. 

III. — BowDOix College, 1802. — Principles of the Latin and Greek languages, ability to translate 
English into Latin, to read tlie Select Orations of Cicero, the .L:neid of Virgil, and an acquaintance with 
arithmetic as far as the rule of three. — History of Bowdoin, XXXII. 

IV. — South Carolix.\ College, 1804. — For admission to the Freshman Class, a candidate shall 
be able to render from Latin into English, Cornelius Nepos, Sallust, Cjesar's Commentaries, and Virgil's 
^^Ineid ; to make grammatical Latin of the exercises iu Mairs' Introduction ; to translate into English 
any passage from the Evangelist St. John, in the Greek Testament ; to give a grannnatical analysis of 


the wurils, and have a general knowledge of the Knglish Grammar ; write a good, legible haiul, spell 
correctly, and be well acquainted with Arithmetic as far as includes the Rule of Proportion. ~ History 
of South Carolina College, by I.aborde, p. 19. 

V. — Dakimmith Cou.KGi., iSii.— 1. N'irgil; 2. Cicero's Select Orations; 3. Greek Testament; 
.). Translate Knglish into Latin ; 5. lMm<lamental rules of Arithmetic. — Dartmouth College, by Smith, p. 83. 

It would seem that the main point in the entrance examination to llarxard University 
in the seventeenth century was to secure such facilit\- in tiic l.alin tongue that one could use 
it as the instrument for pursuing higher studies. One should be able to read any classical 
author and also be able to speak the Latin tongue. Some knowledge of (ircck also was re- 
quired even from the beginning. IVinceton, a hundred jears later than Harvard, makes the 
same requirements in Latin and insists on a little more in Greek. Half a century later still, 
Howdoin, South Carolina antl Dartmouth colleges liavc practically the same requirements for 
admission as Princeton in 1748. 


Some of the earliest courses of sludv in American colleges show the prominence of the 
studies i)f the Tri^'ium anil the Ouadri\ium insisted on in the Middle Ages. In Harvard, for in- 
stance, in 1642 there were logic, algebra and grammar, besides the study of natural philosophy. 
Assuming that the course of study as given is complete, it is interesting to note that in this 
college Latin is supposed to have been completed before entering, and that the student takes up 
both Greek and Hebrew in his first year. This inference, however, may not be accurate. If 
the students were of the same age on entrance lo college in 1642 as in 1897, it could be said 
that their studies in Freshman year were so difficult that one would hardly e.xpect more than 
a verba! memorizing of the text. It is noticeable that mathematics begins to be studied in 
the third }ear and that arithmetic, geograpliy and astronomy make their appearance at that 
time, the ihird and last \'ear. Some branches of natural science and history belong also to 
this third year. Yale in 1702 required a strong course in Latin and Hebrew. And in 1726 
it seems that Harvard had included Latin with its languages to be studied in college. One 
hundred years later South Carolina College had a course of study very much like that laid 
down at the present day. Rut Dartmouth at that time had arithmetic rather than algebra or 
geometry in its I-"reshman year and continued it even into the Sophomore year. 


Harvard UxiVERsm', 1642. — /"/m Vear.—i. Logick ; 2. Physicks; 3. Disputes; 4. Greek — 
Etymologic and syntax; grammar; 5. Hebrew — Grammar; Bible; 6. Rhetoric. 

Sfconii Year. — i. Ethics and politics; 2. Disputes; 3. Greek — Prosodia and dialects; Poesy, 
Nonnus, Duport ; 4. Hebrew, etc. ; Chaldee ; Ezra and Daniel: 5. Rhetoric. 

Third Year. — i. Arithmetic; Geometry; .Astronomy; 2. Greek — Theory, style, composition, imita- 
tion epitome, both in prose and verse ; 3. Hebrew, &c. ; Syriak ; Trostius New Testament ; 4. Rhe- 
toric ; 5. History; 6. Nature of plants. — Peirce's History of Harvard, Appendi.x, 6, 7. 


Yale, 1702. — i. Latin; five or six orations of Cicero; five or six books of Virgil ; Talking College 
Latin; 2. Greek; Reading a portion of New Testament; 3. Hebrew; Psalter; 4. Some instruction in 
mathematics and surveying; 5. Physics (Pierson) ; 6. Logic (Ramus). — Vale Book, 25. 

Harvard University, 1726. — While the students are Freshmen, they commonly recite the Gram- 
mars, and with them a recitation in TuUy, Virgil, and the Greek Testament, on Mondays, Tuesdays, 
Wednesdays, and Thursdays, in the morning and forenoon ; on Friday morning Dugard's or Farnaby's 
Rhetoric, and on Saturday morning the Greek Testament ; and, towards the latter end of the year, they 
dispute on Ramus's Definitions, Mondays and Tuesdays in the forenoon. 

The Sophomores recite Burgersdicius's Logic, ami a manuscript called New Logic, in the mornings 
and forenoons ; and towards the latter end of the year Heereboord's Meletemata, and dispute Mondays 
and Tuesdays in the forenoon, continuing also to recite the classic authors, with Logic and Natural 
Philosophy ; on Saturday mornings they recite Wollebius's Divinity. 

The Junior Sophisters recite Heereboord's Meletemata, Mr. Morton's Physics, More's Ethics, 
Geography, Metaphysics, in the mornings and forenoons ; WoUebius on Saturday morning ; and dispute 
Mondays and Tuesdays in the forenoons. 

The Senior Sophisters, besides Arithmetic, recite Allsted's Geometry, Gassendus's Astronomy, in tlie 
morning ; go over the .Arts towards the latter end of the year, .Ames's Medulla on Saturdays, and dispute 
once a week. — History of Harvard University, by Quincy, p. 441. 

South Carolina College, 1804. — The studies of the Freshman year shall be the Greek Testament, 
Xenophon's Cyropedia, Mairs' Introduction, Virgil, Cicero's Orations, Roman .\ntiquities, .Arithmetic, 
English Grammar, and Sherridan's Lectures on Elocution. A part of every day's Latin lesson shall be 
written in a fair hand, with an English translation, and correctly spelled. 

The studies of the Sophomore year shall be Homer's Iliad, Horace, Vulgar, and Decimal Fractions, 
with the extraction of Roots, Geography, Watts' Logic, Blairs' Lectures, Algebra, the French Language, 
and Roman .Antiquities. 

The studies of the Junior year shall be Elements of Criticism, Geometry, Theoretical and Practi- 
cal, .Astronom)', Natural and Moral Philosophy, French, Longinus de Sublimitate, and Cicero de Oratore. 

The studies of the Senior year shall be Millots' Elements of History, Demosthenes' Select Orations, 
and such parts of Locke's Essay as shall be prescribetl bv the Faculty. The Seniors, also, shall review 
such parts of the studies of the preceding year, and perform such exercises in the higher branches of 
the Mathematics, as the Faculty may direct. 

From the time of their admission into College, the students shall be exercised in composition and 
public speaking, for which purpose such a number as the Faculty shall direct shall daily, in rotation, 
deliver orations in the College Hall. There shall also be public exhibitions, and competition in speaking, 
and other exercises, held at such times and under such regulations as the Faculty shall require ; and every 
member of the Senior Class shall, at least once each month, deliver an oration of his own composition, 
after submitting it to be perused and corrected by the President. — History of South Carolina College, 
by Laborde, p. 19. 

Dartmouth College, 181 i. — Freshman Class: i. Latin and Greek Classics; 2. .Arithmetic; 

3. English Grammar ; 4. Rhetoric. 

Sophomore Class : i. Latin and Greek Classics; 2. Logic; 3. Geography; 4. .Arithmetic; 5. Geome- 
try: 6. Trigonometry ; 7. .Algebra ; 8. Conic Sections ; 9. Surveying; 10. Belles-lettres ; 1 1. Criticism. 
Junior Class: i. Latin and Greek Classics; 2. Geometry; 3. Natural and Moral Philosophy, 

4. .Astronomy. 

Senior Class: i. Metaphysics; 2. Theology; 3. Natural and Political Law. 

— Dartmouth College, by Smith, pp. &^, 84. 




But what is notcwortli)- in rc^'ard to the course of study for the higher education is the 
place occupied by the classic languages, Latin and Greek. Inasmuch as these are dead 
languages and not useful for oral communication in any part of the world, it would naturally 
be thought that a knowledge of them would have little practical \alue. Further, when we 
learn that the great works in these languages are all accessible in the various modern tongues 
of luirope, there would seem to be no excuse for retaining them in the course of study 
for higher education. One would adopt the word of Mr. Adams and call them " college 

In the Middle Ages, it is true, the Latin was the language of learning and was the 
only language u.sed at an institution of higher education. Moreover all learned people wrote 
their books in Latin. It was a matter of necessity that a student in higher education .should 
begin his course of study by learning to read, si)cak and w rite the Latin ; but this condition 
e.xists no longer, ver)' few books are now written in Latin and few colleges or universities 
conduct their class exercises in Latin. 

Notwithstanding all this it remains a fact that the higher education of all modern civilized 
nations has dexotcd the lion's share in the course of stud\ to the master)- of the Latin and Greek 
languages. The few persons who attain national and international reputation for directive 
power in various departments come from the small quota of society that studies these 
dead languages. Out of a million of persons who have come from our colleges and 
universities more than two lunulrcd times as nian\- persons attain distinction as from a 
million of people who have not entered them. The presumption therefore must be in 
favor of the study of these classic languages. It is therefore probable that they contain 
some educative element not to be found in other languages, ancient or modern, — it is 
likely in fact that the study of these languages gives to the student some peculiar insight 
into himself or his civilization. Looking at it from this point of view we discover the 
cause of the ])otcncy of these languages in higher education. For it occurs at once to 
any one acquainted with the history of the world that Rome and Greece hold an altogether 
unique relation to the civilization of ICurope. 

The dead languages Latin and Greek are the tongues once spoken by the two peoples who 
originated the two threads united in our modern civilization. The study of Greek puts one 
into the atmosphere of art, literature and science in which the people of Athens lived. It 
is not merely the effect of Greek literature; it is the effect of the language itself, in 
its idioms and grammatical structure, for these are adapted to express the literary and 
artistic point of view of the mind. The Greek mind looks upon nature and seizes its 
spiritual meaning; it expresses this in the art forms of sculpture, architecture and poetry. 


It is not an accidental frame of mind out of a great number of possible mental attitudes 
held by that people, but it is the supreme form, the highest potence, of the Greek mind. 
Whenever it comes to its flower it blossoms into art and poetry; if it is arrested in lower 
stages, as in Sparta or Thebes, still it manifests an aesthetic individualism, a sort of ger- 
minal form of the art-consciousness. For all Greeks celebrated the games and strove to 
attain gracefulness and beauty of body. Moreover the science and philosophy of the Greeks 
are merely a sequel to their art and literature. This will appear from a consideration of the 
chief trait of the Greek mind, namely the genius for portrayal. 

The human mind in its attitude of artist is able to seize and portray an object by a few 
lines; it can neglect the thousands of other lines or traits, which do not count because 
they do not individualize, and it can select out with felicit}' just the lines which por- 
tray character. The Greek can do this both in sculpture and in poetry. It is clear 
that this ability to seize the characteristics of an object is a power that needs only 
a little modification to produce the scientific mind. For science also disco\-ers the essen- 
tial characteristics and unites scattered indi\'iduals into species and genera. For it is the 
classifying intellect. 

More than this, the ethical intellect is simply a further de\'eloped poetic intellect. For 
the poet has a unital world-view. Homer, Sophocles and .^iischylus are able to describe 
the infinite multiplicity of human personages and events, unifying them by an ethical world- 
view. Carry this ethical world-view over into prosaic reflection and we have philosophy. 
Philosophy discovers how the fragmentary things and events of the world should be pieced 
together in order to form a whole. It discovers how they can be made consistent as 
explained by the ethical principle of the world. Both their genesis and their ultimate 
purpose are contained in the world-principle. 

That this zesthetic, philosophic and scientific principle should be indigenous in the 
Greek mind and that it should be manifested not only in the prose, scientific and philo- 
sophic literature of the Greeks, and more especiall)- in their poetic literature and in their 
sculpture and architecture, should be a reason for giving a unique place to the study of the 
Greek language in higher education. But the case becomes still stronger when one sees 
that the language is itself a primary and immediate expression of the idiosyncrasy of the 
Greek mind. No one could study the grammar of the language and become acquainted 
with the words in its vocabulary without inducing upon his mental acti\'ity some of the 
proclivities and tendencies of that beaut\'-loving people. 

So on the other hand the study of Latin puts the mind in a similar manner into the 
stern, self-sacrificing, political atmosphere of Rome. The Romans invented laws for the 
protection of life and property and also the forms of social combination known as corpora- 
tions and city governments. To stud}- Latin makes the pupil more attentive to the side 


of his civilization that deals with combinations of men into social organizations. It makes 
him conscious of this institution-forming instinct which has been inherited from Rome and 
exists now as an unconscious proclivity in all the races that enter modern cisilization. 

The raw material of our civilization, our national stocks, Celtic, Teutonic, Norse, Gothic, 
Scythian. Slavic, or whatever we call them, enter into civilization only by adopting the forms 
of art and literature, science and philosophy, borrowed directly or indirectly from the Greeks, 
and assuming forms of government and codes of laws (civil and criminal) borrowed directly 

or indirectly from Rome. 

To know one's self has two meanings, the Socratic and the Sophistic. According to the 
Sophist, to know one's self is to know one's individual idiosyncrasies; it is to know one's 
whims and caprices. But according to Socrates, to know one's self is to know the substan- 
tial elements of our human personality. It is to know ethical principles and see them as 
necessities of human nature, uniting individuals into institutions or social wholes. For by 
moral principles alone are social institutions, such as the family, the state, the church, and 
the industrial community, able to exist. The logical principles which form the structure of 
mental activity, these as well as the ethical structure of conscience have to be known if 
man would know his deeper self in a Socratic .sense. The study of the classic languages 
is therefore a sort of revelation of our deeper selves, the self which forms our civiliza- I 
tion and which gives rhythm to our social life. i 

But the study of the classics does not give one a world-view about which he can dis- 
course in simple and plain language to uncultured persons. The initiated cannot explain ^ 
the mysteries to the uninitiated. Higher education with its Greek and Latin is a process of 
initiation which enables the individual to enter into this kind of self-knowledge. He comes, 
only through this, to know his deeper social self, the institutional self-hood of his civilization. 

If this \iew, which I have here traced in outline with some difficult}', is the true one, it 
will explain wh_\' it is that Latin and Greek (and no other language, ancient or modern) have 
so prominent a place in higher education, and w h\- higher education has been and is so potent 
in preparing the iiu!i\idual for the office of social leader and director of his fellow-men. 

At the risk of manj- repetitions I venture to expand this thought with the (perhaps 
vain) hope of making it clear. 



Modern civilization is derivative; resting upon the ancient Roman civilization on the one 
hand, and upon the Greek civilization on the other. All European civilization borrows from 
these X^\■o sources. To the Greek we owe the elementary standards of aesthetic art and 
literature. They have transmitted to us the so-called perfect forms. All culture, all taste, 


bases itself upon familiarity with Greek models. More than this, the flesh and blood of litera- 
ture, the means of its expression, the vehicles in which elevated sentiment and ideal convictions 
are conveyed, largely consist of trope and metaphor derived from Greek mythology. 

Before science and the forms of reflection existed, the first method of seizing and 
expressing spiritual facts consisted of poetic metaphor and personification. Images of sense 
were taken in a double meaning; a material and a spiritual meaning in inseparable union. 
Not only Anglo-Saxons but all European nations, even the ancient Romans, are indebted to 
Greek genius for this elementary form of seizing and expressing the subtle, invisible activi- 
ties of our common spiritual self-hood. One can never be at home in the realm of litera- 
ture without an acquaintance with this original production of the Greek people. 

More than this, the Greek people, essentially a theoretically inclined race, advanced 
themselves historically from this poetic personification of nature towards a more definite, 
abstract seizing of the same in scientific forms. And hence with the Greek race philosophy 
and science are also indigenous. The Greek language is specially adapted to the function 
of expressing theoretical reflections, and in the time of the historical culmination of the 
Greek race, appeared the philosophical thinkers, who classified and formulated the great 
divisions of the two worlds, man and nature. 

All subsequent science among European peoples has followed in the wake of Greek 
science; availing itself of Greek insight, and using the very technical designations invented 
by the Greek mind for the e.xpression of those insights. This may be realized by looking 
over the works of Aristotle and taking note of the technical terms and the names of sci- 
ences derived from him. 

The theoretical survey of the world in its two phases of development, cTESthetical or 
literar\-, and reflective or scientific, is therefore Greek in its genesis ; and a clear conscious- 
ness of the details and of the entire scope of that side of our activity, requires the use of 
the elementary facts — the primitive points of view that belong to the genesis or history of 
the development of this theoretical sur\'ey ; just as a biological science explains the 
later forms as metamorphoses of the earlier. A knowledge of Greek life and literature is a 
knowledge of the embr\-onic forms of this great and important factor (the philosoph\- and 
poetry) in modern civilization. 

The Roman contribution to modern civilization is widely different from that of the 
Greeks. Instead of aesthetic or theoretic contemplation, the Roman chooses the forms of 
activit}' of the will for his field of view. He has formulated the rules of civil activity in 
his code of laws. He has seen the mode and manner in which man must limit his prac- 
tical activity in order to be free. He must act in such a manner as to reinforce his 
fellow-men and not lame or paralyze their efforts, and thereby also destroy the products of 
his own acti\'it}' by cutting himself off from the help of his neighbors. 


Let each one act sn that his deed will not be self-destructive if adopted by all men. 
This is the Kantian formula for free moral activity. Man is placed in this world as a race, and 
is not complete as a single individual, llach individual is a fragment of the race, and his solu- 
tion of the problem of life is to be found in a jiroper combination with his fellow-men, so as 
to avail himself of their help, theoretical and practical. Theoretically they will help by giving 
him the results of their experience in life; of their pains and pleasures; of their mistakes and 
successes; of the theoretical inventory which tht\ have taken of the world in its infinite details; 
and of the principles the}- have discovered as the units which reduce those details to a system. 
Without this combination with his fellows he remains an outcast, a mere rudimentary possibility 
of man. 

How important, then, is this invention of the civil forms which make possible this combina- 
tion and co-operation ! Other people, before the Romans or contemporar>- with them, may lay 
claim to this invention of the civil code, l^ut their claims cannot be su.stained. Moral and 
ethical forms, in sufficienc)-, they ha\ e ; but the ci\ il form which gives and secures to the indi- 
vidual the circle wherein he shall e.xercise supremely his free will, and bc\ond the limits of which 
he shall submerge his individuality utterly in that of the State — the supreme civil institution — 
such a civil form elaborated into a complete code of w ritten laws, we do not find elsewhere. 

It is, moreo\er, a settled fact in histor\- that modern nations have received their jurispru- 
dence from the Roman peoples, modif)ing the same, more or less, to accommodate it to the 
developed spirit of the Christian religion. It is essential for a correct view of this subject to 
consider carefully the nature of the forms of expression which must be used in order to define 
the limits of the free will. The code which expresses such limits must deal with prohibitions 
onl_\\ in so far as it defines crime. Hut it must furnish positive forms in which all agreements 
and contracts are to be defined. The full exercise of free-will within the sphere allotted to the 
individual is accomplished onlv by means of the institution of property. The complete idea 
of property renders necessary the possibility of its alienation, or transference to others. Con- 
tract is the form in which two or more wills combine, constituting a higher will. The Roman 
law furnishes the varied forms in which this higher will, essentially a corporate will, is realized. 
This is the most important contribution of Rome to the civilization of the world. So important 
is contract to the Roman mind, that, it deifies soulless abstractions in which it sees incorporated 
civil powers. Its Jupiter, Mars, Juno, Venus, each personifies Rome. The word rcligio (bind- 
ing obligation) et)mologically expresses the highest spiritual relation as conceived by the 
Roman. He makes a vow, proposes a contract to his gods, and the gift of the god being 
obtained he will faithfully fulfil his vow. 

The Roman people possess, as individuals, a sort of double consciousness, as it were a 
consciousness of two selves, a private and a public self: first, the self as supremel}- free within 
the circle of what it owns as its personal property, its " dominium ; " second, the self as utterly 



submerged in a higher will, that of the State, beyond its personal limit. All modern civilization, 
rooting as it does in that of Rome which had conquered the world, receives as its heritage this 
double consciousness, and can never lapse back into the naive, childish consciousness of pre- 
Roman civilization. Just as the technical terms and expressions, the very categories in which 
literary and art forms or philosophical and scientific forms are possible, are derived from a Greek 
source, so too, on the other hand, these most important civil forms of contract, corporation, and 
criminal definition, are borrowed from Rome, and were originally expressed in Latin words, and 
Latin derivatives in most of the European languages still name and define these distinctions. 
Seventy-fi\e per cent of the words of the English language are of Latin origin, those expressing 
refinements of thought and emotion, and deliberate acts of the will. As soon as one begins 
to be cultured he requires the Latin part of the English vocabulary to express himself. 

To study Latin, just the mere language and its grammar, is to study the revelation of this 
Roman spirit in its most intimate and characteristic form. Language is the clothing of the 
invisible spiritual self of the people, a revelation of its primary attitude towards the universe. 
A study of the politics, history, religion and law-making of the Roman people is a still further 
initiation into the mysteries of this phase of modern civilization, but not so effective as the 
immediate influence of the language itself 

Comparative philology' and sociology owe to us the dut\' of investigating the Greek and Latin 
languages with a view to discover (what must certainly exist) a grammatical and logical adapta- 
tion of those languages not onh' to express the fundamental point of view of those peoples, 
the one theoretical and the other practical, but to explain also how those languages stimulate 
b\- their reaction upon the minds of those using them, the original theoretical or practical 
tendenc}- of the people who spoke them. The modern \outh, b\' common consent in all 
civilized countries, is trained upon Latin and Greek as special discipline studies. Little or no 
mention is made of the rationale of this process, to the pupil. \'er}- little is done to point out 
the relation between the facts seen through the Roman world-view and the facts which surround 
him. Nevertheless these ancient facts concern in one way or another the genesis of the 
modern facts, and the experience of life subsequent to school goes to the constructing of 
bridges of relation from the one fact to the other. 

Merely by thinking the modern facts through the colored spectra of the ancient facts, 
the classically educated man is able to decompose the compound rays united in the modern. 
All unconscious that the classical material of his education performs the function of a decom- 
posing prism, or that the ancient facts are embryonic stages of the modern facts, the student 
finds that he has a superior power of analysis and generalization, that he is able to divide his 
complex life and to fix his attention upon a single strand of modern civilization, its political 
and legal forms, or its theoretical or ssthetical forms. He, by this, learns how to direct the 
same practically. This ability is a real possession of the highest practical value, but he may 

VOL. I. — 2 


not ha\c any true thcon- of its existence or of its origin. He nia\- even call the source of his 
talent " a college fetich." 

It is this subtlest and least observed, or most rarely formulated expression of the spirit of the 
Greek and Roman peoples, namely, their impression upon the grammatical forms and categorical 
terms of their languages, that exercises the surest and most powerful effect on the classical student. 

One may say that of a hundred bo>-s, fifty of whom had studied Latin for six months and 
fifty of whom had not studied Latin at all, the fifty with the smattering of Latin would possess 
some slight impulse towards analyzing the legal and political view of human life, and surpass 
the other fift\- in this direction. Placed on the distant fnmtiir, with the task of building a new 
civilization, the fift_\- with the smattering of Latin would furnish most of the law-makers and 
political rulers, legislators and builders of the State. 

In the same way a slight smattering of Greek through the subtle effect of the vocabulary 
and forms of grammar would gi\'e some slight impulse not otherwise obtained towards theo- 
retical or a.'sthctical contemplation of the world. On the highest mountain ridge a pebble 
thrown into a rill may divide the tiny stream so that one portion of it shall descend a water- 
shed and finally reach the Pacific Ocean while the other portion following its course shall 
reach the Atlantic. It requires onl)^ a small impulse to direct the attention of the immature 
mind of jouth in any given direction. A direction once given, the subsequent activity of the 
mind follows it as the line of least resistance, and it soon becomes a great power, or even what 
we may call a faculty. Certainl}- it will follow that the bus)'ing of the mind of }'outh with one 
form or phase of Roman life will give it some impulse towards directing its view to laws and 
institutions or the forms of the will, and that the occupation with the Greek language and life 
will communicate an impulse towards literary and philosophical views of the world. 

The specialist in snakes and turtles would not deserve the title of profound naturalist, if he 
had happened to neglect entirely the stud\' of the embryology of these reptiles. A knowledge 
that takes in a vast treasury of facts, but knows not the relation of those facts so as to bring 
them into systems of genesis and exolution does not deserve to be called profound. It is 
replete with information, doubtless, but not with the most valuable part, even, of information. 

It cannot be too carefully noticed that one fact differs from another in its educative value, 
and that a knowledge of German or French is not a knowledge of a language which belongs to 
the embryology of English-speaking peoples, and hence is not educative in that particular 
respect, although it ma\- be educative in man\- other ways. The revelation of man to himself 
is certain to be found in the histor\- of the race. lie who will comprehend literature and art 
and philosophy must study their evolution b\' peoples with whom they are or were indigenous. 

The study of Latin and Greek therefore prepares the mind of the European or American 
to recognize and comprehend the most important element in his cixilization. What these 
studies do for human nature, mathematics does for physical nature. The mathematics studied 


in college enable him to comprehend quantity as it exists in time and space. All material exist- 
ence in time and space is subject to mathematical laws. These laws can be discovered in advance 
of experience. The stud\- of geometry, trigonometry, the calculus, and mechanics, in our col- 
leges furnishes the mind of the student with a number of powerful tools of thought with which he 
can subdue nature. 


A comparison of the methods of instruction and the course of stud}- in the three grades 
of school, elementary, secondary and higher, will show us more clearly in what the special 
advantages of higher education consist. The child enters the elementary school when he is 
of proper age to learn how to read. He has not \-et acquired an experience of life sufficient 
for him to understand very much of human nature. He has a quick grasp of isolated things 
and events, but he has very small power of s^-nthesis. He cannot combine things and events 
in his little mind so as to perceive processes and principles and laws, — in short, he has little 
insight into the trend of human events or into logical conclusions which follow from convic- 
tions and principles. This is the characteristic of primary or elementar)^ instruction, that 
it must take the world of human learning in fragments and fail to see the intercommunication 
of things. The education in high schools and academies, which we call secondary education, 
begins to correct this inadequacy of elementar)' education; it begins to stud\- processes; it 
begins to see how things and events are produced ; it begins to stud\- causes and productive 
forces. But secondary education fails, in a marked manner, to arri\e at any complete and 
final standard for human conduct, or at an\' insight into a principle that can ser\-e as a stand- 
ard of measure. It is the glory of higher education that it la_\-s chief stress on the compara- 
tive method of study ; that it makes philosophy its leading discipline ; that it gi\-es an ethical 
bent to all its branches of study. Higher education seeks as its goal the unity of human 
learning. Each branch can be thoroughly understood only in the light of all other branches. 
The best definition of science is, that it is the presentation of facts in such a .system that 
each fact throws light upon all the others and is in turn illuminated b_\- all the others. 

The \'outh of proper age to enter upon higher education has alread)' experienced much 
of human life, and has arrived at the point where he begins to feel the necessity for a regu- 
lative and guiding principle of his own, with which he may decide the endless questions that 
press themselves upon him for settlement. Taking the youth at this moment, when the 
appetite for principles is beginning to develop, the college gives him the benefit of the ex- 
perience of the race. It shows him the \erdict of the earliest and latest great thinkers on 
the trend of world historw It gathers into one focus the results of the vast labors m 
natural science, in histor>-, in sociology, in philology, and political science in modern times. 

The person who has had merely an elemcntar\- schooling has laid stress on the mechan- 
ical means of culture, — the arts of reading, writing, computing, and the like. He has 


trained his mind for the acquirement of isolated details. But he has not been disciplined 
in comparative stud\-. 1 le has not learned liow to compare each fact with other facts, nor how- 
to compare each science with other sciences. He has never inquired, What is the trend of 
this science? He has never inquired, What is the les.son of all human learning as regards the 
conduct of life? We should say that he has never learned the difference between knowl- 
edge and wisdom, or what is better, the method of converting knowledge into wisdom. 1 he 
college has for its function the teaching of this great lesson, — how to convert knowledge 
into wisdom, how to discern the bearing of all departments of knowledge upon each. 

It is evident that the indi\idual who has received onl\' an elemeiitar\- education is at a 
great disadvantage as compared with the person who has received a higher education in the 
college or uni\ersit_\-, making all allowance for imperfections in existing institutions. 'I he 
individual is prone to mo\'e on in the same ilirection, and in the same channel, which he 
has taken under the guidance of his teacher. Very few persons change their methods after 
leaving school. It requires something like a cataclysm to produce a change in method. All 
of the influences of the universitj-, its distinguished professors, its ages of reputation, the or- 
ganization of the students and professors as a whole, these and like influences, combined w ith 
the isolation of the pupil from the strong tie of family and polite society, are able to effect 
this change in method when they work upon the mind of a >outh for three or four )'ears. 

The graduate of the college or university is, as a general thing, in possession of a new- 
method of stu<ly .uid thinking. His attitude is a conii)arative one. Perhaps he does not 
carry this far enough to make it \ital ; ])erhaps he does not readjust all that he has before 
learned by this new method ; but, placing him side by side with the graduate of the common 
school, we see readil>- the difference in types of educated niintl. The mind trained according to 
elementarj- method is surprised and captivated by superficial combinations. It has no power 
of resist.-mce against shallow critical views. It is swept away by specious arguments for re- sd 
form, and it must be admitted that these agitators are the better minds, rather than the ^ 
weaker ones, which elementary education sends forth. The duller minds do not e\-en go so 
far as to be interested in reforms, or to take a critical attitude toward what exists. 

The duller, commonplace intellect follows use and wont, and does not question the 
established order. The commonplace intellect has no adaptability, no power of readjustment 
in view of new circumstances. The disuse of hand labor and the adoption of machine labor, 
for instance, finds the common laborer unable to substitute brain labor for hand kibor, and 
it leaves him in the jiath of poverty, wending his way to the almshouse. 

The so-called self-educated man, of whom we are so proud in America, is quite often 
one who has never advanced far beyond these elementary methods. He has been warped 
out of his orbit b)- some shallow critical idea, which is not born of a comparison of each de- 
partment of human learning with all departments. He is necessarily one-sided and defective 


in his training. He has often made a great accumulation of isolated scraps of information. 
His memory pouch is precociously developed. In German literature such a man is called a 
• Philistine." He lays undue stress on some insignificant phase of human affairs. He advocates 
with great vigor the importance of some local centre, some partial human interest, as the great 
centre of all human life. He is like an astronomer who opposes the heliocentric theory, and 
advocates the claims of some planet, or some satellite, as the centre of the solar system. 

There is a conspicuous lack of knowledge of the history of the development of social 
institutions in man_\- of the revolutionary theories urged upon the public. The individual 
has not learned the slow development of the ideas of private property in Roman histor)', 
and he does not see the real function of property in land. Again, he does not know the 
history of the development of human society. He has not studied the place of the \'illage 
communit)' and its form of socialism in the long road which the State has travelled in order 
to arri\e at freedom for the individual. 

The self-educated man, full of the trend which the elementary school has given him, 
comes perhaps into the dircctorsliip over the entire education of a State. He signalizes 
liis career b>- attacking the stutl\- of the classic languages, the study of logic and philosophy, 
the study of literature and the humanities. It is to be expected of him that he will prefer the 
dead results of education to an investigation of the total process of the evolution of human cul- 
ture. The traditional course of stud\' in the college takes the indi\-idual back to the Latin 
and Greek languages in order to gi\e him a survey of the origins of his art and literature 
and science and jurisprudence. In the study of Greece and Rome he finds the embryology 
of modern civilization, and devolops in his mind a power of discrimination in regard to 
elements which enter the concrete life of the present age. It is not to be expected that 
the commonplace mind, which is armed and equipped only with the methods of elemen- 
tary instruction, shall understand the importance of seeing every institution, every custom, 
every statute in the light of its evolution. 

In this series of volumes which contain studies on universities, colleges and higher 
institutions of learning in the United States, with special attention to the biographies of 
the Sons of these institutions, ample opportunity will be afforded to in\-esligate this great ques- 
tion of the nature and influence of the course of study adopted in our higher education. 
Only in the careers of graduates of a college may one trace with clearness the influence of its 
teachings. These volumes will do more than any other instrumcntalit)- to demonstrate what 
the higher education of this countr\- has done to give shape to its business, its politics and 
its literature, and to show ht)w it has furnished the directi\-e power of the nation. 

Washington, D. C, Sei^t. 22, 1S97. 




kx-pkesidi;nt uk howdoin college 

CORRESPONDING with the desire of the human mind for knowledge, either to give 
it enlarged consciousness of its capacities or enlarged scope of positive power, is the 
impulse to preserve its acquisitions and communicate them to other minds. This 
disposition has been manifest in the institutions which have marked the flourishing epochs of 
nations and the ascendency of great minds. In the earlier times of history of which there are 
records, — these very records in fact being examples of this tendency, — some nation has 
appeared to ha\-e an acknowledged eminence above others in this regard, more than commen- 
surate with its relative extent or physical power. This would betoken the exercise and enjoy- 
ment of a master)' more than the merel}' material. But this supremac}- has not held its place 
and power. It seems to have passed from time to time from nation to nation, until in more 
modern times communication has been more free, and the human sj'mpathies and rivalries 
stronger, so that knowledge has been more quickl}' and more c\-enlv- diffused. 

Perhaps it would be impossible to trace in determinate lines a vital relation between the 
great schools and centers of learning w hich ha\e illustrated the prominent ages and places in 
the progress of civilization. Still there has been a certain continuit}' in the history of educa- 
tional institutions, either by inheritance, or adoption, or imitation. All along the dim horizon 
of histor}- the lights of learning are reflected on the clouds, a brooding token of moving yet 
continuous life. The torch of knowledge passing from people to people and from shore to 
shore, might seem to the casual observer to ha\e but a broken and fitful course, \-et when these 
points of radiance are joinct! b}- closer attention and deeper intelligence, they disclose the 
pathway of a persistent motion, in cur\-es not wanting in grace or significance, and a sequence 
suggestive at least of continuit}- of influence, if not of the more intimate relations of cause and 


In the earl_\- civilization of the p:ast, the libraries were the centers of learning. They were 
also s}-mbols of political power, or of national glorj-. Their prestige was such that although 
sometimes made objects of the vengeance of contending dynasties and races, they were oftener 



borne awiu- as spoils and trophies of war, or served as royal gifts between friendly powers. 
We are astonished to read of the \ast libraries which adorned the splendid ci\'ilizations of 
Babylon and Assyria, in that long period from the time of Sargon of Akkad 3800 >-cars 
before Christ, to that of Sardanapalus more than thirt\- centuries later. In ancient l".g)pt tlu- 
temples were scats of learning and literary activity ; the sacred books gathered in them con- 
necting human things with the divine with so liberal a scope that they have been called " an 
encyclop.edia of religion and science." Here too the great kings signalized their niagniticcncc 
b\- the collection of treasures of literature and science and art in libraries and museums, which 
became schools of learning and culture. The libnir}- of Ramcses I, in the fourteenth century 
before Christ, showed the scope of its purpose in the inscription it bore over its gates, " 1 he 
Dispensary of the Soul." In the times uf the Ptolemies the library at Alexandria was one 
of the wonders of the world. This was a working school as well, where with breadth of 
vision as well as of scholarship, manj- choice works of old l^gvptiaii or Hebrew lore were trans- 
lated into the Greek language. 


The Greek in turn ga\e to the Arabian. We can scarcely help associating the Academy 
and Lyceum where Plato and Aristotle held their delighted followers in familiar though deep 
discourse, with those centers and circles of learning which from the eighth century marked the 
course of Saracen domination on three continents, with the declared purpose of enabling and 
attracting its subjects to share the treasures of philosoph\- and science then the jiatrimony and 
the glory of the Greek language. Whether this mo\enient was in response to a clearly indi- 
cated intellectual demand of the Arabian mind, or as it is most probable, a measure of good 
government and regard ior the general welfare, — not without some aspiration for glor}', — on 
the part of those memorable caliphs Ilaroun Al-Raschid and his son Al-RIamoun, it must be 
confessed that this impulse had reached a remarkable height when, — if we may believe the 
Moslem records of those times. — the latter of these ambitious spirits offered to the Emperor 
at Constantinople, with whom he and his predecessors had been waging fierce wars, a treaty 
of perpetual peace and a payment of five tons of gold, for the sersices of the philosopher Leo, 
if he would impart to him the mysteries of knowledge then in the keeping of the Greek. 

Whatever may have been the exact truth in this instance, a brilliant fame remains to the 
Saracen in such great schools as those at Bagdad and Bokhara and tlieir offshoots; in the rich 
libraries in these places and at Cairo, and the restored librar\- at Alexandria, rivalling that of 
Ptolemy, in which in turn were preserved in translations into .Arabic man)- valuable works 
whose originals have been lost in the wa\e and fire of war, or through the discouragement and 
degeneracy of the peoples in their ancient home; in the schools also which followed its con- 
quests in Europe, — first in Sicily, reacting on the shores of Italy to quicken the impulse 


towards classic learning scarcely then reviving there, and finally in Cordova in Spain, which 
became a powerful attraction and example for all Europe. 

Thus the spirit of learning, having passed down the eastern end of the Mediterranean and 
illumined the shores of Asia and Africa for a season, while Europe lay under a shadow which 
has given to that period the penitential name of " the dark ages," now returned again by the 
western end of that sea, in something like an ecliptic path. Having made that circuit and 
passed on that torch, the Saracen genius, overborne by the dark power of the Turk, relapsed 
into shadow not even yet lifted, while a new day was dawning on Europe in the " revival of 
learning " led by Petrarch and Boccaccio, and broadening into the " renaissance " of all the 
arts, even that of recovering the ancient liberties of Rome, as was attempted by the high-soulcd 
but ill-fated Rienzi and Bussolari. 

Whether this wavering path of the light and dark ages is by force of some " natural law in 
the spiritual world," or perchance by a force acting in the converse of this order, — the natural 
being but the manifestation of the spiritual, — a certain autonomic will, akin to instinct, domi- 
nating amidst the seeming play of the vibrations of human motive and circumstance which 
covers the linking of the iron chain of hidden cause and effect, — we cannot fail to discern 
beneath all the successions of phases and transitions, dissolution and reconstitution, a certain 
transmitted influence, or high, transcendent ruling, which determines the persistent ongoing 
and identity of human life. Nothing seems to be lost to man ; we live from all the past, and 
for all the future. 

And there may be in this course of learning a closer continuity than that of influence and 
stimulus. The very words we employ to mark the rise of modern conceptions of methods of 
study in the arts and sciences, in history and literature, — " revival " and " renaissance," — 
imply something like a resurrection — a continuity, but also newness, of life. The vital germs 
planted long before, held in darkness and inert, and seeming lost, were only slumbering until 
the times were ripe for taking on the new life. Humble means were sometimes working out 
greater ends. It was for no momentary satisfaction that those recluse scholars in the ancient 
libraries busied themselves in translating precious works otherwise lost. It was not without 
some forecast that treasures of ancient lore were guarded in the seclusion and sanctity of 
cathedral and monastery, while the clergy and monks were forbidden or unable to read them. 
Truly the cloisters held some rare and chosen spirits, touched with higher lights than those by 
which they went their daily round. 


When the schools of the Roman Empire were swept away before the flood of Barbarian 
invasion, their places were taken b_\' the cathedral and monastic schools. The conquerors 
thought it good policy to respect the Church, which held the prestige of a divine authority. 


But the old Roman schools, after which the new schools patterned, devoted chiefly to the study 
of grammar and rhetoric, thus preserving the fame and influence of the Greek and Roman 
masters, opened also to a literature full of the praises of heathen gods, and the recitals of 
heathen mythology; and hence these studies did not find much favor with the Church author- 
ities, and were not pursued far. Still this buried life was preserved and carried over. Out of 
it rose mighty institutions. 

Thus the little school of Salerno, kept alive by peculiar monastic care, when touclicd 
by the genial influences of the Saracens on the neighboring shores of Sicily in the ninth 
century, rose rapidly into a vigorous medical school and university. Bologna also, a great 
law school at the beginning of the twelfth century, and a university of world-wide fame 
within the two centuries following, is said to have taken its rise under the fostering hand 
of Theodosius II, in the fifth century, and recognized by Charlemagne three hundred years 
later, to have been finally " established " by Irncrius three centuries later still. So too, 
there are positive and lasting results of that characteristic measure of the broad-minded 
Charlemagne, when he invited to his court at Aix-la-Chapelle the English scholar, y\lcuin, 
the most accomplished man of his time. In the school he set up in his palace, this great 
master of men made himself and all his family pupils of Alcuin, who doubtless imparted 
to them what they were able to receive of his learning, antl iiuickened their spirits for 
greater things. I-"rom this example, and the force of edicts from time to time issued by 
him requiring that candidates for orders in the church should be well instructed in all 
the knowledge then available, and that they should no longer be admitted from a servile 
class, but be sons of freemen, with a counter-balancing provision that gratuitous instruction 
should be given to the children of the lait)' in all schools, a mighty impulse was given to 
the character, the honor and the extension of education, through all his \ast empire. One 
[)arlicular result appears in the school which grew up to become the renowned University of 
I'aris. This, in turn, became prototype of many others, among which we may no doubt 
count the University of O.xford, and afterwards of Cambridge. 

But here again appears a thread which indicates the continuous working of purposes 
and eftorts, although in long obscurity and slow of result. It is not improbable that the 
first seeds of the higher learning were sown at Oxford b)- the illustrious Alfred, and it is 
well established that a school of arts, as then understood, existed there in the time of 
Edward the Confessor, in about the year 1050. And to the influence of these universities 
we know how much our early educational institutions in America are indebted. 

Thus, even when the close connection of steps cannot be traced, we can see from the hifdi 
ground of the present that all the jiaths of the past, small or great, direct or circuitous, lead into 
our own ; and that we are made sharers of the knowledge, as well as of the spirit and im]nilse, 
which have quickened and strengthened other minds wide and far away in place and time. 



The mediaeval schools, following the traditions of the Roman, had for their type and 
measure a curriculum then supposed to comprehend the arts and sciences, the former divi- 
sion of which was the " trivium," regarded as elementary, consisting of grammar, rhetoric and 
logic; and the latter " quadrivium," embracing arithmetic, geometry, music and astronomy. 
The first of these divisions represented what we call in our day, language and literature. 
In the second group, the subjects classed as sciences seem to have been treated chiefly 
in an abstract manner, as mental concepts more than positive knowledge, which now deter- 
mines what we regard as the peculiar field of science. These, indeed, had been treated only 
in the most elementary and superficial manner. Even astronomy, the earliest of the sci- 
ences, passing from Chaldea through Egypt to the Greeks, had, after the grand guesses at 
truth by Pythagoras, been suffered to fall into neglect, scared)' broken by the discoveries 
of Hipparchus and Ptolemy, until revived by the Arabians in the eighth century, and 
received no adequate attention until the advent of Copernicus nearly seven centuries 


The advance in the spirit as well as in the subjects of learning which marked the 
twelfth and thirteenth centuries, demanded great extension and indeed complete transfor- 
mation. At about the beginning of the thirteenth century, the whole old curriculum, termed 
the "liberal arts," was gathered under a new general title, — "philosophy," and we find the 
universities starting out with four "faculties," — philosophy, theology, jurisprudence and 
medicine. All these departments now took new depth and scope. 

The sphere of medicine was wide indeed. There was no other science which compre- 
hended any of the branches afterwards embraced in " natural history," including a descrip- 
tion of all the phenomena of the animal, vegetable and mineral \\orld. Under the name of 
" physics," these formed the basis of the science applied in the art of the practitioner of 
medicine, the tradition of which survives among English-speaking peoples in the title 
of " ph}'sician " among the learned professions of the present day. 

It seems not a little strange that Europe owes to a race or order of the Oriental 
mind combining poetic tendencies, almost amounting to the romantic, with an acti\e and 
positive temper, the impulse which led to the wide-spread and eager stud)- of the more 
practical sciences so deep in their reaches and useful in their eftccts, — chemistry, physics 
and medicine, — in the very nomenclature of which lies a lasting recognition of obligation 
to Arabian genius and achievement. 

The studies of theology and law were pursued with such vigor that the\- came to 
dominate the minds of almost all Christendom. The two positive, interpenetrating, almost 
rival powers, — the prestige of the old Roman Empire, and the actual, potent authorit\- of 


the Roman Church, — demanded of their intelligent subjects accurate knowlLiii^e of at least 
their positive edicts. There were thus two branches of the law, — the ci\il and the eccle- 
siastical. We can well understand why the stud\- of the civil law, tracing not only the 
literal, positive precepts of the imperial codes, and their historic origin in the " twelve 
tables," but also the application of the principles of natural equity as applied to the CdU- 
ditions of a growing civilization, comprising thus both the constitution and the law, and 
lying at the very foundation of the social order, should be regarded as of the highest dig- 
nity and importance. We can also understand wh\- the study of thcolog)-, deriving its 
authority from the express sanctions of God himself, and claiming jurisdiction o\er c\ery 
act and facult\- of the human mind, and formally declaretl in the crcuds of the church and 
the edicts of its recognized head, — a power commissioned from the spiritual spheres, ri\al, 
if not arbiter, of human law, — should assert itself as supreme in rank among the studies 
possible to man. Well may it be said that " these slutlies of the ci\il and canon l;uv did 
more during the middle ages than all others put together, to shape and control the opinions 
of mankind." 


In connection with this, one branch of the old " lri\ium," that of logic, now embraced 
under " philosoph\-," received remarkable extension. The habit of limiting this sphere of 
study to the powers of words was not wholly unreasonable nor without profit. I^'or if all 
the meanings and relations of words are followed out, the mind cannot but advance in 
its powers both of definition and of comprehension. But when it comes to deal with 
abstract terms and general concepts, the mind wanders in a world of its own creation. 
Words are names of things; and what are "things"? This speculative application of logic 
was adopted as a method of ascertaining truth; and under the title of "dialectics" became 
the master-science of the middle ages. As it had its chief theatre in the schools, this 
method of reasoning was called " scholasticism." Its imjjortance was in the fact that it 
was applied to the discussion of some of the most momentous doctrines of theology. 
Curiously enough the turning-point of the determination was the reality of the objects 
denoted by abstract terms, and general concepts, sometimes called " universals " as includ- 
ing under them in extension many particulars. The question was whether these terms 
represented real existences in and of themselves, or were only names of concepts — forms 
fashioned in and by the mind, and having no existence outside of it. The adherents of 
the former view were called " realists " ; and those holding to the latter view, " nominalists." 
In these discussions, such writings as those of the Aristotelean logic, and Plato's obscure 
Timaeus, which formed a good part of their scanty philosophical literature, and those of 
St. Augustine on the controverted points of theology, were appealed to as final authorities. 


Rut the necessity of dealing with words which cannot be otherwise than ambiguous 
and the imperfect apprehension of logical and real distinctions, could not fail to carry 
these metaphysical discussions into inextricable confusion. For Plato meant by his 
"idea" not the conception of the mind, but the object to which that conception con- 
formed. And Aristotle seems not clearl>- to have perceived that that distinction between 
matter and form which he makes so important a part of his definitions, represents no actual, 
objective difference in things, but only sets forth the very same things apprehended under 
different modes of thought. 

We may smile at these "quiddities" and " hacceities," but they mark analytical abil- 
ities of a \-ery high order, and great power of sustained thought; and the controversy, 
while engaged upon the finest and most recondite doctrines of theology, involved almost 
every relation below these, from Pontifical authority and ecclesiastical orthodo.xy to pro- 
fessional and personal relations. So that our respect cannot be withheld, and our sur- 
prise is forestalled, — though not our sorrow, — when we learn that noble men like John 
Huss were sent to the stake for opinions ha\ing their ground in the intellectual appre- 
hension of the nature of the entities l\'ing behind general concepts and abstract ideas. 

It ma\- not be eas\' to explain wh_\' so many able men devoted the keenest powers and 
utmost energies for century after century to these discussions, nor why such multitudes of 
young men flocked to the universities from all parts of Europe to listen to them ; but it is 
b\- no means a barren passage of history. While the spirit of an age in which such things 
were possible has passed away, and while perhaps no more positive gains than the exhi- 
bition of the possible permutations of terms and concepts have been added to the solid 
sum of knowledge, yet the enthusiasm resulting in and from these controversies undoubtedly 
led to the wide extension of the interest in learning, and to the founding of many great 
and noble schools the influence of which has enriched all later means and methods of study, 
and in many wa\'s beyond those manifest has a world-wide potency to-day. 


The point of time, or determination, as to the name uni\-ersities is not easy to ascertain. 
We know that the extension of the courses of study .so as to constitute the four faculties was 
denoted b}' the term " studium generale," or " universale." Hence, no doubt, the title " univer- 
versit}-." Rut whether first adopted b\' the heads of institutions upon their wider organization, 
or a current appellation descripti\e of their new departure, or whether the title was first obtained 
b_\- virtue of special acts of recognition of the form or effect of charters conferred as franchises 
by the authorities of Church or State, it ma_\- not be possible or material to determine. It is 
clear that the matter of internal organization was of the first necessity. The great number of 
students resorting to these centers of learning from all quarters of Europe rendered it necessar\' 


to adopt regulations and declarations of rights and powers equivalent in many respects to that 
of a corporation, or almost a body politic. We find at Bologna in the middle of the fourteenth 
century more than thirteen thousand students ; and shortly afterwards at Paris more than thirt>- 
thousand, — a number equal to that of the whole body of resident citizens. The regulation and 
go\ernance of so many aliens must have been matter of no small concern. Under such cir- 
cumstances the students and professors of a common countrj- organized themsehes into societies, 
or student guilds, somewhat after the fashion of the Teutonic guilds of Northern German)-.— 
"confederations of aliens on a foreign soil," each following its own peculiar customs, and adopt- 
ing its own laws and regulations. Thus within these great schools were three or four distinct 
bodies, or " nations," as they called themselves, which enabled them in some manner to secure 
protection and enjo>-ment of rights which thc\- could not claim as citizens, nor enforce by 
process of local municipal laws. It would be curious if we could trace to this practice and 
custom that somewhat exclusive student-spirit, and that easilj- pro\okcd jealousy between " town 
and gown," and that now baseless and misleading notion that students are not amenable to the 
municipal laws, still lurking in the older American colleges. 


But be\'ond this interior, self-sufficing organization, in notable instances special privileges 
and immunities were granted to students of the great schools b>- the ci\il, political and religious 
authorities. Such an instance is that of the Mmperor Frederick Barbarossa, who, importuned 
no doubt by the crowds of students at Bologna in the year 1155 complaining of the oppression 
of the landlords in whose houses they were domiciled, won high favor by conferring upon them 
substantial privileges, which were afterwards embodied in the " Ctirpus Juris Ci\ilis" of the 
Kmpire. In similar manner the University of Paris, besides its interior organization of " nations," 
received from the Pope not only authority for the joint feculties to " regulate and modif\' the 
entire constitution of the university," but also the privileges of sending a representative to the 
Papal Court, which conferred upon it rights as a corporate body before the courts of justice. 
In Kngland, Oxford, which began its practical organization in the endowment of " halls " and 
"houses" for the maintenance of scholars, was referred to as a university in a document of 
King John in the \-ear 1201 ; and a royal charter was soon after granted, which established its 
rights as a public institution under the patronage and protection of the State. In the next 
centur>- it is formally recognized by the see of Rome as an authorized place of public instruc- 
tion, in the category of Paris, Bologna and Salamanca ; and various regulations are laid down 
respecting the professors and graduates of these institutions. 

Following the precedent perhaps of Paris in its representation at the Papal Court, England 
in 1603 granted to her universities the right of representation by membership in the House 
of Commons, and in that capacity, by a remarkable extension of political privilege, participation 


in the legislation and government of the nation and empire. The great prestige of the univer- 
sities is also attested in the fact that they ranked among the powers of Church and State. 
The University of Paris was an arbiter bet\veen these. Philip the Fair invoked its aid when 
refusing the claim of Pope Boniface that by the ordinance of God all kings, including the King 
of France, owed complete obedience to the Pope, not only in religious affairs but in secular and 
human as well. And Charles the Wise, justly estimating the glory it had shed upon his throne, 
declared it to be the eldest daughter of the kings of France, and gave it precedence at court 
immediately after princes of the blood. In the great "schism of the West" it was under its 
ad\ice that the French church formally withdrew itself from the dominion and authority of the 
Pontiff. And in the famous Council of Constance called to determine questions of utmost 
moment, its chancellor, John Gerson, was ambassador of the king, and wielding the prestige 
of the uni\ersity with masterl_\- diplomacy and dignit)' became the recognized oracle of the 
Council. Remarkable authority seems to have been accorded to O.xford, when in the turmoil 
over the Divine Right of Kings in the last years of Charles II, the universit\- published a decree 
asserting the dut\- of passive obedience, and condemning the works of John Milton and others, 
demonstrating to the contrary, to be publicly burned. 


F"rom these examples of the rise and character of the uni\ersities of Europe, we pass to 
the institutions of higher learning in the New \\'orld which have been more or less directl\- 
influenced b_\- them. In South America they followed mostly the pattern of those of Spain. 
Whatever reproaches may be laid against the Jesuits, it cannot be denied that in their early 
wide-spread missions they did good service in the cause of education. It was by their efforts, 
conducted with self-denial, zeal, tact and patience, exercised among the people as well as 
towards the political authorities, that schools of learning in South America followed so closely 
the Spanish conquests. Through these efforts arose the University of San Marcos in Lima, 
Peru, which received the royal confirmation of Charles V in 1551. Next, in 1353, appears that 
of San Paulo near Bahia, Brazil, which as a source of knowledge and of civilization, was a power 
beyond any other in the history of that countr\-. Nearly at the same time arose the University 
of Santiago de Chile, under the protection of \'aldivia, the successful general of Pizarro, and 
in Mexico a university founded b\- the Jesuits, largely an ecclesiastical institution after the 
model of Salamanca and the Sorbonne, which maintained its place and character until on the 
separation of Church and State in 1S57 it was dissolved, and its foundations distributed among 
special schools of all the arts and sciences, more suited to the needs of the times. In the 
pro\ince of La Plate, -- formerl\- embraced in the \ice-royalty of Buenos A\-res, and now a State 
in the Argentine Republic, — by struggles trul\- heroic the Jesuits founded in 161 1 the College of 
San Francisco Xavier at Cordova, which eleven years afterwards recognized as the University 

VOL. 1. — 3 


of Cordova, began a famous career as the center of Jesuit missions and the most powerful scat 
of . learning on the continent. The course of study here was typical of the class. At first the 
old medi.-Eval curriculum was followed, based on the Latin language. The highei courses were 
the scholastic philosophy and theology. By degrees the faculties of medicine and of jurispru- 
dence were added. At length, in comparatively recent times, under the i)opular demand for 
" more practical and useful knowledge than that which makes priests, nuns, and pettifogging 
lawyers" — so their protest and petition ran, — the faculties of mathematics and the physical 
sciences in all their branches and applications, took an imjiortant place in the constitution ot 
the university. However, the early prominence given in the university to the study of the 
civil law has had its later fruits in the proficiency in the political sciences attained in these 
countries. In general public law, and especially in international law, statesmen and jurisconsults 
of South America rank with the ablest modern masters. 


In Canada the celebrated Laval de Montmorency founded in 1663 the Catholic Seminar)' 
of Quebec, and after many vicissitudes of experience he made over all his property to this 
institution, where he exercised a powerful influence over the civil as well as the ecclesiastical 
affairs of that important province of the French Crown. This was raised into a university in 
1854, perpetuating his name; and still holds vital relations to the educational system of the 
Province. King's College in W'insor, Nova Scotia, has the singular prestige of owing its 
origin to distinguished " loyalists " from the United States, who took refuge there after the 
Revolution. The rigor of its theological requirements led to the establishment of Dalhousie 
College at Halifax in 1821. Among modern institutions of the highest class are McGill Univer- 
sity in Montreal, founded in 1825, and the University of Toronto, founded as King's College in 
1827, with "university privileges," since realized in its reorganization in 1849, on the model 
of the University of London. Other important institutions have affiliated themselves with this. 
These universities hold a very high rank among the directive influences of the Dominion. 


Hut it is the universities of the United States which chiefly engage our interest. The 
blessings of education were prominent objects before the eyes of the founders of these 
colonies. The same feeling which in all early history appears to associate closely educa- 
tion and religion, had remarkable manifestation in this country. And there is a special 
reason for this in the wonderful development of religious and civil liberty hand in hand, which 
characterized the first century of Colonial history. The deep experiences of Prostestant 
Christians in England. France and the Netherlands had awakened a resolution not to be 
repressed. Instinct, observation, conscience, understanding, reason, faith, — nay, memorj-, 


hope, and far-cherislicd ideals, — conspired to impel the colonists at the very first, to es- 
tablish schools of learning adapted to the new situation^but natiirall)' holding to some tradi- 
tions of those of the old world to which thcv, and the cause of liberty so dear to them, 
owed so much. / Many of ri;em were graduates of old Cambridge in England, which in 
the profound revolt agains^^absolutism Ijad become a stronghold of Puritanism. The spirit of 
the Baconian philosophy had not more transformed the subjects and methods of study, than 
had the open Bible revealing the worth of the indixidual soul transfused men's minds with the 
spirit of freedom. All our early colleges were grounded on religious principles, and inspired 
by religious purpose. | Harvard, founded in 1636, was dedicated to Christ and the Church, 
and was especialh' designed to prepare young men fur the ministry. Yale, following in 
1700, with deep religious motives in its origin, as in its development, was entrustetl to 
the guidance of Congregationalist ministers. 

Xor was it onl\- Puritans and Independents who held fast to the religious element in 
higher education. The College of William and Mary in \'irginia, founded in 1692, had 
for one of its chief objects to provide suitable instruction for such as intended to take 
orders in the Established Church. The College of New Jersey also, though embracing 
many religious sects and the traditions of several nationalities, declared its purpose to 
be the intellectual and religious instruction of j-outh, and especially the thorough training 
of candidates for the holy ministry.. And the Academy at Philadelphia, which in 1751 grew 
into the Universit}' of Pennsylvania, was founded b)^ the sons of William Penn, who though 
a graduate of Oxford, became a stout defender and almost martyr of the cause of spiritual 
liberty, and the sons no doubt were actuated b\- that high teaching and example. Columbia 
too, though not perhaps the lineal descendant of the Dutch classical school which fol- 
lowed close upon the first steps of colonization under the auspices of the Reformed Church of 
the Netherlands, — which, it is worth}" of remark, holds its unbroken line from 1643 unto 
these times, — owes much to this influence and example. At the capitulation in 1673, 
the English recognized the religious allegiance of the Dutch schools, and desiring a simi- 
lar one of their own in 1754 founded "King's College," patronized by all Protestant denom- 
inations and by the Goxernment of t^ngland. Rising with new life after the Revolution as 
" Columbia," it bore upon its seal mingled emblems of instruction and religious faith and 
doctrine, and legends in Hebrew, Greek and Latin under the mj-stic symbol of the Holy 
Trinity, with the testimony — both pledge and prayer, — " In Th>- Light shall we see light." 

The influence of these schools of learning who can doubt. — who can measure? 
Edmund Burke in his speech for the conciliation of the Colonies bears this testimony: 
"Another circumstance which contributes towards the growth and efifect of this intract- 
able spirit; — I mean their education. In no country in the world is the law so general 
a studv. All who read, — and most do read, — obtain some smattering in that science. 


This study makes men ;iciitc, inquisitive, dexterous, prompt in attaci<, ready in defence, 
full of resources. In other countries the people, more simple, judge of an ill principle 
in government only by an actual grievance; here, they judge of the pressure of the 
grievance by the badness of the principle." The libraries and teachings of the colleges 
kept the fountain full. Writes 'I'homas llollis of England, one of Harvard's earliest bene- 
factors: "More books, especially on government, are going for New England. Should 
these go safe, no principal books on that fust subject will be wanting in Harvard College 
from the days of Moses to these times. Men of New England, use them, for }-ourselves, 
and for others ; and God bless you ! " 

President Stiles of Vale — himself a noble patriot — gives testimony: "The Colleges 
have been of singular advantage in the present day. When Britain withdrew all her 
wisdom from America, this Revolution found above two thousand in New England onl)-, 
who had been educated in the Colonies, intermingled with the people, and comnnuiicating 
knowledge among them." Well may we understand this when we see at their head such 
men as the Adamses, the P>owdoins, the Otises, the Quincies, Ames, Gerry, King, Par- 
sons, for Harvard; the Livingstons, Silas Deane, Oliver Walcott, Wooster, Morris, Sedg- 
wick, W'atlsworth, Johnson, Hall, Baldwin, Ingersol and Nathan Hale for \'ale, — the Dj'ers 
and Trumbulls and W'yllvses dividing their patronage between these two; Madison, John 
Dickinson, Ellsworth, Luther Martin, Reeve, Rush, Henry Lee for Princeton; Ja_\-, Hamil- 
ton and Gouvcrneur Morris, Troup, Rutgers, Lispenard, Richard Harrison, Egbert Benson, 
Moore, Cruger and Stevens for Columbia ; Hopkinson, Mifflin, Morgan, General Dickinson, 
Tilghman, and the Cadwalladers, and we might add Ni.Kon, McKean and Robert Morris, 
for Pennsylvania; Jefferson, Monroe, Peyton and Edmund Randolph, Harrison, Wythe for 
William and Mar>'. 

.And how man\- others as worth)' to be named, not participating directl}- in the forma- 
tion or exposition of the new government, — preachers and ministers of the Gospel, 
teachers in the colleges, academics and schools, writers for the press, orators at town meet- 
ings, — did these colleges furnish for the country's need and honor! 

Some of the leading minds of the Revolutionary times had been educated in the mother 
country. Especially was this the habit in the Southern Colonies. Of these were the 
Pinckncys, the Laurcnses, the Rutledges, of South Carolina; the Lees and John Wilson, of 
Virginia, as also the Winthrops of Massachusetts. 

^L^ny too were what is styled, in distinction from college graduates, " self-made men," 
but perhaps still largely indebted to the influence of the college. Our patriots were not 
without education. The)- found a way or made it. Patrick Hcnr}' was privateK- educated 
by his father, a man of liberal education in the Old World, and ambitious for his son. 
John Marshall, though not a college graduate, recei\ed a classical education. So too, Elias 


Boudinot. Henry Knox was a good scholar. Winthrop Sargent, Ethan Allen and Israel 
rutnain in one \va>-, and Roger Sherman and John Mason in another, made their part in 
great e\'ents their means of education. George Washington had the whole country for his 
university. Benjamin Franklin was a unixersit)- in himself. 

There can be no doubt that the old classical colleges w'ere well fitted to bring out 
rhe best powers of mind and character, — to build up a well-rounded manhood. This 
was not b}- the multitude of studies ; it was by their character, and that of the noble 
men directing them. No student could fairly enter into fields then laid open without 
wakening in the mind a sense of its possibilities, and enforcing a certain discipline 
which gives the self-reliance and strength characteristic of manliness. 

The Greek language opened the long \ista of the aspiration for freedom. The 
Greek genius was spiritual. It saw the soul of things, and sought to embodv it, in science 
as in art. Blending in its conception, as almost in its words, the ideas of the beautiful 
and the good, it set on wing those powers of the imagination \\-hich conceive and construct 
according to high and noble ideals. Loving the sunshine, }-et with deep ethical instinct, 
it dealt with the profoundest mysteries of human life and dcstinj-. W'e read to-day with 
stirring sympathy the tragedies of human will and fate wrought out in the soul of its great 

The Latin breathed the spirit of law. Its genius was essentially virile. It carried 
the impressive sense of strength, through order and obedience. It set forth in bodily form 
the relation of the individual and the State, which to the Greek was an endless problem 
or elusive image. Through restraint of will and regulation of power, it won the mastery of 
the world. 

Mathematics touched the harmonies of the uni\erse. It stirred the sublimest conceptions. 
The culture that came through it trained the power of sustained attention and connected 
thought, and formed the mind to habits of both vigor and rigor of reasoning. 

The religious instruction, underl\-ing all and reaching beyond all, revealed the dignity 
and destin}- of the human soul, and its place under the moral government of the world. 
Its sacred teachings corrected the low moral tone of the classic literature. This gave to 
culture a balance where knowledge was sweetened b\- reverence, and at the same time 
quickened to power for noble achievement. 

Out of such influences, earnestly administered and seriousl)- cherished, we can well 
conceixe what character of manhood would be wrought, and b\- this can understand the 
great examples of it which appeared in our earl)' histor\\ 

And not onl\- for those that shared these pri\-ileges \\as the college an instrument of 
discipline and culture. The mere existence of such an institution in the midst of a 
communitv has an educating power. It is a monument of achievement and monitor of 


possibility. Kvcn those who arc not participant of its inner life are impressed b\- the 
familiar vision of an a^'cncy of power for good reserved and ready, and b\- tiiat mys- 
terious influence of presence wliich does not wholly reveal its source or its goal, but is 
one of the most effective appointed means of moving the human mind 


On these lines the old colleges of the L'nited States have built themselves up accord- i 
ing to their means and their guiding spirit, for some two centuries. Those which sprung ' 
up in all the States after the Revolution under the fresh impulse of the people were j 
largelx- shaped b>- these. And of later times there is no more significant characteristic 
than the disposition of persons who have acquired wealth to establish great anil gener- 
ously planned schools of higher learning, conceived aiul constructed after the same gen- 
eral ideals. Such modifications as have taken place have been in answer to the spirit 
of the times, or the advancement of science, or the ideas anil purposes of liic noble 
men who have established and guided them. 

Regarding the ])resent aspect and tendency of our colleges it is manifest that the 
religious clement in them has somewhat changed, in expression if not in character, from 
the type of former times. The spirit and method of the study of the sciences .so 
largely prevailing, — especially the requirement of positive verification by experimental 
tests conclusive alike upon all minds, — has undoubtedly affected the habit of thought 
and feeling towards matters depending upon spiritual evidence, and tended to diminish 
respect for authority, even in religion. The spirit of freedom, too, has taken a new depart- 
ure. I'>om revolt against absolutism it has extended to revolt against dogmatism. There 
is dogmatism everywhere, in science as in religion. Where truth is believed to be ascer- 
tained, it is to be maintained. But this reaction presses especially against religion, — or 
rather, against that form of it which is maintained by the church, — and not so much against 
the revelation and authority of spiritual truth in the individual soul. 

So both these influences combine at present to work against the simple faith and 
habitual reverence of the times of old. The lack of reverence is undoubtedly a serious 
loss. For the holding of something sacred, and the recognition of relations to a moral, 
spiritual superior, are necessary to the best exercise of all the faculties of our nature. 
And surely the colleges, aiming to bring out the complete manhood, should not suffer 
themselves to be in default in these things. But it does not appear, even in these days 
of swift-moving and all-engrossing materialistic civilization, that the Christian spirit is set 
at naught or held in slight esteem. On the contrary it is interpreted more largely and 
applied more closely. Every reformer proclaims that he is seeking to appl)- the prin- 
ciples of the Christ. And the sense of individual responsibility which is enforced by all 




study of human life and action will tend to counteract the vague submission to relentless 
" natural law," which is so repressive of the noblest aspirations of the mind. Wc cannot 
but perceive that Christianity is about entering on a new epoch of demonstration in the 
larger life of man. And the colleges under the guidance of noble minds conscious of their 
trust, will be held Io\al to their ancient consecration, ministering to that true culture which 
is expressed in highest character, and recognizing the followers of Christ as the true church 
and his spirit manifested in the life of humanity as the true religion. 

Closely related to this is the growing interest taken by all our institutions of learning 
in the political and economic sciences. It is an important part of a school of liberal educa- 
tion to fit young men for their duties as citizens. This function reaches verj' wide. Ques- 
tions of government, of industry, of commerce, of finance, — questions arising from the 
manifold relations of our complex ci\ilization, and pressing upon us for action, require 
intelligent, independent judgment on the part of citizens. And in the stress of the coming 
times, the great schools of the country should be fountains of knowledge and influence for 
right understanding and far-looking motives on these vital questions. 

It is evidence of real advance in the " enfranchisement of humanity," and testimony to 
the practical effect of Christian principles, that the obligation is recognized of providing 
adequate instrumentalities for the higher education of women. There is no reason in nature, 
or in any revelation, why the mind of woman should not be admitted to the presence of 
highest truth, and why she should not be enabled to make full use of those delicate, 
spiritual powers, — the quick insight and almost divination of the true, the beautiful and 
the good, — which are a needful part of the directive forces of life, and for which it may 
be regarded a special provision of nature that in these attributes her endowments sur- 
pass those of men. 

In connection with this, we are reminded to say that if there is a lack in the 
balance and completeness of the courses of higher instruction now offered, it is in the 
culture of the imagination. Opening the sense and the soul to the perception of beaut)' 
not only trains the mind in good taste and correct judgment of art, but also leads to the 
comprehension of great and perfect works. The imagination is a true constructive power. 
It forms conceptions of the ideals of truth, beauty, fitness and proportion without which 
mere knowledge of facts and niceness of analytical skill will be weight instead of wings in 
rising to complete master}- in an\- of the great arts of expression. This maj' not be so 
apparent in mere imitations of nature, or in technical and industrial drawings, — which, 
however, ha\e their commercial value, — but it is a part of highest culture to draw the 
mind to the perception and comprehension of the beauty and power manifest in the uni- 
verse, and in the works of human genius, which are also revelations of God. 

The marked characteristic of present tendencies is the great amplification of studies 


in the natural sciences. The wonderful advance in biulog\-, chemistry and molecular 
physics, and the opening of new fields of interest and activity by reason of these dis- 
coveries and their practical applications, ha\e created a demand for instruction in these 
departments, which the higher institutions of learning feel called upon to furnish. This 
cannot be adequateh" done except at the expense of a considerable inroad into the old, 
well-balanced " college course," cspecialh- designed to afford a general discipline and 
sjmmetrical culture of all the personal powers. 

An expedient is resorted to by offering in the college course a liberal range of 
clectives. A saving measure is adopted by so arranging these electives that a student 
who still desires the old course, or a moderately-modified new one, can find it b>- fol- 
lowing the proper lines among the so-called " advanced courses." As a provisional meas- 
ure this is, perhaps, the best that can be done. It certainh- has the advantage of allow- 
ing the student to follow his natural inclinations and develoj) his special aptitudes; pos- 
sibly also to gain a \ear or so in getting into his profession, or work in life, towards 
which there is now such hurr\- and rush. 

V>\\\. the professional schools, meantime, are increasing their requirements, and the 
whole college course is none too much to give the elementary knowledge and fitting dis- 
cipline of mind to take up the professional course. The conditions in this country require 
thorough education for its professional men. No narrow or superficial preparation will 
suffice in this da)- for the successful practitioner in law, or medicine, or the ministry, or 
for the peculiar work of the journalist and public teacher. The colleges of the liberal 
arts ought to be strengthened on their own lines, instead of being required to enter 
upon technical or professional instruction. The provisions of electives should not look 
to cutting short the general disciplinary course. Electives — if a personal opinion ma\- 
be here jiermitted — should not be taken between principal departments, but onl\' 
between ])articulars in the same department. Language and logic should not be sur- 
rendered for biolog)', nor modern languages wholK- displace the ancient. Nor should 
modern history, and political and social science and philosoph)- be left at all to elec- 
tion or option, but these should be studied b\- all in the light of practical ethics, in 
the maturer years of the course, so that young men can go out under this preparation 
and impulse to take their part in the direction of life for themselves and the 

Some of the colleges, feeling the necessit}' of preser\'ing the great features of the proper 
college course, have met the imperative demand by creating distinct and separate scientific 
departments, or special schools of science. Schools of Technology are established with more 
complete instruments of instruction. These are admirable in their intention and results; and 
although something of the breadth and symmetry of the college must be missed, such institu- 



tions are the proper means of meeting those who for reasons sufficient to themselves prefer to 
wai\e the discipline of the college course, and nio\e forward at once in the line of their pro- 
fessional work. 

In what has been presented thus far, no distinction has been attempted between the college 
and the university. A sufficient reason for this might be in the fact that in this country, as 
\-et, no characteristic distinction has been maintained. Some of the largest of our old colleges 
are now deeming it just and fitting that the}- should receive the higher title in recognition of 
their increased amplitude of studies or departments ; and in rare instances, they have assumed 
this title in consideration of especial attention to depth, or advance, in study, rather than in 
the breadth of courses. Other recentl)* established institutions, largel)' endowed and generously 
planned, pro\iding for ad\-anced and professional courses as their main object, have naturally, 
and not unjustl}-, taken the name of uni\-ersit}-. But still, there are no sharp or exclusive tests 
b\- which the name shall distinguish the thing. A college may multipl}- its course by di\-iding 
its studies into groups of electives. And an_v institution, b\- appropriate influence, may obtain 
the legal title of uni\ersit}-, without evidence of any large range or profound reach of instruction. 
Perhaps there is no positive recognized test of titles. The universities of Bologna and of Paris 
had ver\- different leading purposes and aims. Although the former was the great law school 
and the latter the great theological school of Europe, \^et Bologna looked almost entirely to 
making itself a professional school, while Paris ne\-er lost sight of its original purpose and 
ideal, which was, by its breadth and balance of training, to afford a liberal culture, suitable for 
the character and station of a gentleman. This was the type of the English universities. So 
it was of our own earl}- colleges. 

But of late our institutions seem to have been found lacking in means for advanced in- 
struction. For some }-ears past no young man looking forward to securing a professorship in 
an\- department of our American colleges would deem his preparation finished until he had 
taken a degree at a German University. Something there may be in fashion about this; for 
in fact, one so minded could find adequate instruction in our own universities, to which we 
should naturally look as the place for the pursuit of advanced study and original research. 

Such an enterprise as the " Chautauqua Assembly " for the promotion of knowledge and 
culture among the people, well entitled to be called a uni\-ersit_\' in the breadth and sweep of 
its work, has the especial merit of meeting the people where the}- are, without requiring con- 
ditions impossible for them to fulfil. And the movements in " University Extension," though 
this is perhaps a misnomer as to the intrinsic character of the work, are deser\-ing of high con- 
sideration as indicating the generous purpose of sending out as widely as possible the educa- 
tional benefits which the\- are capable of conferring. 

But it is evident also that the demand is strong for the intensive as well as the extensive. 
This means in such departments as language, history and philosophy, not onl>- more intimate 


knowledge of what has been said and done and thought, but a deeper insight into the nature 
and relations of man, and the reasons and incentives of his struggles with his environment. In 
the physical sciences it means a nunc positi\e knowledge of the elements and forces of the 
universe, and of their modes of action which we call laws. In the technical aspects of these 
sciences it means the stud\- of man's practical relations to them, and the training of his faculties 
to .skill in the use of them. This is a wide range for choice, but the work once chosen becomes 
a specialty, and is necessaril)' narrow. This field seems to belong U< the uni\ersity and the 
schools of technolog)- ; the former for original research anil deep scholarship, looking to the mas- 
tery of knowledge; the latter for the applications of science, looking to master)- in the material 

Hut the sphere of the college is different from these. It is for that general, liberal culture, 
which looks to the excellence of the man himself, — his intellectual foundations, his intrinsic 
character. Whether in the " classical " or " scientilic " department, an undergraduate course 
should have this aim. l'i>r the organization of our modern higher education we ha\e then 
the college, somewhat conformed to modern tlemands, but ne\er losing sight of its main 
objective; and the uiii\ersit_\', fitteil especially for ad\anceil work or deeper stud_\- on special 
lines. The historic origin, however, is still recognized in the gathering around the unixersity 
of schools of law, medicine and theology, as well as of politics, pedagogy, and the several 
branches of tcchnolog)', to suit the demand of an adxanced and progressive ci\iliz;ition. These 
professional schools mii^ht intleed exist separatel}' and independently of the uni\'crsit_\' and of 
each other, as in fact man\- do; but there is no doubt a gain of power to the student in the 
breadth of environment, and the larger atmosphere, of an institution devoted to the widest 
range of study and deepest grasp of thought in man\- departments of knowledge. 

\\ hether or not the college can be a miniature uiii\ersit,\-, it should at all events be a school 
of complete manhood, taking cognizance not oul>- of what makes ft)r good work in the world, 
but regarding also the culture of the moral and spiritual powers which are the noblest endow- 
ments of personality. Hence it is that in every school of discipline and culture its real worth 
must be measured not merel)- b>- its range of courses, or gauge of studies, but largely by the 
soul which animates it. 



|S[ 11 








The Growth of the Institution 

I. The Collegk i'.nuek the CoLoxy, 1636- 

II. The Provincial Period, 1692-1775. 

111. I'iKST Fruits of Independenxe, 1775-iSio. 

I\'. Emaxcii'ation from Church and State, 

\'. From Colleoe to Univeksitv, 1S65-1897. 

\'I. The Professional Schools: i. Medical; 
2. Law; 3. Divinity; 4. Scientific: 
5. Dental; 6. X'eterinakv. 7. Kad- 
cliffe College. 
\TI. Scientific Estahllshmknts and 
I. .Astronomical Observatory; 2. Mu- 
SEU.M of Comparative Zoology: 3. Pea- 
body Museum ; 4. Semitic .Museum : 
5. Botanic Garden: 6. Bussev Institu- 
tion AND .Arnold .Arboretum: 7. Foct; 
Art Museum. 


The Progress of Education 


I. The First Two Ce.nturies. 

II. Beginnings of the Elective System. 

III. Rfxent Expansion. 

IV. The LuiRARv. 


Student Life 
I. Com.mons. 

II. Prayers. 

111. Dlsi iPLiNE AND Rebellions. 

I\'. Commencement. 

\'. Class Day. 

\T. Dress. 

\I1. College Cuiis and Societies. 


IX. Sports and Gymnastics. 
X. Conclusion. 




The College under the Colony, 1636-1692 

ONLY six years after the founding of Boston, the General Court of the Colony of 
Massachusetts Bay passed, on October 28, 1636, O. S., the following resolution: 
"The Court agree to give Four Hundred Pounds towards a School or College. 
whereof Two Hundred Pounds shall be paid the next j'ear, and Two Hundred 
Pounds when the work is finished, and the next Court to appoint where and what building." 
The munificence of this appropriation can be understood when we remember that the annual 
rates of the Colony did not then exceed £.400. In 1637, tweh-e of the most eminent men 
were appointed " to take order for a college at Newtown ; " among these were W'inthrop, the 
Governor; Shepard, Cotton and Wilson, among the clergy; and Stoughton and Dudley, among 
the laymen. The name of Newtown was soon changed to Cambridge, as a mark of affection 
for the English town at whose university many of the Colonists had been educated. This 
was the official beginning of the College, but little had }"et been done when, in 1638, the 
Reverend John Harvard died, and bequeathed one-half of his property and his entire library 
to the School at Newtown. 

Of John Harvard, who thus became the titular founder of the College, but little is known. 
His mother, Katherine Rogers, was born in Shakespeare's Stratford, where her house still 
stands; she married Robert Harvard, a butcher, and dwelt in Southwark, London, where their 
son John was born. That son was baptized in St. Saviour's Church, November 29, 1607; he 
matriculated at Emanuel College, Cambridge, the favorite resort of Puritans, October 25, 1627; 
took his Bachelor's degree in 163 1, and his Master's degree in 1635; 'i"*^ ''^'^^ the next \'ear 
or early in 1637, having meanwhile married Anne Sadler, he set sail for Massachusetts. He 
settled at Charlestown, where he was admitted a townsman August i, 1637, and was naturalized 
November 2. He seems to have engaged as a minister. He bought a piece of land and built 
him a dwelling near the old meeting-house on Town Hill. On May 26, 1638, he took part in 

NoTK. — In the earlier parts of this sketch I have been of articles by the late Professor Jacquinot in the Kn-uc 

under obligation to Qyimc^'i, Hi sloiy of Harvard University fiitcrnationale dc l' Enseignemmt (Paris, 1SS1-4). Peirce's 

(2 vols., 1840) ; to The Harvard Book (2 vols., 1874) ; to History (i83r) was practically absorbed by Quincy : Eliot's 

College Words and Ci<stoms (1S50) ; and to a valuable series History (189S) is in the main an epitome of Quincy. 




a town meeting " to consider a bod)- of laws " ; and then, on September 24, 1638. he died of 
consumption. His estate, amounting probably to about ^1600. had come to him from his 
mother, who had been thrice married — to Harvard the butcher, to Klletson a cooper, and to 
Vearword a grocer, — and has been wittily called the real alma mater of the College. The old 
Uueen's Head Inn, at Southwark, which she owned and managed, was not demolished until 
1895. Of John Harvard's personality we know little beyond what is implied in his gift to the 


College. One contemporary refers to him as "a godlj- gentleman and a lover of learning"; 
Thomas Shepard says. " This man was a scholar, and pious in his life, and enlarged towards 
the country and the good of it in life and in death." Harvard was buried in Charlestown, and 
in 1828 the alumni of the College erected a monument in the cenieter\' there: but the exact site 
of his grave has long been lost.' 

Besides half of Har\ard's estate, the College recei\ed his library, containing nearlj- 300 
volumes, of works chieflv theological and classical. Out of gratitude for this bequest, the 

' In 1S83 a bronze statue, by P'rencli, was given to the College by S. J. Bridge, and erected in the Delta, west of 
Memorial Hall. 


General Court, in March 1639, bestowed his name on the seminar}-. The cxampic of the 
\oung founder stirred the generosity of the Colonists; the magistrates gave to the library 
books to the value of i;'200; individual gifts of ij20 or ;^30 followed; and persons of smaller 
means, but of equal public spirit, contributed according to their substance. "We read," 
says Pierce, " of a number of sheep bequeathed b\' one man, of a quantity of cotton worth 
nine shillings presented b\' another, of a pewter flagon worth ten shillings by a third, of a 
fruit-dish, a sugar-spoon, a siKer-tipt jug, one great salt, and one small trencher-salt bj- 
others; and of presents or legacies, amounting severally to fi\-e shillings, one pound, two 
pounds, etc." ' 

The choice of Cambridge as the site of the College has had a deep effect upon its character. 
In early times, when access to Boston could be had only through Charlestown and thence b>- 
ferry, or by a roundabout way through Roxbury, the isolation of the College was almost com- 
plete : in our own da\-, when Boston can be reached in twenty minutes from Harvard Square, 
the College has the ad\'antage of being near a large cit}-, while at the same time Cambridge has 
retained many of the desirable features of a universit\- town. 

The first building devoted to the uses of the. " School " was put up by Nathaniel Eaton in 
1637, somewhere between the present Grays and Matthews Halls.^ Eaton enclosed about an 
acre of land with a high paling, set out thirty apple-trees, and, according to Go\-ernor W'inthrop, 
had " many scholars, the sons of gentlemen and others of best note in the country." Nathaniel 
Briscoe, "a gentleman born," assisted Eaton as usher; but the "School" did not long thrive. 
Briscoe complained of having received " two hundred stripes about the head," the scholars 
complained of bad food and harsh treatment, and in September 1639, Eaton was dismissed and 
fined b}' the General Court. Mr. Samuel Shepard was next designated to superintend the 
building and funds, which he did until the arrival in the Colony of the Rev. Henry Dunster, a 
man whose reputation for learning had preceded him, and who was immediately offered the 
position of President of Harvard College. With Dunster's appointment, in 1640, the unbroken 
history of Harvard begins. The following earl\- description of the institution is from a work •' 
published in London in 1643: "The edifice is very fair and comely within and without, having 
in it a spacious hall, where they daily meet at the Commons, Lectures, Exercises, and a large 
library with some books to it, the gifts of di\ers of our friends ; their chambers and studies 
also fitted for and possessed b}- the students, and all other rooms of office necessary and con- 
venient; and by the side of the College a fair Grammar School for the training up of young 
scholars and fitting them for academical learning, that still as they are judged ripe the>- ma\- be 
received into the College." 

Under Dunster, " a learned, conscionable and industrious man," the College prospered so 
rapidly, that, in 1642, it held its first Commencement, and that same year (September 8) the 
General Court passed an "Act Establishing the Overseers of Harvard College." This Act. 
the first relating to the government of the institution, deserves to be quoted, as showing the 
theocratic ideal of the Colonists. It runs as follows: 

" IVheiras, through the good hand of GoA upon us, there is a College founded in Cambridge, in the 
County of Middlesex, called H.arv.\rd College, for the encouragement whereof this Court has given the 
sum of four hundred pounds, and also the revenue of the ferry betwixt Chadestown and Boston, and that 
the well ordering and managing of the said College is of great concernment, — 

' Peirce, History of Harvard University (1S31), 17. 

2 See " The College in Early Days," by A. McF. Davis, Harvard Graduates' Atagazine, i. 367-9. 

* Neiv Endaiid's First Fruits. 


'•It is ilu'rcfore nnk-rd by this Court ami tin- Aiitiiority thereof that the Governor ami Deputy 
Governor for the time bein^, ami all the magistrates of this jurisdiction, together with the teaching eldeis 
of the six next adjoining towns, vi/. : Cambridge, W atertown, Charlestown, llosion, Roxbury and Dor- 
chester, and tile I'resident of the said College for the time being shall, from time to time, have full power 
and authority to make and establish all such orders, statutes and constitutions as they shall see neces- 
sary for the instituting, guiding and furthering of the said College anil the several members thereof, from 
time to time, in i)iety, morality ami learning; as also to dispose, order and manage to the use and 
behoof of the said College and the members thereof all gifts, legacies, bequeaths, revenues, lands and 
<lonations, as either have been, are or shall be conferred, bestowed, or any ways shall fall or come to the 
said College. 

" Aii(/ 7c/i/-n-iis it niav come to pass that many of the said magistrates and elders may be absent, 
or otherwise employed in other weighty affairs, when the said College may need their present help and 
counsel, it is therefore ordered that the greater number of magistrates and elders which shall be present, 
with the President, shall ha\e the power of the whole. Proviiie.f, that if any constitution, order or orders 
by them made shall be found hurtful unto the said College, or the members theieof, or to the weal public, 
then, upon appeal of the party or parties grieved unto the com|)any of Overseers first mentioned, they 
shall repeal the said order or orders, if they shall see cause, at iheir next meeting, or stand accountable 
thereof to the next Cieneral Court." ' 

This Act prnviilcd am])l_\- for tlic tjcneral oversight df the College, allotting that oversight 
to the State, on the one hand, and to the clergy on the other; but it was soon found necessary 
to define more exactly the duties and qualifications of the immediate officers. Accordingly, on 
.May 31, 1650, the " Charter of the President and Fellows of Harvard College, under the Seal of 
the Colony of Massachusetts Hay" was granted. Hy this Charter the C()r[)oration was estab- 
lished, to consist of " a President, five Fellows, and a Treasurer or Jkirsar," to be, in name and 
fact, " one body corporate in law, to all intents and purposes." The Corporation had the 
power to elect persons to fill vacancies in its own body ; to appoint or remove officers or ser- 
vants of the College ; and to administer its finances: but in all cases the concurrence of the 
Overseers was necessary. The General Court further ordered " that all the lands, tenements, 
or hereditaments, houses, or revenues, within this jurisdiction, to the aforesaid President or 
College a])pertaining, not exceeding the value of fi\e himdred pounds j^er annum, shall from 
henceforth be freed from ci\ il impositions, taxes, and rates, all goods to the said Corijoration, 
or to any scholars thereof appertaining, shall be exempted from all manner of toll, customs, and 
excise whatsoever; and that the said President, Fellows, and scholars, together with the servants, 
and other necessary officers to the said President or College appertaining, not exceeding ten, 
\iz.: three to the President and se\en to the College belonging, — shall be exempted from all 
civil offices, military exercises or services, watchings and wardings ; and such of their estates, 
not exceeding one hundred pounds a man, shall be free from all country taxes or rates 
whatsoever, and none others." ' 

\\\ an appendix to the College Charter, imder date of October 14, 1657, a somewhat 
larger liberty was allowed to the Corporation in " carrying on the work of the College, as they 
shall see cause, without dependence upon the consent of the Overseers: provided ahvavs, _ 
that the Corporation shall be responsible unto, and these orders and by-laws shall be \ 
alterable by, the 0\ersecrs, according to their discretion." 

' The first College seal,. idoptecl December 27, 1643, con- was changed to /« C//™// C/(ir/,;«/. .\bout 1694 the motto 
sists of a shield with three open books (presumably IJibles), Christo ./ EcdcsUe was adopted for the border of the seal, I 

on which is the motto Veritas. -Soon afterwards the motto but with the three books and Veritas retained in the centre. ' 



Thus constituted, the Government of the College has existed down to the present day. 
The Corporation may be . regarded as a sort of Senate, which shapes and executes the 
general polic\', and administers the funds of the institution ; the Overseers are a represen- 
tative and consultati\e bod}-, which .ijiprovcs or rejects the acts of the Corporation, and 
deals more directly with the affairs of the students. The Corporation still consists of the 
President and Treasurer ex officio, and of five Fellows, and has authority to fill vacancies 
in its membership ; the composition of the Board of Overseers, on the contrary, has changed, 

as we shall sec. 

and these changes, 
have marked the 
College, first from 
wards from politi- 
Undcr I'resi- 
CoUege grew, in 
He urged the Court 
generously for the 
repair of the build- 
that each family in 
contribute annually 
support of the sem- 
was also made to 
ates from return- 
\cr_\- common prac- 
it was justly ob- 
pixne their parts 
service of the Colo- 
tense theological 
was at last excited 
open opposition to 
fauts; he -was in- 
jur}', convicted b}- 
tcnced to a pub- 
Lecture Da}', and 
bonds for good be- 
stern measures did 
w rath of the Pffido- 

liberation of the 
clerical, and after- 
cal control, 
dent Ihinster the 
spite of difficulties, 
to pro\ide more 
maintenance and 
ings, and suggested 
the Colony should 
one shilling for the 
inar}'. .An attem])t 
discourage gradu- 
ingto England — a 
tice ; the}' ought, 
ser\ed, to " inl- 
and abilities in the 
nics," Rut the in- 
tcmi)er of that age 
against Dunster's 
the ba[)tism of in- 
dicted by the grand 
the Court, sen- 
ile admonition on 
required to gi\e 
havior. Even these 
not appease the 
baptists, and in Oc- 
tober 1654, he was compelled to resign his office. The venerable President pleaded that the 
time was unseasonable — that his wife and \-oungest child were sick and could not be removed 
without danger — that he had exhausted his means in behoof of the College. The General 
Court heard his plea and reluctantl}' allowed him to remain in the President's house until the 
following March, when he rcnmvcd to Scituate, and died soon afterwards. 

His successor was the Rev. Charles Chauncy, formerh' Professor of Greek and Hebrew 
at Trinity College, Cambridge. Having incurred the charge of heresy through his opposi- 
tion to certain Anglican forms, he recanted. Coming to the Colon}-, he declared himself in 
fa\or of total immersion in baptism, and of celebrating the Lord's Supper in the e\'ening — 
doctrines which clashed with l'l}niuuth orthodox}'. But his was a \'ielding character, and 
VOL. I. — 4 





when the IVcsidency of Harvard was offered to liim, he accepted it, on condition of 
'• forbearing to disseminate or publish anything on either of those tenets, and promising not 
to oppose the received tenets therein." He soon complained that the grant allowed b}- the 
General Court for his subsistence was insufficient: "his country pay, in Indian corn," he 
said, " could not be turned into food and clothing without great loss." He seems not to 
have got relief, for again, in 1663, he presented a jjetition, in which he declared that he 
had been brought into debt, and "that the provision for the President was not suitable, 
being without land to keep either a horse or a cow upon, or Iiabitation to be dry or 

warm in ; whereas, 
sities, the President 
well as stipend, and 
proN'isions, accord- 
The Court, in reply, 
countrx' ha\e done 
the petitioner, and 
ICnglish Colleges 
President Chauncj- 
charge, although 
suffering at that 
barrassments inci- 
tiun of the Stuarts 
event which caused 
fear that their lib- 
taken from them, 
affected the pros- 
lege, that, since the 
not come to its 
was indeed black, 
since, private liber- 
wants due to offi- 
loud groans of the 
came to the ears of 
Portsmouth, New 


in English Univer- 
is allowed diet, as 
other necessary 
ing to his wants." 
asserted that " the 
honorably towards 
that his parit\' with 
is not pertinent." 
his personal straits, 
did not desert his 
the College also was 
time from the em- 
dent to the restora- 
in Englanil, — an 
the Colonists to 
erties would be 
This uncertainty so 
perity of the Col- 
Gcneral Court did 
rescue, the outlook 
But then, as so often 
ality supjilied the 
cial neglect. "The 
sinking College " 
the good people of 

Hampshire, ^vho 

pledged themselves to pay ".sixty pounds sterling a year for seven years ensuing (May 1659)." 
Subscriptions were added from all parts of the Colony, and amounted to more than ^2600. In 
1672 a new building was begun, but, so slow was the payment of subscriptions, ten years 
elapsed before the new College could be completed. 

On the death of President Chauncy, Leonard Hoar, a minister and physician and a 
graduate of Harvard, in the Class of 1650, although of English birth, was chosen to suc- 
ceed him (July 1672). He enjoyed a brief popularity, and was then, in 1675, di.smissed 
b_\- the Court "without further hearing." The cause of his dismissal is uncertain: it 
appears that, "some that made a figure" in Cambridge excited the students him, 
and that others, stirred by envy and ambition, encouraged his enemies. The students 
strove "to make him odious," and four members of the Corporation resigned: among them 


was the Rev. Urian Oakes, who, we remark, when importuned to take the i'rcsidency, 
refused, but served with the title of superintendent for four years. Then, being again 
elected President, he accepted, and died after a brief term in 1681. The post was evidently 
shunned, because we find that four persons to whom it was offered, declined it within as 
many years. The Rev. John Rogers served but one year, 1683-84; then, after another 
interregnum, the Rev. Increase Mather was, on June 11, 1685, requested "to take special 
care of the government of the College, and for that end to act as President until a further 
setdement be made." Mather was one of the most conspicuous men in the Colony, and it 
was hoped that his name would strengthen the College : but, although he was sincerely 
interested in its welfare, he was equally interested in the political and religious disputes of 
the Colony, and he refused to reside in Cambridge, except for a few weeks, during all the 
sixteen years of his Presidency. He w-as Pastor of the North Church in Boston, which, he 
said, he would not give up for the sake of " forty or fifty children," and so he used to 
ride to and fro, the charge of shoeing or baiting his horse, or of mending his saddle, 
being defrayed by the College. He was among the persecutors of the witches at Salem, 
and when the book of one Calef condemning this persecution reached Cambridge, it was 
burnt in the College Yard. 


Tfif, Provinxial Perii;>I), 1692-1775 

IN 1692 the English sovereigns, William and Mary, granted a new charter to the Colon\-, and 
Mather used his influence to such purpose, that the General Court gave a new charter to 
the College, whose privileges were considerably increased thereby. Mather at once proceeded 
to rc-organize the Corporation and the afi'airs of the College in the interests of the Cahinist 
sect of which he was the leader, not waiting for the Charter to receive the royal signature. But, 
in 1696, the decisive news came that the King had withheld his consent. There was continual 
difficulty among the President, the Corporation and the Legislature for several jxars; another 
Charter was drafted, so distasteful to Mather in man}* particulars, that he proposed to go again 
to P^ngland and apply to the King in person ; the religious dissensions alread\- rife throughout 
the Colon}- broke out among the Overseers and officers of the College. The struggle, briefly 
stated, was between the old Presbyterians and Congregationalists on one side, and those who 
were both more liberal in their own \'iews, and tolerant of the views of other sects. At last, in 
1 701, Mather was dismissed from the Prcsidcnc}-, on the ground that he had persistentl}- refused 
to live at Cambridge. The Rev. Samuel W'illard, who had previousl)' been appointed \'ice- 
President, served in that capacity until his death, in 1707. He was "quiet, retiring, phlegmatic 
and unpretending; " well-fitted, therefore, to alla_\- the angr\- passions which Mather's excitable 
and resdess character and domineering manner had onl}- exasperated. Thomas and \\ illiam 
Brattle, who had been among Mather's strongest opponents, were reinstated in the Corporation, 
which was thenceforw ard composed of liberals, whereas the old orthodox part\' had the majority 
in the Board "f Overseers. The Charter of 1650 was revived in 1707, largely through the 
efforts of Governor Uudle\-, who, sa\-s Ouinc\', " of all the statesmen who ha\e been instrumental 




was most influential in "ivinc; its constitution 

in promoting the interests of Harvard Colli 
a permanent character." 

This period, dating from 1692, marks the eml of the fnst epoch in the history of the 
Massachusetts Colon\-, and likewise in that of the College. In the government established 
h\- the Puritans, "neither subscription to creed," says Ouinc\-, "nor articles of belief was 
required, nor were they ncccssarv'. The principle that none should be a freeman of the 
State who was not a member of the church, sufficientl}' secured the supremacy of the relig- 
ious opinions of the predominant part)'. The inquisitional power was vested in the church 

But the Charter 
Mary converted 
a province, and, 

and its officers." 
of William ami 
the Colon)' into 
what was all iui- 
propert)', instead 
cnjoyment of civil 
course of sevcnt)' 
had become di\- 
rian shades more 
then, too, immi- 
to the Anglican 
ing over in greater 
at the end of the 
tury, New Eng- 
wore its original 
Puritanism. The 
the old Calvinist 
luted were quick 
royal Charter 
theological quali- 
of property un- 
ocratic constitu- 
and, although they 
prevent this revo- 
thev were for a 


portant, it " made 

of church nieni- 
fication for the 
rights." In tile 
N'ears Puritanism 
ersificd intosecta- 
or less intense; 
grants belonging 
(."lunch were com- 
nunihers : so that, 
se\(, nteiiuh ccn- 
lantl no K)nger 
uniform aspect of 
j),irt_\' \\hich lieUl 
dncti'incs u 11 di- 
ll 1 see that tlie 
which replaced 
fications b_\- those 
dermined the the- 
tion of the State ; 
were not able to 
lution in politics, 
long time success- 

ful in resisting a similar change in the government of the College. It was with this purpose 
that Increase Mather and his son Cotton strove and intrigued, and fomented sectarian ani- 
mosity; it was for this purpose that they attempted to insert a religious test in the Charter 
of the College; and it was owing to the chagrin and alarm felt by the Calvinist sect at their 
failure, that Yale College was founded (1700), to be a true ".school of the prophets," where 
the brimstone doctrines of Calvin should not be quenched by waters of liberalism. At Yale 
a rehgious test was exacted so vigorously, that it closed the iloors of that institution to all 
but simon-pure Calvinists. At Harvard, the Corporation was thenceforth composed of those 
whom we maj- call, for lack of a better word, liberals, while the majority in the Board of 
Overseers was Calvinist: the struggle between them was long, and often \er\- bitter, and 
produced a deadlock, so that one party could not push the College forward, nor the other 



drag it back. Through the decisive action of Governor Dudley, the Legislature passed, in 
1707, that vote which re-cstabhshed the College Charter of 1650; and although, in so doing, 
Dudley plainly overstepped his powers, it cannot be denied that he greatly benefited the 
College. The re-validated Charter never received the royal sanction, why, we are not told • 
nor was it objected to b\' the Crown ; and it has remained in force, with some changes in 
the clauses relating to the qualifications of Overseers, down to the present day. 

We may pause here for a moment to survey the material growth of the College during 
its first seventy years. From the Colony it had recei\ed in grants sums amounting to about 
£6--)0 sterling, and ;{^3720 in currency. It enjoyed also exemption from taxation on property 
to the amount of 
earnings of the 
Charlestown antl 

it received a grant 
land; in 1653, 
1682, " Merrico- 
Ba\', with 1000 
but the last two 
obtained. During 
the donations 
sources amounted 
sterling, an d 
currenc}". To 
be added several 
of books. The 
onl}' from the Col- 
benefactors in 
from other lands, 
record, for in- 
1658 the inhabi- 
place, supposetl 
Bahama Islands, 
erty," gave £\2a, 
1642 some gentle- 
dam gave i^49 


i^500, and the 
ferry between 
Boston. In 1657 
of 500 acres of 
2000 acres, and in 
neag, in Casco 
acres adjoining," 
grants were nc\er 
the same period 
from private 
to ^9302 25. \\\d. 
;^6748 195. 6(/. in 
these sums must 
thousand volumes 
gifts came not 
onists and from 
England, but also 
It is pleasant to 
stance, that in 
tants of a certain 
to be Eleutheria, 
" out of their pov- 
sterling; and in 
men of Anister- 
" and something 

more toward furnishing of a printing-press with letters." This printing-press, the first that 
was operated in what is now the United States, was brought from England in 1638 by 
Joseph Glover. Glo\-er died on the vov'age over, but his widow settled in Cambridge. 
where the press was set up and worked by Stephen Daye.' President Dunster married 
Mrs. Glo\er, and had charge of the press, which was run in the President's house until 1655. 
The first publication was "The Freeman's Oath," followed by an almanac, a Psalm-Book, 
a Catechism, and the " Liberties and Laws of the Colon}-." In 1658 John Eliot's Indian 
translation of the Bible was printed here. 

Among the other noteworthy bequests were that of Edward Hopkins, of ;^500 (1657) ; that 
of William Pennoyer, of ^680 (1670) ; and that of Sir Matthew Holworthy, of ;^IOOO (1681). 

1 Stephen Daye's press occupied what is now the southwesterly corner of Dunster Street and Harvard Square. 


The first school builclnig was crcctctl, as has been stated, b,\- ICaton in 1637. President 
Dunster built a dweliin-i fi>r himself, which was known as the President's House. In 1682 
a now hall — the first Harvard Hall — was dedicated, the cost of wliich was met b}- public 
subscriptions. Finally, in 1699, Governor Stoughton built at his own expense (;^1CX)0) a 
hall, which bore his name, and which stood a few rods to the west of the ])rcscnt site of 
University Hall. 

Thus it will be seen that even in the early life of the College it owed more to piivatc bene- 
factors than to the liberality of the Stale — a sure proof that its importance was recognized by 
the communit}-, and an omen that b_\-and-by it would grow so strong that it could dispense with 
all official support whatsoexer. But wiiile its prosperity at the end of the sexenteenth centur\- 
was far greater than Winthrop or Dunster could have foreseen, the College was still hampircd 
in its means, as the following extract will show : " At a meeting of the Corporation, April S, 
1695, foA-i/, That .six leather chairs be forthwith provided for the use of the Library, and six 
more before the Commencement, in case the treasiu-v will allow of it." 

In 1707, on the death of Willard, the Rc\-. John Le\erett was elected President. He hail 
the backing of Governor Dudley, upon whom the Mathers, rankling at the defeat of their fac- 
tion, heaped scandalous accusations. According to them, he was guilty of covetousness, Ijing, 
hj'pocrisy, treachery, bribery. Sabbath-breaking, robber\- and murder; and the\- expressed 
" sad fears concerning his soul," and besought that " in the methods of i)ict}- he would recon- 
cile himself to Heaven, and secure his happiness in this world and the world to come." The 
Go\ernor, however, declined to purchase eternal saU'ation by humiliating himself before the 
Mathers, and these able but repulsive fanatics failed to get control of the College, but did 
not cease to foment discord. 

Leserett was an energetic administrator, seconded bj' Thomas Brattle, the Treasurer, and 
b\- William Brattle, Ebenezer Pemberton and Henry Flj-nt, his coadjutors in the Corporation. 
The financial condition of the College was improved, but the quarrels between the Fellows and 
the Overseers did notecase. In 171 8 the President refused to confer the second degree on a 
graduate named Pierpont, on the ground that he had contemned, reproached and insulted the 
government of the College, and particularly the tutors, for their management in the admission 
of scholars. Pierpont threatened to prosecute Sever, the tutor who had brought forward the 
charge, in the civil court. It was suspected that Pierpont had been instigated by ex-Go\crnor 
Dudley and his son; the Fellows, in alarm, requested the Overseers " to take the first opportu- 
nity to discourse " with the supposed instigators. The Overseers did nothing; whereupon the 
Fellows appealed to Governor Shute, Dudley's successor, to summon the Overseers to a meet- 
ing. The meeting was largely attended; both Pierjjont and Sever were heard — the former, 
according to Lcverett, speaking with " confusion, impertinence and impudence," and the latter 
" with plainness, modesty and honestj-." The Overseers secredy supported Pierpont, and 
Shute supported the Overseers, .so that the Corporation was left in a position " which threatened 
the dissolution of the College." Happily, the courts of law quashed Pierpont's case against 
Sever, and thus was prevented the resignation of the President and Fellows — the consummation 
aimed at by the Overseers in seconding the contumacious Pierpont. 

The enemies of Leverett and the Corporation did not rest. At a meeting called " to petition 
the General Court to enlarge the building (Massachusetts Hall) they were then erecting for the 
College from fift\- to one hundred feet," Judge Scwall rose and said : " I desire to be informed 
how the worship of God is carried on in the Hall, and to ask Mr. President xdicthcr there has 



not been some intermission of the exposition of the Scriptures of late." President Leverett 
replied that the question was out of order and interrupted the special business of the meeting. 
The Governor supported this ruling, and the petition was passed; but the action of Sewall 
illustrates the persistence of the malcontents. The swift changes in politics caused the union 
of men who had previousl\- been opposed. Thus Dudley, who had been, while Governor, 
on the side of the Corporation, joined the other faction after he was superseded by Shute. 
Sewall, too, was now fighting with the Cah inists, although he had formerly been quite other 
than friendly to the Mathers, who led the Calvinists. In his diary, for instance, under date 
of October 20, 1701, there is the following amusing entrj- ; "Mr. Cotton .Mather came to 

and there talked 
me, as if I had used 
than a negro. Me 
the people in the 
him. J/^w. On 
her I .sent Mr. In- 
haunch of \-ery 
hope in that I did 
than a negro." 
follow the quarrels 
nor do more than 
they affected the 
lege. The next oc- 
the conflict broke 
dowment of a pro- 
it}- by Thomas 
merchant. Mollis 
vard, the man 
benefactors of the 
deserves its grati- 

Mr. ^\'ilkins' shop, 
\-er)- sharply against 
his father worse 
spake so loud that 
street might hear 
the 9th of Octo- 
crease Mather a 
good venison. I 
not treat him worse 
But we cannot 
of the sectarians, 
indicate wherein 
fortunes of the Col- 
casion on which 
out was at the en- 
fessorship of divin- 
Hollis, a London 
is, after John Mar- 
among the earl\- 
College who most 
tude. Of a wise 
acter, his liberal 
havior seems all 
when contrasted 
bigoted sectarian- 


and generous char- 
and Christian be- 
the more admirable 
with the narrow and 
ism of the Colonists 

upon whom he bestowed his gifts. Me wrote to Dr. Colman. a member of the Corporation, 
on January 28, 1721 : "After fort\' \'ears' diligent application to mercantile business, my God, 
whom I serve, has mercifull\- succeeded my endeavors, and, with my increase, inclined my 
heart to a proportional distribution. I have credited the promise : Ht- tliat givetli to tite 
poor, leitdctJi to the Lord, and ha\-e found it verified in this life." In his own faith he was 
a Baptist, but in founding a professorship he was guided by no sectarian motives. All that 
he asked was that no one should be rejected on account of Baptist or other principles, save 
that the incumbent should subscribe to the belief " that the Scriptures of the Old and New 
Testaments are the only perfect rule of faith and manners." " I lo\e them," he wrote to 
Colman (August i, 1720), "that show by their works that they love Jesus Christ. While 
I bear with others who are sincere in their more confined charit\-, I would that thev would 


bear with mc in my more enlarged. We searcli after truth. \\"c sec but in part. Happy 
the man who retkices liis notions in a constant train of practice. Charity is the grace which 
now adorns and prepares for glorv'. May it always abide in >'our breast and mine, and 
grow more and more." On February 14, 1721, he executed the instrument of endowment. 
Levcrett and the Corporation accepted it, but the Calvinist majorit\- in the Overseers were 
at first inchned to refuse the gift as being hkcly to encourage unorthodox doctrines; then, 
having accepted it, the\- proceeded, by action which, to speak mildly, was deceitful, to con- 
travene the terms of Hollis's foundation. Tlie Rev. Edward Wigglesworth was chosen to fill 
the new chair (1721), but he was subjected to a theological test, in which he "declared his 
assent: i. To Dr. Ames' ' Medulla Theologia\' 2. To the Confession of Faith contained in 
the Assembly's Catechism. 3. To the doctrinal Articles of the Church of Jingland. More 
particularly: i. To the doctrine of the Holy Trinity. 2. To the doctrine of the eternal God- 
head of the blessed Saviour. 3. To the doctrine of Predestination. 4. To the doctrine of 
special efficacious grace. 5. To the divine right of infant baptism." Several years elapsed 
during which negotiations were carried on between Hollis and the College, but it does not 
appear that he was treated candidlj", nor that, to the day of his death, " the construction which 
substituted, in place of the simple declaration required bv him, an examination and declara- 
tion of faith in all the high points of New England Calvinism," was ever communicated 
to him.' 

Simultaneous with this controversy, there broke out another of ecpial violence to trouble 
the stormy administration of Leverett. On June 23, 1721, the 0\crscers received a memo- 
rial from Nicholas Sever and William Welsteed, two College tutors, claiming their right to 
seats in the Corporation. They based their claim on the fact that, being engaged in 
instruction, and receiving a stipend, the\- were Fellows of the College, and that the charter 
of 1650 designated the President, Treasurer and Fellows to be members of the Corporation. 
Their pretension, it will be seen, hung on the ambiguous meaning of the word J'^i/ou'. In 
1650, when the Charter was granted, there were no F"ellows in the sense in which that 
word is iised at luiglish Universities, which was the sense that Se\cr and Welsteed 
attached to it; and for a long lime aftei- that date it was not applied to any instructor 
who was not also a member of the Corporation. The ni.ijorit}- of the fi\e I'ellous were 
non-residents, for it could not be expected, as Quinc\- remarks, that these officers, whose 
duties involved only an occasional superintendence of the aft'airs of the College, would 
agree to live in Cambridge, without salary, when the institution was still too small to 
require their daily presence. About the beginning of the eighteenth centin\- the habit 
grew of calling tutors Fellows; but in order to distinguish them, the expression "of the 
House " was added ; w liile the others were known as " I'ellow s of the College or Corpora- 
tion." This distinction was clearly enough observed, for, in April 1714, we find the 
record that Holyoke was chosen " a F'ellow of the Corporation," and Robie " a Fellow of 
the House." Three years later the Corporation passed a vote " that no tutor, or Fellow 
of the House, now or henceforth to be chosen, shall hold a fellowship with a salary for 
more than three j-ears, except continued b.\- a new election." Experience had shown that 
it was unwise to make unlimited appointments. 

The Overseers heard the petition of Sever and Welsteed, which seems to ha\'e been 
inspired not so much by the desire to have a mootpoint settled as to oust Colman, 

' Quincy, i, 263. 


Appleton and W'adsworth from the Corporation and to embarrass President Leverett. 
A committee was appointed, consisting chiefly of malcontents. Meanwhile the Overseers 
petitioned the General Court to make a " convenient addition to the Corporation, and 
therein to have regard to the resident Fellows, or tutors, that they may be of that 
number." But the malcontents, perceiving that their petition, if granted, would merely 
introduce their partisans into the Corporation, without removing from it the members at 
whom the intrigue was aimed, resolved that an increase of number was undesirable, and 
that " it was the intent of the College Charter that the tutors, or such as have the instruc- 
tion and government of the students, should be Fellows and Members of the Corporation, 
provided the}' exceed not fi\e in number; and that none of said Fellows be Overseers." 
Evidentl}', our pious ancestors lacked not the wisdom of the serpent on this occasion; 
under this seemingly innocent resolution they hid a scheme for revolutionizing the govern- 
ment of the College. Their report was actually accepted by the House of Representatives 
and b}' the Council ; the Governor, howe\er, refused to consent to it unless W'adsworth, 
Colman and Appleton should remain in the Corporation. Then it appeared, both from 
the action of the Legislature and from that of the Overseers, that their intent had been 
to get rid of those three obnoxious members. Sever and Welsteed presented two other 
memorials; but the matter was finally disposed of (August 23, 1723) by the refusal of 
the Council, which now stood b)- Governor Shutc and the Corporation, to concur in the 
policy of the House of Representati\es, which still sided with the Overseers. 

The firmness displayed throughout the struggle by the President and three Fellows, 
acting solely from a sense of dut}' in the interests of the College, is worth\- of admira- 
tion. When we remember, moreover, that the President depended upon the Legislature 
for the annual grant of his salary, we shall appreciate his courage the more justly. He 
was frequently obliged to petition that his salary should be more promptly paid, and his 
petitions were so often disregarded that he feared the Representatives intended " to starve 
him out of the service." " If such be their mind," he added, " it is but letting me know, 
and I will not put the House to exercise that cruelty." He died in May 1724, after an 
arduous and honorable administration, leaving debts to the amount of ;^2000 to attest his 
devotion to the College and the meanness of the State, which was in honor bound to provide 
for his decent subsistence. His term was one of the most critical in the history of the 
College. As we ha\e seen, he held office just at the time when the Colony was breaking 
asunder the original Puritanical limits ; when the effects of the change in the political con- 
stitution were beginning to appear ; when a considerable part of the population no longer 
belonged to the Cah'inist Church ; when a ri\al college had sprung up at New Haven. 
Himself of a liberal cast, he struggled to stamp a more liberal policy upon Harvard, and 
to thwart the efforts of the more bigoted majorit}- to regain complete control of the Col- 
lege and to subvert its Charter. That he succeeded was due in part to the co-operation of 
the Governors, Dudley and Shute, but chiert\- to his own wisdom and firmness and to the 
support of his colleagues in the Corporation. 

The Corporation elected the Rev. Joseph Sewall to succeed Leverett. There were 
many aspirants, including the irrepressible Cotton Mather, who records in his diary: "I 
always foretold these two things of the Corporation : first, that, if it were possible for them 
to steer clear of me, they will do so; secondly, that, if it were possible for them to act 
foolishl)-, the\- will do so. The perpetual envy with which m>- essays to serve the kingdom 



of God arc trcatctl among them, and the dread that Satan has of my beating up liis quarters 
at the College, led me into the former sentiment ; the marvellous indiscretion with which the 
affairs of the College are managed, led me into the latter." Sewall declined, and the Rev. 
Ik-njamin Colman was chosen; but his experience as I-'ellow had warned him what harsh 
treatment he might receive from tho Legislature, and he, too, would not take tlie rresidency. 
In lune 1725, the Rev. Benjamin Wadsworth was elected, and he consented to .serve. Thus, 
thrice within a \ear Cotton Mather was painfully reminded that Satan ruled the decisions 
of the Harvard Corporation. The Legislature, to relieve Wadsworth of justifiable apprehen- 
sion, pledged itself to pay his salary promptly, and tuiliicr appropriated /"looo for the crec- 

dwelling for the 
house, still called 
its first occupant, 
until 1727, when 
paiil ;^<Soo bejond 
priation. A por- 
dcnt's salary was 
rents of Massachu- 
as stated above, 
pa\-ment of the 
which he had to 
islature, was, in 
was a man of "firm- 
and good judg- 
which were soon 
a new religious 
spread constcrna- 
orthodox in all 
incc, and centred 
This time the dis- 
between factions 
between Calvinists 
between the ortho- 
cans. As early as 

tion of a suitable 
President. This 
after Wailsworth, 
was not completed 
the College had 
the State apjiro- 
tion of the I'resi- 
derived from the 
setts Hall (built, 
in 1730), but the 
remainder, f o r 
look to the Leg- 
spite of promises, 
Wad sworth 
ness, gentleness, 
ment " — qualities 
put to the test by 
discussion which 
tion throughout the 
parts of the Prov- 
at the College, 
pute was no longer 
of Calvinists, nor 
and Baptists, but 
do.x and the Angli- 


1682, Edward Randolph had suggested that the doctrines of the Church of England might 
be propagated in the Colony by means of funds sent from the mother country; and he 
even went so far as to propose, in a letter to Sancroft, Archbishop of Canterbury, " that 
able ministers might be appointed to perform the offices of the Church with us, and that 
for their maintenance a part of the money sent over hither and pretended to be expended 
amongst the Indians should be ordered to go towards that charge." That fund for con- 
verting the Indians had been begun soon after the founding of Harvard ; a school for 
Indians had been built in Cambridge; some of the natives had been taught in it; but, on 
the whole, the effort had failed. A few Indians had entered the College, but only one, 
Caleb Cheeshahteaumuck, had taken the Bachelor's degree, in 1665. The others proved 
themselves either incapable of attaining the required standard in studies, or they fell sick 


and died of consumption. This was the case with Larnel, a member of ilie Junior Class in 
1714, who died at about the age of twenty, "an acute grammarian, an extraordinar>- Latin 
poet, and a good Greek one." Eliot's translation of the Bible and his mission to the Indians 
seem to have been the chief fruits of this endeavor to Christianize them. That Randolph 
should propose to pervert this fund from the intent of its contributors, and apply it to 
strengthen Episcopalianism in New England, might surprise us, had we not already had 
glimpses of the power of sectarianism to blind the honor and dull the conscience of those 
who were its victims. W'e have no evidence that Sancroft or his successor connived at this 
scheme ; but other moneys were subscribed in England, and missionaries were sent over to 
the Colon}-, and the tenets of the Anglican Church were diligently spread. When King's 


Chapel was dedicated in Boston, the orthodox took alarm ; but the membership of the Angli- 
can Church increased, and the orthodox felt again their old dread of being persecuted by 
the Church which had the British Crown and State behind it. The crisis came in 1727, when 
the Re\-. Dr. Cutler, a graduate of Harvard in 1701, then minister of the church at Stratford, 
Connecticut ( 1709), and Rector of Vale College (1719), and then a convert to Episcopalianism, 
presented a memorial to the Lieutenant-Go\ernor " that he might be notified to be present 
at the meetings of the Overseers." He claimed that as a minister of Boston he was ex officio. 
according to the Charter of 1650, entitled to a seat in the Board. The Rev. Mr. Myles, rector 
of King's Chapel, presented a similar petition. The Overseers declared that Cutler and ]\[yles 
had no such right. The petitioners, nevertheless, persisted : they affirmed that the orthodox)- 
of their church was questioned b>- no sound Protestant; that its members bore an equal pro- 


portion in all public charges in support of the College; that its ministers were " cquall\- with 
any others qualified and disposed to promote the interests of religion, good literature, and of 
good manners;" that they were " teaching elders" in the sense intended b\- the Charter. To 
this the Overseers replied that the question concerning the definition of a "teaching elder" 
could be decided only by referring to the meaning of that term in 1650, when the Ciiarter was 
granted ; that then it plainly applied only to the ministers of the Congregational churches, 
because there were no adherents of other denominations in the Colony; that the term had 
never been known in the Anglican Church; and that, therefore, since it belonged only to 
Congregational ministers, they alone had the ex officio right to be Overseers. The memo- 
rial was accordingly rejected, and the Council and the Lieutenant-Governor concurred in 
the vote. 

On the accession of George 11, in iJ2j, the Corporation sent to London an address of 
congratulation for Mr. Hollis to present to the sovereign. The address had been prepared 
four years before, on the discovery of a conspiracy against George I, and was now merely 
retouched to suit the occasion. Mr. Hollis saw that its provincial stjle would hardly be 
acceptable at court, and he recommended that it be revised. " Vour compliments," he wrote, 
"are fifty if not one hundred years too ancient for our present polite st}le of court; " [yours 
is] "a Bible address, says one; a concordance address, says another; though I think it an 
honest-meaning Christian address. What ha\e courts to do to study Old Testament phrases 
and prophecies? It is well if thej' read the Common Pra}-er-Book and Psalter carefull\'." It 
does not appear that the Corporation, after hearing this frank ad\ice, offered any congratulation 
to the King. 

During Wadsworth's term the discipline of the College seems to have given a part, at 
least, of the Overseers grounds for finding fault. But, as the common de\ice of the malcon- 
tents was to circulate reports that the worship of God was scandalously neglected in the Hall, 
we may doubt whether there was unusual laxit_\- at this period. A Committee of X'isitation 
was appointed, howe\er, and, after in\estigating. it jiroposed a revision and more stringent 
enforcement of the laws, to which 1 shall refer later. The recognition of the College l'"acult\' 
was formalh- made in 1725, although as early as December 14, 1708, its existence in fact is 
attested b_\- the record that a student had been expelled b\- "///<• Picsidnit and rcsiihiit Fcl/ozvs, 
with the advice and consent of the non-resident Fellows of this House." In the course of time, 
e.xperience must ha\e made it necessarj' that the President and Tutors (or resident Fellows, as 
they had come to call themselves) should decide matters of daily discipline and government, 
without consulting the Overseers, who met only occasionally; thus the Facult>- came to be 
recognized as a distinct body, records date from September 1725. Two other events 
of Wadsworth's administration deserve notice. Longloissorie, a Frenchman, instructor in the 
French language, was charged with disseminating doctrines " not consistent with the safety of 
the College." He asserted, the charge ran, that he saw visions, and that revelations were made 
to him, such as the " unlawfulness of magistracy- among Christians, and consequently of any 
temporal punishments for evil-doers from man; [and] that punishment from God in the 
future state would be sure not to be eternal, nor any other, nor perhaps, more, even for a 
time, than what wicked men now suffer in this world, by being abandoned to the outrage of 
their own and others' passions." "These extraordinarj- things Monsieur did not broach all 
at once," but as soon as the authorities heard of them, they dismissed him and forbade all 
students from attending his lectures (1735). 



The second incident illustrates how often at that epoch the relations between the 
Corporation and Overseers were strained. In June 1736, a student named Hartshorn ap- 
plied for the Master's degree. He had never received the Bachelor's, and the Corporation 
deemed him unqualified. Thereupon the Overseers voted him his degree, although the 
College law declared that " no academic degree shall be given but by the Corporation 
with the consent of the Overseers." At Commencement three of the Corporation rose and 
opposed Hartshorn's being graduated, and the President pronounced it to be illegal. There- 
upon the Goxernor rose and declared that Hartshorn was entitled to the degree; there was 
a long debate, and then the Governor quitted the assembly. The Corporation won this time, 

came to terms with 
granted the degree. 
Professorship was en- 
HoUis, that of Mathe- 
Philosophy, and his 
College ceased only 
which his nephews 
tinued their patron- 
tift}' years. No other 
so many members to 
indebted, as the Hollis 
sistance came at a time 
far more precious than 

untoward conditions, 
-teadih' during the 
W'adsworth. In the 
there were seven hun- 
Bachelors graduated, 
twenty-four to a class ; 
of 1713, numbered 
of 1725, numbered 
age under Leverett 

but the next year thc_\- 
the Overseers, and 

In 1727, a second 
dowed b\- Thomas 
matics and Natural 
benefactions to the 
with his death, after 
and descendants con- 
age for more than 
famil}' has furnished 
whom the College is 
famil}-; and their as- 
v,hen it was relatively 
much larger bequests 

In spite of the 
the College grew 
terms of Leverett and 
thirty years, 1707-36, 
dred and nineteen 
an average of nearlv 
the smallest class, that 
five ; the largest, that 
fort}--five. The a\er- 
(1707-24) was twent}'; 
was nearly thirt>'-four 


under W'adsworth it 
In 1732 the estate of the College produced an income of ^728 75. 
(not including the income on property bequeathed for special purposes), an increase 
of about ^100 per annum during the previous decade. President Wadsworth died in 
March 1737. 

Two months later the Rev. Edward Hol\oke was elected to the Presidency, in which he 
served longer — thirty-two years — than any of his predecessors or successors. He had 
been minister at Marblehead, but had served in the Corporation. The Corporation and Over- 
seers before voting joined in prayer, in order to be guided aright. Their choice first fell on 
the Rev. William Cooper, who immediately declined. Then they elected Hol)-oke unanimous!)-, 
an e\ent hitherto imprecedented. Moreover, although they deemed it necessar}' to catechise 
a candidate for the Professorship of Mathematics as to his orthodox)-, the)- subjected the Presi- 
dent-elect to no such test. The General Court granted him a salar)- of £200, in addition to the 



icnU of Massachusetts Hall, and soothed the parish of Marblehead by a j^rant of ^140 to his 
successor there. Ilolyokc was inaugurated September 28, 1737. The ceremonies on that 
occasion are thus described by Ouinc\-: "The Governor, Overseers and Corporation met in 
the Library. At tlie hour appointed the Governor led the President from the Librar\- down 
to the Hall, preceded by the Librarian, carrying the books. Charter, laws and College seal, 
and by the Butler, bearing the keys; and followed b\- the Overseers, Corporation, students 
and attending gentlemen. After prayer by Dr. Sewall, a speech in Latin was made bv the 
Governor, in the course of which he delivered to the President the Charter, ke\-s, etc. The 
President replied in Latin. .A congratulatory oration, by Mr. Barnard, Master of Arts, suc- 

i5«f=''=?'"*'^''**r '-.-:^'^ 



cecded, and the ceremonies were concluded b\" singing a part of the se\enty-eighth Psalm, 
and a pra\er b\- the Re\'. Thomas Prince. After which there was a dinner in the Hall, and 
in the evening the Colleges were brilliant!)- illuminated." ^ 

One of llolyoke's first duties was to preside at the remo\ al of Isaac Greenwood, Mollis Pro- 
fessor of Mathematics. lie had been graduated in the Class of 1721, had gone to London and 
preached there with some success; had become acquainted with Mr.Ilollis, and persuaded him 
to found immediate!)' a I'rofessorship of Mathematics, instead of leaving a bequest for that pur- 
Dose, as had been liis intention. Mollis was at first pleased with Greenwood, and inclined to 
recommend him to the new chair. But e\en before Greenwood cjuitted Lngland, Hollis's 
doubts were e.xcited. Greenwood had left his lodgings without i)a)ing his bill, had run into 
otlier deljts, had sjient in a sliort time ^300 in conviviality, and, among other extravagances, had 
bouglit " three pair of pearl-colored silk stockings." Mollis communicated his doubts to the 

1 (Juiiicy, ii, 11. 


Corporation, sounded them to know whether a friend of his, a Baptist, would be accepted ; 
but, finding sectarian prejudice still high — (although, as he asked, what had the dispute over 
Baptism to do with teaching mathematics?) — he consented to Greenwood's appointment. 
The latter was a man of keen intellect, but habitually intemperate, and after frequent relapses, 
admonitions from the Corporation, promises to reform, and renewed backsliding, he was 
removed in 1738. Three years later similar charges were preferred against Nathan Prince, 
Tutor and member of the Corporation. The Overseers began proceedings for his dismissal, 
although they therein over stepped their legal prerogatives, " their jurisdiction being appellate 
and not original ; " but the Corporation waived the technical illegality and concurred in the 
examination of Prince. Among the charges proved against him were, " speaking with con- 
tempt of the President and Tutors as to learning;" "charging the President with making 
false records with design;" calling one Tutor a "puppy," another a "liar;" "accustoming 
himself to rude and ridiculous gestures ; " " speaking out in time of public worship so as to 
excite laughter ; " " negligence of his pupils ; " and " intemperance in strong drink." On 
February 18, 1741-42, it was voted to remove him, and although he appealed to the General 
Court, he was not reinstated. These unpleasant experiences led to two permanent results: 
the custom of appointing Tutors for only three years, instead of without limit, became fixed ; 
and the custom of admitting, almost as a matter of course, the t\vo senior Tutors to mem- 
bership in the Corporation was dropped. 

Another wa\e of religious excitement swept at this time over the Colony, and broke 
upon the College. As early as 1736, Jonathan Edwards, Pastor of the church at Northamp- 
ton, had begun to inflame the imagination, not only of his parishioners, but of all New 
England, by his vivid presentation of Calvin's doctrines. In intellectual ability he surpassed 
an}- theologian who had }-et been born in this countr)-; and his intense, but narrow mind, 
seizing hold of the Calvinistic doctrines of original sin, predestination and similar articles 
of the brimstone creed, infused into them his own fire and made them terribly lifelike to 
his hearers. Let it suffice to quote his description of hell, as illustrative of the vehemence 
and vividness of his imagination: "The world," he says, "will be probably converted into 
a great lake or liquid globe of fire ; a vast ocean of fire, in which the wicked shall be 
overwhelmed, which will always be in tempest, in which they shall be tossed to and fro, 
ha\ing no rest day or night; vast waves or billows of fire continually rolling over their 
heads." " They shall eternally be full of the most quick and lively to feel the tor- 
ment . . . not for one minute, nor for one day, nor for one year, nor for one age, nor for 
two ages, nor for a hundred ages, nor for ten thousand or millions of ages, one after another, 
but for ever and ever, without any end at all, and never, never be delivered." By such lan- 
guage as this, Edwards frightened New Englanders into that state of panic terror which was 
supposed to be equivalent to Christlike devoutness and charity; and religion was in this 
condition when, in September 1740, George Whitefield, an English itinerant preacher, began 
his remarkable "revivals" in New England. 

He preached to the College students in the First Church at Cambridge, and was courteously 
received by President Holyoke. He was shocked at the lack of true godliness in the institution, 
declaring Harvard to be almost as corrupt as the English Universities. " Tutors," he wrote, 
" neglect to pray with, and examine the hearts of their pupils. Discipline is at too low an ebb. 
Bad books are become fashionable amongst them. Tillotson and Clarke are read instead of 
Shepard and Stoddard, and such like evangelical writers." Whitefield's denunciations and 



eloquence " wrought wonderfully " upon the hearts of many of the students. The visiting 
committee of the Overseers reported, in June 1741, "that they find of late extraordinary and 
happ>- impressions of a religious nature have been made, . . . by which means the College 
is in better order than usual." Tutor Flynt, who estimated Whitefield very justlj' as a 
■■ zealous man," " but over censorious, over rash and over confident," says that at their 
revival meetings some i>f the students "told of their visions, sonic of their convictions, some 
of their assurances, some of their consolations. One pretended to sec the Devil in the 
shape of a bear coming to his bedside. Others burst into a laugh when telling of the day 
of judgment; another did so in prayer, which they imputed to the Devil's temptation; some 
were under great terrors; some had a succession of clouds and comforts; .some spoke of 


prayer and amendment of life as a poor foundation of trust, advising to look only to the 
merits and righteousness of Christ ; some talked about the free grace of God in election and 
of the decrees. . . . Many, if not all, mean well. Some have extravagancies and errors of 
a weak and warm imagination." 

The enthusiasm, or frenz\', could not last long; within two years the reaction came; but 
before this the College authorities deemed it their duty to reply to the aspersions cast by White- 
field on " the school of the prophets." President Holyoke declared in a .sermon that never 
within his memor)-, extending back nearly five-and-thirty years, had the condition of Harvard 
been so favorable as then. In December 1744, "the President, Professors, Tutors and Hebrew 
Instructor" published a pamphlet containing testimony " against the Rev. George Whitefield 
and his Conduct; ' and when Whitefield replied. Dr. Wigglesworth (April 1745) answered 
him in an open letter. It is our duty, he said, to examine our own heart, but it is not so 


clear that we ought to examine the hearts of others. Christ has said. " I am he who searches 
the reins and hearts ;"" woul.d you have Tutors invade His prerogative? or would you intro- 
duce the Popish practice of auricular confession?" Holyoke closed the controversy in an 
appendix to Wigglesworth's Letter, telling Whitefield that " whatever good was done, hath 
been prodigiously overbalanced by the evil ; and the furious zeal with w hich you had so 
fired the passions of the people hath, in many places, burnt up the very vitals of religion ; 
and a censorious, unpeaceablc, uncharitable disposition hath, in multitudes, usurped the place 
of a godly jealous}'." 

Jonathan Edwards, too, zealot that he was, had early perceived the excesses caused by 
the re\ival, and while he endeavored " to deaden and direct the flame he had assisted to 
kindle," his own vehement and terrible doctrines were attacked by two liberal clergymen 
of Boston, Charles Chaunc\- and Jonathan AIa)hew, who deserve to be gratefully remem- 
bered not only for their more humane and charitable tenets, but also for the courage with 
which the\- announced them. In the history of Harvard this religious controversy is import- 
ant, because the Government of the College then squarely took its place on the liberal side, 
and at no time was there more danger lest it should relapse into the control of the more 
bigoted sectarians. As a result, the latter concentrated their hopes on Yale College, and 
strove to make it the vessel of undefiled Calvinism. And whilst these dissensions perturbed 
the Orthodox, the Society for Propagating the doctrines of the Church of England renewed 
its efforts, and made man}- con\erts. It opened a Church in Cambridge, where students 
who were Anglicans might worship, and it proposed that a Bishop should be sent over 
from England to take charge of the growing parishes. These indications of growth, 
although the}' must have been distasteful to the Orthodox, no longer filled them with 
consternation; and we nia}- sa}- that, about the year 1760, the various sects in Boston and 
its neighborhood were so well established, that no one could openly persecute all the others, 
and that the}- had begun to live together in tolerance. The College, which drew its scholars 
from all quarters and classes, was naturall}- disposed to mitigate its prejudices; but for a 
long time to come, the dominant influence was Presb}'terian, and Prcsb}-terian of a t}-pe 
which would now be called extreme. 

During the French War (1756-63) the number of students fell oft' a litde, but in 
1765 the graduating class had fift}--four members. On the accession of George III (1760), 
Governor Bernard suggested that it would be fitting for the College to congratulate the 
new monarch. Accordingl}- si.x prizes of a guinea each were offered for the best oration, 
poem, elegy on the late King and ode in Latin, and for an English poem and ode. Grad- 
uates and under-graduates competed, and a volume containing thirtv'-one pieces and entitled 
Pittas ct Gratiilatio Collcgii Cantabrigiciisis apud Novanglos was sent to England to be pre- 
sented to the King. To this work Go\ernor Bernard himself contributed five effusions, and 
President Holyoke an ode said to be " truly Horatian." So far as we can learn, George III 
took no notice of this, the last address the English sovereign ever received from the Cor- 
poration and students of Harvard as his subjects. In 1762 a petition reached the Legisla- 
ture to grant a charter to a college to be founded in Hampshire count}-. The petitioners 
belonged to the strict Orthodox sect, which regarded Harvard as too liberal. The petition 
passed the Legislature, and Governor Bernard had signed a bill for the incorporation of 
the new institution, when the Har\-ard Overseers in alarm drew up a long list of objections. 
The\- pointed out that there was no need of another college ; that it w ould injure Harvard, 

VOL. I. — 5 



to uliusc support the Colony had been pledged for nearly one huiulred and thirty years; 
that it was desirable to maintain a high standard of learning, and tills would be impos- 
sible were another institution permitted to confer degrees, because were the means now 
devoted to one divided between two, the standard of both would be lowered; that jealousies 
and dissensions prejudicial to the peace and education of the Colony would be fomented. 
The Governor declared that he would do nothing harmful to the interests of Harvard, but 
that he would refer the matter to the British ministry. To them, therefore, a strong remon- 
strance was sent, with the effect of defeating the grant of a charter. 

Almost immediatelj- afterwards a calamity at Harvard " turned the current of sympathy 
and patronage into its ancient channel." Earlj- in 1764 small-pox broke out in Boston, 


and the Legislature. remo\-ing to Cambridge, held its sessions in Har\ard Hall, ^\liere the 
Governor and Council occupied the Library and the Representatives the apartment below. 
On the night of January 24 the Hall was burned. The following account of the " most 
ruinous loss the College ever met with since its foundation " is from the " Massachusetts 
Gazette" of Thursda\', February 2, 1764: "In the niitkllc of a \'ery tempestuous night, a 
severe cold st<^rm of snow, we were awakened by llie .ilarm of fire. Harvard Hall, the only 
one of our ancient buildings which still remained, and the repository of our most valuable 
treasures, the public librar\- and philosophical apparatus, was seen in flames. As it was a 
time of vacation, in which the students were all dispersed, not a single person was left in 
any of the Colleges, except two or three in that jiart of Massachusetts most distant from 
Harvard, where the fire could not be perceived till the whole surrounding air began to be 
illuminated by it. When it was discovered from the town it had risen to a degree of vio- 



leiicc that defied all opposition. It is conjectured to have begun in a beam under the 
hearth in the Library, wher.e a fire had been kept for the use of the General Court, now 
residing and sitting here by reason of the small-pox in Boston ; from thence it burst out 
into the Librarw The books easily submitted to the fury of the flames, which, with a rapid 
and irresistible progress, made its way to the Apparatus Chamber and spread through the 
whole building. In a very short time this venerable monument of the piety of our ancestors 
was turned into a heap of ruins. The other Colleges, Stoughton Hall and Massachusetts 
Hall were in the utmost hazard of sharing the same fate. The wind driving the flaming 
cinders directly upon their roofs, they blazed out several times in different places; nor 
could they have been saved by all the help the town could afford had it not been for the 


assistance of the gentlemen of the General Court, among whom his E.xcellenc}- the Governor 
was very active ; who, notwithstanding the extreme rigor of the season, exerted themselves in 
supplying the town engine with water, which the_\- were obliged to fetch at last from a dis- 
tance, two of the College pumps being then rendered useless. Even the new and beautiful Hollis 
Hall — though it was on the windward side — hardly escaped. It stood .w near to Har\-ard 
that the flames actuallj- seized it, and if the>- had not been immediately suppressed must 
have carried it." 

The Legislature, at the instigation of Governor Bernard, resoUed to rebuild Harvard 
Hall at the expense of i^2000, granted ^lOO for a fire-engine for the College and indem- 
nified students whose books and furniture had been destroyed. Donations of money, books 
and apparatus flowed in from all parts of the Annrican Colonies, and from the mother 
countr}-. From the list of gifts I quote two among man\- items : From John Greenwood, 




Great Britain, '• two curious E<j\ptian nnimmics for the museum;" from tlic Hon. jnlin 
Hancock, Esq., " a set of the most elegant carpets to cover the (loors of the Library, llie 
Apparatus ami the Philosophy Chambers ; he also covered the walls of the latter w ith a 
rich paper." The losses were, indeed, more than made good. A finer Hall rose on the 
ruins of old Harvard, and was completed in June 1766, having cost $23,000; and its 
equipment was better than the old; but the loss which we to-day most regret, and which 
coulil not be repaireil, was the destruction of John Harvard's books, whereby all personal 
relations, so to speak, between the founder and posterity, were swept awa\-. Onlj- one 
book from his collection has been preserved, and is now kept in the College Library. 


During President Hol\'oke's term two other buildings were added to the College. In 
1741 Mrs. Holden, widow of Samuel llolden, late Governor of the Bank of England, gave 
;f400 to build a chapel, which was erected in 1744. In 1762 the Legislature, taking into 
consideration the large number of students who could not be lodged in the then existing 
buildings, appropriated ;£'2000 " towards building a new College at Cambridge, of the dimen- 
sions of Massachusetts Hall." This edifice was dedicated in January 1764, just before the 
burning of Harvard, and was fitl\- named Hollis, after that famil\- to which the College owed 
so much. 

In 1765, b\- the will t>f Thomas Hancock, the College received a legacy of £\ooo 
sterling, to found a Professorship of Hebrew and other Oriental Languages, the first chair 
founded by an American. Other gifts enriched the institution and helped to make its work, 
under Holyoke's direction, more efficient. Of measures adopted to raise the standard of 
scholarship, and to improve the discipline of the students, I shall speak later. 



Holyokc died in June 1769. John Winthrop, Mollis Professor of Mathematics, and a 
man of unusual scientific, attainments, was offered the Presidency; but he declined, as did 
two other members of the Corporation. Then the Rev. Samuel Locke, Pastor at Sherburne, 
was chosen, and he accepted. He seems to have had little force and he left no impression 
on the development of the College. One of his contemporaries describes him as being " of 
an excellent spirit, and generous catholic sentiments ; a friend to liberty ; his greatest de- 
fect, a want of knowledge of the world, having lived in retirement, and perhaps not a general 
acquaintance with books." Tiiat lie was a " friend to liberty," was probably one of the 
chief reasons for electing him; because by that time patriotic enthusiasm had already kindled 

Governors at Har- 
the members of 
signified their ha- 
ation, b>' unani- 
take their degrees 
• tures of this coun- 
appeared at Com- 
in "untaxed," 
tured garments. 
ant-G o V e r n o r 

tlie students and 
vard. In 1768, 
the Senior Class 
tred of British tax- 
mousl)- voting "to 
in the manufac- 
tr}- ; " and the\' 
mencement clad 
In 1768 Lieuten- 
Hutchinson pro- 
eral Court to meet 
lege on March 
ingly met, but 
session was called 
May, the Corpo- 
strated thaf'Har- 
bcen instituted for 
of the education 
that it regarded 
with deep con- 
formal application 
use of the Halls 
it was granted, 
inson was ap- 
( March 1771 ) the 



jnllX WIXIHROl' 

rogued the Gen- 
at Harvard Col- 
1 5th. It accord- 
when a second 
in the month of 
ration remon- 
vard College had 
the sole purpose 
of youth," and 
this precedent 
cern. But when a 
was made for the 
on election day. 
and when Hutch- 
pointed Governor 

Corporation pre- 
sented him with a complimentar\- address, and gave him a flattering reception at the College. 
Nevertheless, sentim.ent at Harvard was largely with the popular cause, and for the first tmie 
the Triennial Catalogue was printed with the students' names arranged alphabetically, mstead 
of according to the rank of their families, as had theretofore been the custom. This is but 
one indication of the prevailing republican feelings. In 177,^ John Hancock was chosen 
Treasurer — an unfortunate choice, as was after\vards shown ; but his popularity was so great 
that but little thought was given to his qualifications as a financier. Two }-ears previous 
the Corporation, to show its admiration for him, had invited him to a public dinner in t e 
Hall, "to sit with the Governors of the College," — an honor conferred on no other private 
person, and all the more significant then because his avowed patriotism had made im 


obnoxious to Goxcnior I Iiitcliiiisim and tlio Royalists. One other event, durinp; I,ockc's 
brief term, ma_\- be mentioned. In N'()\ ember 1773, the Corixiraticm, in uriler to pcrpelnate 
the memory of the benefactors of tlie College, resolved "to enter fairl>- in a book" their 
names and gifts; to write their names in letters of gold, and place them over the windows 
and on the walls of the Chapel ; " to commemorate them b\' an oration at each Commence- 
ment; and to place on a tablet over the Hall door, the following distich from Martial: — 

" Sint -Mjecenates, non deerunt, I'lacce, Marones ; 
VergiliunKiue tihi vel tua run dahnnl." 

OnK- the first and third of these priii)osals were carried out. 

Cll.llTl'lR 111 
TiiK I'lRst Fiu'ii'-^ <'K Imii;i>i:mu-:xci:. 1775-1810 

1\ December 177.1. I'resident Locke resigned, and aWcv the usual attempt to induce un- 
willing persons to succeed him, the Rev. Samuel Langdon, of Portsmouth, was elected at 
a meeting " holden at Colonel Hancock's house," on Jul)' 18, 1774. From the outset lie was 
grcatl)' harassed, owing to the political disturbances, which interfereil with tiie resources of 
the College. In 1772 the Legislature had tried to make up the deficiencies by granting a 
lotter\' for the benefit of the College, but this was so uncertain a means that the Corporation 
were obliged themsuKes to take the tickets which remained unsold. The presence of the 
Legislature hail interfered with the usual work ; now came the time when soldiers were ([uar- 
tercd in the Halls. In April 1775, the Massachusetts Militia was mustered at Cambridge, and 
the College Go\ernment removed the library and apparatus to Andover. The Corporation 
were forceil to meet at Fowle's Ta\ern, in W'atertown, were the}' \'oted that, a public Com- 
mencement being impracticable, degrees should be conferred by a general diploma. A 
little later they ordered the removal of the College to Concord, where, it had been ascertaineil, 
one hundred and twenty-fi\'e students could be boarded. The exile lasted till June 177^).' 
Before that time the British troops had evacuated Boston (March 17th); and the Corporation 
and Overseers expressed their gratitude to General Washington " for his eminent services in 
the cause of his country and to this societ}'," and at Commencement the\' conferred upon 
him the degree of Doctor of Laws. In a memorial to the Legislature, the injury done tt) 
the College by the occupation of the soldiers, and by the loss of rents, including the income of 
the Charlestow n l-"erry, was set forth. IndLinnificatinn fir damages was finall\- made ; among the 
items we find lead taken from the roof of Harvard Hall, — presumablv- for bullets, — brass knobs, 
and tacks. Staples on which the soldiers slung their hammocks long remained in the halls. 

The College was now fully committed to the patriotic cause. The Overseers examined 
the Governors and instructors as to their political princi[)lcs, and the few stutlents who cherished 
Tory hopes took care to conceal them. Nevertheless, when General Heath, in the autumn of 
1777, requested the use of the College buildings for quartering the troops surrendered b)- 
Burgoyne, the Corporation objected. But the students were dismissed from December 1777, 

' No Ir.icc remains at Concord of the biiikliiig occupied liy tlie College. 


till the following February, after which there were no further interruptions in the College 
course while the Revolution lasted, although there was no public Commencement. 

Internal affairs during this period of national excitement require but little mention. The 
Overseers clashed with the Corporation in the appointment of a steward, and, after consider- 
able dispute, the former came to the conclusion that they had no jurisdiction in this appointment. 
More important was the resignation of President Langdon, in the summer of 1780. The 
students met and passed resolutions charging him with " impiety, heterodoxy, unfitness for the 
office of preacher of the Christian religion, and still more for that of President." A committee 
of twelve students then waited upon him with these resolutions. He seems to have been taken 
without warning and without having had previous intimations that he was unpopular. But 
he determined at once to resign. After morning prayers, two days later, he gave notice of his 
determination, adding that, as he " would be thrown destitute on the world," " resolutions of a 
fa\orable character might be of service to him." The students passed these as readily as the)- 
had passed the first. So far as can be learned, the undergraduates were, in this proceeding, 
only the instruments of Langdon's enemies, who did not dare, or care, to attack him openly. 
The most that was hinted against him was that he had not filled his position with so much 
vigor as his predecessors before the war; but, considering the difficulties he had met and his 
subsequent career in the New Hampshire Convention, this charge lacks verisimilitude. 

In addition to his being the President of the College at the Revolutionary crisis, Langdon 
will be remembered as the President during whose term the Constitution of the Commonwealth 
of Massachusetts was framed ( 1780). That Constitution confirmed to the President and F"ellows 
of Harvard College the enjoyment of " all the powers, authorities, rights, pri\ileges, immunities 
and franchises which they now have, or are entitled to have, hold, use, exercise and cnjo}'; " 
and it contained the following article : " Where.\S, by an Act of the General Court of the 
Colony of Massachusetts Bay, passed in the year 1642, the Governor and Deputy-Governor 
for the time being, and all the magistrates of that jurisdiction, w^ere, with the President and a 
number of the clergy in the said Act described, constituted the Overseers of Harvard College ; 
and it being necessary, in this new Constitution of Government, to ascertain who shall be 
deemed successors to the said Governor, Deputy-Governor and magistrates, — It is declared 
that the Governor, Lieutenant-Governor, Council and Senate of this Commonwealth arc and 
shall be deemed their successors, who, with the President of Harvard College for the time 
being, together with the ministers of the Congregational churches in the towns of Cambridge, 
W'atertown, Charlestown, Boston, Ro.xbury and Dorchester, mentioned in the said Act, shall 
be, and hereby are, vested with all the powers and authority belonging or in any way 
appertaining to the Overseers of Harvard College. Provided, that nothing herein shall be 
construed to prevent the Legislature of this Commonwealth from making such alterations in the 
government of the said University as shall be conducive to its advantage and the interests of 
the republic of letters, in as full a manner as might have been done by the Legislature of the 
late Province of ^Massachusetts Ba}-." 

The Constitution speaks indifferently of the "College" and the "University," this being 
perhaps the first instance when the latter term was officiall\- used. It declares, further, that no 
jierson holding the office of President, Professor or instructor of Harvard College shall, at the 
same time, have a seat in the Senate or House of Representatives. Thus we see that, while 
the State kept its ex officio control over the government of the College, it prohibited officers 
of the College from taking part in the government of the State. 


Despite the troubles and interruptions incident to tlic war, liic College had been fairly-well 
attended. The classes at graduation averaged thirty-four members, that of 1776 being the 
largest (forty-three), and that of 1779 being the smallest (twenty-six). Hut the revenues 
sutiereii greath', not onl\' from stoppage of paj-ment in some cases, but from the depreciation 
of the currency. In 177S, exchange on France stood at three luindred percent.; in March 
1779, at four hundred per cent., and the ne.Kt jear one ream of paper cost £150, and a quill cost 
$1.50 in provincial money. In November 1780, the price of the Corporation dinner was $52.61 
per person ; but b\- that time the currency was almost worthless.' 

At this turning-point in the hislor)- of i Iar\ard — for the College, after the Revolution, soon 
ceased to look to the Commonwealth for regular grants of money — we may fitly pass in review 
the dealing of the Legislature with the College. Our general verdict must be that, after the first 
vote of the General Court, in 1636, to appropriate ^400 to a school at Newtown, the Colony 
never gave Har\ard the financial sujiport which it desei'\ed. The grants were irregular, — 
often made only after repeated entreaties, and seldom paid promptl)'. The Legislature erected, 
besides the original Hall, Massachusetts, Hollis and the new Harvard Halls, and contributed 
;{"iOOO out of ;^i8oo towards Wadsworth House. It allowed the College the income of the 
Charlestown I'err}', which, in 1639. amounted to /TjO, l)ut which in some )-ears jiroduced 
less than the expenses. President Uunster's annual stipend probably did not exceed ;f lOO, 
paid in rates; Chauncy received the same; Hoar had ^^150 />(•;■ (iniiiim ; Oakes had ;^I00 
from the Colonial Treasury, and ^50 in " countr)- i)ay," corn, wheat, etc. ; the grant to 
Mather was at first ^lOO, then iiiil_\- ^^50; Vice-Prcsideiil Willard received horn £,50 to 
£'60; Leverett's salary was fixed at £\^0, subsequently increased by £})0, £^0, and once by 
;^5o; but the average was about ;{i^i8o; Wadsworth was assigned a grant of £i,<x>, ,^360 of 
which to be paid by the General Court, and ^^40 to be derived from the rents of Massachusetts 
Hall; the grants to Holx'oke averaged ^250, //«j- the aforesaid rents. Abcuit the middle of 
the eighteenth century the Legislature began to eke out the salaries of the Professors b\' 
grants; the Professor of Divinity received ;^iOO, of Mathematics, £%0, and of Hctjrew, ;^20. 
Ouincy estimates that the total amount granted annuall)' during Holyoke's term never ex- 
ceeded ;C450, and often fell far short of that figure. Man_\' of the lands granted to the 
College from time to time, although they aggregated several thousand acres, were never 
secured, owing to some flaw in the claim, or the\' lay in remote places where the\' produced 
but little. 

The revenues of the College, apart from the abo\e-mentioned subsidies, increased very 
slowly. In 1654, the income applicable to general purposes was only ;^27, of which ^^^15 was set 
aside for scholarships. The receipts from all sources from 1654 to 1668, were ;^26iH. In 1682 
the property of Harvard was valued at £2\^\\ in 1693 the income was ;^3i8. Under the 
prudent management of Thomas Brattle, who was Treasurer for twenty \ears (till 171 3). the 
estate of the College was increased in \alue to ^2952; in 1746 this had risen to ^11,150, pro- 
ducing )-early, at six per cent., £66(). Owing to the depreciation of the currency the entire stock 
of the College in 1770 was estimated at only ;^I2,923, of which ;^6i88 was specifically appro- 
priated ; the income in that \-ear amounted to ;^I5I3. the expenses to £\2--,\. In 1776 the 
resources were valued at ^16,444. 

Thus we see that even during the period when Harvard had every reason to look to the 
State for generous nurture and encouragement, the support from private benefactors exceeded 

1 See Eliot's History 0/ ffai-vard ColU(;i, pp. S7, SS. 


many times that bestowed by the State with a niggardly and begrudging hand. This fact, so dis- 
creditable to the Legislature, furnishes, nevertheless, the best proof that the institution had taken 
deep roots in the respect of the community; and that, in spite of political and theological con- 
troversies, which sometimes interrupted and sometimes dried up the stream of official bounty, 
there were always high-minded men and women who recognized the preciousness of the higher 
learning, and who gave liberally to help its dissemination. A University, like a circle of authors 
or painters, which depends upon the fa\or of a prince or a parliament, may flourish for a time; 
to be permanent, howe\er, it must have no patron but the public, which has no party or personal 
interests to serve, and onlv desires the untrammelled propagation of the best knowledge and 
the highest culture. 

In December 1781, tlie Rev. Joseph W'illard was elected to succeed President Langdon. 
He was embarrassed from the outset b}- the financial status of the College. In 1773 John 

Hancock had been chosen 
the most popular and in- 
chusetts. Having inher- 
years before, the largest 
amassed up to that time 
given to the College about 
" elegant carpets " and 
to. He was, moreo\-er, 
party, generally popular 
and very ambitious. No 
believed that the\- would 
funds of the College to a 
so conspicuous ; but the\- 
liancy in politics is not 
punctuality and wisdom 
than a year elapsed, but 
ment of his accounts, and 
gladly ha\-e asked him to 
afraid of incensing him. 


Treasurer when he was 
fluential man in Massa- 
ited, from his uncle, a few 
fortune that had been 
in New England, he had 
^£550 for books, and the 
wall-paper before referred 
the leader of the patriotic 
except with the Royalists, 
doubt the Corporation 
do well in entrusting the 
man at once so rich and 
soon learned that bril- 
alwa\s accompanied by 
in money matters. More 
Hancock made no settlc- 
the Corporation would 
resign had they not been 
President Langdon sent 

him a letter urging a statement; then a second letter, yet no answer came. To a third request, 
Hancock replied that he was " busily engaged," but would " soon appoint a day to attend to 
business." The Corporation met, but the Treasurer did not appear. Then they sent a formal 
communication to him, stating their " unhappiness at being disappointed as to the promised 
setdement; the\- knew his patriotic exertions in his country's cause, and were willing to allow 
much for this plea of delay; but it was their duty to be solicitous for the seminary; they were 
accountable to the 0\'erseers and the world." They requested further that the papers of the 
College might be left with them during his absence; "otherwise all will be in confusion." 
Hancock was soon to go to Philadelphia to attend the Congress. A messenger was accordingly 
despatched to Concord, where he was, to ask him to deliver " the mone\-s, bonds and other 
papers belonging to the College treasury." Hy this messenger the following answer was 
returned : " Mr. Hancock presents his compliments to the Rev. President and the other gentle- 
men who were present yesterda)- at the meeting, and acquaints them that he has at heart the 
interest of the College as much as an\- one, and will pursue it. He is much surprised and 


astonished at tlic contents of the President's letter, as well as at the doings of the gentlemen 
present, which he very seriously resents ; and however great the gentlemen ma}- think the 
burden upon his minil nia\- be, Mr. Hancock is not disposed to look upon it in that light, nor 
shall the College suffer any detriment in his absence, as he has already determined those matters ; 
but if the gentlemen choose to make a public choice of a gentleman to the disjjlacing him, they 
will please to act their pleasure. Mr. I lancock writes in great hurry, being much engaged, but shall 
write very particularly, or be at Cambriilge in person as soon as the Congress rises. Me leaves 
all his matters in the hands of a gentleman of approved integrity, during his absence, which he is 
not disposed to alter, and pcradventure his absence ma}- not be longer than a vo}'agc to Machias." 
The Corporation evidently got small comfort from this reply. .Another year passed ; still they 
did not dare to remove the obstinate Treasurer, who persistently neglected his duties. They 
t<i<>k measures to collect their rents and the earnings of the I"err\', but went no further. 

In 1776, Hancock being then in Philadelphia, the I'rcsidenl wrote him a \cr}- humble 
letter setting forth the embarrassed condition of the College; he remained silent. To a 
second entreaty he replied that he had just sent a messenger " in a light w-agon, with orders 
to bring all his books and papers across the country to Philadelphia from Boston," in order 
that he might arrange them. So the personal [)ropert\- of llar\ard was transferred to the 
Quaker cit}-, where it remained till the following }-ear, when the Corporation, having recei\'ed 
no account, and being alaniietl for the safet}- of the securities, despatched Tutor Hall to 
bring them back. But Hancock, although he let them go, would neither settle nor resign. 
Another communication, co\-cring twentv'-eight quarto pages, did not move him, if, indeed, 
he ever read it. .\l last, after much hesitation, with the concurrence of the Overseers, the}- 
elected (Jul}- 14, 1 777), ICbenezer Storer, to supersede in the Treasurership, "the Honorable 
John Hancock, whose emplo}-ment in the American Congress una\oidably prevents his 
attending to the business of that office." 

Hancock regarded this action as a personal insult, .uul never forga\e it, but during the 
remainder of his life he continued to wreak his resentment on the College, b}- the same spiteful 
and embarrassing methods. The Corporation made more than one effort to conciliate him, 
requesting, for exam[)le, lh;il he would permit his portrait to be painted at their expense " and 
placed in the philosoph}- chamber, b}- that of his honorable uncle." In 1779 it was \-otetl to 
jnit in suit the bond which he had filed on his appointment as Treasurer, but this vote was 
reconsitlered. The folk)\\ing )-ear he was elected Governor of Massachusetts, a position he 
filled continuousl}- till 1785, and the Corporation sang another tune in a complimentary address 
in which they expressed " their ha])piness that a gentleman is placed at the head of the ("icn- 
eral Court and of the Overseers, who has given such substantial evidence of his lo\e of letters 
and affection to the College, by the generous and repeated benefactions with which he hath 
endowed it." Blandishments, however, were as futile as threats: Hancock knew his power, 
and gratified his vindictive spirit by using it. In 1783 the Overseers determined to force an 
issue; but at their very next meeting Hancock presided, and they quailed before him. Then, 
as if to tantalize them further, he promised to bring in a statement; but w-hcn the time came 
he postponed it. I-'inally, on I-'ebruary 10, 1785, Treasurer Storer was able to report that Gov- 
ernor Hancock had made a final settlement of his accounts, by which it appeared that he still 
owed the College ;^I054. This balance he delayed to pa}-; nor could the College, whether b\- 
entreaty or by threatening to resort to law. get it from him. He died in October 1793 and 
two years later his heirs made a pa}-ment of nine }-ears' interest. The i)rincipal was paid six 


or seven years afterwards, but without compound interest, " whereby the College loses upwards 
of $526." The motives of this disgraceful conduct seem not hard to explain. Hancock was 
doubtless flattered by his election to the Treasurership ; but he had no experience as a finan- 
cier, and was soon drawn into the more exciting political life in which he shone, but which 
caused him to neglect his duties as Treasurer. When his neglect became apparent, through 
the respectful intimations of the Corporation, his vanity was piqued, and thenceforth, feelinc 
secure of his public position, he determined to punish them by systematic harassing and delaj-s. 
That he needed the College funds, or di\-erted them temporaril)- to his own use, was never 
charged, for his private fortune was so great (^70,000) that he could have setded his account 
in full at any time that he had chosen. But to ambitious men of a certain calibre, all the glory 
and honor they derive from success in work for which they are fitted do not atone for the pangs 
their pride suffers when they ha\-e been found negligent or incompetent in work undertaken by 
them without proper qualification. 

While this unseemly and annoying conflict was in progress, the College was engaged in a 
financial struggle with the Legislature. Harvard had loyall}^ converted its funds into currency 
early in the Revolution, but before the War closed the currency had depreciated so far that it 
required seventy-five dollars in paper to purchase one dollar in gold. In 1777 the fees for 
tuition were increased in order to make good the diminishing salaries of the instructors; and 
in 1780 the Legislature was petitioned to supplj- by grants the constantly growing deficit. 
Then followed a memorial asking the General Court to pledge itself to pay to the President a 
permanent and adequate salary; but the Court refused, preferring to keep that officer depen- 
dent upon it, for irregular and uneven grants. It appropriated ^^300 for the first year of Presi- 
dent Willard's term. The Corporation next endeavored to equalize the salaries of Professors, 
b}' assessments on the students; and the rents of Massachusetts Hall were doubled (to ;£^I20) 
for the benefit of the President. The Legislature continuing stingy, another petition was pre- 
sented, which brought from it (Jul}' 1783) grants of ^^^156 for the President, and of about 
;£^ioo each for the Professors of Divinit\% Mathematics and Oriental Languages, but these grants 
were no longer " gratuitous," but " on account of services done, and to be done, he (the gran- 
tee) to be accountable for the same," an intimation which the beneficiaries regarded as omi- 
nous.^ The position of the President and Professors became precarious, so that the Corporation 
authorized the Treasurer to lend them money at interest, until the Legislature should fulfil its 
pledges. But this the Legislature never did ; its last subsidy to the President and Professors 
was on May 31, 1786, when it appropriated iJ'480 for the former, and upwards of ;^240 to each 
of the latter. These sums enabled them to setdc their indebtedness to the Treasurer, but left 
no provision for the future. The next j-ear the Treasurer reported that during the past decade 
the College had suftered a clear loss of .£^1 3,702 6s. 2d. But the Court gave no relief, and in 
February 1791, voted that it was inexpedient to make any grants to College officers. A final 
effort was made in the following Januar}' to bring the Court to terms; it was shown that more 
than ;^3000 had been loaned to the President and Professors, and it was prayed that the College 
be reimbursed ; this last appeal, however, was treated like its predecessors, and thenceforth the 
Corporation assunied the responsibility of providing in full the officers' salaries. The notes due 
for advances were cancelled. Happily, through the skilful management of Storer, the Treas- 
urer, and of James Bowdoin and John Lowell, the financial resources of the College had gradu- 

' At this time the College lost the revenue from the Bridge (1785). The Legislature required the grantees of 
Charlestown Ferry, by the building of the Charles River the bridge to p.iy the College an annuity until 1S26. 



ally been aiigmcntctl. The iinesinieiits, made in uncerlaiii limes, proved lucrative, and in 1793 
the Treasurer's report stated that the personal estate amounted to $182,000, of which about 
$8j,OOD were appropriated for special purposes. I'liat was the first \ear in which the English 
s>steni of reckoning was dropped, and the American adoi)ted. We ha\e now arrived at a 
period, therefore, when the College had to depend upon itself, but when the State, while re- 
fusing monetary support, still arrogated the right of siipervisional control. But, as this was 
the fu-st step towartl the ultimate emancipation of ilarxartl tidm all political control, we see 
now that the gain far exceeded the sacrifices which it temporaril}' ilemanded. 

The administration of Willard coincided with other changes which proved beneficial to 
the develojjment of the College. The standard of scholarship was raised; the Medical School 
was founded on \cry humble beginnings; four professorshi])s {K. Ilersey, y\lford, ,\. 1 ferscy 
and 1-Irving) were ;idded to the foundations; the system of discipline was remodelled. The 

graduating classes be- 
clusi\e, averaged fort\', 
one members, the largest 
In October ijyo, the Col- 
\isit from President Wash- 
an address from the Cor- 
the prosperous condition 
and ho|)ed that the muses 
quil residence within the 
President Willard 
and ncarl)- two \-ears 
cessor, the Rev. Samuel 
of Mathematics, was 
the office h.ul been offered 
LiNinan. so dw as I ha\c 
to the Presidency of liar- 
Mr. Webber came into 
of a new religious con- 
which were he.ird fir 


twccn 1781 and 1804, in- 
that of 1804 having sixty- 
number uj) to that time, 
lege was honored by a 
ington, who, in reply to 
poration, complimented 
ol the " literary re[)ublic," 
might long enjoy a tran- 
walls of this Uni\-ersity." 
died in September 1804, 
elapseil before his suc- 
Webbcr, Mollis Professor 
elected. In the interim 
to Fisher Ames, the first 
learned, who was clectetl 
vard,' — but he declined, 
office just at the outbreak 
troversy, the echoes of 
down the present century. 

It is the inherent nature of sects to become diversified ; some members clinging rigidh' to 
the letter of their creed and to tradition, while others mo\e on to larger interpretations. 
Mid\va\- between these factions oscillate the moderates, who licild some of the views of each 
but do not approve of the extremes of cither. Presb_\terianism in New England was, at the 
beginning of the nineteenth century, on the \erge of a new disintegration ; the members of 
the ad\-anced part_\-. carrying freedom o{ in([uiry to its logical conclusion, were beginning to 
be known as L'nitarians, whom the conservatives looked upon with abhorrence as no better 
than skeptics or atheists. The line of demarcation was clearly defined in the controversy 
over the election of a successor to the chair of Di\'inity, which was left vacant b}- the death 
of Dr. Tappan in 1804. The Corporation elected the Rev. Henrj' Ware, of Hingham, whose 
views were then deemed radical. He was stoutly resisted. The orthodox declared that 
"soundness and orthodoxy" were the requisites demanded by Hollis of the candidates to this 
Professorship; that "soundness and orthodoxy" were to be found among Calvinists onl\- ; and 

' President I.evercU hail tilted fur llie ministry, but had no parish. 


tliat the candidate should submit to an examination of faith. Dr. Ware's supporters replied 
that such an examination- " was a barbarous rehc of inquisitorial power, alien alike from the 
genius of our government and the spirit of our people ; that the College had been dedicated 
to Christ and not to Calvin — to Christianity and not to sectarianism; that HoUis, though agree- 
ing with Cah'inists in some points, was notoriously not a Calvinist; and that, by his statutes, 
he prescribed the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament as the rule of his Professor's faith, 
and not the Assembly's Catechism." At last Dr. Ware's election was concurred in by the 
Overseers (May 1805), but it caused so great annoyance to the orthodox, that Dr. Pearson, 
Hancock Professor of Hebrew, resigned (March 1806), gi\ing as his reason that "events dur- 
ing the past year having so deeply affected his mind, beclouded the prospect, spread such a 


gloom over the University, and compelled him to take such a view of its internal state and 
external relations, of its radical and constitutional maladies, as to exclude the hope of render- 
ing any essential service to the interests of religion by continuing his relation to it." His 
resignation was accepted by the Overseers who stated that " they are not apprehensive the 
University is in so unfortunate a state as he has represented." 

In 1 780 the original Stoughton Hall, which was situated at right angles to Massachusetts 
and Harvard, in front of the present site of University Hall, had to be demolished on account of 
its deca}' ; but, w ith the increased number of students another dormitory was needed. This, the 
present Stoughton, was erected in 1805 at the expense of the College. The Corporation then 
petitioned the Legislature for assistance to repair Massachusetts and other buildings, and, in 
1806, permission was granted to them to raise $30,000 b>' lotter\-. From the proceeds of this 
lottery ($29,000) a new hall was built, at the cost of $24,000, and, on its completion in 1S13, it 



was called after Sir Matthew Holwortli)-, to whom the College was indebted for the largest single 
benefaction it had received in the seventeenth century (^lOOO sterling). In 1806, John Oiiincy 
Adams was appointed first Boylston Professor of Rhetoric and Orator)-. 

Signs of a more liberal spirit in religion were now rapidly multiplying in New England, and 
its effect was soon felt at Harvard. The election of James Bowdoin to the Corporation in 1792 
may now be looked upon as an entering wedge, for he was the first lay l-"ellow (excepting pre- 
vious Treasurers, Professors or tutors) ever admitted to that body. Experience in his case 
suggested that a modification of the membership of the Board of Overseers would be desirable. 
The limitation of the original Charter to the magistrates and ministers of the Colony of 


Cambridge and five neighboring towns deprived the College of the services of suitable men; 
while the admission of the State Senate, b}- the Constitution of 1 780, created a considerable 
number of Overseers whose knowledge of and interest in the College were slight or perfunc- 
tory, whose term was brief and uncertain, and whose time was fully occupied with politics 
and legislation. In March 1810, therefore, an amendment was passed to the following 
effect: The Go\ernor, Lieutenant-Governor, Council, the President of the Senate, and Speaker 
of the House of Representatives, and the President of the College, for the time being, with 
fifteen ministers of Congregational Churches, and fifteen laymen, all inhabitants within the 
State, to be elected as provided in the Act, were constituted " the Board of Overseers of 
Harvard College." The fifteen la\'men were to be elected by the rest of the Board, which 
thus perpetuated itself The Legislature carefullj- respected the ancient privileges of the 
College, by providing that this Act should not take effect until the Corporation and Over- 



seers should accept it, which they did.' In July 1810, President Webber died, and was suc- 
ceeded by the Rev. John Thornton Kirkland, Pastor of the new South Church in Boston. 

Political partisanship then ran high, and, in 181 2, the Senate complained that it had been 
deprived by the recent Act of some of its privileges, and a bill to repeal it was introduced. The 
Corporation testified that the College had been benefited b\- the change, but the Act was re- 
pealed and the previous one restored in 18 12. The Corporation insisted that since the Act of 
1 8 10 had become valid only b\- their consent and that of the Overseers, it could not be annulled 
without their approval. The Overseers waived all opinion as to the Act of 181 2 until the 
Supreme Court should pass upon it. They organized according to the Act of i8iO, and another 
Board organized according to the Constitution of 1780; the latter body, however, exercised the 
functions oi de facto Overseers until February 1814, when, a change of parties in the control of 












the State Government ha\ing taken place, the Act of 18 10. with the addition that the Senate 
should in future form part of the Board, was restored, and approved, and it remained in \-igor for 
nearl}- forty years. 



THE Presidency of Kirkland witnessed the e.xpansion of Har\ard from a College into a 
University, by the creation of several departments, or schools, in addition to the 
Academic department. Of these — the Medical School, the Divinit}- School, and the Law 
School — some account will be gi\en later. l-"i\e Professorships were founded, or for the first 

' The Corporation agreed to the .\ct March 16, iSio; the Overseers concurred .\pril 12 



time filled, during Kirkland's tenii. Tiie College received its last subsidy from the State, which, 
ill 1.S14, appinpriatcd a bank tax amounting to $10,000 annually for ten )cars "for the encour- 
agement of literature, [)iet\\ morality, and the useful arts and sciences," w ith the restriction that 
a fourth part of tiiis annual sum should go " towards the partial or total reduction of the tuition 
fees of such students, not exceeding one-half the whole number of an_\- class, who ma}- apply 
therefor, according to the jutlgment of the Corporation." Of the unencumbered moneys, up- 
wards of $21,400 were devoteil to the building of the Medical School. In 1815 University Hall, 
designed b)' the eminent architect Hultinch, was completed at an expense of $65,000, partly 
paid from un- ^^^^^^^^^^^^___^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^_ appropriateil funds 

College might ^^^^^^^^^K "^H ^^^^^^^H ''"^'^ '" ^I'>^^<>ehu- 

to ^^^^^^B u^ "ISII^^ ^^^^^■kI of $12,000 />rr ^;/- 

to ^^^H^B J ^^^^ ^^^^^^^H 

the further r^'^*^ " ^^m 1^^ J^C ^^^^^^^1 lil)erali/ing of the 

membership of the '\ ^H V^~^ y^^^ ^^^^^^^1 "'^ 

seers, by declaring; ^^k ^*HtKr ^^^L ^^^^^^I '^" 

the ministers of any ^K ^W^ ^^^^^^flHiiiH Christian Church, 

of de- ^K M/ ^^I^^^^^^^.J^H 

Vh^'^^^^^^^^^H^^^^^^^H^^I Oxerseers 

^^^^^^^^^r^^^^fiU^^^^^^^^^^I bled to 

favor- ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^F^ ^^1 able 

amend- !^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^B^^^^^|flH nient 

Massachusetts de- feateil itljN-""! n^ 

votes in the nega- tive, to 8,020 in the 

affirmative. All clergymen who did not belong to Congregational Churches still remained, 
therefore, under the ban. 

Kirkland's .ulminislration was earl_\- successful, in part owing to his energy and wisdom, and 
in part owing to the remarkable body of men who, as members of the Corporation, assisted him 
with their counsel and support.' Previously to this time " the duties of President," says Ouincy, 
" were limited to performing devotional services morning and evening in the chapel ; expounding 
some portion of Scripture, or delivering some religious discourse, ' at least once a month ; ' pre- 
siding at meetings of the Corporation and Immediate Government [College Faculty] ; acting as 

' From among the Fellows at this time (i.Sio-30), I would mention Theophilus Parsons, John Lowell, Jnhn Phillips, 
Christopher Gore, William I'rescntt, Harrison Gray Otis, Joseph .Story, Nathaniel Bowditch, William Ellcry t:hanning 
and Charles Lowell. 



recording officer of each of these bodies ; and executing such duties as were specifically assigned 
to him, usually as chairman of a committee. The general superintendence of the seminary, the 
distribution of its studies, the appointment of tutors in case of any sudden vacancy, and in short 
all the executive powers relative to discipline and instruction, when not exercised by the Cor- 
poration itself, were carried into effect by the President, Professors and tutors, constituting a 
board denominated ' the Immediate Government.' In this board the President always stood in 
the relation oi primus inter pares, without other authority than that of a double vote, in case of 
an equivote." In 1811 and 1812 the Corporation granted to the President larger powers; 
authorizing him " from time to time to make such regulations respecting the instruction and the 
government of the students as he shall think reasonable and expedient, which regulations shall 

UNrvERsrrv hall 

have the force of law.s till the same be disallowed by the Corporation and Overseers;" but he 
could not alter an\- punishment or mode of inflicting the same. Ur. Kirkland used this enlarged 
authority very sparingly, and, so far as the records show, he never exercised it without consult- 
ing the Faculty; but, during the latter part of his administration he was embarrassed by dis- 
content which manifested itself both inside and outside of the Faculty, and sprang from various 

In the first place, the old quarrel concerning who was eligible to be a Fellow was revived. 
In 1806, on the resignation of Professor Pearson and the election of Chief Justice Parsons to the 
Corporation, that body contained, for the first time in its historw no member of the Faculty 
(except the President) ; and as successive vacancies were filled b\- non-resident Fellows, the 
Faculty began to surmise that a precedent had been established against the election of any of 
their number in the future. In 18:23 th(,-_\- protested against the disposition " to degrade them to 
VOL. 1.— 6 



the rank of ministerial officers, and to subject them to the discretionary government of an hidi- 
vidual," and the\- attributed the unsatisfactory condition which the>- thought existed in tiic Col- 
lege to the fact that thev- had no representation in the Corporation. Learning the details of the 
controversy which had raged concerning I'ellows a hundred \ears before, they " came to the 
conclusion that residence was originally a qualification for Fellowship, and that, conformabl}- to 
the Charter, the Corporation ought to consist oi Fellows — thai is, of resident officers of the Col- 
lege." The death of the Hon. John Phillips (1823) gave tliem the ojjportunity they desired, and 
they presented a memorial to the Corporation, setting forth their claims. This thrust a dilemma 
upon the Corpora- 

a member of the 
morialistswould in- 
was recognized as 
resident Fellows 
.seem to ha\e no 
office ; but if. on 
non-resident were 
I'hillips.the memo- 
that the policj- of 
ulty from repre- 
pcrsisted in. The 
their difficulties be- 
who immediately 
seers. The latter, 
resolved, that it did 
resident instructors 
right to be chosen 
Corporation ; that 
lows did not there- 
fices; and that it 
to express any 
ject of future elec- 
Charles Jackson, a 
soon afterwards 
some explanations 


tion : if it elected 
F.iculty, the nie- 
fer that tlieir claim 
just, .md the non- 
\\(_)uid thereby 
legal right to their 
the other hand, a 
chosen to succeed 
lialists woukl urge 
excluding the I'ac- 
sentalion was to be 
C()r])oration laid 
I'nic the petitiiitlers, 
addressed the Over- 
after deliberation, 
not appear that the 
had an_v e\clusi\e 
members of the 
non-resident I'el- 
Ibr forfeit tlieir of- 
was not expedient 
I >i)inion on the sub- 
tions. The Hi>n. 
non-resident, was 
nominated, and, 
having passed be- 

tween the Corporation and Overseers, he was confirmed. Thus was final!)' settled a dispute 
that had been settled in the same way a centurj- before. 

About this time also the impression spread that the " discii)line, instruction and morals" 
of the College needed correction. The Overseers accordingly appointed a committee of seven, 
of which Joseph Storj- was chairman, to investigate. In Ma\' 1824, the}' recommended \ari- 
ous changes, the principal being that the President should be accorded larger authority and 
should be relieved, as far as possible, from merelj- ministerial duties ; that Professors and 
Tutors should be divided into separate departments, each department to have at its heaii a 
Professor who should superintend its studies and instructors, " witli the pri\ilege of recom- 
mending its instructors to the Corporation for appointment ; " that a board of three persons, 
presided over by a Professor, should look after the discipline of each College Hall, a similar 



board to superintend students who lodged outside of the College, but no extreme punish- 
ment to be inflicted without the President's cognizance and approval ; that there be two 
classes of studies — those necessary for a degree and those which students might elect; that 
each class of students should be subdivided into sections for recitations, which should be 
"more searching than at present;" that students should take notes at lectures, and pass an 
annual examination ; that students should be admitted who did not wish a degree, but did 
wish " to pursue particular studies to qualify them for scientific and mechanical employment 
and the active business of life ; " that fines should be abolished, and records of conduct kept 
and sent quartcrl)- to students' parents ; that some officer should " \isit, every evening, the 
room of every student; " that no student under sixteen years of age should be admitted; that 
the expense of edu- 

reduced ; and that 
thority of the Ov'er- 
more efficient, the 
fessors to report to 
every winter. This 
met with strong op- 
Rev. Andrews Nor- 
(June lo, 1825) the 
a new code of laws, 
mediate Govern- 
ized to call itself 
University," with 
committees; the 
lie\-ed of his minis- 
charged with ex- 
ures of the Faculty, 
visitatorial power 
negative ; depart- 
students were clas- 
proficiency; the 
and Professors were 
a measure, on the 
persons not candi- 

were admitted to special stud\- ; examinations were 
fines were abolished and a scheme of punishment — 


cation should be 
the visitatorial au- 
seers should be 
President and Pro- 
them at a meeting 
position, led by the 
ton ; but at last 
Corporation passed 
in which the " Im- 
ment " was author- 
thc " faculty of the 
]iower to act by 
President was re- 
tcrial duties, was 
ccuting the meas- 
but was not granted 
nor independent 
ments were created ; 
sificd according to 
salaries of President 
made to depend, in 
numbcrof students ; 

dates for a degree 
made more frequent and vigorous; 
the various penalties of which were 
caution, warning, solemn admonition, official notice to parents, rustication and expulsion were 

A third difficulty arose during this decade from the state of the College finances. 
The institution had expanded rapidly, but in so doing its expenditures had exceeded its 
revenues. More power had been allowed to President Kirkland in the disposal of the m- 
come, and he had favored the passage of a law by which a tutor, after six years of satisfac- 
tory service, should be promoted to a Professorship, with an increased salary. The price of 
tuition was raised, one quarter, to fifty-five dollars per annum, and lest this should diminish 
the number of students the Corporation undertook to " assist meritorious students when 



unable to pay the aililitiona! tuition." Professors' salaries were also aucjmenud. 'I he grant 
frt>m the Le^'islature of $10,000 for ten \ears serveil, while it lasteil, to maintain tiiis more 
expensive s)-stem, although a large part of the grant was devoted, as has been said, to the 
erection of the Medical School and to other purposes. When this grant ceased, the number 
of students fell oft". Already clamors for retrenchment had been heard, but tlie Corporation 
hoped that the Legislatiue would continue its subsidies. When, however, it became evident 
(in iS:;4) that the Legislature would do no more, economy had to be rigidlv jjractised. 
The Treasurer's report for the >ear ending June 30, 1825, showed an excess of expenses 
over of ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ more than $4,000. 

com- ^^^^^^^^^H^^^^^^l^^^^^^^^^l "1^~ 

found no evidence 
then proposed 
trenchment, such 
I'rofessorsh \ps 
tion of more work 
The I'resitlent was 
his secretar}', 
transferred to the 
ticiary aid to stu- 
lege was cut oft", 
on appropriated 
from si.v to fi\c 
ciV//. The Treas- 
to submit e\er)- 
seers a statement 
tures, and he was 
make no pay- 
the sanction of 
these reforms the 
out, and " a foundation was laid for a prosperous 

teen years, anil 

of misuse ; the)- 

measures for rc- 

as the union of 

and the iniposi- 

vn instructors. 

asked to discharge 

whose duties were 

steward. Bene- 

dents frcm the 

funtls of the Col- 

and the interest 

fundswas reduced 

and one-half /<■/■ 

urer was required 

month tothe(.)\er- 

of his expendi- 

a u t h o r i z e d t o 

ments without 

that Hoard. l?.v 

annual deficit of the College was \\ipe( 

state of its finances" (182S). 

The students objected to the ordinance, referred to abo\e, b\- which thc\' were classified in 
sections according to proficiency, and their discontent was the cause of so frequent disorders, 
that the President ad\ised that the obnoxious law be rescinded; and this was done (1827) in 
all departments except that of Modern Languages. Shortly afterward President Kirkland, who 
had previoush' suffered a stroke of paralysis, presented his resignation. He went out of office 
with the personal good-will even of those who had most strenuously opposed some of his inno- 
\ations. Looking back upon his administration, we can gi\-c it the praise it merits. Kirkland 
was the first President to show, b)- his acts, that he recognized the distinction between a 




College and a Uni\ersit\- ; he showed that he believed that Harvard should and could fulfil the 
duties of a University; and he devoted all his energy towards her expansion. But he lacked a 
certain masterfulness, which alone could have given his acts immediate and fixed results. " He 
was a man of genius," says James Russell Lowell, " but of genius that evaded utilization. 
There was that in the soft and rounded (I had almost said melting) oudines of his face 
which reminded one of Chaucer. He was one of those misplaced persons whose misfortune 
it is that their lives overlap two distinct eras, and are already so impregnate with one that 
the\' can never be in healthy s\mpath}' with the other." Nevertheless, he was instrumental in 

the erection of 
original Medical 
sit)- and Ui\-init)- 
the addition of 
ships (Eliot, 
Smith and Dane) 
foundations of the 
His succes- 
(1829-45), pur- 
thc expansive 
down. The num- 
increased stead- 
of the graduating 
si.x, besides the 
schools. The 
August 1840, the 
University was 
$646,235.17, of 
only $1 56,000 
to the unreserved 
lege. In 1832 a 
building was com- 
pense of Nathan 
1788 had drafted 
which sla\'cr\' was 


Holworthy, the 
School, Univer- 
Hall ; and he saw 
five I'rofessor- 
Rumford, Royal 1, 
to the endowed 

sued, in general, 
ber of students 
il\-, the average 
class being fifty- 
members of the 
finances were 
prosperous. In 
capital of the 
estimated at 
which, however, 
could be applied 
use of the Col- 
L aw School 
pleted at the ex- 
Dane, — who, in 
the ordinance b\- 
forever excluded 

from the North-west, — and in 1839 the Library built from a legacy of Christopher Gore, at 
a cost of $73,000, was dedicated. In the latter year also William Cranch Bond transferred 
his whole apparatus to Cambridge, was appointed Astronomical Observer to the Universitv, 
and was installed in suitable buildings, for which a foundation was laid by subscription. 
The religious tendency at this time was towards liberalism. Unitarian doctrines of what now 
seems a mild type had spread throughout Massachusetts and were supposed to have their 
nurser\- at Harvard ; but so conservati\e and timorous was the majority at the College 
that when Ralph Waldo Emerson delivered an address before the Divinity students (July 15. 
1838), the College authorities and the public were alarmed at the boldness of his ideas, which 
some did not hesitate to say were subversive of religion and morals. Even the Rev. Henry 
Ware, Jr., felt obliged to declare that the prevalence of some of Emerson's statements "would 



tend to overthrow the nuthorit\- and influence of Christianit)." ' In 1834, tlic Legislature 
passed an Act entitling; clergymen of an_\- denomination to stand as candidates for Over- 
seers, but this ilid not go into operation imtil 1843. 

The most important academic event during Ouincy's term was the celebration, on the 
8th t)f September, 1836, of the two hundredth anniversary' of the founding of Harvard. A 
pavilion of white canvas was erected in the College grounds, near the present site of the 
Librar}-, coxering l8,CXX) square feet, being 150 feet long and 120 feet broad; and supported 
in the centre by a ])illar 65 feet high, and on the sides b}' 44 shorter pillars. lC\ergreens 
and flowers deco- ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ the pillars; 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^1 to 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ on 

to ^^^^^^^Hf Jj^^^^^^^^l 

the On ^^^^^^^^^L ^*^ /' .^^^^^^^^^1 

the a ^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^ffeu^^^^^^^^l 

^^^^^^^■^ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^L con- 

^^^^^■^ J^^K ^^^^^^^^^B|^ un- 

thc ^^^^^^Ik^^^B- ^^^^^^^^I 

^^^^^^^^^^^^■bMi|jJMH||M||^^^^^^H throp 
wards Speaker of the National House 

-^f P„,,..«o.,„«.o CHRI.STOPHER GORE . ,• c- 1 

ot Kepresenta- « tives; Samuel 

I'^mcry, of the Class of 1774, headed the line of graduates, the oldest li\-ing graduate, Judge 
Wingate (Class of 1759), being unable to attend. The procession marched to the Congre- 
gational Church, where Dr. Ripley "offered a solemn and fervent prayer;" then was sung 
"Fair Harvard," an ode written for the occasion by the Rev. Samuel T. Oilman (Class of 
1819); after which "President Quincy commanded, during two hours, the attention of the 
audience." The services over, the procession moved to the pavilion, where 1500 persons 
partook of dinner. Edward Everett, the President of the day in the absence of H. G. Otis, 
began the speech-making, and was followed by ex-President Kirkland, Dr. Palfrey, Justice 
Story, Dr. J. C. Warren, Chief Justice Shaw, Governor Levi Lincoln, Daniel Webster, Leverett 
Saltonstall, Josiah Ouincy, Jr., Robert C. Winthrop and other distinguished speakers, until 

* J. E. Cabot; Memoir 0/ Ralph IVnIdo Emerson, i, 33 


eight o'clock in the evening, w hen the assembly was " adjourned to meet at this place on 
the 8th of September, 1936." The yard and buildings were then "brilliantly illuminated 
by the students, at the expense of the Corporation. The name of each of the College 
halls appeared in letters of light, together with the dates of their erection, and appropriate 

During Quincy's term the old Congregational Church, which stood near where Dane 
Hall now stands, was taken down (1833): the land belonging to it was added to the Col- 
lege enclosure, and the new church (now the First Unitarian) was erected. Four Profes- 
sorships were founded by private benefactors in the University, viz.: Natural History (Fisher), 
History (McLean), Eloquence (Farkman), Astronomy and Mathematics (Parkman). A fund 

purchase of books for the 

was also subscribed for the 
new Library. President 
1845, leaving behind him 
been " the Great Organizer 
He was succeeded by 
whose varied achievements 
had qualified him, it was 
idl}' expanding L^ni\ersity. 
ser\ice he resigned, having 
pett_\- duties which were 
dent, from the oversight 
in a pew of the Chapel to 
son on an occasion of ccre- 
his flesh and blood could 
brief term, he furthered 
College House ( 1846), the 
the Lawrence Scientific 
during his administration, 
of Anatomy (Parkman), 
sources of Har\-ard were 
its needs, and in 1849 the 
an appropriation ; but to 


Ouincy resigned in August 
the reputation of having 
of the University." 
the Hon. I-^dward Everett 
in politics, and literature 
thought, to direct the rap- 
But after three years of 
found that the innumerable 
then thrust upon the Presi- 
of " the spots on the carpet 
the reception of the King's 
monv." were " more than 
stand." Yet, during his 
the interests of Harvard. 
Observatory (1846) and 
School ( 1848) were added 
and one Professorship, that 
was founded. The re- 
still quite inadequate to 
State was petitioned for 
no purpose. The annual 

income from funds applicable to the College was but $26,633, whereas the expenses amounted 
to more than $40,000, so that the deficienc}- had to be made up from the tuition fees of 
the students, the fee being then (1848) $75.^ Some persons interested in the College 
objected strongly to the efforts to convert it into a University — this tide had been formally 
adopted by President Everett — declaring that the real purpose of the institution should be 
to furnish a solid literar\- education, and not to provide mere smatterings in many depart- 
ments. One critic condemned the rage for extra\agance in buildings ; the new Librarx", he 
said, had cost $73,000, while the fund for supplying it with books was only $21,000; whence 
he inferred that the Corporation set a value of seventy-three on stone and mortar and 
of only twent>-onc on books. He protested also against increasing the cost of education, 
especially since Cambridge was an expensive place to live in.'-^ 

1 See S. A. Eliot's Slrh/i of Harvard College, p. Il6. 

- See article by Francis Boweii in the North Americut Rriiac, Jan. 1S50. 



At this time the constitution of the Board of Overseers became again the object of 
much discussion. Many alumni favored the complete separation of the College from the 
State, and proposed a new s_\stem of election, whereby the 0\crsccrs should be a rep- 
resentative instead of an fx officio bod\-. The full Hoard numbered eighty-three mem- 
bers — far too man}- for the speedy and efficient transaction of business. In 1850, a 
Committee of the Legislature investigated the College, and reported that it failed " to 
answer the just expectations of the people of the State," owing to the fact that its organ- 
ization and instruction were adapted to the conditions of a quarter of a century before. 
The next \ear an Act was passed remodelling the Hoard of ()\-ersccrs, which was to con- 
sist of " the Governor, Lieutenant-Governor, President of the Senate, and Speaker of the 
House of Representatives of the Commonwealth, the Secretary of the Hoard of Educa- 
tion, and the President and Treasurer of Har\ard College, for the time being, together 
with thirty other persons." 
were to be elected by the 
whose members was cligi- 
\ided into three classes of 
go out of office on the day 
ing of the General Court, 
be determined by lot." 
be wholl)' renewed in this 
\'ided into six classes of 
serve si.x years from the 
person was eligible for re- 
term immediateh' succeed- 
first elected. The .\cl hav- 
was concurred in b_\- the 
seers. This was a great 
ber of Overseers was re- 
limits, ami the number of 
now onK' five (not count- 

Thosc thirt)- otlur persons 
General Court, none of 
ble ; they were to be di- 
tcn each, the first class to 
of the next annual mcet- 
" and so on in rotation, to 
After the Hoard should 
manner, it was to be di- 
fi\c each, each class to 
dale of its election. No 
election for more than one 
ing that lor which he was 
ing been passed in 185 1, 
Corporation and ( )\cr- 
step in advance ; the num- 
duced within reasonable 
its ex officio members was 
ing the President and 
Treasurer). But the pernicious influence of politics was still felt in the election of the 
Overseers by the Legislature. Part)- intrigues and preferences, which should have no weight 
in an institution consecrated to Truth, — which has never been the chief concern of politicians, 
— often determined the success or defeat of candidates, who were nominated in party cau- 
cuses at the State House. A bill was therefore introduced in the Senate in 1854, to take 
the election out of the Legislature and to entrust it to the alumni of the College, but this 
bill was not enacted. The .scheme of 1854, by which State interference was to be abolished, 
depended on the raising of a fund of $200,000, the income from which, in sums of $100. 
was to be devoted to the assistance of one hundred worthy students. 

The emancipation of Harvard from sectarian control, preceded its emancipation from 
the State. In 1834, the Legislature passed an Act making clergymen of an_\- denomin.ition 
eligible to election to the Hoard of Overseers; previously, only Congregational clergymen 
were eligible. The Corporation and the Board of Overseers, whose assent to this act was 
required to make it valid, did not give their assent till 1843. /Since that date, therefore, 
discrimination on account of religion has had no legal sanction. 

EDWARD E\] I i 1 I 



The internal affairs of the College progressed but slowly during the decade 1850-60. 
Jared Sparks, the historian, was President from 1849 to 1853, and was followed by the 
Rev. James Walker (1853-60). The Elective System, of which an account will be found 
elsewhere, was not encouraged ; but the efforts to improve discipline and to check hazing 
were vigorous, and the standard of learning was perceptibly raised. Three Professorships 
were endowed, one of Astronomy (Phillips, 1849); one of Christian Morals (Phimmer, 
1855), and one of Clinic (Jackson, 1859). Appleton Chapel was erected in 1858, and 
the (Old) Gymnasium in i860. Mr, Everett was the last I'resident to live in VVad.s- 
worth House ; President Sparks dwelt at the corner of Ouincy and Kirkland Streets, and 


President Walker at No. 25 Ouincy Street. In i860, a fund given by Peter C. Brooks in 
1846 had accumulated sufficiently to pa}- for the erection of a new residence for the 
President. Doubtless the important addition to the University during this period 
was due to the energy and genius of Professor Louis Agassiz. by whom valuable collec- 
tions in natural history had been patiently made, and through whose enthusiasm money 
was raised for the erection of the first division of the Museum of Comparative Zoolog)' 
in 1859. 

Professor Cornelius Conway Felton, eminent as a Greek scholar, was elected 
President in i860, upon the resignation of Walker, and served until his death, m 1862, 
being succeeded by the Rev. Thomas Hill. This was a gloomy crisis in the history of 
the nation, and Harvard did not escape from its effects. The cost of living was con- 



siderably increased owing to the Civil War ; nescrtheless, the number of students did 
not diniinisli to the extent that mi_^ht have been expected. The number of Seniors 
upon whom degrees were conferred between 1850 and 1859, averaged 82. Tlie Class of 
i860 graduated 1 10 — the largest uj) to that date; 1861, 81; 1862, 97; 1863, 120; 
1864, 99; 1865, 84. Presiileiu I nil's administration is memorable on two accounts; he 
initiated changes in the methods of instruction with a view to convert the College into 
a Universit)-, and he witnessed the final severing of the College from all interference by 
the State. On .April 26, 1865, the Legislature passed a bill providing for the election of 
Overseers b_\' " such persons as have receivetl from the College a degree of Bachelor of 
Arts, or Master of .\rts, or an>' honorarj- degree." The voting was fixed between the 
hours of ten .\. M.. and ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^m|mh four M. at Cambridge, 
on Commencement Da\' ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H^^^^^^^^^l no member the Cor- 

poration, officer of ^^^^^^^H^ |^H governmerit and instruc- 

tion was eligible as an ^ .^^H^v • Overseer, or was entitled 

to vote ; and Hachelors of ^^^^B ^^^^^^^B^^ "^""'^ were not allowed to 

vote until the fifth Com- ^^^^H 1 ^^^ mcncement after their 

graduation. The Hoard ^^IP^^.I^Mi^^,' ^^^^ of Overseers, as thus con- 

stituted, consists of the ^^m Wm ^K^ JH^^r President and Treasurer 

ex officio, and of thirty ^^1 ^^» 4!^^P members, divided into si.x 

classes of five members ^B Mte"^ ^i^^ each, ever)- class serving 

si.x j-ears. In case of a ^H W ---^' ^^^L. vacancv', the remaining 

Overseers can supply it ^H fej^jK^^^^^' '■'^ yo'i-H, the person thus 

elected being "deemed to ?*"'* '^i^^^^^V^ '-"-' ^ member of and to go 

out of office with the class *^TPBIi^Y to which his predecessor 

belongs." Among the |H other notcworth)- events 

of President Hill's term were the building of Grays 

Hall (1863), and the in- troduction of a series of 

University Lectures (1863) by specialists. These 

courses, rather popular in tluir nature, were open to 

all members of the Uni- versity, and to the public 

on the payment of five dollars. The Academic 

Council, composed of the Professors and A.ssistant Professors in the various Faculties, 
was founded with a view to suggest the subjects to be lectured upon and to recommend 

Chapter V 

FRn>r College to Umversitv, 1865- 1897 

PRKSIDENT HILL resigned September 30, 1868: Charles William FJiot (Class of 1853), 
at that time a member of the Board of Overseers, was chosen to succeed him, May 19, 
1869. President Eliot's administration, which has now extended over twenty-eight years, has 
been unquestionably the most memorable in the history of the University. Changes more 
numerous and more radical have been wrought than in any previous period of the same 

< i. 




length; and they liaw ati'cctcd most deeply not onl> llaixard itself, but the higher educa- 
tion of the whole counln . It is still too soon to pass hnal judgment on many of these 
changes, but it is not too soon to state that the_\- mail< the transformation of the College 
into a University. 

Harvard men may also take jjriile in the thought that during this period Harvarcl has held 
Iier primac}- among American colleges more surel\- than at any other time since ri\al colleges 
sprang up. Iler experiments ha\e been watched, her reforms have been first criticised and then 
imitated, her methods have been adopted, in a way that affords the surest proof of her leader- 

ship. Foremost 
changes at Har- 
ident ICliot's ad- 
the unreserved 
Klcctivc System, 
bornl)' opposed ; 
handed ilown from 
til at last they 
men. As a corol- 
untarj' attendance 
cises has been ac- 
graduates, the e.\- 
tried fust with 


/ 3- 


been completely 
course has been 
two years to three, 
has belli m;;de 
l)rogressi\e. .\ 
ment has been 
Medical School, 
was raised above 
in the country, 
has been fixed at 
;;n extra )ear for 
avail themselves 
ity School, long 
dissolution, has 

C. C. FF.r.TON 

among the radical 
\'ard during I'res- 
ministration, was 
adoption of the 
long and stub- 
its pri\ileges were 
class to class, un- 
reached the I'resh- 
lar}' to this, \-ol- 
at College e.xer- 
corded to under- 
periment being 
the Seniors in 
Law School has 
reorganized ; its 
lengthened from 
and its instruction 
methodical and 
similar improvc- 
e fleeted in the 
whose standard 
that of an_\' other 
and whose 
three \ears, with 
those who care to 
of it. The Di\in- 
on the verge of 
been resuscitated. 

and although it cannot yet be said to flourish, this is due to the general temper of the age in 
religious matters, rather than to the inadequacy of the facilities of the School itself. After 
repeated attempts the efficiency of the Scientific School has been enormously increased, until 
now that School needs onl_\- adequate endowment in order to take rank with the most flourish- 
ing departments of the University. The School of Veterinary Medicine, the Bussey Institution, 
the Arnold Arboretum, the transference of the Peabody Museum of American Archaeology and 
the Museum of Comparative Zoology to the College, arc landmarks in the extension of the 
University in different directions dining the past twenty years. More detailed information 
will be gi\en later, w hen we come to describe these branches separately. 



To this period belongs also another wise reform — the abolition of compulsory attendance 
at religious services. In 1869, the Faculty ceased to require those students who passed Sunday 
at home to attend Church, except as their guardians or parents desired; and it reduced the 
number of services to be attended by those who remained in Cambridge, from two to one. 
After much discussion and many petitions, attendance at prayers as well as at Sunday services, 
was left to the choice of the student. The old system of regulations was completely recast: the 
Faculty recognized that it had a more usefid work to perform than to inspect the frogs and 
buttons on the students' coats, or to fi.x the hour for going to bed. The decorum of the 
undergraduates has improved in proportion as their independence has widened. Hazing has 

disappeared, and 
disorder ha\e been 
at examination, 
ity of students 
when studies were 
almost passed 
ies ha\c been 
In 1869, the 
bitions, which used 
committee of the 
the College, were 
it was found that 
served their orig- 
stimulating thj 
dents. In the fnl- 
system of confer- 
students who had 
ful special cxami- 
one department 
or Mathematics — 
Sophomore or 
introduced. In 
demic Council was 
suggest candidates 
degrees, A.M., 
and these degrees 
value from the fact 


cases of serious 
rare. Cribbing 
which a major- 
deemed venial 
prescribed, has 
away, since stud- 

semi-annual exhi- 
to be held when a 
Overseers visited 
abandoned, since 
they no longer 
inal i)urpose of 
ambition of stu- 
lowing year the 
ring " honors" on 
passed a success- 
nation in simu- 
— as the Classics, 
at the end of their 
Senior year, 
1 S7 2, the Aca- 
remodellcd, to 
for the higher 
rh.D. and S.D.. 
acquired a real 
that the\- repre- 

sented a specified amount of graduate work. Before 1872 any graduate of three years 
standing could secure an A.M. by the payment of five dollars. Indeed, the policy of the 
University has been to abolish the old custom of conferring meaningless degrees. Even those 
which are purely honorary in their nature (LL.D. and D.D.) have been bestowed more spar- 
ingly. The \-enerable practice of conferring the degree of Doctor of Laws on the Governor for 
the time being of Massachusetts — a practice which arose when that dignitary was ex ojficio 
the President of the Board of Overseers — was broken up in 1S83, when Benjamin F.Butler 
was Governor of the Commonwealth, and it is probable that the precedent will nL\cr be 



The salaries of the teachers were raised in 1869 — that of Professors being fixed at $4006, 
that of Assistant Professors at $2500, and that of instructors at $1000; but these figures repre- 
sent the maximum, and not the average sums received in the respective grades. In 1890 the 
salaries of fifteen Professors and of the Librarian were raised from $4000 to $4500; those of 
four law Professors from $4500 to $5000; Assistant Professors, during their second five years' 
service, were to recei\'e $3000 instead of $2500, and some of tlie instructors liad a sligiit 
increase. Nevertheless, the sinaUness of Uni\'crsit_\' teacliers' stipends, when comparctl witli 


tiie income which successful doctors, lawyers and clergymen receive for intellectual work of 
relatively the same qualit}-, indicates that public sentiment still holds educators dangerously 
cheap. Fine dormitories, spacious halls, vast museums and costly apparatus do not make a 
Universit)' ; men, and onl}- men of strong intellect, of wisdom and spiritualit}', can make a 
Unix'ersity; and they can be secured only by paying them an adequate compensation. Until 
society recognizes that the ideal educator is realh' be_\-ond all price, it will go on suffering from 
evils and losses which a proper education might pre\ent. To lighten the work of the Har\ard 
Professors, the Corporation ha\'e granted them a leave of absence for one year out of every 
seven. Further, a subscription has recently been opened to a fund to provide a pension for 
those Professors who, after a long service, are incapacitated from either age or feebleness. In 
1872 the experiment of conducting " University Lectures " was found to be unsuccessful ; but it 
was still maintained with good results in the Law School till 1874. Summer courses in Chemis- 
try and Botany were offered to teachers and other students (1874), and they constantly grew in 
usefulness, so that similar courses in other departments have been added, and now the Summer 



School is attended by over 6oo students. In 1875, spring examinations for the University were 
held in Cincinnati, and this scheme, too, proved so beneficial that it has been extended to many 
other distant cities, and to some of the preparatory schools. In 1897, examinations for admis- 
sion to the Freshman Class were held in t\vent\-eight places outside of Cambridge, including 
Denver, San Francisco, Tokyo and Bonn. In 1875, ^^so Evening Readings, open alike to the 
public and students, were introduced ; and they were repeated from year to year. Latterly, 
more formal lectures. College Conferences, etc., have increased to such a number that there is 


rarely an evening when two or three are not in progress. Since 1883 the Boston Symphony 
Orchestra has given each winter a series of concerts in Sanders Theatre, so that the best music 
is within reach of the students. 

The method of instruction is now by lectures and not b\- recitations in all those courses 
where lectures can be given to greater advantage. The marking system — a survival from 
the old seminary days, when marks were sent home regularly every quarter — has been over- 
hauled and reduced to the least obnoxious condition. Formerly, the maximum mark for 
an>- recitation was eight; the students were ranked for the year on a scale of lOO, but, 
though the scale was the same, no two instructors agreed in their use Some were 
"hard" and some were "soft" markers; some frankly admitted that it was impossible 
to get within five or ten per cent, of absolute exactness; others were so delicately con- 
stituted that they could distinguish between fractions of one per cent. One instructor was 
popularly supposed to possess a marking "machine;" another sometimes assigned marks 
h-ss than aero. These anomalies were long recognized before a simple and more rational 



scheme was adopted, in 1886. "In each of their courses students are now divided into li\e 
groups, calletl A, H, C, D ami V.: V. being composed of those wlm lia\e not passed. To gradu- 
ate, a student must ha\ e [jassed in all his courses, and have stood above the group D in at least 
one-fourtii of his College work; and lor the \arious grades of the degree, honors, honorable 
mention, etc., similar regulations are made in terms of A, H, C, etc., instead of in per cents, as 
formerly." ' The inciease in the number of instructors in the \arious departments has also 
brought about what was first proposed in President Kirkland's time — the autonomy of each 
department over its own atiairs, subject, of course, to the approval of the Go\crning Boards. 


Examinations are now held twice a year, at the end of January and in June, lasting about 
twenty daj's at each period. The examinations, except in courses involving laboratory work, 
are nearly all written, of three hours' length each. President Kliot, then Tutor in Mathematics, 
was the first to introduce written examinations, in the course untler his charge, in 1854-55. 
Before that tests were oral. The College calendar was reformed in 1869, previous to which 
date a long vacation had been assigned to the winter months, chiefly for the benefit of poor 
students who partly supported themselves b\' teaching school for a winter term. As re- 
arranged, the College year extends from the last Thursday in September to the last Wednesday 
in June, with ten days' recess at Christmas and a week at the beginning of April. 

The remarkable expansion of the University since 1869 — to which expansion these changes 
bear witness — has been as great in material and financial concerns, as in policy. In 1869, the 

1 \V. C. l.anu in the Third Report (1887) of the Class of 1881. 


resources of Harvard amounted to $2,257,989.80, and the income to $270,404.63; in 1896, the 
capital was $8,526,813.67,. the income was $1,212,201.15; and the Cambridge assessors valued 
the untaxed property of the College in Cambridge at $9,216,964.59. Seven large dormitories 
have been erected, viz. : — Thayer Hall, the gift of Nathaniel Thayer, in 1870; Holyoke, erected 
by the Corporation, in 1871 ; Matthews Hall, the gift of Nathan .Matthews, and Weld Hall, the 
gift of William F. Weld, in 1872; Hastings Hall, the gift of Walter Hastings, in 1889; Perkins 
Hall, from the bequest of iNIrs. Catharine P. Perkins, in 1893-94; and Conant Hall, from the 
bequest of Edwin Conant, in 1893-94. An addition to the Library, by which its capacity was 


more than doubled, was completed in 1877, and in 1895 a new book-stack and large reading- 
room were constructed by a remodelling of the interior of Gore Hall. Austin Hall, the new 
Law School, was built from plans b\- H. H. Richardson in 1 883 ; the same architect designed 
Sever Hall (lecture and recitation rooms) in 1880. In 1871 a mansard roof was added to 
Boylston Hall, the Chemical Laboratory, which has received several subsequent improvements; 
and College House was enlarged during the same \-ear, when also the lecture-room and labora- 
tory of the Botanic Garden were completed. The Jefferson Physical Laboratory (for which 
Thomas Jefferson Coolidge was the chief contributor) was finished in 1883; that year the new 
Medical School in Boston was first occupied. The Museum of Comparative Zoology has grown 
b>- successive additions, the cost of which has been largely defrayed by Alexander Agassiz, until 
it now (1897) covers the two sides of the quadrangle originally proposed by Louis Agassiz; and 
on the third side the Peabod>- IMuseum of Archaeologj-, begun in 1876 and added to in 1S89, has 
almost reached the point of junction. The Bussey Institution ( 1870), the School of Veterinary 
Medicine (1883), the Library of the Divinit\- School (1887) and the Fogg Art Museum (1894) 

VOL. I. — 7 



arc furilicr monuments of President Eliot's administration. For athletic purposes several build- 
ings have been erected during this period: the University Boat House ( 1870) ; the Hemenway 
Gymnasium ^18/9) enlarged in 1896; the Weld Boat House (1890); the Carey Athletic 
Building (1890); the Locker Building on Soldier's Field, 1894. Two of the entrances to the 
College Yard have been provided with substantial gates, one given by Samuel Johnston (1890) 
and the other by George von L. Meyer (1892). The Foxcroft House was bought in 1888. The 
occupancy of the old Medical School by the Dental School, has involved building changes; as 
has the expansion of the Observatory, the Arnold .Irboretum and the Veterinary School. The 


establishment of an astronomical station at Arequipa, Peru (1891), should also be included in 
this list of recent increase in Universit}' buildings. 

One other edifice, Memorial Hall, deserves a more extended notice. In May 1865, a 
large number of graduates held a meeting in Boston to discuss plans for erecting a memorial to 
those alumni and students of Harvard who lost their lives in behalf of the Union during the Civil 
War. A Committee of eleven were appointed, consisting of Charles G. Loring, R. W. Emerson, 
S. G. Ward, Samuel Eliot, Martin Brimmer, H. H. Coolidge, R. W. Hooper, C. E. Norton, 
T. G. Bradford, H. B. Rogers and James Walker. At another meeting, in July, they presented 
a report, in which was the following resolution : " Resolved, That in the opinion of the graduates 
of Harvard College, a 'Memorial Hall' constructed in such manner as to indicate in its external 
and internal arrangements the purpose for which it is chiefly designed ; in which statues, busts, 


portraits, medallions and mural tablets, or other appropriate memorials may be placed, commemo- 
rative of the graduates and. students of the College who have fallen, and of those who have served 
in the army and navy during the recent Rebellion, in conjunction with those of the past bene- 
factors and distinguished sons of Harvard now in her keeping, — and with those of her sons who 
shall hereafter pro\-c themselves worthy of the like honor, — will be the most appropriate, en- 
during and acceptable commemoration of their heroism and self-sacrifice ; and that the construc- 
tion of such a hall in a manner to render it a suitable theatre or auditorium for the literary 
festivals of the College or of its filial institutions will add greatly to the beauty, digaity and effect 
of such memorials and tend to preserve them unimpaired, and with constantly increasing associ- 
ation of interest to future years." At Commencement this resolution was brought before the 


alumni. After considerable discussion, in which some speakers proposed that a simple monu- 
ment or obelisk would be more appropriate than a building, the matter was referred to a Com- 
mittee of Fift}-, which, on September 23d, reported in favor of a memoiial hall. Messrs. Ware & 
Van Brunt, architects, were requested to submit plans, which were formally adopted at the 
following Commencement. It was also voted that the biographies of the Har\ard men wlio 
served in the war be printed. Subscriptions were immediately solicited and the College con- 
veyed the land known as the Delta for the site of the new edifice. The corner-stone was laid 
October 6, 1870, with a praj-er by the Rev. Phillips Brooks, addresses b\- the Hon. J. G. Palfrey, 
the Hon. William Gra\-, the Hon. E. R. Hoar, a h\mn hx Dr. O. W. Holmes, and a benediction 
by the Rev. Thomas Hill. The dedication ceremonies took place July 23, 1874. The total sum 
raised was $305,887.54. Sanders Theatre, to whose erection was devoted the accumulations 



from a bequest by Charles Sanders (of the Class of 1802), was completed in 1876, in time to be 
used for the Commencement e.xcrcises of that \ear. The portraits and busts belonging to the 
College were placed in Memorial Hall, which has since been used b_\- the Dining Association. 


The response given b\' Har\ard men to the calls of patriotism and dut}' during the Civil 
War can best be illustrated by a simple table in which the number of graduates who enlisted 
is given in the first column and the number of those who lost their lives in the second: 


Medical School 

Law School 

Scientific School .... 

Divinity School 

Astronomical Observatory . 














As in 1861 there were 4100 and in 1866 about 5000 alumni living, it will be seen that more 
than twenty-five per cent, supported the maintenance of the Union, in the field. But this per- 
centage would be increased if it were possible to know exactly the number of non-graduates 
who likewise enlisted. Many of these soldiers of Harvard attained distinction; but it is possible 



to mention here only Colonel Robert Gould Shaw, who died leading the charge of his colored 
troops at Fort Wagner ; Colonel Charles Russell Lowell, one of Sheridan's ablest cavalry offi- 
cers, killed at Cedar Creek ; General W. F. Bartlett, often wounded but never willing to retire ; 
and Major-General Francis C. Barlow, the hero of the 'salient at Spottsylvania. 

Thus has the University augmented its resources during the past twenty-seven years. The 
gifts have been most generous, but as they have for the most part been designed by their donors 
for especial purposes, the unrestricted means at the disposal of the Corporation have not in- 
creased in proportion with the needs. Two curious bequests may be cited to show how unwise 
are benefactions subject to restriction. In 1716, the Rev. Daniel Williams left an annuity o{ £60 
for the support of two preachers among the "Indians and Blacks," and in 1790, Mrs. Sarah 


Winslow gave £ai6j in support of a minister and schoolmaster in the town of T\-ngsborough : 
the Treasurer of the College is still paying the income from these donations for the benefit of the 
nondescript Marshpee Indians and for the schooling of the children of Tyngsborough. The 
great fire in Boston in 1872 seriously aftected the revenue of the College, but the deficit caused 
thereby was made good by a subscription in response to an appeal which President Eliot put 
fortli. The only other untoward event was the burning of the upper part of Mollis Hall in 

It is impossible to specif)- more particular!}- the bequests which have enriched Har\-ard 
during the past two decades. The income now at the disposal of the College for beneficiary pur- 
poses amounts to more than %jo,000 per aiiiiiim — a sum sufficient to warrant the assertion made 
in the College Catalogue " that good scholars of high character but slender means are very 
rarel)- obliged to leave College for want of money." Nor can space be spared to enumerate the 



various prizes for essays, speaking, rcadinc;. etc., which are annuall\- awarded. Mention sliould 
bo made, however, of a few matters upon wliicli it would be pleasant to enlarge. In 1S70-71 
the Corporation negotiated with the Trustees of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology for 
the consolidation of the Institute with the Scientific Department at Harvard — the united insti- 
tution to be called the Technological School, and to have its seat in the Institute's building in 
Boston. After .several propositions and much dclibcratitin, however, the two bodies could reach 
no satisfactorj- agreemeiil, and the project was abandoned. An account of another .scheme — 
the admission of women to the privileges of the University — will be found on a later page. 


In 1880, an Act passed the Legislature amending the College Charter so as to allow persons 
who are not inhabitants of Massachusetts, but who are otherwise qualified, to be eligible as 0\'er- 
seers. This change was due to the fact that in New York there was a large body of alumni who 
wished to ha\'e a rcpresentati\-e on the Board of Overseers, and that in several other cities the 
alumni were alrcad\- numerous enough to call for recognition. In 1884, an Overseer was elected 
from Philadelphia; in 1891, Baltimore, and in 1892, Chicago, were added to the list of places 
outside of Massachusetts ha\'ing members in the Board. This extension of representation, re- 
flecting as it does the national influence of Harvard, has been accompanied by a movement to 
secure for graduates of all departments of the University the right to vote for Overseers. The 
Corporation and F"aculty are known to fa\or this reform, but on three occasions, when a \ote has 
been taken in the Board of Overseers, the conservatives have prevailed. Ne\ertheless, the 
obvious injustice of the present rule, which was framed at a time when the Professional Schools 



stood on a \ery different footing, and tiieir graduates had much less valid qualifications than at 
present, cannot prevail much longer. In 1889, the Legislature passed an Act authorizing the 
adoption of the Australian ballot in the election of Overseers. 

t IkM 


Here it may be well to gi\-e a few statistics, from which the remarkable recent expansion of 
the Universit)' can be more clearly seen : 




Undergraduates .... 



Graduate Scholars . 


Resident Graduates 



Divinity School . . 



Law School . . . 



Scientific School 



School of Mining . 


. . . 

^[edical School . . 



Dental School . . 



Bussey Institution . 

1 1 

Veterinary Department 


Non-resident Graduates 




University Courses .... 


. . . 

Summer Schools .... 




In 1869, the corps of instructors nuniborcd 84; in 1889, 394, besides 5 preachers, 14 
curators and library officers, and 34 proctors and other officers, a total of 434. The College 
Library in the former year had I2I,000 volumes, and the libraries of the other departments, 
63,000 volumes; in 1896 the College Library had 345.206 volumes, and 342-996 pamphlets, and 
the other departments had 128,721 volumes and 36,027 pamphlets. 

The Universit\- budget for the academic \ear 1895-96 should also be given, viz.: 






Divinity School 

Law School 

Medical School 

Dental School 

Museum of Comparative Zoology 


Bussey Institution 

James Arnold Fund .... 
Arnold Arboretum .... 
School of Veterinary Medicine 

Bussey Trust 

Price Greenleaf Fund . . . 
Gray Fund for Engravings . . 
Woodland Hill Fund .... 
Daniel Williams Fund 
Sarah Winslow F\uk1 .... 

Class Funds 

Huntington F. Wolcott F'und . 
John Witt Randall Fund . . 
Sundry Accounts 


?i 28,101.91 









































1 1-496-57 




Si, 2 12,201. 15 






The deficit here exhibited was caused by ad\ances made for the completion of the Fogg Art 
Museum and for alterations in Gore Hall, aggregating over $50,000. 

These striking statistics may serve as a skeleton to show the change in form and size of the 
L^niversit)' under President Eliot's regime ; but they must be amplified by some brief statements 
in order that the character of the change may be clearly understood. It is so common now to 
talk of the evolution of a College into a University that we are apt to suppose the process easy : 
Harvard's experience proves that it is \cry complicated and difficult. New schools and depart- 
ments cannot thrive if they are artificially joined to the parent institution: the\- must grow out 



of it, as limbs grow from the trunk of a tree, be fed with the same sap, and have the closest 
organic union with each other and their parent stem, while enjoying each its share of 

When President Eliot began his administration in 1869 no such organic relation between the 
parts existed : nor w ere the functions of the parent stem — the College, or Academic Department — 
consistentl)' ordered. One of President Eliot's first efforts was to .secure that financial centrali- 
zation without which scholastic and go\ernmental unity could not be looked for. The Medical 
School, for instance, had an independent treasur\-, and its Faculty felt so little responsibility to 
the Corporation that they were inclined to regard as an intrusion the attendance of the young 


President at their meetings. '"How is it? I should like to ask,' said one of our number the 
other evening, ' that this Facult\- has gone on for eighty \ears managing its own affairs and doing 
it well, — for the Medical School is the most flourishing department connected with the College, 

— how is it that we have been going on so well in the same orderly- path for eighty years, and 
now within three or four months it is proposed to change all our modes of carr\-ing on the School 

— it seems very extraordinary, and I should like to know how it happens.' 'I can answer 

Dr. 's question very easily,' said the bland, grave young man : ' there is a new President. 

The result was that by 1872 a complete revolution had been wrought in the Medical School: its 
finances were placed under the charge of the College Treasurer, its course of instruction was 
remodelled, its arrangement of term time and vacation was made to correspond with that of the 
College, its custom of conferring degrees in March was abandoned. 

' Ilr. O. W. Holmes to J. L. Motley, April 3, 1S70. Li/^ and LclUrs of Oliztr Uaiddl Holma (1S96), ii, 18S. 


A similar change was operated at llu; Law Scliool. When President Eliot made his first 
official visit there Governor Washburn is said to have exclaimed, "Well, 1 tlcclarc ! The 
President of Harvard College in Dane I lall ! This is a new sight ! " The surprise was not wholl_\- 
agreeable, for the President's coming foreboded the meddling of the Corporation in the atilairs of 
the School, and that the Law Faculty regarded with doubt if not with jealous}-. I'"or they too 
had been long bred in the notion that the School should be \-irtuall_v independent and that the\- 
knew better than the Corporation how to conduct the studj- of law. Nevertheless, the new broom 
did its work, and within a jear a new Dean, Professor C. C. Langdell, was busy reorganizing the 
Law School. 

And the same results were achieved, with greater or less speed, in the case of the other 
Schools and filial departments. Their funds were cared for in a common treasury; their xear 


was apportioned by a uniform calendar ; the meetings of their various Faculties were presided 
over by the same President: the \arious members of the Unixersit}' were, in brief reduced to a 
state of healthy coherence. 

In the case of the College proper a far more difficult problem confronted the energetic 
young President. He doubtless had in view both the raising of the standard of study and the 
extension of scholastic libert\-, in order that Harvard graduates might eventually occupy as high 
a plane of scholarship as that occupied by the graduates of German Universities. But the 
methods by which such attainments were reached in German)-, were uncongenial to the charac- 
ter and traditions of the American people. In Germany, the University considered its duties 
fulfilled when it provided lectures and conferred degrees after specific examination. In America, 
on the contrary, the College was originally but an advanced boarding school or academy, and it 



found itself encumbered with almost parental supervision of the morals and health of its students, 
in addition to its educational work. Harvard was no exception to this general rule, and its dual 
nature had to be constant!)' respected in every scheme for scholastic advance. A considerable 
part of the revenue of the College came from the rental of its dormitories, and this of itself would 
have been a sufficient reason against attempting to introduce bodily the German system. To 
accept these conditions, therefore, could not be avoided: having accepted them, to modify and 
adapt so as to get the high results which foreign universities got through other conditions, 
became the object of President Kliot and his coadjutors. 

One means to this end was the raising of the standard of admission and of academic 
studies. But this had to be done graduall}' and with due caution : for too sudden a levelling up, 


b)- interrupting the established sequence between the preparatory schools and the College would 
deprive the College of students, upon whose tuition fees and rents it depended for more than 
half of its income. Accordingly, the change was effected gradually, announcements being made 
from time to time that, in a stated >ear, new requirements for admission would be enforced : and 
meanwhile the fitting schools could prepare their pupils for the change. 

The second lever by which the standard was lifted, was the gradual but unreser\'cd exten- 
sion of the Elective S\stem. The opponents of this system urged two strong reasons against its 
adoption. First, they declared that j'ouths in College are not mature enough to choose their 
studies wisely: and here spoke that old American tradition, already referred to, that a college 
Faculty stands /// loco parentis toward its scholars. Secondly, they urged, and with unquestion- 
able truth, that the Elective System is much more expensi\-e than the old S3'Stem of a restricted. 



uniform curriculum for each class. Nevertheless, the Elective System was adopted, at first for 
Seniors, and then for ihc lower classes ; and erelong it appeared that throucjh it would be 
attained not only that libert\' of stud\- which it was believed undergraduates ought to enjo)', but 
also that raising of the standard in the higher courses by which it would be possible to confer 
higher degrees of positive value. 

Instead, therefore, of forming a special Faculty to superintend graduate students, with a 
curriculum of its own, the Go\-erning Boards in 1872, adopted a statute redefining the duties of 
the iVcademic Council, to which they entrusted the supervision of candidates for the degrees 
of Master of Arts, Doctor of Science and Doctor of Philosophy. 'I'hc Academic Council, 


organized in 1S63, consisted of the President and of all Professors, Assistant or Adjunct Profes- 
sors of the University, thus being representative of the University as a whole. It required that 
a candidate for the degree of A.M. must pass with high credit four full courses of instruction, of 
advanced grade, pursued for one academic year. The degree of Ph.D. or of S.D. was 
conferred on the ground of long study and high attainment in a .special branch of learning, 
manifested not only by examination but by a thesis. Eight departments were open to the 
candidate for a Ph.D., viz.: — Philology, philosophy, history, political science, mathematics, 
physics (including chemistry), natural histor}- and music. The candidate for a S.D. degree, 
must present himself for examination on two subjects or fields of stud\- in the general fields of 
the mathematical, phxsical and natural sciences. Candidates for either degree were subjected to 
a minute examination of their special branches, and their thesis must embody some contribution 



to science or some special investigation. No period of study or residence was fixed for either' 
but in practice, three years have usually been necessary. Between 1873 and 1896 out of 140 
persons who received the degree of Ph.D. only 18 took it in two years. 

Thus by readapting machinery already existing, and by adding whenever it was necessary 
to add, suitable means were provided, without the creation of a special Faculty for shaping and 
guiding what has since come to be known as the Graduate School. Professors could now escape 
from the routine of courses intended for undergraduates by offering more difficult or more highly 
specialized courses for a body of advanced students capable of taking them. And although, in 
the Catalogue at least, the distinction between the two sets of courses was obser\-ed, in practice 
the admission of undergraduates to graduate courses came to depend on the fitness rather than 


on the class of the applicants. How beneficially this change reacted on both Professors and 
students needs hardly to be pointed out: the former felt the stimulus of being able to devote 
their best energies to the higher branches of their chosen specialty, and of having to deal with a 
carefully sifted group of earnest scholars ; the latter felt the stimulus of pursuing such courses 
with men of common interests and equal abilit}'. In this wa}- the Electi\c System, while breaking 
down the somewhat artificial lines of Class spirit, has led to the formation of many small groups 
of men who are held together by intellectual affinity. 

In other departments besides the College and the Graduate School a similar overlapping 
has been encouraged. In 1873, the Corporation voted that students in one department should 
be admitted free to the instruction in an)' other. This wise provision had the double effect of 
bringing the departments thcmscl\-cs into closer relation, and of preventing the unnecessary 

I lO 


reduplication of coiir^^cs. Furthcriiiorc, " It led to the establishment of some courses whose 
academic domicile, if the term may be useil, was completely hidden b\- the mixed class of 
students attenduig them, and it eiicouragetl the establishment of courses for which no single 
department would ha\e su])plied a sufficient audience. " ' 

In tiie course of time this interchange or overlapping nalurall}' suggested a complete 
reorganization of the relations binding the three departments — the College, the (iraduate 
School, and the Scientific School — in which it had almost obliterated the earlier boundaries. 
Accordingl_\-, in iSgo, the separate Faculties of these three departments were abolished, and 


they were brought under the single F'acult}- of Arts and Sciences ; and in order to allow this 
single Faculty to devote its attention to questions of general policy, Administrative Boards 
were established to deal with the details of discipline, attendance and similar concerns of each. 
The Administrative Board for ITarx'ard College — the old " Academic Department" — has fif- 
teen members; that of the Scientific School has nine, and that of the Graduate School has 
eight. A Dean presides over each. But in cases involving either dismission or expulsion, 
final action rests with the Faculty of Arts and Sciences. Members of these Boards are nomi- 
nated by the President, and are appointed b)^ the Corporation with the consent of the Overseers ; 

1 C. F. Dunbar, "President Eliot's .Administration," Hai-viird Gviuhiates Magnziiie, ii, 462. Trofessor Dunbar's article 
should be read by everyone who wishes to get a view, at once comprehensive and profound, of this important period. 


1 I I 

each Faculty is composed of all the Professors, Assistant Professors, Tutors, and of all instruc- 
tors appointed for a longer term than one year, who teach in the departments under the 
charge of that Faculty. In this reorganization the Academic Council gave place to a Univer- 
sity Council, made up of all the Professors and Assistant Professors of the University, with 
such other persons as the Corporation may ap[)oint, and having for its pur])ose the consideration 
of matters which concern more than one F"aculty, or questions of University policy. The useful- 
ness of the University Council has thus far been theoretical rather than practical : but it is well 
that such a body should exist, if only as a symbol of the common interests and coherence of 
the various members. Fmergencies are conceivable in which it might e.xercise great weight. 


Further to co-ordinate the various functions of the Uni\-ersity, the P"aculty of Arts and 
Sciences organized twelve standing committees, called Divisions. This step, as President Eliot 
remarked, confirmed the " tendency to associate for various administrative purposes the teach- 
ers of single or cognate subjects, whose common interest it is co develop their respective sub- 
jects to the highest possible degree, to seek better and better facilities for teaching them, and 
to attract as many competent students as possible to the stud)- of them. Some of these Divi- 
sions of the Faculty by subject are alread}- nearly as large as the whole College Faculty was 
thirty ,\cars ago. . . . The importance of this organization will be obvious when it is observed 
that Harvard University has distinctly rejected, in its Department of Arts and Sciences, the 
policy of establishing distinct schools such as many other American Universities have founded 
— as for example, a School of Finance, a School of Political Science, or a School of Philosophy. 
The Universit}- proposes to have but one comprehensive Faculty of Arts and Sciences, and to 


care fur tlic interests of the separate departments of learning within this I'acuUy by means 
of this new organization of Divisions."' The twelve Divisions arc Semitic Languages and 
History; Ancient Languages, with two Departments (Indo-Iranian, and The Classics); 
Modern Languages, with five Departments (Knglish, German, French, Italian antl Spanish, 
Germanic and Romance Philology); Philosophy; Historj- and Political Science, with two 
Departments (History and Government, Political Kconom>) ; Fine Arts; Music; Pure and 
Applied ^L^thematics, with two Departments (Mathematics, P.ngineering) ; Physics; Cliem- 
istry; Natural History, with four Departments (Botany, Zoology, Geology. ^Fineralogy 
and Petrograph)) ; American Archa;olog\- and Fthnolog)-. Each Division enjoys almost 
complete self-government, and its recommentiation of candidates for instructorships is 
usually concurred in b\- the Corporation. In 1868-69 the whole College I-'aculty num- 
bered on!)- twent>--three ; in 1896-97 the Department of English alone had twenty-two 

These changes of 1890, representing as the\- did the results of twent\- years of tentative 
transformation, point to still others which ha\e not vet matured. From one point of view 
their cardinal significance appears from the fact that they indicate the change of Harvard 
College itself from its position of supremacy to a position of equality, if not of inferiority, in 
relation to its Professional Schools. Once, to be a "Harvard man" meant to belong to one 
of the undt;rgraduate classes or to have received a Hachelor's degree at Harvard. Members 
or graduates of the Professional Schools were not regarded as more than aliens who had taken 
out naturalization papers but could never hope to vie in genuineness with natives. Socially, 
this distinction still holds; and even officially, so far as concerns the right to vote for Over- 
seers, it still holds. But for several years past the number of undergraduates in the College 
proper has fallen considerably short of half of the students in the L^niversity: thus in 1897 
the College had only 1754 out of 3677 students. For a long time to come the College 
will unquestionably be the backbone or very core of the University, retaining its large 
prestige after its numerical importance in comparison with the other departments has 
waned ; but nothing is clearer than that this pushing forward of the schools is the inevi- 
table outcome of the work of the past thirty j-ears, which has had for its object the estab- 
lishment of a University standard at Harvard. I'.ven now, there arc Professors not a few 
who woukl be glad to see what remains of the College abolished, if they could thereby 
bring about the abolition of all elementary teaching and could welcome onl}- advanced 
students to higher courses of study. 

One difficultv- which the raising of the standard has created deserves to be considered. As 
the requirements for admission to Harvard College were stiftened, more work had to be done 
in the preparatorj- schools, and consequently the age of students at entering rose very rapidly. 
Fifty \-ears ago the average age of a class at graduation was about twenty, and it was by no 
means unusual for bright fellows to graduate at eighteen. But the average age of recent 
classes has been over twenty-three years.- If a student taking his A.B. at this age intends 
to pursue a profession he must spend at least three j'ears longer in the Law or Medical or 
Graduate School, and can hardly hope to be self-supporting before he is twenty-seven or 
twenty-eight years old. B\- 1885 this matter began to give concern, and two years later the 
Faculty received from the Corporation a request to consider the expediency of a reduction of 

1 Presidcnl's Report, 1890-91, p. 11. 

2 For 1891 it was 23 yrs. 1.2 mos. ; for 1892, 23 yrs. 2.07 mos. ; for 1893, 23 yrs. 0.01 mo.; for 1894, 23 yrs. 3.1 mos. 


the College course, with a view to lowering the average age at which Bachelors of Arts could 
enter the Professional Schools. The more radical innovators proposed to reduce the aca- 
demic course to three years ; others, who held the middle ground, suggested that the degree 
of A.B. be conferred on any candidate who should satisfactorily pass examinations in sixteen 
three-hour courses, irrespective of the length of his residence at the College; the conser\'a- 
tives held out for the maintenance of the full four years, and insisted that it was the first 
business of the College to make its A.B. degree represent a liberal education, irrespective 
of the subsequent intentions of its students. More than half the Bachelors of Arts went 
directly into business; it was therefore more important to give them as much academic train- 
ing as possible, than to cheapen the value of the A.B. degree for the sake of the minority 
who intended to study a profession. The Faculty, on March 26, 1890, \oted in favor of the 
middle ground propositions, by which students were to be allowed to anticipate some courses 
and to graduate when thc\- had passed the required sixteen courses. But the Board of Over- 
seers failed to concur. The question was redebated in the Facult)-, where the conservatives 
gained in strength, and finally, on April 8, 1 891, the Overseers shelved further discu-ssion by 
an overwhelming \-ote against shortening the course. 

Since that date both the Law and :\Icdical Schools have advanced their admission require- 
ments in order to exclude all candidates from entering except those who have alreadj- taken 
the A.B. degree or its equivalent. Consequently, previous academic training cannot be dis- 
pensed with by prospective lawj'ers and physicians. But a way has been found by the College 
for practically shortening the time of preparation of such students as cannot afford to spend 
four years in the Academic Department. As soon as they have passed the full number of 
courses there, they are allowed to enter the higher school, but they do not receive their A.B. 
diploma until the Class to which thev belonged graduates. By this arrangement it is pos- 
sible for competent students to complete their Academic and Professional work in six or 
seven years. 

One of the objections raised against the Elective System by its early antagonists was its 
costliness. This is illustrated by a comparison of the staff of teachers in 1868-69 ^^'tli t'lat of 
1896-97. In the former \-ear the Academic Department and Scientific School had 35 teach- 
ers and 575 students; this year the teachers' force under the Faculty of Arts and Sciences 
numbers 219 and the students number 2417. In other words there is now one teacher for 
every eleven students, whereas the old system required onl)- one teacher for ever)' 16.4 
students. In order to maintain this large teaching force, the practice is to have many instruc- 
tors and assistants appointed from )'ear to year as the revenue permits. Thus a sudden 
increase in the number of students in an}- department can be met by a proportional increase 
in teachers; or if there is a falling off of students there is a corresponding decrease in 
appointees for the next year. This clastic method allows the immediate application of funds 
to instruction, precludes the possibility of a large deficit, and docs not borrow from tlic future 
to pay the bills of the present. 

The personnel of the teaching force has changed not onl\- in numbers but in several strik- 
ing characteristics during the last generation. Of the twenty-three members of the College 
Faculty in 1869 only two were not graduates of Harvard; in 1897 one-third of the Faculty 
of Arts and Sciences comprises non-Harvard men, among whom are graduates of more than 
a dozen American and foreign Universities. Hence comes a healthy cosmopolitanism, and 
the assurance that the conduct of each department will reflect experience gained in different 

VOL. I 8 



fields. The age of the teachers has also kept pace to the increased niatiirit\- of the students. 
Foriiierl)-, Professors were often appointed before they had reached thirt>-. 1''. J. Child was 
a Professor at twenty-six, lulward livcrett at twenty-one, and H. \V. Longfellow at twenty- 
nine: apiJointees to Professorships under thirt\--five are now very rare, and those under forty 
are an e.\cei)tion. 

Of President Kliot, who has directed this momentous change in Harvard University, some- 
thing may be said, although it will be for the next generation, and not for his contemporaries, 
to estimate dispassionatclj- his achievements and character. He was only thirt\--five when he 
was chosen President. He was a la\-man. He was distinctly of a scientific rather than of a 
literary temperament. He Iiad alrcai!_\- made a carefiil study of higher education in America 


and in luiropc. All these facts had direct bearing on the impulse he gave to progress 
at Harvard. He \er\- quicklj- became comcrsant with even the smallest details of each 
Department and School. He maintained his influence over the eight or nine Faculties in 
which he presided, " not so much by official position," says Professor Dunbar, " as by his 
thorough knowledge of the business of every department and by his keen interest in every 
detail. A strong physique, great cnjoj'ment of labor, and an equable temperament ha\e been 
the conditions which have made incessant activity possible." Although he has popularly 
been regarded as a sort of wise autocrat, and the Faculties as bodies which existed chiefly 
to register and carry out his suggestions, the truth is that what he has accomplished has 
been, in almost every case, accomplished after long antagonism. Uni\ersit\- Faculties arc by 
nature conservative and timid, conscientious, critical and slow. And the Harvard Faculties 
hav^e adopted the reforms urged upon them by their innovating President and his coad- 
jutors, only after long discussion and gradual conviction. It is one of President Eliot's most 


remarkable characteristics that, in spite of his extraordinary vigor and commanding person- 
ality, he has always trusted to persuasion and not to coercion. No other Harvard President 
ever equalled him in executive abilit)' ; no other ever stood so conspicuously above his con- 
temporaries in the field of education : and yet no other has shown more patience to wait till 
academic public opinion should mature to his side. He has held unwaveringly a policy of 
publicit}-, letting the defects as well as the improvements and needs of the College be known 
from year to year, and thereby winning the confidence of the alumni in his good faith, even 
when they disagreed with his particular plans. 

Every advance, which ever)- one now points to as another evidence of Harvard's primacy, 
has been won at the expense of a minority who might be outvoted but could not be convinced. 
The questions in debate have been many, they have often been fundamental, and were not 
always to be settled without leaving regrets, or coldness, or scars behind them. But in general, 
it must be said, the defeated ha\e acquiesced manfully, or ha\e e\en come to admit that the 
measures which prevailed have been justified by subsequent experience. 

Most fortunately for the University, the period of transition has been bridged by a single 
administration. Frequent changes of leaders are alw^v'S a source of weakness, but never more 
so than when outer conditions themselves are in comv^sion. President Eliot's long term of 
service has assured continuit\- to a great policy. It has ^Iso permitted him personally to enjoy 
at last that approbation which comes with success, but which, had he died midway in his career, 
would have been less generally accorded to him. Now, at an age when men who have wrought 
great things usually slacken pace, he is still more active than any of his younger colleagues. 
" Eliot growing old ! " said a Phi Beta Kappa speaker lately, " why he has kept us all on the 
dead run for twenty-five years, and we have n't caught up yet." " He comes to me for my 
money and my advice," wittily remarked one of Harvard's unstinted benefactors, " and, like the 
two women in Scripture, the one is taken and the other is left." That he has earned the title 
of the Great President is as unquestionable as that he has, more than any other individual, 
stamped his genius on American education. 


The Professional Schools 
i— the medical school 

IN the year 1780, Drs. Samuel Danforth, Isaac Rand, Thomas Kast, John Warren and some 
others formed an association called "The Boston Medical Society." On November 3, 
1 78 1, this Society voted, "that Dr. John Warren be desired to demonstrate a course of Ana- 
tomical Lectures the ensuing Winter." Dr. Warren was the younger brother of Joseph Warren 
who fell at the battle of Bunker Hill. His course was popular, and led President Willard, and 
some of the Fellows of Harvard, who had attended his lectures, to discuss the organization of 
a Medical School to be attached to the College. Dr. \\'arren drew up a scheme, which was 
placed before the Corporation September 19, 1782. Twenty-two articles were adopted, among 
which was one establishing " a Professorship of Anatomy and Surgery; a Professorship of the 


Theory and Practice of Physic; and a Professorsl)ip of Chemistry and Materia Mcdica." It 
was further required that each Professor should be a " Master of ^\rts, or graduated Jiachelor 
or Doctor of Physics; of the Christian Rchgion and of strict morals." The first Professors 
were Dr. John Warren (Anatomy and Surgery), Dr. Aaron De.xter (Chemistry and Materia 
Medica) and Dr. Benjamin W'aterhousc ( Tiieory and Practice of Medicine). Tiiey lectured in 
Cambridge in 1783; a few medical students, and such Seniors as had obtained their parents' 
consent, attended. Three j-cars of stud\-, in\-o!\ing attendance on two courses of lectures — 
which was reduced in some cases, to attendance on one course, the longest being onl)- four 
months — were required of those who presented themselves as candidates for a degree. Stu- 
dents who were not graduates of the College had to pass a preliminar\- e.xaniinalion in the Latin 
Language and in Natural Philosoph}-. The degree of Bachelor of Medicine was first confcired 
in 1785 ; that of ^LD. in 1788, upon John l-'leet. 

The facilities for instruction were of the scantiest: one anatomical specimen; onl}' such 
clinical cases as were offeretl by the prix'ate patients of the Professors ; merely elementary 
chemical a[)paratus. And }'et, thanks to the skill and energy of Dr. Warren and his two coad- 
jutors, the School, despite its barren beginnings, slowly grew. Dr. W'aterhouse deserves to be 
remembered not only for his lectures, but also for establishing a Botanical Garden at Cam- 
bridge; for procuring the first collection of niineials, and for introducing the practice of \acci- 
nation into this countr\-. The graduates during the first twent)' years were few — sometimes 
onlj' one or two a \-ear. In 1806, Dr. John Collins Warren was appointed Assistant Professor 
of Anatomy and Surgery, under his father; three )-cars later. Dr. John Gorham was appointed 
Adjunct Professor of Chemistry and Materia Metlica. In the latter \ear Dr. J. C. Warren 
opened a room for the study of Practical Anatoni)-, at No. 49 Marlborough Street, (now Wash- 
ington Street) Boston, and in the autumn of 1810 the first course of lectures to members of the 
Harvard Medical School was giv(;n at that place in Boston. Furthermore, in 18 10, Dr. James 
Jackson was appointed Lecturer on Clinical Medicine; he succeeded to Dr. Waterhouse's Pro- 
fessorship in 1812, and ga\'e his students clinical instruction by taking them with him on his 
visits to the patients at the almshouse. 

In 1813, thirteen diplomas were conferred, and the need of a special building \vas so urgent 
that a grant therefor was obtainetl from the Legislature. In 1816, this building — a plain-two- 
story edifice with an attic — was opened in Mason Street, under the name of the " Massachu- 
setts Medical College." In 1821, the Massachusetts General Hospital was opened in Allen 
Street, largely through the efforts of the Medical School Professors, who thus secured ample 
material for study. In 1815, Dr. J. C.Warren succeeded his father as Professor of Anatoni)- and 
Surgery, and Dr. Walter Channing was appointed Professor of Obstetrics and Medical Jurispru- 
dence. Dr. Warren held his position for thirty-two years, until his resignation, in 1847, holding 
the highest rank among the New luigland surgeons of his time, and contributing by his learning 
and enthusiasm to the stead}- growth of the School, to which he bequeathed a valuable anatomi- 
cal collection. In i.S^i.the faculty of the Medical School, distinct from that of the College, 
was organized. Assistant Professorships and lectureships had to be added from time to time 
to meet the increased demands, and in 1847, Dr. George C. Shattuck endowed a chair of Patho- 
logical Anatnmy. The preceding year, the old building on Mason Street had been sold to the 
Boston Natural History Society, and a larger building was erected in North Grove Street, on 
land given for that purpose by Dr. George Parkman. The chemical laboratory, affording room 
for 138 students, occupied the basement of this new building; the physiological and micro- 


scopic laboratories were in the attic, and the other stories were devoted to rooms for lectures 
and demonstrations. 

The standard of the School has been steadily raised. At first, as we have seen, a student 
was required to attend only one or two courses of a maximum duration of four months during 
three years. Then, down to 1859, he was expected to attend two winter terms of four months', 
and to produce a certificate from some physician that he had studied under him during the rest 
of the required three years. In 1859, the Winter Course was supplemented by a Summer 
Course. During the next dozen years a better, but still an imperfect curriculum was adopted. 
The student was " expected to attend ' two courses of lectures,' taking tickets for all the 


branches, and being, of course, expected to attend dail\- fi\e, six. or more Icctiu'cs on as 
many different subjects, inasmuch as he had paid for them as being all of equal importance 
to him. In addition to this, he was expected to devote a considerable portion of his time to 
practical anatom_\-, if not to other special work in the laboratories of different bi'anches. It was 
a great feast of many courses to which the student was in\ited, but they were all set on at once, 
which was not the best arrangement either for mental appetite or digestion."' In 1871, how- 
ever, a reform was made, the essential provisions of which still obtain. " The whole academic 
year is now devoted to medical instruction. It is di\ided into two terms, the first beginning in 
September and ending in Februar\- ; the second, after a recess of a week, extending from Feb- 
ruary to the last part of June. Each of these terms is more than the equivalent of the former 
winter term. The most essential change of all is that the instruction is made progressive, the 
students being divided into three classes, taking up the different branches in their natural 

1 Dr. O. \V. Holmes, in Tlu Harvard Book, i, 24S. 


succession, ami passing through the entire range of their medical studies in due order, in 
place of having the wliolc of knowledge upset at once upon them. Practical instruc- 
tions in the various laboratories have been either substituted for, or added to, the didactic 
lectures, and attendance upon them is expected of the student as much as on the lec- 
tures." ' In the autumn of 1874, students were arranged according to their proficiency, in 
three classes, ami no one was allow ctl to pass from a lower to a higher class without having 
been successful in a majority of his courses. The mid-)'ear examinations were abandoned 
in 1876, as in most of the other departments of the Uni\ersitj', the jjractice grew^ of re- 
quiring students to make reports on special researches of their own, these reports serving, 
with the formal examinations, as a guitle to their ability. Since 1877 those candidates for the 
Medical School who have not alread\- a Bachelor's degree, ha\e been obliged to pass an entrance 

The stricter requirements, the more difficult course, and the raising of the tuition fee to 
$200, (there is also a matriculation fee of fi\-e dollars, and a graduation fee of thirt_\- dollars) 
prevented the membership of the School from increasing rapidlj-. Hut the value of first-rate 
training in this profession — which has made greater advances than an\- other during the past 
half-ccntur_\' — was gradually recognized, and the slow but healthy growth in membership called 
for more room and greater facilities. On October 17, 1883, a new School building on the corner 
of Bo\lston and Exeter Streets, Boston, was dedicated : it cost, exclusive of its site, about 
$240,000. In 1880 an extra \-ear was added to the regular course, but students were not 
required to take it. Between 1881 and 1887,487 degrees were conferred. In 1888, the Elec- 
tive System was partiall)- inlroduced, antl the experiment pro\ed successful. Summer courses, 
chiefly clinical in character, were also added, and have been largely attended. In 1890, labora- 
tories for bacteriology and pathology, costing $35,000, the gift of Dr. H. E. Sears, of the Class 
of 1883, were erected, and they have furnished means for the necessary instruction of the stu- 
dents, as well as for imi)ortant original investigations. Thus, as a result of the experiments 
conducted in the Bacteriological Laboratory b>- I'rof H. C. Ernst, the Health Department of 
the City of Boston adopted, in 1895, antitoxin in the treatment of diphtheria. In 1892, the 
Faculty of the Medical School extended the ordinary course of stud\- to four years, but they 
still permitted qualified students to receive their degree in three years; and the following }-ear 
they stiffened the requirements for admission, by announcing that in and after June 1896, all 
candidates must present either Erench or German. Other provisions for raising the standard 
have been gradually insisted upon, and after the j-ear 1900 the Medical School will become a 
graduate school, admitting no candidates who have not already received a degree in Arts, Lit- 
erature, I'hilosoph)-, Science or IMedicine, with the exception of persons of suitable age and 
attainments who ma\- be admitted by a special \ote of the Eaculty in each case. The gift bj- 
Mc George E. Eabvan of $100,000, to establish a Professorship of Comparative Pathology 
(1896), opened a new and important avenue to original research. In 1894, the Eaculty voted 
to admit women to certain lectures intended for graduates: but this was not intended to infringe 
on the School's traditional opposition to co-education. The endowment of the School was onlj- 
$40,000, in 1869; in 1897 it amounts to about $525,000. The Warren Anatomical Museum, 
founded by the elder Dr. J. C. Warren, contains over nine thousand specimens, to which a card 
catalogue gives easy access. Tiie receipts of the School for the year ending July 31, 1896, were 
$126,205.14; the paj-ments, including about $3,700 for scholarships, were $133,529.62. The 

1 Dr. O. \V. Holmes, in TAi Harvard Book, i, 248. 


hospitals in and near Ikiston furnish students of the School with abundant clinical material. In 
1893, Dr. H. P. Bowditch. who had been Dean for ten years, resigned, and was succeeded by 
Dr. W. L. Richardson. The students number 554, the Faculty and assistants, loi (1897). 


In 181 5, a Professorship of Law was endowered by a bequest from Isaac Royall, its incum- 
bent being required to give a course of lectures to the Seniors. In 1817, the University 
established a Law Department, the only Professor being the lion. Asahel Stearns. In 1829 
Nathan Dane endowed another chair, which was filled by the Hon. Joseph Stor\-, and, in 



1832, the same benefactor gave a Hall, called by his name, to the University. Previous 
to the erection of this, the Old Law School, the quarters of the School had been in what 
is now College House. In 1S29-30 there were thirt\--two students; thirt\- years later there 
were 152. But the instruction was irregular and unsatisfactory, although among the in- 
structors were men of ability. There was neither an entrance nor a final examination. Tiic 
course, nominally of two years, really permitted the student to acquire no more than he 
could have acquired in one year's systematic stud}-. This disorderly condition lasted until 
1870, when radical reforms were introduced, through the co-operation of the new Dean, 
Professor C. C. Langdell. Residence during the Academic year was made obligatory; 
diplomas were conferred on only those candidates who had passed a satisfactory examination ; 
the tuition fee was raised from $100 to $150; but no entrance examination was yet required. 
In 1877, the standard of the School was again raised, b}- extending the course from two to 

I 20 


three \-c;irs, ;iik1 in tlial \c;ir entrance exaniinatii)ns were established, tlie candidate being 
examined in C;esar, Cicero, Virgil, and in Hlackstone's Commentaries. 

Once fairly embarked in the work of requiring the best material at the Law School, 
Dean Langdell and his colleagues never flagged. They had two means in view by which to 
accomplish this end. I'irst, they proposed to make the Law School a graduate school, in 
the sense that students who presented themselves for admission must have already taken the 
degree of Bachelor of ^Arls, of Literature, of Philosophy, or of Science at some recognized 
College, or must be qualified to enter the Senior Class at Harvard College. Secondly, they 
proposed to insist on a three j-cars' course as indispensable for candidates for the degree of 
LL.]?. Both uf these ends ha\e been carried out, the Class which entered in June I.S96, 
being the fust which presented Bachelors' diplomas. Nevertheless, so high is the rejjutation of 
the School, its attendance has increased in an almost unbroken sequence. In 1897, the School 



numbered 475 students, of whom 399 were graduates of 80 different colleges, 17 were 
Harvard College Seniors, and the remainder were special students, or non-graduates who 
had entered the Law School previous to the enforcement of the new rule. S[)ecial students 
having proper qualifications are still admitted, and if thev pursue a three years' course and 
attain a prescribed rank, they become alumni of the School. 

Undoubtedly, the chief credit for the expansion of the Law School is due to its Dean, 
Professor C. C. Langdell, who, in addition to promoting the polic)^ abo\c out-lined, intro- 
duced the " case method " of studying law. Before him, the opinion prevailed that only 
lawyers who were or had been in active practice were competent to train prospective lawyers. 
V>Y the " case method," the Professor lectures on the theory of whatever legal subject may 
be under consideration, and the students work up the cases themselves. Thus law material is 


treated in a fashion similar to that in whicli chemical or other scientific material is treated in 

the laboratories. Professor Langdcll's own statement should be quoted. It is as follows: 

" It was indispensable to establish at least two things : first, that law is a science ; 
secondly, that all the available materials of that science are contained in printed books. 
If law be not a science, a University will best consult its own dignity in declining to teach 
it. If it be not a science, it is a species of handicraft, and may best be learned by serving an 
apprenticeship to one who practises it. If it be a science, it will scarcely be disputed that 
it is one of the greatest and most difficult of sciences, and that it needs all the light that 


the most enlightened seat of learning can throw upon it. Again, law can onl_\- be learned and 
taught in a Uni^■ersity by means of printed books. If, therefore, there are other and better 
means of teaching and learning law than printed books, or if printed books can only be 
used to best advantage in connection with other means, — for instance, the work of a 
lawyer's office, or attendance upon the proceedings of Courts of Justice, — it must be con- 
fessed that such means cannot be provided by a University. But if printed books are the 
ultimate sources of all legal knowledge; if every student who would obtain any mastery 
over law as a science must resort to these ultimate sources ; and if the onl\- assistance which 
it is possible for the learner to receive is such as can be afforded by teachers who have 
travelled the same road before him — then a university, and a university alone, can furnish 
every possible facility for teaching and learning law. I wish to emphasize the fact that a 


teacher of law should be a [)cr.son who accompanies his pupils on a road whicli is new to 
them, but with which he is well ac(iuainted from having often travelleil it before. \\ 
qualifies a person, therefore, to teach law is not experience in the work of a law>er's office, 
not experience in dealing with men, not experience in the trial or argument of cases, — not 
experience, in short, in using law, but experience in learning law; not the experience of the 
Roman advocate or of the Roman pr;elor, still less of the Roman procurator, but the experi- 
ence of the Roman juris-consult." ' 

Professor Langdell's system, after ha\ing been successfully tested and found good at 
Harvard, has been adopted in other American law schools, and Englishmen of eminence 
have declared thai it oul;1u to be followeil at Oxford.- In order to pro\ide adequate material 
for scientific stud\-, Professor Langdell took care from the start to enrich the Harvard Law 
School Library. On September I, 1896, it contained 38,000 volumes and 4300 pamphlets, 
$6000 a year having been expended on it during the previous six years. In 1895, the 
Harvard Law School .Alumni Association, (founded in 1886) celebrated the comi)letion of I\Ir. 
Langdell's twenty-five years of service as Dean, by an oration, delivered in Sanders Theatre 
by Sir Frederick Pollock, the distinguished English jurisprudent, and by a banquet in the 
Hemenway Gymnasium. The Association has contributed in many wa\-s to fiirther the 
interests of the School, and now (1897) has a nunibership of 1000. In 18S3, the present 
building of the School, .\uslin Hall, was built at a cost of $154,000 given b_\- lulwin Austin, 
of Boston. II. II. Richardson, of the Class of 1859, designed it. Recently, .some minor 
alterations in the building, ha\e increased the capacit)- of the book-stack and added a small 
lecture-room. In 1890, the Law School began the publication of a Ouinqumnial Catalogue, 
containing the names of all students who have ever been enrolled in the School; the Alumni 
Association has defrayed in part the cost of its publication. Since 1887, the .students have 
published the "Harvard Law Review" (monthly, during term time), "contributions 
to the histor\- and science of our law," sa\'s Sir Frederick Pollock, " ha\e been of the utmost 
value." The students have maintained several law clubs, a moot court, etc., from 
which the>- have deri\ed great profit. In 1896, the receipts of the Law School were 
.$89,725.97 and the expenditures $65,630: in the latter being included $2,350 for .scholar.ships. 
Twenty-seven different courses of lectures are set down in the Catalogue for 1897. 


The writer of " New England's I'"irst Fruits," which was published in 1643 and contains 
the earliest detailed account of Harvard College, says: "After God had carried us safe to 
New England, and we had builded our houses, provided necessaries for our livelihood, reared 
convenient places for God's worshi]), and settled the civil government; one of the next things 
we longed for and looked after, was to ad\ance learning and per[)etuate it to Posterit}-: dread- 
ing to leave an illiterate Ministrj- to our Churches when our present Ministers shall lie in 
the Dust." From this point of view. Harvard was literally^ a divinity school from its founda- 
tion. In our sur\'ey of the corporate growth of the institution, we have seen how closely 
during the colonial mm\ ]iro\-incial periods the progress and government of Harvard was 
involved in the religious atTairs of Massachusetts. In the Puritan Theocrac}-, the minister 

* 250th Anniversary of Harvard University, p. S5. 

* See, for instance, Ilanuird College by an Oxonian. G. Birkljeck Hill (New York, 1S94), p. 264. 



naturally held a commanding position, and down to the end of the eighteenth century the 
instruction given by Harvard formed the regular preparation for the ministry. 

The gradual rise in importance of polite learning for its own sake, or as fitting for busi- 
ness and professional life, inevitably deprived theology of its ascendency. The breaking up of 
the old Presbyterian body into denominations of various shades of belief, and the increase 
in the membership and influence of other churches, hastened the deposition of the old 
s)stem. Early in the nineteenth century, the Radical or most liberal portion of the orthodo.K 
sect passed rapidl)- over to Unitarianism, many of the leaders in the movement, including 
William Ellery Channing himself, being Harvard men. Harvard College thus became the 
stronghold of the Unitarians. In 1815, the proposal was made to establish a separate Divinity 

■ n 


School at the College. Four years later the School was organized, and in 1826, Divinity 
I lall was built, through the efforts of the Societ)- for the Promotion of Theological Education 
in Harx'ard Uni\-ersity. During more than a generation the Di\init_\- School educated most 
of the eminL,'nt propagators of Unitarianism. Here William Henry Furness, Ezra Stiles Gannett, 
Frederick Henry Hedge, I-lphraim and Andrew P. Peabody, James Freeman Clarke, Chandler 
Robbins, Cyrus A. Bartol, Theodore Parker, George E. Ellis, John Weiss, Henry W. Bellows, 
O. B. Frothingham and Samuel Longfellow drew in a Liberal Theolog}-, which the)- carried 
hence to man\- congregations. When, however, the first enthusiastic wave of L'nitarianism 
was spent, the Divinity School began to decline. From i860 to 1869 inclusive it graduated 
only 55 students; from 1870 to 1879, it graduated only 63. In 1879, a subscription was 
raised to provide for a more extensive curriculum, without which the institution seemed in 
danger of collapsing. Since that time the School has more than regained its prestige. It has 

12 + 


wholly freed itself from exclusive L'nitarianisin and from all sectarianism whatsoever, and has 
for its object the imparting of the best instruction in theology, in Biblical histor\- antl criti- 
cism, in homiletics and in whatever other knowledge belongs to the equipment of preachers 
and pastors.' Its students are free to elect such courses in the College proper as bear directly 
or remotely on their main topic, and College students similarly elect courses ])rimarily in- 
tended for members of the Divinity School. In 1897, to illustrate the prevailing non- 
sectarianism, the Facult)- of the School has representatives of the Unitarian, Presbyterian, 
Congregational, and Baptist churches. Beginning in 1875, the School conferred on its grad- 
uates the degree of S.T.B., more recently changed to D.B. 

The usual course for candidates for this degree covers three years. The annual tuition 
fee has been hfty dollars since 1859, but beginning with the autumn of 1897 it has been $150, 

niviNrrv library 

like that charged in the College and Scientific School. Only after long deliberation did 
the Facult)' of the School decide to make this ad\ance, \-et so long ago as 1889 President 
Eliot pointed nut tint it was nccessar)-, in order to attract the best sort of men. 

"The Protestant ministry," he said in his report for that year, "will never be put on a 
thoroughly respectable footing in modern society until the friar or mendicant element is com- 
pletely eliminated from it. There are no good reasons why Protestant students of theology 
should be taught, fed and lodged gratuitous!)- ; students of law, of medicine or of the liberal arts 
arc not." In 189:?, the School received a bccpiest of $30,000 from the Rev. P^rederick Frothing- 

' The Constiuition of the School prescribes that assent to the peculiarilies of any denomination of Christians 
"every encouragement be given to the serious, impartial shall be required either of the instructors or students." 
and unbia.ssed investigation of Christian truth, and that no 


ham, of the Class of 1849, for a Professorship in Ecclesiastical History. In 1887, the Divinitj' 
School Library, costing, about $40,000, and furnishing besides a book-stack, a faculty-room 
and three lecture-rooms, was built. Nearly 28,000 volumes and 5600 pamphlets form the 
Library. The endowment of the School, on July 31, 1896, amounted to $448,488.14; its 
receipts were $34.8i5-55- ^"d 't« payments $31,788.64. The alumni of the School have an 
Association, which holds an annual reunion, and a Catalogue of all persons u ho have studied 
in the School is now in course of [^reparation. Thirty-seven students are in attendance at the 
School this year. 


In 1847, Abbott Lawrence gave $50,000 to found a school for training prospective 
engineers, inventors, miners, machinists and mechanics. In a letter to the Corporation he 
pointed out that 
many institutions 
for tho learnal pro- 
few in which the ap- 
and inwntion to in- 
"I believe the time 
said, " when we 
effort to diversify 
our people, and 
their strong men- 
resources through- 
And he specified 
(2) Mining in its 
including Metal- 
Invention and 
Machinery, as the 
tical branches to 
education should 

immediately de- 
tion of a building, 
to the creation of 
Civil Engineering, 
further assistance 
1855, when he ]je- 
to the School for 


man\' }'ears 

while there were 
for preparing men 
fessions, there were 
plication of science 
dustry was taught, 
has arri\ed," he 
should make an 
the occupaticnsof 
develop more full>- 
tal and ph}-sical 
out the Union." 
( I ) Engineering, 
extended .sense, 
lurgy, and (3) the 
Manufacture of 
three great prac- 
which a scientific 
be applied, 
half of his gift was 
voted to the erec- 
and the other half 
a Professoiship of 
Mr. Lawrence ga\e 
until his death, in 
queathed $50,000 
general purposes, 
after its founda- 

tion, the boundaries of the courses offered b)' the School were not closel}" defined: thus Louis 
Agassiz was from the first its Professor of Zoology and Geolog\-, subjects which, excejjt in so 
far as a knowledge of geology is necessar)' fcr the mining engineer, seem remote from Mr. 
Lawrence's central purpose. On the other hand, such subjects as Mathematics, Physics 
and Chemistry, indispensable alike to the metallurgist and the engineer, were alread\- 
taught in the College. After the founding of the Universit)- Museum, the Zoological and 



allied branches were very propcrl}- centreil tlierc. Thus it fell nut tin- student at tiie 
Scientific School ^oi a considerable part of his instruction outside of the School itself; and this 
unquestionably tended to dei)rivc the School of homogeneous organization. Nor was this 
tendency' lessened when Sanuiel Hooper, M.C., gave mone)- to fouml the Iloopcr School of 
Mining and Practical Geology, which existed as an independent part of the Scientific School 
from 1865 to 1875, when it was finally merged in the larger institution, and the Sturgis-llooper 
Professorship of Geology was continued as a separate chair. In iSjj, Jolin H. Barringer left 
$35,000 to encourage the study of Chemistry. Hut the Scientitic School failed to grow. 
Between 1870 and 1879 inclusive it graduated onl\- thirty-eight men; in the next decade 
(1880-89) ''^ graduates numberetl onl_\- eigiiteen. Mxtinction fiom inanition seemed inevi- 


table. But in iSR;, W. S. Chaplin was appointed Dean and new life began lo flow into 
the organization of the School. Engineering, which recent economic ad\aiice hail made 
one of the most important of the technical professions, was given proper prominence, 
b\' the announcement of several new courses, to supplement which necessary a])[)aratus 
was added as ra[)itll_\- as possible, (iootl results were soon shown. I'rom fourteen stiuleiits 
in 1886 the attendance has increased to three hundred and sixty-eight in 1896-97; and at 
Commencement, 1896, the degree of S.B. was conferred on twenty-nine candidates. By 
raising the admission requirements, the School has taken the surest means for securing a 
body of students qualified to make the best use of the high class of instruction which it 
now offers. Under the general revision of 1890, it is a member of the I'aculty of Arts 
and Sciences, with an Administrative Board of its own. Alread)', it has in \iew a further 
advance in admission requirements to equal those of Harvard College. The courses of 


stud}- in the School arc divided into eleven departments, viz.: Civil Engineering; Electrical 
Engineering; Mechanical Engineering; Mining and Metallurgy; Architecture; Chemistry; 
Geology; Botany and Zoology; General Science; Science for Teachers; Anatomy, Physi- 
ology, and Physical Training. The School building was enlarged in 1891 ; subsequently, 
it has been liirnished with new workshops; and a part of the Old Society Building has 
been given up to its -Department of Architecture, l^ul the present accommodations are 
wholly inadequate. A laboratory for mining engineering, and buildings for engineering and 
for architecture are needed at once. 


No notice of the Scientific School should close without reference to the men of distinction 
whom it trained in its earlier j'ears : though few in numbers, their quality was indisputably 
high. The first class to graduate, that of 1851, contained Joseph Le Conte, John D. Runkle 
and Da\id A. Wells. In 1857, it graduated Alexander .Agassiz ; in 1858, Simon Xewcomb; 
in i860, U. C. Eaton; in 1861, J. W. Langley; in 1862, Alpheus Hyatt, S. H. Scudder, X. S. 
Shaler, A. E. Verrill and B. G. Wilder; in 1865, E. C. Pickering and John Trowbridge. 


The Dental School sprang into a tentati\-e existence in 1867, and two years later 
conferred on the first graduating class of six its degree of Doctor of Dental Medicine.* 
From 1870 to 1883, it occupied quarters at No. 50 Allen Street, Boston: then, it moved 

1 Dr. O. W. Holmes is said to have suggested the title of this diploma (D.M.D.). 



into the olil Mctlicnl Scliool buikliiiij on North Grove Street. The requirements tor 
admission and tlie standard of education in the School itself have been gradual!)' raised, 
so that now a camlitiate for admission must be a College graduate or he must pass an 
examination in ICnglish, I'hvsics, Latin or l-'rench, and one other subject. The curriculum 
covers three j-ears, the first year's courses being pursued in connection with the classes of 
the Medical School. During the second and third years students concentrate their atten- 
tion on Dentistry. The Dental Hospital affords, with its free clinics, such mate- 
rial that each student has 480 hours a year of practice in Operative Dentistry. In the 
mechanical department each student's practice amounts to 576 hours a \'ear. I'he Scope 
of Dentistry, as defmed b\- the School, includes the treatment of cleft palate, fractured 
jaws, hare lij) and diseased noses. The School has a Museum of o\er 3000 specimens; 


its fees are $200 for the first year, $150 each for the second and third years, and $50 
for a student taking graduate courses. During four weeks in July and August, summer 
courses are conducted. The School has, in 1897, 131 students; its receipts were 
$24,316.79 and its payments were $20,428.55 last year. 


The School of Veterinary Medicine, founded in 1883, is situated at 50 Village 
Street, Boston. The School building has on the ground floor a large operating-room, 
five box stalls and si.x ordinary stalls. On the second floor are twelve boxes and stalls, 
a room with about twenty kennels for dogs, a pharmacy and an instrument room. The 
Assistant and House Surgeons occupy the third story. In the basement are a shoeing 
forge and a boiler-room. Adjoining this building is another, on Lucas Street, the lower 
floor of which is devoted to hospital uses, the second to a lecture-room, the third to 


a dissection-room and a reading-room, the fourth to a museum and Surgeons' quarters. On 
February 12, 1896, a free clinic or charity hospital was opened in still another building, 
at Nos. 25s and 257 Northampton Street, and 1672 animals there received attention during 
the first seven months it was in operation. At the hospital for paying animals 2283 
cases were treated last year. Although the sense of the public has been greatly quick- 
ened during the past generation to prevent or punish cruelty to animals, the importance 
of such an institution as the Veterinary School has not yet been sufficiently recognized 
for it to receive an adequate endowment. In the accounts of the College Treasurer, therefore, 
the School shows regularly a deficit. Nevertheless, the attendance of students has steadily 
increased, reaching 52 in the present year. The in.struction covers a three years' curricu- 
lum, at the end of which the degree of Doctor of Veterinary Medicine is conferred on stu- 



dents who pass satisfactor}- examinations. In 1896, thirteen received this degree. In his most 
recent Annual Report, President Eliot announces that " the time has come to attempt a 
reconstruction of the School upon a larger plan, with at least two endowed Professorships and 
a building to contain laboratories, store-rooms, and lecture-rooms. The veterinarj- would 
naturally form an important branch of a department of comparative medicine." 


Nearly thirty years ago the advocates of the higher education of women began to 
urge Harvard College to admit women to its pri\ilcges. In 1869, one v\oman asked to 
be enrolled in the Divinity School and another in the Scientific School; but the senti- 
ment of the Governing Boards, and indeed of the majority of the public, was then op- 
VOL. I. — 9 



posed to co-ediiciition. All that Harvard did was to allow women to attend rcrtain 
semi-public lectures, and to take admission examinations (1873). In 1S7S, tlurefore, Mr. 
Arthur fiilman ami other frientls of the cause, incliulinL; Professors Child, Goodwin and 
Grcenough, ori^nnated the scheme of repeatinj^ for the benefit of such women as should 
elect them courses given in the University. A board of manajijers, of which Mrs. Louis 
Agassiz was the head, was formed; about $15,000 were subscribeil, and in the followinij 
I-'ebruarx- a circular headeil "Private Collegiate Instruction of Women " was issued. The 
essential feature of the .scheme was that the instruction should not be of a lower grade 
than that given in Harvard College. In September 1879, 27 students began their work. 
No. 15 Appian Way — the house once occupied b)- Arthur Hugh Clough — being hired for 


their use. The next year, the number of students increased to 47, and the third, the 
project seemed already so well-assured that the managers secured a charter under the name 
of "The Society for the Collegiate Instruction of Woman." For many years, the incipient 
institution was known by the shorter name of "The Harvard Annex." In 1883, three 
}-oung women having completetl a four years' course, had conferred on them a certificate 
stating that the recipient had ])ursued studies equivalent to those for which Harvard College 
bestowed the degree of Bachelor of Arts. Shortly afterward, an appeal for more funds 
brought in subscriptions amounting to $67,000. In 1885, the quarters in yXjipian Way 
ha\-ing been outgrown, the opportunit)' offered of bu\-ing the Fa}' House, at the corner of 
Garden and Mason Streets, near the W^ashington IClm. Subsequent additions have more 
than doubled the capacity of this house, and provided it with lecture-rooms, reception- 
rooms, a laboratory, an assembly hall, a library and offices. The attendance grew rapidly, 




and the work of the best students proved again that in many branches of learning women 
can acquire as readily as men. In e\ery respect, the instruction duphcated that of Harvard 
College. Finally, on December 6, 1893, the Harvard Board of Overseers concurred with the 
Corporation in agreeing to resolutions binding Harvard College to accept a sort of super- 
visory or visitatorial authority over Radclifte College — the name by which the Annex was 
thenceforth to be known — and empowering the President of Harvard College to counter- 
sign the diplomas conferred on the graduates of Radclifte. A charter for the new college 


was granted b>- the Massachusetts Legislature, the name Radclifife being chosen, because Anne 
Radcliffe, Lad>' Mowlson, had more than two centuries and a half before founded a scholarship 
in Harvard College. In this way, from small beginnings, Radclifte has come to enjoy, in every- 
thing but name, an identity of privileges with Harvard. Her students take courses taught by 
I larvard teachers, and, in the case of some graduate courses, they are admitted to the same 
lectures with Harvard students. Her finances and policy are managed by a distinct corpora- 
tion,— an arrangement which relieves the Harvard Corporation, already heavily burdened, from 
further responsibility; but the ties of common interests, and the official supervision by Har\-ard, 
guarantee to Radclifi"c all that is necessary for its welfare. In 1897, three hundred and sixty- 
one students were enrolled at Radcliff"e; the College had about 110,000 square feet of land, 
besides the original Fay House lot, and personal property amounting to $300,000. The 
expenditures the previous year were $63,451.31- 



The SciKNTinc EsrAr.i.isiiMr.Nis and Musf.ums 


WILLIAM C. BOND, under an agreement dated November 30, 1839, made at Cambridge 
his first observation on December 31, 1839, and was appointed Astronomical Observer 
on the following 12th of February. Tliesc dates mark the bei^Munin- ..f this department at 
Harvard. Professor Bond was first established in the Dana House — known to the present gen- 
eration as Dr. Peabody's — at the corner of Ouincy and Harvard Streets. In 1844 the Observa- 
tory building on the hill between Concord Avenue and Garden Street was projected ; fiinds 


were subscribed, and part of the present edifice was completed in 1846. The object-glass of the 
15-inch equatorial, received on December 4, 1846, was mounted June 11, 1847. " The objects 
of the Observatory arc," in the words of President Sparks who drew up its Statutes, " to furnish 
accurate and s)-stematic observations of the heavenly bodies for the advancerncnt of Astronomical 
Science, to co-oj)erate in Geodetical and Nautical Surve\s, in Meteorological and Magnetical In- 
vestigations, to contribute to the improvement of Tables useful in Navigation, and' in general, to 
promote the progress of knowledge in Astronomy and the kindred sciences." Accordingly, the 
Observatory has been first of all, an institution for research. Next, it has aimed especially to 
advance the physical side of Astronomw undertaking such studies of the i)h\sical properties of 
the stars as other Observatories would not be likch" to make. Professor Bond and his'stin laid 
the foundation of astronomical photography; Professor Joseph Winlock, who in 1865 became 
Director, paid particular attention to spectroscopic and photometric work ; and Professor Edward 



C. Pickering, who succeeded him in 1876, has continued the poHcy of cultivating the physical 
side of the science. 

In 1849, Edward B. Phillips bequeathed $100,000 to the Observatorj-. From time to time 
other gifts, the largest being $30,000, were received, but in 1882, the financial resources still fell 
so far short of the needs, that an endowment of $50,000 was raised b>- subscription. Shortly 
afterward the Observatory received two very munificent bequests, that of Robert Treat Paine, 

which amounted to about $275,000, and that of Uriah A. Boyden, amounting to $237,000, and 

in 1886, Mrs. Henry Draper began to contribute $10,000 a year for a memorial to her late 
husband, the distinguished scientist. Mrs. Draper's gift has been devoted to photographing 
stellar spectra, a subject in which Professor Draper was a pioneer. With the income of the 

Boyden fund it was de- 
nomical station at some 
which little-explored por- 
be observed. Accord- 
Colorado, a temporary 
son's Peak, near Los An- 
after a thorough test, the 
there did not prove satis- 
a permanent location, 
dition had been sent from 
America, for the purpose 
vorable site in the Andes. 
first at Chosica, Peru, at 
but in October 1890, that 
After careful examination 
Ecuador to Chile, Are- 
offer the most desirable 
1 89 1, the Harvard South 
permanently located, at 
about three miles from the 
for the Astronomer and 

cided to establish an astro- 
favorable point, from 
tions of the heavens could 
ingly, after a brief trial in 
station was set up on W'il- 
geles, California: but 
atmospheric conditions 
factory enough to warrant 
Simultaneously, an expc- 
the Observatory to South 
of discovering some fa- 
The expedition settled 
an altitude of 6000 feet; 
spot was abandoned. 
of other places, from 
quipa, Peru, appeared to 
conditions, and there, in 
American Station was 
the height of 8000 feet, 
city of Arcquipa. A house 
his assistants, and smaller 

LKIAH 111 i\ I 'IX 

buildings for instruments have been erected. On the summit of the neighboring volcano, 
El ]\Iisti, a Meteorological Station, the highest in the world (19,200 feet above sea level) has 
been placed ; and a chain of similar stations now connects the Pacific coast with the valle\- of 
the Amazon.^ In 1896, the 24-inch photographic telescope, provided from a gift of $50,000 
from ;\Iiss C. W. Bruce, was successfull}- transported to Peru and set up. The results of the 
observations are regularly forwarded from Arequipa to be worked out and published b)- the 
Observatory at Cambridge. 

In 1893, a fireproof building, costing about $15,000, was erected at Cambridge for the safe 
storage and more convenient examination of the collection of photographic plates, which then 
numbered upwards of 30,000. About the same time, the residential part of the Observatory 
building was enlarged at the expense of Professor Pickering. For many \-ears the Observatory 
furnished time signals to a considerable number of subscribers, but it discontinued this service \\\ 
1892, when the United States Naval Observator\- established a competing serx'ice. It is the 

1 These stations, with their altitudes, are .Molleiido (100), La Joya (4150), .-Vrequipa (S060), Alto de los Huesos 
(13, -,00), Mt. Blanc Station on the Misti (15,600), El Misti (19,200), Cuzco (ii.coo), and Santa .Ana (3,000). 



centre for the Western Hemis])lierc froiii wliicli astronomical discoveries arc announced; and it 
ininiudiately cables the announcement to the Observatory of Kiel, which performs a like function 
for Europe. In co-operation with the New England weather service, the Meteorological Ubser- 
valions taken at nearly t\\ o hundred points, are published in the " Annals " of the Observatory. 
These " Annals" now fill thirty-three quarto volumes and contain the chief results of the astro- 
nomical work at Harvard during the past half cenlurj-. Xo recent publications exceed in 
importance the Photometric Tables issued in 1894. Some idea of the activity at the Obser\atory 
can be gained when it is stated that during the year 1895-96 one of the assistants made more 
than 20,000 light comparisons, and the Director made 91,608. During that year announcements 


appeared of the discovery 1)\' I Iar\ard's astronomers of two new stars, twcnty-thrcc variable 
stars, besides one hundred and fort\'-sevcn variable stars in clusters, one new gaseous nebula, 
seventeen stars having peculiar spectra, and one spectroscopic binary. 

The Observatory does not give instruction to students, but it allows astronomers to use frccl\' 
its librar_\- (which contains 8300 \-olumis and i 1,500 pamphlets ) antl its instruments, so far as such 
use does not interfere with regular work. Among the instruments at Cambridge are the 15-inch 
and 6-inch equatorial telescopes, the 8-inch transit circle, the 11 -inch Draper photographic 
telescope, the 8-inch photographic telescope, and the nieiidian jihotometer. The principal 
instruments at .\requipa are the liruce 24-inch and the ]M)\-dcn 13-inch jihotographic telescopes. 


This important department of the Universit}' is the monument of the genius and zeal of one 
man — Louis Agassiz. Born at Motiers, Switzerland, in 1807, he came to this country to lecture 
in 1S46. In the following }-ear .\bl)ott Lawrence founded the Scientific School, in which the 



Professorship of Zoology was offered to Agassiz, w lio accepted it and at once entered on its duties. 
As tlie College possessed no collections of Natural History, Agassiz began to make them at his 
own expense, and a wooden building — now the Old Society Building on Holmes Field, but first 
called Zoological Hall — was put up to shelter them. In 1852, friends of the College raised 
$12,000, and purchased the collection, to which i\gassiz continued to add. In 1858, Francis C. 
Grav left $50,000 to the Corporation for the establishment of a Museum of Comparative Zoology, 
and the Massachusetts Legislature, at the instance of the indefatigable naturalist, appropriated 
(1859) $100,000, payable from sales of lands in the Back Bay district, towards the erection of a 
suitable museum. By private subscription $71,125 were also raised. The College ceded about 
fi\e acres, and on June 17, 1859, the corner-stone was laid. Agassiz's plan was for a building 
three hundred and si.xty-four feet long b}' si.xty-four feet wide, with two wings, each two 

length and si.\t)--four in 
north wing were first com- 
ihen existing collection, 
checked both public and 
ccpt that in i863,theLeg- 
fi.r the publication of an 
the Museum," but speci- 
mulated. In 1865, Pro- 

hundred and five feet in _ 

width. Two-fifths of the 
pleted, and sufficed for the 
The War of the Rebellion 
private munificence, e.x- 
islature granted $10,000 
"Illustrated Catalogue of 
mens were steadily accu- 
fcssor and Mrs. Agassiz ^^^^^^^Kk. ^v and several assistants made 

an expedition to Brazil at ^^^T^^^Bia^ '•'^'^ expense of Nathaniel 

Tha}er, and returned .^^^^^^^^^t^ after more than a \ear, 

with very large and rare ^l^^^^^^^^^^k collections. IMorc room 

being needed, the Lcgis- ^PiBl^^^^^^^ lature in 1868, appropri- 

ated $75,000, further in- ^■~- creased from private 

sources, and the north wing was completed 

(1871). In 1871, Agas- siz was appointed Direc- 

tor of a Ueep-Sea Ex- ploring Kxpedition, fit- 

ted out by the United States Coast Survey Bu- 

reau, and in the small steamer, the Hnsslcr, he 

explored the West In- ^ dies, skirted the Eastern 

Coast of South America, ^°"'^ "^^'^^-^'^ rounded Cape Horn and 

ascended the Pacific Coast to San Francisco. The fruits of this expedition were added to 
the collections at the Museum. In 1873, Mr. John Anderson, of New York, gave to the Trus- 
tees of the Museum the Island of Penikese, together with $50,000, to found a summer School 
of Natural History. On December 14, 1873, Agassiz died. As a fitting memorial to the 
great naturalist a subscription fund was raised, amounting to $310,674, of which $50,000 was 
voted by the State, and $7594 w as subscribed in small amounts by 87,000 .school-teachers and 
school-children throughout the country. This fund was devoted to the maintenance of the 
Museum. In 1876, the institution was formally handed over to the University, but on the express 
condition that its Faculty should retain their privileges of independence. The Curator alone is 
appointed by the Harvard Corporation. Alexander Agassiz has been the Curator since 1875, 
and it is owing chiefly to his personal munificence and solicitude that the great edifice planned 
by his father has been brought almost to completion, additions to the edifice having been made 
in 1880 and in 1890. 



As yet, h(>\ve\-cr, only a portion of the vast number of specimens coUecteil by tlie elder 
Agassiz, anil of the subsequent gifts and purchases, has been arranf,fed for exhibition. In sc\cral 
rooms open to the public arc displayed specimens of the leading species of the Animal Kingdom. 
Near by is the unique collection (opened April 17, 1893) of Glass Models of Flowers, the gift of 
the widow and daughter of Dr. Charles V.. Ware, of the Class of 1834. These models arc the 
handiwork of Leopold IMaschka ' antl his son Rudolf, glassblowcrs of llosterwitz, near Dresden, 
Germany, who since 1886 have worked cxchisivel_\- for the Harvard .Museum. The father died 
in 1896, and at the death 
their process will be lost. 
nuinl)ers ni.uiy hunilred 
Icctcd under the super- 
thc Rotanic Garden, Dr. 
arc intended to illustrate 
flowering plants of North 
of such cr\ptogams as can 
The Museum contains al- 
nerogamic laboratories, 
of alg;e, fmigi and lich- 
lloor, a large collection 

One section of the 
1 89 1, from subscriptions 
assignetl to the MineKi- 
are exhibited the j. 
metcorites, the llamlin 
the William Sturgis Hige- 
of gems, the gifts of James 
.Among the remarkable 
Cafion Diablo iron, con- 
gems include an 83-carat 
rine antl yellow beryls, opals frf)m Australia, Mexico and Ilungar}-, tourmalines from Brazil and 
Siberia, and a tourmaline crystal, weighing nearly three pounds, from Paris, Maine. 

The Museum has to serve not only as an exhibition-place and storehouse for these and other 
collections, but it has also several lecture halls and laboratories for students who take courses in 
Natural Histor)-. Its libraries number 31,000 \-olumes and about 5000 pamphlets. Its publica- 
tions consist of an octavo " Bulletin " and of" Memoirs" in quarto; twcnt\--nine volumes of the 
former and eighteen of the latter having appeared. 


of the son the secret of 
The collection alread\- 
specimens, which are se- 
vision of the Director of 
George L. Goodale, and 
the principal types of 
and South .America and 
be accurately reproduced, 
so Cr\'ptogamic and Pha- 
an e.xtensive Herbarium 
ens, and, on the ground 
of fossil plants. 
Museum, built in 1890- 
aggregating $50,000, is 
logical department. Here 
rence Smith collection of 
collection of tourmalines, 
low agates, and a variety 
A. Garland ami others. 
meteorites is one of the 
taining diamonds. The 
diamond cr\-stal, aquama- 


The Peabody Museum of American Archeology and Ethnolog\- was founded by George 
Peabody, of London in 1866, with a gift of $150,000, of which $60,000 were set aside for a 
building fund, and the remainder was devoted to the purchase of collections and specimens. 
Jeffries W)man was Curator of the Museum till 1874. The collections were stored in Boylston 
Hall till 1876, when, the building fund having accumulated to $100,000, a building was begun. 

1 Leopold Blaschka was bom at Aicha, Bohemia, in 1822 ; his ancestors being Venetians. Rudolf was born in 1S57. 



A large addition was made to it in i88g, and it is hoped that erelong the building may be com- 
pleted by the erection of another section one hundred feet long, which will join the Museum 
of Comparative Zoology, and thus realize the plan laid down by Professor Agassiz forty years 
ago. The Peabody Museum contains various collections of ornaments and implements of 
aboriginal American tribes, and a large store of ethnographical specimens from Asia, Africa 


and the Pacific. In 1S91, it got permission from the government of Honduras to explore 
Copan, a prehistoric town, which has since been partially exca\-ated bj- persons sent out bj- 
the Museum, and has jielded much material. The Mary Hemenway collection, gathered from 
the remains of the Southwestern tribes of the United States, was arranged in I S96. Until more 
room is provided, many of the smaller collections cannot be classified for exhibition. The 
Museum owns the great serpent mound, in Adams county, Ohio, which has been laid out as a 
park. It has also conducted explorations in man)- parts of the United States. It issues from 
time to time "Memoirs" and special reports. 



By the terms of Mr. IVabody's gift, the Museum was contmlkil bs' a board of self 
perpetuating Trustees. On January i, 1897, these Trustees signed an indenture with the 
President and Fellows of llar\ard College, vesting in the latter the property and management 
of the Museum. 


In 1889, Mr. Jacob IT. Schiff gave $10,000 " for the iMuchase of objects illustrating Semitic 
life, history and art." This was the beginning of the Semitic Musluui, which was formally 
opened on May 13, 1S91. Temporary quarters were made for it in the then new section of 
the I'eabody Museum. The collection at present comprises casts of some of the most interest- 
iiv .\ss\Tian, Persian, Hebrew and I'hrenician monuments in the ICuropean Museums; of 
\-arioi!s Semitic manuscrijits of dinVreiit periods; of original antiiiuities, such as Cufic mortuary 


tablets, Babylonian building bricks, clay books, pottery, coins and engraved seals ; photographs, 
etc. An alabaster tablet, of the fourteenth century, B. C, recording the restoration of a temple 
at Asshur, the Assyrian capital, is among the chief treasures. The IMuscum has been, since its 
foundation, under the charge of Professor D. G. Lj'on. l^\en in its restricted quarters it has 
become the resort of many \'isitors and its collections arc of course \aluable for all students ot 
Biblical subjects. It needs money for a building in which it can properly exhibit its present 
possessions and have room to grow. 




The Botanic Garden was founded in 1805, Dr. Benjamin Waterhouse being apparently 
entitled to the credit of starting it. About seven acres of land on Garden and Linnean Streets 
were acquired and laid out, and in 1810 the Director's house and the first conservatories were 
constructed. For man\- \ears this department depended wholly on subscriptions for its support. 
It was most fortunate in securing, in 1842, Asa Gray, the most eminent of American botanists, 
as its Director; from that time, until his death in 1888, Professor Gray labored, against many 

difficulties, to make the 
worthy of his own rcpu- 
sity. In large measure, 
den now cultivates more 
cies of flowering plants ; 
erected in 1864 by Na- 
of $15,000 and named 
taining about a quarter 
a library — part of which 
John A. Lowell — of nearly 
pamphlets. Its grounds 
daily to the public. Flow- 
thc instruction in botany 
greenhouses or, at certain 
Arboretum. The Depart- 
several years past a bota- 
of the exceedingly rich 
botanical sections in the 
prising the laboratories 
Crjptogamic Botany, the 
Flowers, and the collec- 
specimens illustrating 


Botanic Department 
tation and of the Univer- 
he succeeded. The Gar- 
than five thousand spe- 
lt has an Herbarium 
thaniel Thayer at the cost 
after Professor Gray, con- 
of a million sheets, and 
was given in 1865, by 
twelve thousEnd books and 
and greenhouses are open 
ers required to illustrate 
are provided from 
seasons, from the Arnold 
ment has employed for 
nist to collect specimens 
flora of Mexico. To the 
University Museum, com- 
of Phanerogamic and 
Ware collection of Glass 
tions of fossils and of 
economic botany, refer- 

ence has already been made. Professor Gra>- bequeathed to the Garden the copyright on 
his works ; but the income of this important branch of the Universit)-, is still inadequate and 


This is a school of Agriculture and Horticulture, founded by Benjamin Bussey, who died in 
1835, but whose estate did not come into Harvard's possession until 1861. Property in Jamaica 
Plain, valued at $413,000, was transferred to the University: one-fourth of the income was, 
according to the terms of Mr. Busse\-'s will, applied to the Divinit\- School, and one-fourth to 
the Law School. In 1871, a building was erected: sheds and greenhouses soon followed. In 
1870, James Arnold bequeathed $100,000 for the encouragement of Agriculture and Horticul- 
ture, and with thir, sum nurseries — the so-called "Arnold Arboretum " — were established in 
connection with Bussey Institution, where a park, open to the public, has been laid out, the 
City of Boston co-operating with the Harvard Corporation for its maintenance. In 1879. a 
Professorship of Agriculture was founded. 



The building of the Busscy Institution consists of an office, a libran-, class-rooms, exhibition- 
rooms and a laboratory. Systematic instruction is given in Agriculture, and in Useful and Orna- 
mental Gardening. It is " meant for young men who intend to become farmers, gardeners, 
florists, or landscape gardeners, as well as for those who will naturally be called upon to man- 
age large estates, or who wish to qualify themselves to be o\'erseers or superintendents of farms, 
country-seats, parks, towns, highwa\s, or public institutions." Despite its ample equipment, 
the Hussey Institution has not )et attracted many students, chiefly for the reason that it has 
to compete with Agricultural Schools endowed by the State in which students are taught, 
fed and lodged at small or no cost to themselves. But the recent promotion of landscape 
gardening to the circle of professions at once fashionable and lucrali\e seems to promise 

for the Bussey a larger 
degree of Bachelor of 
conferred for the first 
dents. It is interesting 
Parkman, the eminent 
Professor of Horticulture 
The Arnold Arbo- 
part of the Bussc}- l-'arni 
acres in extent, and under 
Charles S. Sargent, and 
landscape architect, it 
formeil into one of the 
in the world. The City 
and maintains its roads, 
pervision : in return, the 
to the public. It has 
an out-door museum : 
two miles and a half past 
shrubs without finding 
inwamlerinsamontj hem- 

DE^'J.\^^.\ bussey 

attendance. In 1879, the 
.Agricultural Science was 
time on one of its stu- 
to note that I'rancis 
historian, was the first 

return, which occupies 
in West Roxbtiry, is 230 
liie direction of Professor 
of ]■'. L. Olmsted, the 
has rapidly been trans- 
most beautiful small parks 
of Boston has laid out 
and provides police su- 
iXrboretum is kept open 
been aptly described as 
for one can "walk for 
thousands of labelled 
two alike, or spend days 
locks and chestnuts and 

beeches and oaks and maples and scores of other kinds of trees \\ithout seeing all the \'aricties 
that are represented. . . . All the trees of the world that are capable of enduring the New 
ICngland climate are here arranged according to the order of natural classification, from mag- 
nolias to conifers, and so planted as to liarnionize with the portions of the original wooilland 
which it has been found desirable to preser\e. There are typical specimens of each species of 
tree, and also specimens of its natural and artificial x'arieties. The young trees are raised from 
seed planted in the nurseries of the Arboretum, where all kinds of foreign, as well as domestic, 
plants are tried and tlieir adaptability and usefulness studied in their \arious stages of growth. 
The most healthy and promising arc selected and set out in holes twenty-five feet square, filled 
with good earth, and then the most thrifty from among these arc permanently retained by being 
planted one hundred feet apart in still larger holes, filled with rich soil. Shrubs and vines are 
treated in a similar wa\- in places set a[)art for them, where the earth is fertile and where they 
develop in wild and beautifiil luxuriance." ' 

J F. li. Wiley: T/ie J/,u-.anl Guide Boot (1S95), 104-6. 



The Museum of the Arboretum, the building; for -which, costing $io,000, was given by 
H. II. Hunnewell, contains a vahiable hbrary of 5500 vokmies and 6000 pamphlets, specimens 

liL'JS'lA' L\.<lirL-lION 

of woods — presented by Morris K. Jcssup — an herbarium of ligneous plants, and offices. 
Any one properly qualified for the study of practical arboriculture or forestry maj' be 
admitted to the Arboretum as a student. Under tlie management of Professor Sargent 




"Garden and Forest," a weekly paper, was published. He is also the author of "The Silva 
of North America," a monumental work which has reached its tenth volume. 


In 1891, Mrs. William Hayes Fogg, of New York, died, and bequeathed to the Corporation 
$218,000, with several works of art, jewelry and bric-a-brac, to found an Art Museum. In 
1894, a building designed by Richard Morris Hunt, was begun on land l\ing north of 
Appleton Chapel and facing on Cambridge Street. The building was completed the follow- 
ing year at a cost of $150,000, besides $10,000 for tiMures and furniture, and about $I0,000 
for casts and photographs. It contains several exhibition-rooms and a large lecture hall, 
which has turned out, acoustically, luisatisfactory. Messrs. Martin Brimmer and K. W. Hooper, 

1 ()<;(; .\KV MUSKUM 

the Committee of the Ctirporalion lia\iiii; the Museum in charge, deciilcd that it should be a 
laboratory for the use of students of the history of art rather than a museum fur the exhibition 
of original paintings and sculpture. Accordingly, it has been fitted out with casts of typical, 
antique and Renaissance statues, and with over fifteen thousand of the best photographs of 
paintings and frescoes. The Gray Collection of ICngravings, belonging to the Universitj-, was 
for many jears deposited in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, and the portraits of dis- 
tinguished alumni — many of which arc of artistic value and all of which have historic or 
personal interest — are still hung in Memorial Hall or in the Faculty Room. 



The First Two Centuries 

HAVIXG thus followed the corporate and material growth of Harvard, let us now briefly 
review the course of education, and compare, so far as the records allow, the studies 
and methods which at different periods were; supposed to be necessary and sufficient to bestow 
a liberal culture upon the students. At the outset, since Harvard was prc-eminenth' a the- 
ological seminary, the studies were chiefly theological, and tended to the training of ministers 
for the Puritan Colony. According to the laws passed in President Dunster's time, the follow- 
ing was required of candidates to the Freshman Class : " When any scholar is able to read Tully 
or such like classical Latin author extempore, and make and speak true Latin in verse and 
prose sua (ut aiiait) Martc, and decline perfecth' the paradigms of nouns and verbs in the 
Greek tongue, then may he be admitted into the College, nor shall any claim admission before 
such qualification." The scholars read the Scriptures twice a day; they had to repeat, or 
epitomize the sermons preached on Sunday ; and were frequently examined as to their own 
religious state. "The studies of the first year," says Ouincy, "were Logic, Physics, Etymology, 
Syntax and Practice on the Principles of Grammar. Those of the second year, ICthics, Politics, 
Prosody and Dialects, Practice of Poesy and Chaldee. Those of the third. Arithmetic, Geometry, 
Astronomy, Exercises in Style, Composition, Epitome, both in prose and verse, Hebrew and 
Syriac. In every year and every week of the College course every class was practised in the 
Bible and Catechetical Divinity; also in History in the winter, and in the Nature of Plants in the 
summer. Rhetoric was taught b\' lectures in every year, and each student was required to 
declaim once a month."' Another rule, dating from Dunster's administration, was: "The 
scholars shall ne\er use their mother tongue, except that in public exercises of oratorj-, or such 
like, the}' be called to make them in English." It is presumable that the ordinary student 
acquired a fair knowledge of Latin, while those who were destined for the ministry learned 
a sufficiency of Greek and Hebrew. The teaching was conducted b)- the President and t\vo 
Tutors, who were occasionally assisted hy a graduate candidate for a higher degree. 

In 1650, the Overseers first ordered a visitation; "Between the lOth of June," runs their 
vote, " and the Commencement, from nine o'clock to eleven in the forenoon, and from one 
to three in the afternoon of thc^econd and third day of the week, all scholars of two years' 
standing shall sit in the Hall to be examined b}' all comers in the Latin, Greek and Hebrew 
tongues, and in Rhetoric, Logic and Physics ; and they that expect to proceed Bachelors that 
year to be examined of their sufficiency according to the laws of the College; and such as 

1 Quincy, i, 191. 


expect to proceed Master of Arts to cxliibit their synopsis of acts required by tlic laws of the 
College." The qualifications for Bachelors were as follows: "Every scholar that, on jjroof, 
is found able to read the original of the Old and New Testament into the Latin tongue, and 
to resolve them logicall)-, withal being of honest life and con\ersation, and at any public act 
hath the approbation of the Overseers and Masters of the College, maj- be invested with 
his first degree." The undergraduate course was originally three years; in 1654, it was 
extended to four \ears. The candidate for Master of Arts was required to study an addi- 
tional year or till such time as he " giveth up in writing a .sjnopsis or summarj- of Logic, 
Natural and Moral Philosophy, Arithmetic, Geometry and Astronomj-, and is read>- to defend 
his theses or positions, withal skilled in the originals, as aforesaid, and still continues honest 
and studious, at an\- public act, after trial, he shall be capable of the second degree." 

This was the general nature of the College curriculum during the seventeenth century. In 
1726, Tutors Flynt, Welstccd and Prince made the following report, which is interesting because 
it mentions not only the subjects studied, but also the text-books used: 

" I, While the students are I'reshmcn they common]}' recite the Grammars, and with them 
a recitation in Tull}% Virgil and the Greek Testament, on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdaj-s and 
Thursdays, in the morning and forenoon; on P'riday morning Dugard's or P'arnaby's Rhetoric, 
and on Satmday morning the Greek Catechism; and to\\-ards the latter end of the year they 
dispute on Raum's Definitions, Mondays ami Tuesdays in the forenoon. 

" 2. The Sophomores recite Burgersdicius's Logic and a manuscript called New Logic in 
the mornings and forenoons; and towards the latter end of the year, Ileereboord's Meletemata, 
and dispute Monda\-s and Tuesdays in the forenoon, continuing also to recite the classic 
authors, with Logic antl Natural Philosoph)-; on Salurdaj' mornings they recite W'ollebius' 

"3. The Junior Sophisters recite Ileereboord's Meletemata, Mr. Morton's Physics, More's 
Ethics, Geography, Metaphysics, in the mornings and forenoons ; W'ollebius on Saturday morn- 
ing; and dispute MondaN's and Tucsdaj's in the forenoon. 

" 4. The Senior Sophisters, besides Arithmetic, recite Allsted's Geometr)', Gasscndus's 
Astronomy, in the morning; go over the Arts towards the latter end of the \-ear, Ames's 
Medulla on Saturdays, and dispute once a week." 

At this time Monis, a con\'erted Jew, ga\'e instruction in Hebrew, and all students, except 
Freshmen, were required to attend his recitations four times a week. One exercise was " the 
writing the Hebrew and Rabbinical," and the others were copying the grammar and reading, 
reciting it and reading, construing, parsing, translating, composing, reading without points. 
The foundation, b\- Thomas HoUis, of a Chair of I)i\inity, added a Professor to the small corps 
of teachers. The HoUis Professor had charge of the instruction in theology, and was directed 
to begin each exercise with a short prayer. He gave both public and private lectures, and 
prepared students in Divinity for the ministr)\ In 1735, many of the students were permitted b)' 
the Faculty to take lessons in French of a certain Longloisserie, who had, however, no official 
connection with the College ; this permission was revoked when charges of heresy were pre- 
ferred against the Frenchman. The endowment by Hollis of a Professorship of Mathematics, 
placed mathematical and scientific study on a surer basis, although Theology and the Classics 
were still esteemed the chief sources of learning. The philosophical apparatus, destroyed b.\- 
the burning of Harvard Hall in 1764, was sufficiently extensive for conducting the experiments 
and illustrating the laws of science as taught at that time. There were, among other things, 


two complete skeletons and anatomical cuts, a pair of globes of the largest size, machines for 
experiments in Mechanics, Hydrostatics, Pneumatics and Optics, microscopes, telescopes (one 
of twenty-four feet), "a brass quadrant of two feet radius, carrying a telescope of a greater 
length, which formerly belonged to the celebrated Dr. Halley." ' 

In 1756, the 0\erseers, desirous of raising the standard of elocution, suggested that the 
Corporation should take measures for that purpose. Accordingly, it was voted " that the usual 
declamations in the Chapel should be laid aside, and in their stead the President should select 
some ingenious dialogue, either from Erasmus's ' Colloquies,' or from some other polite Latin 
author, and that he should appoint as many students as there are persons in such dialogue, 
each to personate a particular character and to translate his part into polite English, and pre- 
pare himself to deli\cr it in the Chapel in an oratorical manner." The Overseers themselves 
occasionally attended the performance of these dialogues, and sometimes " expressed their 
acceptance and approbation." An effort was likewise made at this time to encourage »reater 
diligence in the stud}- uf Latin, Greek and Hebrew, and to promote " disputations in English in 
the forensic manner," but the effort was not very successful. 

In 1760, we have a recommendation which seems to be the origin of the regular 
examination s\'stem : it was \-oted " that twice in a }ear, in the Spring and Fall, each 
class should recite to their Tutors, in the presence of the President, Professors and Tutors, 
in the several books in which they are reciting to their re-spective Tutors, and that 
publicly in the College Hall or Chapel ; and that the two senior classes do once every 
half year, in the same presence, but under the direction of the .Mathematical Professor, 
give a specimen of their progress in philosophical and mathematical learning." In 1761, 
the Overseers made suggestions with a view to the improvement of the students in Latin, 
recommending " that more classical authors should be introduced and made part of the 
exercises, and that Horace should be earlier entered upon." From these various recom- 
mendations the custom arose of holding public exhibitions before visiting committees of 
the Overseers ; but the visitors soon found it irksome to listen to recitations and sopho- 
moric eloquence, which, they said, although creditable, " did not afford sufficient scope for 
the display of genius." In Mav 1763, a report was made "that Horace is more in use 
than it has been, that Caesar's ' Commentaries ' has been recently introduced, and that 
the several classes translate English into Latin once ever}- fortnight.' We learn from 
Nathaniel Ames's diar\' that, at this time, " Watts's Logick " was studied by the Fresh- 
men, and that Homer and Euclid were begun early in the Sophomore year; also, that 
at the forensic disputes such subjects as " The Soul is not E.xtendcd " and " The Future 
State is Revealed b\- the Light of Nature " were discussed. 

In 1766, semi-annual exhibitions became a regular part of the College work. At the 
same time the s\'stem of teaching was re-organized. Theretofore each Tutor had taught 
"all the branches to the class assigned to him throughout the whole collegiate course;" 
now each Tutor had charge of a special department, and taught that subject to the 
classes in turn : one Tutor had Greek ; another, Latin ; another. Logic, Metaphysics and 
Ethics; and the fourth. Natural Philosophy, Geography, Astronomy and the elements of 
Mathematics. On Frida_\- and Saturday each class was instructed in Elocution, English 
Composition, Rhetoric, " and other parts of the Belles-Lettres," by another Tutor. The 
Divinity Professor had charge of all the instruction in Divinity. All .scholars attended 

1 .\ complete list of the apparatus destroyed may be found in Quincy's History, ii, 4S2-4S3. 
vol.. I. — to 


" tlic Tutors on Monthns, Tuesdays. Wcdiicstlays ami 'l"luirsda>s thixc times a da>-, and 
once a da_\- on I-"riila>s and Saturdaj-s." Senior Sopliisters ceased to attend recitations 
at the end i)f June; tlie lower classes worked until Cmnniencenicnt week. 

This general scheme was preserved down to the present centurw In 1790, annual 
examinations were formally established, " to animate the students in the pursuit of literary 
merit and fame, and to excite in their breasts a noble spirit of emulation." The examina- 
tion was oral, and if any student neglected or refused to attend, he was liable to a tine 
not exceeding twenty shillings, or to be admonished or suspended. The students at first 
rebelled, and one of them was expelled " upon evidence of a little boy " that he threw 
a stone through the window of the philosopher's room — where the examiners were in 
session — and struck the chair occupied by Governor Hancock. 

Instruction in science during the third quarter of the eighteenth century was given by 
Professor John Winthrop, a friend of Franklin, and one of the ablest scientific investi- 
gators of his time. He conceived a theorv of carthcpiakcs, observed the transits of Mer- 
cu.-v (1740) and that of \'enus (1761), explained the nature of comets, and experimented 
in many branches of what was then called " Natural Philosoph}." When some of the Ortho- 
dox had scruples against using lightning-rods, because, they said, thunder and lightning 
were tokens of the Divine displeasure, and that " it was a degree of impiety to endeavor to 
prevent them from doing their full execution," Professor Winthrop rejoined in an essa_\' that 
" Divine Providence did not govern the material world b\- in. mediate and extraordinary 
interposition of power, but by stated general laws ; " wlurefore, it is as much " our dut}- 
to secure ourselves against the effects of lightning, as from those of rain, snow or winil, by 
the means God has put into our hands." In 17S3, the appointment of John Warren 
and Benjamin Waterhouse to be respectively Professor of /Vnatomy and Surgery and 
Professor of the Theory and Practice of Physic extended the instruction of the College 
into a new field. In 1792, a Chair of Chemistr\' and Materia Medica was added. But 
these three Professorships were really the nucleus of the Medical .School, and the courses 
given through them hardly belonged to the College prt)per. 

Of the modern languages French received the earliest attention. In 1735, as stated 
above, Longloisscrie had been granted permission to teach that language. In 1780, 
similar permission was accorded to Simon I'oullin ; although he recei\-ed no official 
appointment, " he was allowed the same privileges with Tutors as to the Library and Com- 
mons, and a chamber in the College," and his tuition fees were charged in the quarterly 
bills. Two }-ears later Albert Gallatin was allowed to teach on the same terms, and in 
1787, Jose])h Xancrede was regularh' appointed instructor. In 1S16, Francis Sales taught 
both French and Spanish. In 1825, Charles Folsom was instructor in Italian, and Charles 
FoUen instructor in German ; and the next year Portuguese appears on the list of studies. 

In 1784, the attendance of Resident Graduates, Seniors and Juniors, who were not preparing 
for the ministry, upon a part of the exercises of the Professor of Di\inity, was no longer 
required ; but the two upper classes had to recite once a week from Doddridge's Lectures, and 
to attend the Professor's weekly lecture " on some topic of positive or controversial divinity." 
At this time, also, Sallust and YAxy were introduced into the Latin department, and in 
the Greek Xenophon's Anabasis was substituted for his Cyropcedia. In 1787, Horace, Sallust, 
Cicero (Z)r Oratore), Homer and Xenophon took the place of Virgil, Cicero's Orations, 
C.'Esar and the Greek Testament, and the number of recitations was increased. The 




Classics formed the backbone of instruction during tlic first three years: in addition, the 
Freshmen studied Rhetoric, the Art of Speaking and Arithmetic ; the Sophomores had Algebra 
and other Mathematical branches ; the Juniors had Livy, Doddridge's Lectures and the 
Greek Testament ; the Seniors had Logic, Metaphysics and Ethics. For the two lower 
classes Hebrew ' was prescribed, for which French might be substituted. All the classes had 
instruction in Declamation, Chronology and History. Blair's Rhetoric was introduced as a 
text-book in 178S. In 1805, a Professorship of Natural Histor)- was founded by subscription. 

In 1803, the standard of admission to the Freshmen Class was raised. A candidate 
was now required to pass a satisfactory examination in Dalzel's Collectanea Grceca Minora. 
the Greek Testament, Virgil, Sallust and Cicero's Select Orations ; he must have a thorough 
acquaintance with the Greek and Latin Grammars, including Prosody; he must be able to 
translate these languages correcth', and be proficient in Arithmetic to the rule of three 
and in Geograph}-. 

In 1820, a Chair of Mineralog}- and Geology was established. By this time the founda- 
tions of a real University had been laid ; the Medical, Law and Divinity departments were 
growing up, and in the College itself several of the branches had so increased in impor- 
tance that more than one teacher was needed to direct them. The erection of new 
buildings, the creation of new Professorships, and the increase in the number of students, 
all indicated expansion, and called for corresponding impro\ements in methods. Doubtless, 
too, the influence of foreign methods in Universit)" education began to appear at Harvard, 
to which Edward Everett and George Ticknor, as teachers, came after pursuing a course of 
higher stud}- in Europe. 

Beginnings of the Elective System 

IN May 1824, a committee appointed by the 0\erseers to report upon the state and needs 
of the College, presented, through its chairman, Joseph Story, a report recommending 
" that the College studies shall be divided into two classes ; the first embracing all such studies 
as shall be indispensable to obtain a degree ; the second, such in respect to which the students 
ma\-, to a limited extent, exercise a choice which they will pursue." It was further recom- 
mended that students who were not candidates for a degree be admitted to pursue particular 
studies to qualify them for scientific and mechanical employments and the active business of 
life. The first suggestion was the germ of the Elective System ; the second suggestion, only 
recenth- given a fair trial, opened the facilities of Harvard to special and graduate students. 
Both were strongly opposed b\- the F"acult>-. It is a noteworthy fact that the habitual attitude 
of the leading Colleges in England and America has been stubbornlj- conser\ative. The great 
pioneers in literature, philosophy and morals were not College Professors : this is perhaps not 
surprising, because the Professorial mind is acquisitive and critical rather than creative and 
original. The teacher, whose work is largeh- a work of repetition and routine, comes to rely 
upon methods; whereas, it is a sign of originality to scorn methods. In the Continental Lni- 
versities of the Middle Age the foremost men of the time were often to be found in the corps 

1 A Hebrew Commencement part was delivered as late as 1S17. 


of lecturers; as at Paris, to cite a single insiance, during the thirteenth century. And in our 
own century, the Universities in France, (iermany and Italy have had among their lecturers 
men who represented the most progressi\e thought in each of these countries. Hut in I'.ngland 
and America, with occasional exceptions, this was rarely the case. Conservatism, one of the 
strongest traits of the Anglo-Saxon race, has had no stronger fortresses than the American and 
English seats of learning. Consequently our Professors of one generation ha\e been expound- 
ing the views of thinkers whom the Professors of the preceding generation frowned upon. 

So radical a change, therefore, as the proposed election by students of the courses which 
they would study filled the conservative Faculty of Harvard with alarm. The theory of edu- 
cation which then obtained regarded all youths between the ages of fifteen and t\vent>- as hav 
ing the same tastes and the same capacities; each to be dosed with learning similar in kind 
and quantit\- to that prescribed to his fellows. The Bachelor's Degree was the proof that the 
Facult\- had succeeded, after a four years' trial, in pouring a certain number of similar facts into 
the brains of all those who received it. The Klcctive System, on the other hand, recognized 
that each \-outh differed from every other, and that the subject best fitted to de\elop the mental 
powers of one might have no such effect on another. Admitting this, it proposed, so far as 
possible, to find out the peculiar capacities of each student, and to pro\ ide the instruction most 
congenial to them. 

In spite of the opposition of the I'aculty, the Overseers and Corjjoration adopted the 
recommendations, but these were carried out \er\- im]Krfectl\-. In 1824, all studies were 
required, except that Juniors might " choose a substitute for thirty-eight lessons in Hebrew, 
and the Seniors had a choice between Chemistr\- and Fluxions." French and Spanish being 
extras, attendance on them was \-oluntar}-. By the rexised Statutes, in 1S26, "a student could 
attend in modern languages after the first third of the I'reshman year in place of certain speci- 
fied courses in Greek, Latin, Topograph)-, Hebrew, and Natural Science, and a Senior might also 
substitute Natural Philosophy for a part of Intellectual Philosoph\-." In practice, the one de- 
partment in which the Flective Sy.stem was fairl\- tried was in the l-"rcnch and Spanish Lan- 
guages and Literature, then under the charge of Professor (ieorge Ticknor. The force of 
teachers was too small to enable the College to offer many elective courses, e\en had the pre- 
vailing sentiment been in favor of so doing ; but in the department of Modern Languages there 
were five instructors — quite enough for the demands made ui)on them, .Above all. Professor 
Ticknor was an earnest adx'ocate of the reform, and bent his energ>- to show its superiority over 
the traditional methods. In 1833, he reported: "The s_\stem of volunteer stud\- was begun in 
this department in 1826 with thirteen students. The number of students embracing it has con- 
stantly increased every year; and now exceeds the number of regular students. The teachers 
are particularly gratified with the proficiency of their volunteer students." The number of 
volunteer students in modern languages in 1833, was one hundred and three out of two hundred 
and ten who took these courses. In his report for 1830-31, President Ouincy announced 
that the system had been introduced, under very favorable auspices, by Dr. Beck in the 
Latin, and by Mr. Felton in the Greek departments. In 1834, regulations were adopted 
" which established a minimum in Mathematics, Greek, Latin, ^Modern Languages, Theology, 
Moral and Intellectual Philosophy, Logic and Rhetoric, level to the capacity of faithful students 
in the lowest third of a class, and provided that students who had attained the minimum in 
any branch might elect the studies which they would pursue in place thereof, being formed into 
sections of not less than six members, without regard to classes, and having additional instruc- 



tion pro\idcd for them. The minimum covers about all the instruction rcgularl\- provided bv 
the College ia the departments named." 

Nevertheless, the innovation made but little progress except in Professor Ticknor's depart- 
ment. " I have succeeded entirely," he wrote in 1835, "but I can get these changes carried no 
further. As long as I hoped to advance them, I continued attached to the College ; when I 
gave up all hope I determined to resign. ... If, therefore, the department of Modern Lan- 
guages is right, the rest of the College is wrong." Professor Longfellow, who succeeded Mr. 
Ticknor, was fortunately imbued with his ideas, and continued his methods. In 1838, Professor 
Benjamin Peirce proposed that Mathematics should be dropped at the end of the Freshman 
\ear, any student who so dropped them to be allowed to substitute Natural Histor)-, Ci\il 

History, Chemistr\-, Geog- 
addition to the prescribed 
lacked the means to pro- 
of those branches. In 
mendation of Professors 
poration ordered " that 
continue the study of Greek 
a substitute one or more 
Natural History, Civil His- 
Geography and the use of 
omy. Modern Languages, 
ture, or studies in either 
not have been discontinued 
scribed course in sucb. 
orders of these studio- 
venience of the instructor 
Faculty, and each student 
in such a number of studies 
the Faculty be sufficient 
whole time." When this 
Overseers, Theophilus Par- 




■■«»f raphy, Greek or Latin, in 
course ; but the College 
\ide instruction in several 
1839, upon the rccom- 
Beck and Felton, the Cor- 
those students who dis- 
or Latin shall choose as 
of the following branches : 
tory, Chemistr)-, Geology-, 
the globes. Popular Astron- 
Modern Oriental Litcra- 
Greek or Latin which may 
in addition to the pre- 
branch. The times and 
will depend on the con- 
and the decision of the 
will be required to engage 
as shall in the judgment of 
reasonably to occupy his 
plan was submitted to the 
.sons wisel)- declared that 

upon their decision hung the question " whether Har\ard College shall or shall not become 
a L'niversit}-. In no institution intended to answer the purposes of a Universit}-, and to be 
called b)- that name, is it attempted to carr\- all the scholars to the same degree of advance- 
ment in all the departments of stud\-. The reason of this is, ob\iousl_\-, that an}- such 
attempt must greatly retard the advancement of the whole." Alread}' Professors Beck and 
Felton in the Classical branches, and Professor Peirce in the Mathematical had testified to 
the complete success of the experiment. In 1840-41. French was a required study, — a 
noteworthy fact, as President Eliot remarks, " for changes in the selection of studies held to 
be essential, and therefore required of all, are quite as important as additions to the list of 
studies which it is agreed should be optional." ' 

The following scheme, adopted in the \ear 1841, show.s concisely the extent to which the 
Elective S\-stem had ad\'ancod : 

1 .\n exhaustive account of the Elective System at Harvard will be found in President Eliot's Report for 1SS4-S5. 



Freshman Vkak. — /'/vjv/v'M/.- Mathematics, Greek, J.atin, History. KUctive: None. 

SoPHOMORK Ykar. — J'nsiii/ifif: English Grammar and Composition, Rhetoric and Declamation, one 
Modern Language, History. Elective: Mathematics, Greek, Latin, Natural History, History, Chemistry, 
Geology, Geography, the use of the globes, and any Modern Language; so far as the means of such 
instruction are witiiin the resources of the I'niversity. 

Junior Vkar. — Prescribe J : English Composition, one Modern Language, Logic, Declamation, Physics, 
Psychology, Ethics, Eorensics, History. Elective: Same as in Sophomore Year, and a more extended 
course in Psychology and Ethics. 

Senior Vkar. — Prescribed: Rhetoric, English Composition, Political I'.conomy. Constitutional Law, 
Eorensics, Theology, History, Declamation. Elective : Political Ethics, a more extended course in Physics, 
and any of the elective studies .ibove enumerated. 

Klcctivo studies were thus generally countenanced, but they were not yet deemed equiva- 
lent, so far as the scale of marks showed, to the prescribed courses; for the Faculty decreed 
that " in forming the scale of rank at the end of a term, there shall be deducted from the 
aggregate marks given for an elected study one-half of the iiiaximuni marks for each exer- 
cise in such elected study; so that a student by only obtaining one-half of the maximum 
marks adils nothing to his aggregate, and b)- obtaining less than lialf is subject to a propor- 
tionate reduction." 

Professors Beck, Fclt<in, IV-ircc and Longfellow continued to be the upholders of this broad 
system of instruction, and they reported from year to year the advances made in their respective 
departments; but the opposition was still strong, cither from the conviction of some of the 
Faculty that the system was bad in itself, or from the inability of the College to provide a suffi- 
cient number of courses to make the system equally serviceable in all tlirections. In I S47 it was 
no longer in vogue in Philosoph>- ; two years earlier the Faculty prohibited any student, unless 
for especial reasons, to study more than one modern language at a time. Mr. Longfellow 
protested ag.ainst this cxclusiveness, but, although he appealed to the Corporation, the rule 
was maintained. In 1846, " Chemistry was a required stud_\- in tlic I-rcshman year instead of an 
elective study from the beginning of the Sophomore year; no modern language was required in 
either the Sophomore or the Junior year; the elective course in Geology was confined to the Senior 
year, instead of being accessible from the beginning of the Sophomore year; no clecti\'e course 
in Geography was provided; Story's Constitution was a required stud_\- for Juniors instead of 
Seniors; Psychology and Ethics were elective instead of required for Juniors; and Political Ethics 
were required instead of elective for Seniors." " If the number of elective studies had been 
large," says President Eliot, in criticising these regulations, " the scheme would ha\c been a very 
liberal one, for election began early and the number of studies prescribed in the last three years 
was not large. The number of elective studies was, however, so small as practically to confine 
the choice of the students within narrow limits." The Facult\- then consisted of only elc\cn 
members, and there were but six instructors in addition; the students then (1846) numbered 
279. President Everett requested the opinions of the Faculty as to the advisability of continu- 
ing the system of elective studies. The opinions were evenly divided, but those Professors who 
had given it the best trial were in favor of it. A new scheme was adopted (December 29, 1846), 
which, with many modifications, lasted twenty years. " It allowed every Senior to select three 
from the following studies, namely, Greek, Latin, Mathematics, German, Spanish and Italian, and 
every Junior to select three from the same studies, Italian excepted. AH other studies were 
prescribed; but among the prescribed studies were \atural History for Freshmen and Sopho- 




mores, and French and Psychology for Sophomores." Thus every Senior and Junior who did 
not select .Mathematics had to study three languages during the last two years, as well as during 
the Sophomore >ear. The number of exercises was also increased ; Freshmen had sixteen and 


Seniors twent\'-three per week. In 1S49. this excess was relieved b}- requiring only two instead 
of three elective studies from Seniors and Juniors. 

President Sparks, like President Everett, was hostile to the elective system, and soon 
introduced changes which narrowed its scope. No Junior or Senior might take more than one 


elective; if he took more than one, it was regarded as an " extra," and did not count. Professor 
Peirce vigorously opposed this retrograde step, and he was seconded by Professors Beck and 
Longfellow. " The \ uluntarj' S)'steni, as it has been called," wrote President Sparks in his 
last Report (1851-52), "is still retained to a certain extent, rather from necessity than pref- 
erence. The number and variety of the studies for which the University has provided instruc- 
tion are so large that it is impossible for an)- student, within the period of four years, to gi\e 
such a degree of attention to them as will enable him to acquire more than a limited and 
superficial knowledge from ^\ hich little profit can be derived." " The last sentence is," 
to quote President Eliot, " an unanswerable argument for an electi\e s)-stem in a University." 
In 1856-57, a further curtailment was made; French was again optional; Juniors were 
required to take two out of the three studies, Latin, (ireck and Mathematics, and a half-jear's 
course in !\Iolecular Ph\sics was required of them. In 1858, Chemistry was made electi\e 
for Juniors; in 1862, Patristic and Modern Greek was added to the free list. German, Spanish 
and elementary Italian were also included among the Senior and Junior electi\'es, but as the 
highest mark attainable in an)- of them was onl)- six, instead of eight — the maximum in 
required studies — " students who had any regard for College rank w ere debarred from 
pursuing these under\'alucd elective studies." 

Recent E\i'.\.\siox 

IN 1865, the advocates of the I-Llective System were once more in the maiorit)'. The Facult)-, 
although still small in luimbcr, and oxcrworkcd through the custom of dixiding classes 
into small sections, voted "that Botany be made an elective stud)- in the Junior )ear, that 
Greek in that )ear be an elective instead of a required stud)', and that Juniors be allowed 
two elective studies instead of one ; that German should be introduced as a required stud)- 
into the second term of the Sophomore )ear, and that Roman Histor)-, Gnek Histor)- and 
Philosoph)-, and German should be added to the electi\'e studies of the Junior )-ear. 
Subsequently, Greek poetry was cadded." In 1867, a new scheme was drawn up, according 
to w-hich all the work of the Freshman )-ear was required; the Sophomores had seven hours 
a week rcquirdi, aivd six hours elective; the Juniors and Seniors had six hours required, and 
six or nine hours elective. But slight changes occurred until 1870, when, b)- raising the 
tuition fee from $104 to $150 per annum, the increase of income enabled the employment of 
a larger force of instructors and the consequent extension of the F'lective S\stem. Year b\- 
)-ear the number of ret|uirctl studies was lessened. In 1S72, the .Seniors were free to choose 
all their courses; in 1879, this privilege reached the Juniors; in 1884, it was extended to the 
Sophomores. In the latter )-ear the Freshmen had nine hours a week of electives and seven 
hours of required studies. But for all the classes a certain number of themes and foren- 
sics was prescribed. 

In 1885, the Elective S)-stem was brought to its logical conclusion by being extended 
to Freshmen. At the present time (1897) the onl\- prescribed work is: /vY.f//w/r;/, Rhetoric 


154 UNll'I'.RSIIII'.S y/Mi I II 1:1 R SONS 

i'iikI l'Ji(;lisli ( 'miipiisiliiin, three Ikmiis a wcel^, .iiid riiln r (niin.iii uv I'lciu li ; Sojiltdinofcs, 
twelve 1 liemeH, u'itli lectures .mil discussions (il \\\>.\uvs\ Jioiiois, I'Diciisics. 

'i'lii- twu le.iiliii(.; objections lo llie I'.lectivc Syslein — (irst, tli;it sliulentH (p.ntit ul.iil)' 
l'"reslnnen) ciimiol he trusted to sdii I liic sliidies best titlnl fni- tin ir (ievelojniiciit ; 
;uid second, ill, it some stn<lents will Ijej^in lno c ,n ly to speciali/i . .unl ,i> l.iil ic dci ive ;i hlicral 
ecliii,ilinn liMiii tlli'ir Colle(.;e tl'llillinj; — ll,i\ e been r(|ii,ill\' dispiovcd by tin- e\pi t iinc iil 
at ll.irv.nd up lo tin- pusenl time. 'I'he nmnbci i.t lliosc who, llii(in;;li mIIiik ., oi 
injlldicioii . I 111. 1(1, h.iM l.iijid, li.i . been very smi,i1I, ,ind is consliinll)' j.cpl dovMi by the 
checks uliiili llh ImiiHis li.e. pro\ idi-d — frecpienl esMininalions, imd the ,i|)pointment of ;i 
nil niliri III ilir l',i iili\ lo I on-. nil wilh .nid imrjook en h .liidinl. In i,S,Si;, ihr ( )verseers, 
feaiini.; loo ni,in)' ol the stiidiiii'. iniidil abuse the privilege of \oliml,M')' .illiiid.ini r ,il 
lectiiic;, su^;t;eslid ,i nmii ,tiiit iiiillind ol in.iil.iilj; absences ,ind ol registration should 
be ,ii|iipled; and Hii . hi. Im i n, I'lHi imm mm h i ii linn . .is ihise iiuist sooni'r or 
later bi .ib.iiidi iind, u Inn llir idisi ol ,i ( 'niv risit)' slimilil be liiiiiiiplr. iml .i iilniiii 
school, iiiil ,1 sruiin,ir)', not .i subsliinli Ini .iiprriiilcndiin c , bill .i lir.i-.iii)- of Iciiiiin^' 
from whii h evny piopeily ipi.ililiid pi 1. 1)11 ui.iN ili.nv in piopmliuii In his .ibilit)'. ( )in 
Ainericm public ,tnd most ol oiii rdm .iti h . .ii r .nil ton tiidilly bound b)' the traditions iLilinj; 
hniii .1 liuir wlirii io||e|;es weii' bill lip'lii 1 bii.ii iliiij' -.1 hools, to ic.ili/e as ycl the sij,'- 
nihc,mi:e .iiid ilir Mipii ioiiu 1. 1 ihr University idisil tou',uds \\liiili uc h,i\r snu, in 
this briel iiAiiw, ll.ii\.iii| ■.Usiilily .ip|)roacliin(.;. 

Willi the iMinvlh III ihi- I'Jrrtive Ss'steni there li.r. rjnwii up ,i i lass of special stiidenls, not 
C.indld.lli- . III! .1 drpii-e, .ind nl ;'l ,idil.i|r .liidrlil , wlm rilllrr drsilC to Like .1 lllidlrr drjMee or 
t" pill .IM' I'lr a liiiii' SI mil- bi.iin li of .nb .iiu id study. ( )r llir I'l n iiirr, I In- .k-cim^m- 
numb I bcUveen iH.' I S (7 im liisive w,is onl\' llii rr. .nnl lilile .ild iil ii m w.i , p.iid to Uu in. 
In till- killer )'ear the Scielllillc .School was o|>(ni d, .Hid Im dm I yi .11 . .ill ils iiunibri . win- 
(icsi^Mi.iled " .1 iii Inil .." Ill lSv. ihr Si linol \\ .v . pill nil ,1 biit'i' b.isis, ex.imin.ilions lor 
ailmission were reipninl, ,ind (he '■ ," im lnii;;iT .illiinlrd, Il w.i . imt iiiilil i.S;!,, the 
("olIe^M- was ap..un 1 illn 1. illy opened " to iicimhi, nnl Ir.s lli.iu I\m iit)'-(Mle )e,iis old, who sli, ill 
s,itisly the i'acuIlN' n| I Inn Illness |o pursue tin- p.ii In 11 1. 11 1 inn .is llie>' elect, althini^dl the\- have 
nnl p.i . .1 d llir n ,nal imis |ni .nlmis'.inii In ( 'nllej;!-, .md dn iml pinpir.elo be c, nidi 
(kites Im Ihe i|e^r|'i;i; nl Itn Inlm ol Ails." In |S,S|, the restiirlimi .is lo a[;c was .inniilled, .iiid 
prescribed ,is well ,is elective c:oiirses were ollered |n these slndiiil ., tllell 1 .illed " 1 n n 
lated " and (since i.SSj) " speckil." 

II"' • ii .idii.ili' I )ip.ii Iniriii h.i , likewise j^'inwn vii\- i.ipidb'. Il i- .illi-ndid imt nnl\- by 
ll.irv.uil ^r.uhiatcs, but .iKn by those frmii nllnr i nllri;i ■,.' wlm iniiir here In 1 mnplele their 
tr.iinin;; I'he woric ilmie b\- them is, in kni, iln- kind of work which belongs to ,i I hiivcrsit)', 
•nid In Iln . departnieni the best elfortH of lln- I'lnfessms will iiievil.ibly be more .iiul more 
'l''^"l''l .c. the i;inii,il •.l.ind.nd n| li.iiinin,; is r.iised, The hipjler de|;rees ( M.islei nf .Nils, 
Doctor of .Stieiice ,nid Doitm nl I'lnln.opln-) are imili md .ifler mir ni lun years of successful 
f,'ra(lnat<' sliid\- In e,nl\- linn-, c.mdiikiles fnr tin- M,ister's ,ile^;ice were required to s|)enil 
a year in 'In ( nllei'i- ,ifter iheir i-i .idn.itinn, .nnl In p,iss a s,itiskielorv ex.imin.itioii. In iS.|,|, 
this enstnin w,e. .ib.nnlmn d, .nnl Im insii 1\ lliii |\- \e,ii s .in\- mic u Im l.ii.en lln- Ikiilnlm's 
tlcKlee was tiililird In Ihe M.isler's de};ree mi llie p.i\ nniil nl li\e ilnll.n. lliree ycirs after 
t-radn.ition. 'klli .. nf i mirse, depii\(d the de[;ree nf .\..M. nf .ill si hnl.l .tic \.lllle; but since 

I Ihe- iilrinl'i'l . Ill Ilir ( il .iilii.ili' Si li.iiil in I.Sijd-lj; luiiir llolii ,il...iil iiiii. Iv ilillc-iclil ilnliliillollM. 



187:;, no person has received it in course ai Harvard unless ho has fulfilled the revjuircmcnls 
above statetl, and the Master's degree is now a certificate that one year of graduate work has 
been well porfornrod. Durins? the ac.ukMuic year 1 8(X>-97. lliore were two hundred and ninclj- 
live gjaduale suulonls connected with tl>e University, of whom sixteen were non-residents. 
t)f the latter, several were holders of fellowships, by Uie terms of which the incumbents 
are allowed to pursue Ihoir studies abroad uiitlor the direciion of the Acadenuc Council. 

Thus have iho meihods and courses of instruction been slowly libcralizal and improxoti. 
Iho Classics and Maihemalics, before which, as before (K>g and Maj^o-;, etlucators fell down 
aiul worshippeil, dedarinjj theuj to be the only true agents of culture, have gradually been 
placoil in thoiv proper position — not degraded nor laid on the shelf, but prohibited from 
excluding proper reverence for Science, Flisl»>ry and the Motleru l^inguages, which arc now 
recognized as being important means to culture. And the work d<inc in Greek and I^ivin and 
Maihemalics. being no longer obligatory, is more earnest than in the days of compulsion, and 
productive of more good. The old superstition that ihe degree of A,R, will be uninielligible, 
unless all who receive it have taken the same courses, still befogs ihe eyes of some conserva- 
tives ; but experience will certainly dissipale this, together with other ancient delusions, and the 
virtual shortening of the academic course from four to throe years, by entitling a student to his 
ilogroo whenever he sh.dl have passed satisfactorily the required mimber of studies, gives to 
sluilents the full liberty they require. 

The raising of the slandanl of ailmission to Harvard naturally wrought a complete 
change in the leaching of the preparatory .schools. In i8:!~, ihe cantlidalo for the I'reshman 
Class must be thoroughly acquainted with l„alin uhI Cireek, including Prosody ; he 
nuist be able to construe and parse Jacob's Greek Keador, the Gospels in the ("ireek Testament. 
Virgil, Sallust and Cicero's Select Orations, and to translate l-.nglish into l^itin; he nuisi 
be well versed in Ancient and Modern Geography, in the fiuulamontal rules of Aritlunelic, 
in \ulg.vr .uul fractions, in proportion, simple .md compound, in single .u\<.\ double fel- 
lowshi|), in alligation, medial and alternate, antl in Algebra to the '-nd o( simple equations, 
comprehending also the doctrine of roots and powers, auil in Arithmetical and Geometrical 
progression. Now, however, many of the studies formerly taken up in College are embraced 
in the ordin.ary preparatory school curricuhmi. Seventy years ago boys enti-nd ll.uv.ird at the 
age of fourteen; now the average at entrance is about nineteen. There are two classes of 
studios — f/cm<-iifarj' and aiinini-t'd — on one of which the candidate for admission is ox.amined. 
Hut there are further several dilVeront courses, in which, acconling to his preference, he nny 
prosc-nt hiinseir. lie may anticipate the required work of I'reslun.ui \"e.u- ; lie m.iy be admitted 
to advanced st.uuling; he m.\v devote himself to a iu.iNim\iu\ o\ Classical studies ami a n\ini- 
nuim of Scientilic aiul M.ithematical, or '.uy I'crsa. 

This .account of the progress of education cannot W more approprialelv concludoil th.m 
hv the table on the tollowing page, in which is shown the number of IClective courses provided 
In the College tor the year i896-«)7. 

U would be wearisome to narrate in detail the inlroduction oi now courses during the past 
twent\-five years. The table on the following page suggests how wide the range of subjects has 
already become, and how spoci.ali/ation has kept p.ico with the widening circle of knowledge. 
.Among the novelties in the latest I'.lective Tamphlet are courses in Celtic and in Sl.ivic Lan- 
guages. .As a m.attcr of record, it m;>y be added that Ko Kun-Ilua. a Chinese m.ui.l.nln. .>.uo 
instruction in his native language and literature from 1S79 to iSS.;. 



Semitic 14 

Sanskrit and Zend 5 

Greek i-, 

Latin iS 

Classical Philology 12 

English 27 

German 18 

Germanic Philology 7 

French 14 

Itahan 3 

Spanish 3 

Romance Piiilology 5 

Comparative Literature .... 2 

Philosophy 17 

Education and Teaching .... 5 

Economics 14 

History ii^ 

Government 10 

Fine Arts 4 

Arcliitccture 10 

Music 5 

Mathematics 24 

Engineering 39 

Military Science 2 

Physics 9 

Chemistry 13 

Botany 6 

Zoology 8 

Geology 16 

Mineralogy and Petrography ... 3 

Mining and Metallurgy .... i 

American Archeeology 2 

Anatomy, Physiology, etc. ... 5 


Tin-; Harvard Lirrary 

Till'- very centre of the University to-day is the Librar\-, without which neither students nor 
Professors could pursue much of the specialized work which has become a part of the 
higher education. Gore Hall, the first building at Harvard exclusively designed for a library, 
was built in 1841, at a cost of $70,000, from a legacy of Christopher Gore. The collection 
of books then numbered only 41,000. In 1876, however, more room was needed, and a wing 
with improved book-stacks was completed, costing $90,000. Since that date, the usefulness 
of the Library has been enormously augmented. Dr. Justin Winsor, chosen Librarian in 
1877, at once introduced modern methods of arrangement, and pushed forward the card cata- 
logues, begun in i860. The Elective System caused the students to use the Library to a 
degree before unknown. Instructors adopted the practice of reser\-ing the principal works 
in their respective subjects, and these reserved bookshelves were much frequented. In 1876, 
only fifty-seven per cent, of all the College students used the Library; in 1896, the percentage 
of undergraduates was about seventy-seven, and of the remainder many resorted to the Reading- 
Room. B\' 1890 the demand for more space again became urgent. An attempt was made to 
raise enough money by general subscription to build a reading-room in connection with Gore 
Hall. But only $12,000 were contributed. Then it was announced that an anonymous bene- 
factor had promised to provide the desired edifice. Plans were prepared for a building to cost 
half a million dollars; the contracts were drawn up; but a day or two before thc\' were to be 
signed the benefactor suddenly' died, and his executors had no power to carry out his intention. 
Unable to wait longer, the Corporation in 1895, undertook at its own expense to remodel the 


interior of Gore Hall, by introducing a book-stack three stories high, and converting the upper 
part into a spacious reading-room. These alterations, costing over $50,000, will suffice for a 
few years to meet the normal growth. 


In the year 1897, the total number of volumes belonging to the University was 505,000, 
besides nearly as many unbound pamphlets. The annual increase was 17,317 volumes. The 
following table shows in detail the extent of the collections in 1896: 



Gore Hall (College Library) . . . 

Law School 

Lawrence Scientific School .... 

Divinity School 

Medical School 

Museum of Zoology 

Astronomical Observatory .... 
Botanic Garden (Herbarium) . 

Bussey Institution 

Peabody Museum 

Arnold Arboretum 





















The Library ranks third in extent in America, being surpassed by the Library of Congress 
and the Boston I'ublic Library only. In 1895-96, $17,131 was spent on books for Gore Hall. 
The average payment for serials and continued publications has reached $6666. But 
although the number of volumes has more than doubled in twenty years, the income from funds 
for the purchase of books has increased by only $1200. The total expenses of the Library 
last year were $106,032.40, against $46,711.19 for receipts. Of late years laboratory and 
departmental libraries have sprung up, there being now seven of the former antl sexenlcen of 
the latter. Each of these has a permanent collection of books, given to it, or bought by 
special subscriptions. 

This is not the place for describing even a few of the man\- treasures possessed by the 
Library. It has one of the largest collections of maps in the world. It has many valuable 

I.n:RARV KE.\1>ING-R00M PRIOR lo 1 896 

manuscripts. It has such precious autographs as Shelley's " Skylark," Thackeray's " Round- 
about Papers," and Burns's " Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled." It has unique collections 
covering special subjects, such as angling, Nihilism, etc. But its great aim is, properh-, to 
supply the students of the Universit)' with all the tools of knowledge contained in printed 

For many years until 1894, the Library published quarterly a "Bulletin," giving a list of 
recent acquisitions and records of the current meetings of the Corporation and Overseers. It 
now issues at irregular intervals a series of " Bibliographical Contributions." The " University 
Catalogue," formerly edited by an assistant at the Library, has since 1893, been in charge 
of the Publication Agent, an officer who superintends the official printing of the University, 
and the distribution of its pamphlets and announcements. He also prepares the " Calendar," 



issued weekl)' during the College year, and containing lists of meetings, lectures, religious 
services, etc. The "Quinquennial Catalogue" has an editor of its own. From 1700 to 1880 
'this list of alumni appeared triennially; since 1890 the Latin which was formerly used in 
it, has been replaced by English.' 

Besides these publications, various departments of the University publish from time to 
time monographs or transactions of their own. These are: The Harvard Oriental Series, 


vols, i-iii issued; The Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, eight vols, issued; Studies and 
Notes in Philology and Literature (Modern Language Departments), five vols, issued; Har- 
vard Historical Studies, printed from the income of the Henry Warren Torrey Fund, three 
vols, issued ; " Quarterly Journal of Economics," in its twelfth year ; Annals of the Observatory 
of Harvard College, thirty-three vols, issued ; Bulletin of the Museum of Comparative Zoology, 
twenty-nine vols., and Memoirs, twenty-two vols.; Contributions from the Zoological Labo- 
ratory, seventy-one numbers issued ; Peabody Museum of American Archeology, twenty- 
five Annual Reports, fi\-c numbers of Papers, one \-oIume of Memoirs. 

1 The earliest known catalogue of graduates is dated 1674; the ne.\t, 16S2. Down to the Revolution Masters of Arts 
were called " Sirs," and so appear in the early catalogues. The terms Senior and Junior Sof/iiskrs were dropped in 1S50. 



CIIAl'Tl-.R I 

AN iulccniatc account of the life of tlie sliitleiUs at Marvard, from c^encration to t^encration, 
would be \-eiy interesting^, but sufficient material is lackin<^. 1 shall attempt to jircscnt, 
however, as bried}' \x't satisfactorily as possible, the records I ha\e found, and I shall ]ire- 
scnt them chronologically and topicall)', so that the reader who so desires can trace the 
growth of undergraduate conditions, and compare those of one jjcriod with those of another. 
The ilexelopment of the College, as we have seen, has been from a state of subservience to 
civil and religious authorit}' to a state of independence ; a similar process is illustrated in 
the development of student life. Students were originally treated like school-bo\-s ; they 
are now treated like men, hampered as little as is practicable by academic police regulations; 
and one of the most \'aluable lessons they now learn at the University is that of self-dependence, 
whereb)- the}- build up their character and fit themseUxs for their battle with the world. 

lUit the designers of tlie " schoole at Newtowne " had no sucii ideal in view. The}- were 
themsehes members of an austere communit}-, and undertook collecti\ely to admonish, cor- 
rect and punish an\' individual member who might be deemed delinquent; and they imposed 
on their seminar)- a system similar to that b\- which adult lives were guided. If we bear in 
mind Harvard was, f(ir m,ni\- years after its founding, a theological seminary, in which 
the scholars w'ere mere boys, we sliall understand the principles b)- which its discipline w-as 
framed. In the great European Universities of the Middle Age, at Bologna, Padua and 
Paris, the students were often the masters, and the I'"aculty were the servants; but at Harvard 
the relations were reversed ; the I'aculty stood w loco parentis to the imdergraduate, and 
brooked no question of their authoritv. The Faculty provided not only lodging and board 
for the student, but directed his worship and his recreation with the same severity as his 
studies; he was a member of a large family, in which the President or Tutor assumed the 
role of father, and believed, like niost fathers at that time, that the chikl should not be spoiled 
from too s])aring an application of the rod. 

I'irst in importance in an account of student life, excepting, of course, education, which 
has alread)- been sketched, is the history of Commons. And from the \-er\- beginning of 
Harvard College, complaints of bad fare reach us. When I''aton and his wife were examined 
in regard to their conduct at this Seminary (1637-39) the latter confessed that she had pro- 
vided very scantily for the students. Their breakfast, she deposed, " was not so well ordered, 
the flower not so fine as it might, nor so well boiled or stirred." Reef was allowed them, 
but she never gave it, antl she was stingier in her husband's absence than in his presence. 
She denieil them cheese when the_\- sent for it, ami although she liatl it in the house; "for 




which," she said, " I shall humbly beg pardon of them, and own the shame, and confess 
my sin. . . . And for bad fish, that they had it brought to table, I am sorry that there 
was that cause of offence given them. I acknowledge my sin in it. And for their mackerel 
brought to them with their guts in them, and goat's dung in their hastj- pudding, it's utterly 
unknown to me; but I am much ashamed it should be in the family, and not prevented 
b}- myself or servants. . . . And that they made their beds at an\- time, were my straits 
never so great, I am sorry they were e\er jjut to it. For the Moor his lying in Sam Houcrh's 
sheet and pillow-bier, it hath a truth in it ; he did so one time, and it gave Sam Hough 
just cause of offence. . . . And that they eat the Moor's crusts, and the swine and thev 
had share and share alike, and the Moor to have beer, and they denied it, and if they had not 
enough, for my maid to answer, they should not, I am an utter stranger to these things, and know 
not the least footsteps for them so to charge me. . . . And for bread made of heated 
sour meal, although I know of but once that it was so, since I kept house, yet John Wilson 
affirms it was twice ; and I am trul_\- sorr}- that aii)- of it was spent amongst them. For 
beer and bread, that it was denied them by me betwi.xt meals, truly I do not remember 
that ever I did deny it unto them; and John Wilson will affirm, that generally, the bread 
and beer was free for the boarders to go unto. And that money was demanded of them 
for washing the linen, it's true it was propounded to them, but never imposed upon them. 
And for their pudding being giscn the last da\- of the week without butter or suet, and that 
I said it was miln of Manchester in Old England, it's true that I did say so, and am sorry 
the)' had any cause of offence given them by ha\ing it so. ^\nd for their wanting beer 
betwixt brewings, a week or a half a week together, I am sorr\- that it was so at any time, 
and should tremble to have it so, were it in my hands to do so again." ' 

Eaton and his wife were discharged and hea\ily fined, but the students still continued to 
li\e at Commons, where the fare improved. Parents paid for their sons' schooling in pro- 
duce and kind, \\hereb\- the larder was better stored. On the Steward's book we have 
entries of " a barrel of jxirk," " a old cow," " turkey henes," " two wether goatts," " a bush. 
(if parsnapes," " a ferkinge of butter," " a red o.v," " appelles," '• a ferking of soap," " rose 
w atter," " three pecks of peasse," " beaffe," " fouer shotes from the farm," " tobacko," etc. ; 
which were doubtless applied to the use of the students. 

"The Laws, Liberties and Orders of H,ir\ard College" (1642-46), adopted under Presi- 
dent Dunster, state that no scholar shall " be absent from his studies or appointed e.xercises 
above an hour at morning bever, half an hour at afternoon bever, and hour and a half at 
dinner, and so long at supper." The "morning bever" was eaten in the buttery, or in the 
student's ch.unber; the "afternoon be\-er " came at about four o'clock, between dinner and 
supper, which were served in the hall. Dunster also drew up (1650) a series of rules for the 
regulation of the students' diet. The Steward was required to gi\e notice to the President 
when any student was indebted for more than £2 for his board, in order that the \outh might 
be sent to his friends, " if not above a da,\-'s journey distant." The Steward was also forbid- 
den " to take any pa\' that is useless, hazardful or imparting detriment to the college, as 
lean cattle to feed." It was decreed further that " Where.VS young scholars, to the dishonor 
of God, hindrance of their studies and damage of their friends' estate inconsiderately and 
intcmperatel)- are ready to abuse their liberty of sizing [extra food or drink ordered from 
the buttery] besides their commons ; therefore the Steward shall in no case permit any 

1 Hiinard Book, ii, 7S, 79. 


Students whatever, under the degree of Masters of Art, or Fellows, to expend or be provided 
for themselves or an\- townsmen any extraordinary commons, unless by the allowance of 
the I'resident, or two of the l-"ello\\s, whereof their Tutor always to be one. or in case of 
manifest sickness, pre-signified also unto the President, or in case of. a license, of course 
granted b\- the President to some persons whose condition he seeth justly requires it." 

The steward and cook must keep their utensils " clean and sweet and fit for use ; " 
but they were not " bound to keep or cleanse any particular scholar's spoons, cups or such 
like, but at their own discretion. " A scholar who " detained " an\- \ essel belonging to the 
College was fined three pence. No scholars were permitted to go into " the butteries or 
kitchen, save with their parents or guardians, or with some grave and sober strangers; and 
if the\- shall presume to thrust in, they shall have three pence on their heads." At meals 
the scholars must sit orderly in their places, ami none must rise or go out of the Hall 
without permission before thanksgiving be ended. I-"inally, the Butler should receive ten 
shillings on September 13th, and ten more on December 13th, "toward candles for the 
Hall for pra\'er time and sup|)er, which, that it niav not be burdensome, it shall be put 
proportionabl)- upon e\er\' scholar who retaineth his seal in the Huttery." 

In earh- times the position of Steward and Hutler were both filled b)- graduates; 
and some of the students waited on table, for which the)- were ]3aid. William Thomson, 
for instance, of the Class of 1653, received i|uarterl)- one ])ound " for his services in the 
Hall;" Zechariah Brigden (Class of 1657) was gixen for " ringinge the bell and waytinge, 
£1 2S.\" and John H.ile, of the same class, received for "waytinge and his monitor- 
work £2 1 \s." 

Dunster's rules remained in vigor, with occasional modifications, down to 1734. 
Judge Sewall states that in 1674, a student was punished for " speaking blasphemous 
words," by being obliged " to sit alone by himself unco\-ered at meals during the pleas- 
ure of the President and Fellows;" from which we infer that it was then customary 
to have the head co\ered while eating. C)rder was maintained b\' the (presence of the 
Tutors at Commons; and the Corporation, or Overseers, frequently fixed the price which 
the Steward and Butler might charge for their food and liquors. Thus, in October 171 5, 
the latter was prohibited from taking more than two pence a quart for cider until the ist 
of Februarv. 

That students lodged outside of the College buildings seems to have been an early 
practice, necessitated by the lack of sufficient accommodations in the Halls; and that some 
of those who lodged in the Halls boarded outside is evident from the order passed in 1724, 
to compel all such scholars, graduates anil undergraduates to eat at Commons, unless the 
President and a majorit\- of the Tutors granted them lea\e to do otherwise. This rule 
was the source of much trouble, and was long resisted. jV \'isiting committee of the 
Overseers reported in 173J. that this rule ought to be enforced; that students and grad- 
uates should be prexented " from using punch, flip and like intoxicating drinks," and " that 
Commons be of better qualit_\-, have more \ariet\-, clean table-cloths of con\enient length 
and breadth twice a week, and that plates be allowed." 

New laws, consonant with these recommendations, were passed in 1734. .Students, in 
order to " furnish themselves with useful learning," must " keep in their respective chambers, 
and diligently follow their studies, except half an hour at breakfast, at dinner from 12 to 
2, and after evening prayers till nine of the clock." Breakfast, or " morning bever," was 


still served al the Huttei)-, aiul eaten usually in the student's chamber. No resident in 
the College might '■ make use of any distilled spirits or of any such mixed drinks as punch 
or flip in entertaining one another or strangers ; " and no undergraduate might " keep by him 
brandy, rum or an}- other distilled spirituous liquors," or send for them without leave from 
the President or a Tutor. I'he clean linen cloths, of suitable length and breadth, and 
pewter plates were furnished b_\- the College ; but the plates were to be maintained at 
the charge of the scholars. Section 3, Chapter \, of these laws runs as follows: "The 
waiters, when the bell tolls at meal-times, shall receive the plates and victuals at the 
kitchen-hatch, and carr>- the same to the several tables for which they are designed. 
And none shall receixe their commons out of the Hall, e.xcept in case of sickness or 
some weighty occasion. And the Senior Tutor or other Senior scholar in the Hall 
shall crave blessing and return thanks. And all the scholars, while at their meals, shall 
sit in their places and beha\e themselves decently and orderly, and whosoever shall be 
rude or clamorous at such time, or shall go out of the Hall before thanks be returned, 
shall be punished by one of the Tutors not e.xceeding five shillings." 

The Buttery came to be a recognized department of the College, where students 
could purchase pro\isions, beer, cider and other extras, in order that they might have 
no excuse for frequenting the public-houses and taverns in the town. The butler was 
authorized to sell his wares at an ad\ancc of fifty per cent, beyond the current price, 
and from this profit he dcri\ed a part, if not all, of his salary. He and the cook 
were enjoined to keep their utensils clean, to scour the kitchen pewter twice every 
quarter, and the drinking vessels once a week or oftener. Among the other duties of the 
butler, he was required to " wait upon the President at the hours for prayer in the Hall, 
for his orders to ring the bell, and also upon the Professors for their lectures, as usual ; " 
to " ring the bell for Commons according to custom, and at five o'clock in the morning 
and nine at night;" to " proxide candles for the Hall," and to "take care that the Hall 
and the entry adjoining be swept once a da\' and washed at least once a quarter, and that 
the tables and forms be scoured once a week (except in the winter season, when thc\' 
shall be scoured once in three weeks, or so often as the Tutors shall require it)." 

Despite these explicit regulations and the fines mulcted for the infringement of them, 
there were frequent cases of grumbling and disobedience on the part of the students, 
and of neglect or of undue parsimony on the part of the Butler and Steward. Before 
1747. permission to board in private families was generally granted, whereat the Oxer- 
seers were displeased and \oted that it would be " beneficial for the College that the 
members thereof be in Commons." After a struggle lasting more than two years the 
Steward, to whose mismanagement and " scrimping" the students' discontent was attributed, 
was discharged and a new one appointed. That same \-ear (1750) the Corporation \oted 
'■ that the quantit}- of Commons be, as hath been usual, viz. : two sizes of bread in the 
morning; one pound of meat at dinner, with sufficient sauce (vegetables), and half a 
pint of beer ; and at night that a part pie be of the same quantity as usual, and also 
half a pint of beer ; and that the supper be of four parts, though the dinner 
messes be of six." The Overseers persisted in their recommendation that all students 
be compelled to board at Commons; the Corporation, on the contrary, deemed that so 
sweeping a law would be unwise. But the former in 1757, passed a resolution that it 
would contribute to the health of the students, " facilitate their studies and prevent extrav- 


agant expense," if they "were restrained from (lietin<^ in private families;" and as an 
inducement, it was further voted " tiiat tliero should be pudding three limes a week, and 
on those days their meat should be lessened." In 1760, the Corporation prohibited students 
" from dining or suj^ping in an_\- house in town, except on an invitation to dine or sup 
gratis;" but this law could hardly be strictly enforced, because many students had still, 
through lack of accommodations in the Halls, to lodge outside, and some of these probabl}- 
continued to "diet" at private houses. In Jul)- 1764, the Overseers recommended that no 
student should be allowed to breakfast in the town ; that breakfast be thenceforth furnished 
at Commons; that either milk, tea, chocolate or coffee be provided; and that students, if 
they preferred, might prepare tlieir breakfast in their own chamhtrs. but niii^ht not eat it 
in one another's chambers. The completion of HoUis Hall in 1764, enabled most of the 
students to lodge in the College, and the\-, together with all Professors, Tutors and grad- 
uates, were obliged to board at Commons. There was a rebellion in 1766, caused partly 
b_\- the refusal of the College officers to grant excuses for absence from pra\crs, j)artl_\' 
by the poor quality of the food; among other grie\ances the Stewaril had ser\ed bad 
butter for man_\' weeks past. 

Of the fare previous to this time, Dr. ITol_\okc (Class of 1746) said: " ]-5reakfast was two 
sizings of bread and a cue of beer; evening Couimons were a p\'e." Judge Wiiigate (Class of 
1759) wrote: "As to the Commons, there were in the morning none while I was in College. 
At dinner we had, of rather ordinar\- (luality, a sufficicnc}- of meat of some kind, either baked 
or boiled; and at supper we had either a pint of milk and half a biscuit, or a meat p\'c or some 
other kind. [Commons] were rather ortlinary, but I was \-oung and heart}' and could live com- 
fortably upon them. I had some classmates who paid for their Commons and ne\er entered the 
ffall wliile thev belonged to the College. We were allowed at dinner a cue of beer, which was 
half a pint, and a sizing of bread, which I cannot describe to )-ou. It was quite sufficient for 
one dinner.' Before breakfast was regularly served at Commons, there was much disorder 
in getting the morning or the evening " bever " at the buttery-hatch. In the iiu'/ct the bowl 
of milk or chocolate might be upset, and " sometimes tlic sj^ioons were the only tangible evi- 
dence of the meal remaining." 

During the Revolutionar_\- War new difficulties interfered w ith the satisfactorv management 
at Commons. This was one of the grievances adduced bv the students when thev petitioned 
the General Coiut to be moved back from Concord to Cambridge. In August 1777, the Cor- 
poration, in order " that the charge of Commons may be kept as low as possible, Voted, that the 
Steward shall provide at the common charge onl\' bread or biscuit and milk for breakfast; and, 
if any of the scholars choose tea, coffee or chocolate for breakfast, they shall procure these articles 
for themselves, and likewise the sugar and butter to be used with them; and if an\' scholars 
choose to have their milk boiled, or thickened with floor, if it may be had, or with meal, the 
Steward, having seasonable notice, shall jirovide it; and further, as salt fish alone is appointed 
. . . for the dinner on .Saturdays, and as this article is now risen to a very high price, and 
through the scarcity of salt will probably be higher, the Stew-ard shall not be obliged to provide 
salt fish, but shall procure fresh fish as often as he can." In 1783, the Faculty voted that 
in future no students should "size" breakfasts in the kitchen, nor take their dinner from the 
kitchen on Lord's Davs. 

In 1790, a new code of College Laws was published, in which the old prohibition against 
dining or supping with townspeople (except gratis) was reiterated and, among other things. 


students were required to frjve notice to tlic Steward on tlie first Friday of each monlli what thev 
wished for breakfast diu-int;- the niontli. The fine for eating out of Commons was one shilhng, 
raised in 1798, to twenty cents. At Commons the students sat at ten tables, in messes of eight 
on each side. The Tutors and Seniors occupied a platform raised eighteen or twenty inches. 
Down to 1 77 1, the custom prevailed of placing students according to the rank of their families, 
the lists, written in a large German text, being hung up in tiie Hall, and those students who 
belonged to the "first" families had the privilege of helping themselves first at table. The 
waiters were students, were paid for their services, and generally respected by their classmates. 
Boiled meat was served on Monday and Thursday, roast meat on the other days; each person 
had two potatoes, which he must peel for himself. "On 'boiling days' pudding and cabbage 
were added to the bill of fare, and, in their season, greens, either dandelion or the wild pea." 
Cider had taken the place of beer at meals, each student being allowed as much as he wished. 
" It was brought to the table in pewter quart cans, two to each mess. From these cans the 
students drank, passing them from mouth to mouth, as was anciently done with the wassail 
bowl." 1 

Of course, complaints never ceased. At one time the butter was " so bad that a farmer 
would not take it to grease his cart-wheels with." .\t other times, when the Steward had fur- 
nished, for the sake of econoni}-, nothing but \eal or lamb for weeks together, the students 
would assemble outside the buttery and set up a concerted bleating and baaing, as a hint for 
him to vary their diet. In 1790, the Steward became one of the financial officers of the College, 
and his purveyor's duties were transferred to the Butler and Cook.- In order to prevent the 
students from " resorting to the difterent marts of lu.\ur_\-, intemperance and ruin," the Butter)- 
was made " a kind of supplement to the Commons," where the\' could procure, " at a moderate 
ad\ance on the cost, wines, liquors, groceries, stationery, and in general such articles as it was 
proper and necessary for them to have occasionally, and which, for the most part, were not 
included in the Commons fare. The Buttery was also an office where, among other things, 
records were kept of the times when the scholars were present and absent." In 1801, the But- 
tery was abolished, it ha\ing for some time previous " ceased to be of use for most of its primar)' 
purposes. The area before the entry doors . . . had become a sort of students' e.xchange for 
idle gossip, if nothing worse. The rooms were now redeemed from traffic, and devoted to 
places of stud)'. . . . The last person who held the office of Butler was Joseph Ciiickering, 
a graduate of 1799." 

The handing out of supper from the kitchen-hatch was the source of constant disturbances; 
but the Facult)- niaile a long struggle to preserve this ancient custom. At last, howe\'er, after 
repeated failures they desisted, and from the year 1806, supper was served regularly at Com- 
mons in the Hall. A record of the Faculty for August 31, 1797, is worth quoting: "The time 
of the Butler's Freshman being greatl)' taken up with the public duties of his station, and with 
the pri\ate concerns of the Butter)-, and his task being laborious, / 'otcd. That in the future the 
Ihitler's Freshman be excused from cutting bread ui the kitchen, and that it be cut by the 
servants in the kitchen." In 1807, discontent over Commons led to one of the liveliest rebel- 
lions in the history of the College; among other violent acts a student named Pratt at dinner 
did " publicly in the Hall insult the authority of the College b)- hitting one of the officers with 
a potatoc." That same )-ear the Professors, Tutors, the Librarian, graduates and undergraduates 

' Hall's CoUeg:e Words iiml Customs, 1S50, p. 75. 

* In 1S7J the title of Steward, who had long been the Treasurei's agent at Cambridge, was changed to liursar. 


were rcquiictl to t.iki.- all tluir iiK-als at Commons, but the fare seems tiol to lia\e impro\cil. In 
1S19, a rt>\v occiuieil in Commons between the Sophomores anil l-"reshmen, which caused 
many suspensions, and furnislied the theme of the mock-heroic poem. "The Rebclliad." I'our 
years earlier Commons had been removed from Harvard Hall to the just-completed Uni\ersit> 
Hall, where they were held till their abolition in 1849. In 181S, the watjes of the waiters were 
reduced ; each waiter received board gratis for three-quarters of the time ilurint,' w hich he was 
in service. In 1823, the "Master of the Kitchen" was directed to furnish no more cider 
at breakfast or supper; and the next year wine was denied at the Thanks<jiving Dinner. 
In 1825, students who obtained permission mitjht board at a private house; but they might not 
lodge outside of the College unless the Faculty approved. President Quincy purchased in 
England plate to be used at Commons, each article having the College seal : during the Civil 
War this service was sold, being bought chiefly by the alumni, who thus secured mementoes 
of an obsolete phase of Harvard life. After 1842, the College renounced responsibility for Com- 
mons, which was assumed by a contractor, who rented the rooms in Universit\- and pro\ided 
the food. At length, in 1849, Commons were abolished, as they had come to be patronized 
by less than one-si.\th of the whole number of students residing at the Universitj'. " This state 
of things," says President Sparks, in his report for that year, " afforded a clear indication that, 
whatever advantages ma\- ha\ e been deri\ed from this arrangement in former times, it was no 
longer necessarj-. It was resoKed, therefore, ... to leave the students to procure their board 
in such private houses as they might select. . . . The experiment has now been tried for one 
term, and with such success as to make it improbable that the Commons will again be 

It cannot be denied, however, that the system, in theory at least, was a good one, for it 
provided food at moderate rates to a large number of students. The trouble was that, in the 
effort to economize, the quality of the food was poor, and the quantity scanty ; so that while 
poor students might tolerate it for the sake of getting a college education, those who came from 
more prosperous families were inevitabl}- dissatisfied. And with the increase of prosperity 
throughout the country the number of well-to-do students naturall}' exceeded that of the poor. 
For fifteen )'ears, therefore, the students boarded at private houses, either singly or in clubs, 
except that in 1857, the College conducted a restaurant at the old Brattle 1 louse. In 1864, Dr. 
.'\. P. Peabody interested Nathaniel Tha\er in the subject of students' board, which now cost 
more than some of those whose means were small could well afford to i)a\', and Mr. Thayer 
offered $1000 towards the re-organization of Commons. The old railroad station (situated near 
the site of the present Law School) had been bought b\- the College, one of its rooms being 
then occupied by the Rcgiiia Bouaniin, or " Queen of the Goodies," as the head bed-maker was 
nicknamed by the students. The Corporation consenting, this building was properly fitted up, 
and the Tha_\-er Dining Club ate in it, beginning in 1865. The number of students who desired 
to partake of the Club's Commons soon exceeded the capacit)- of the rooms; aiul .Mr. Thaj-er 
contributed $5000 (to which some other subscribers added $2000) to build an addition. The 
management of the Club was left to its members, under the supcr\-ision of a Faculty committee 
of three. Upon the completion of Memorial Hall the Thayer Club was expanded into the 
Dining Association, and in the autumn of 1874, Commons were removed to Memorial Ifall, 
where they have ever since been held. The Association consists of a President, Vice-President 
and of two Directors from each School and each College Class ; the President and Vice-Presi- 
dent arc elected b_\' a general vote, the Directors by a vote of the members of their School or 



Class who bclony to the Association. Xo wiiic, beer or otlier alcoholic drinks, and no tobacco 
may be used in the Hall, Dinner, originally served at 2 1'. M., is now served from 5.30 to 6.30; 
breakfast, from 8 to 9; lunch, from 12.3010 1.30. The price of board is charged on the stu- 
dents' term-bills. The number of boarders at Memorial Hall is now 1120, and as there are usu- 
all)- man_\- more applicants than can be seated these must wait for vacancies to occur. The food 
is unquestionabl)' much better than was ever supplied by the old Commons, and, although 
grumbling is frequently heard, the majority of the students appreciate the advantages they 
enjoy. Thus the difificult problem of feeding the students has been successfully solved ; they 
control the management of Commons, and can therefore pro\ide such fare as the majorit}' 


desire, while the College, as is right, keeps the accounts. In 1889, the Foxcroft Club was 
organized, where students can procure a la carte, plain food at e\en cheaper rates than at Me- 
morial Hall — thirt\--fi\e cents a day being sufficient to satisfy an economical student of small 
appetite. The Club numbers in 1897 over four hundred members, and has alread)- reached the 
utmost limits e)f its capacity. Probably as many more men would be glad to use its prix'ileges, 
if the\- could. 

In conclusion, 1 \\ill set down for purjioses of comjjarison, the \)ucc of food at Commons, 
at din'crent periods. In 1664-65 it was about 75 cents per week; in 1765, :fi,22; in 1805, 
$2.24; in 1806, $1.89; in 1808, $1.75; in 1833, $1.90; in 1836, $2.25; in 1840, highest, $2.25, 
lowest, $1.75 ; in 1848, highest, $2.50, lowest, $2; from 1864 to 1890 the price at Commons 
and Memorial Hall has varied from about $3.75 to $4.25 ; Foxcroft Club (1897), lowest about 
$2.50. The cost of board in pri\ate houses, or at " Club tables," has always been dearer than 
at Commons. A member of the Class of 1846, tells me that in his time excellent fare was 



furnished for tlircc dollars per week, and more llian four dollars was consitlcrcd an cxtra\agant 
price. At the present time private board may be had at from five dollars to eight dollars per 
week. It will be seen tiiat at present Memorial 11. ill and the I'oNcrofi (.'Uib, although o\er- 
crowded, arc able to accommodate onl)' about half of the students who are registered in Cam- 
bridge. The other lialf have to rely on the boarding-houses managed by private persons. 

A word may here be said concerning the common rumor that " Harvard is the rich man's 
college." Like many other rumors, this is not true. Ihe necessary expenses of a student ha\e 
b\' no means kept pace with the advance in the treasures and jirivileges which ever\- 
student of Harvard ma,\- share. The tuition for which the student pa}'s $150 a \-car 
costs the College 
difference rej^re- 
come from endow- 
which the College 
grown. But be- 
help from bene- 
versitj' distributes 
scholarships, fel- 
prizcs and other 
ciary aid about 
fifteen per cent, 
the College are 
Morco\er, the 
earning mone)' is 
at Harvard than at 
ican institution, 
of the Secretary 
one hundred and 
three hundred and 

$450, the $.100 
sen ling the in- 
nients, without 
could ne\er ha\'C 
sides this indirect 
factions, the Tni- 
ever\' year in 
lowshi]3s, loans, 
forms of beneli- 
$So,000. Over 
lit tin- students in 
annually assisted. 
(i])])oit u n it)' Tor 
probabl}' greater 
any other i\mer- 
Ihe Class Report 
of 1S94, shows that 
se\enty out of 
sc\-enty men heaid 

from parti)' supported themseUes b\' remunerative work during their academic course. ( )f 
these three hundred and seventy, sixty-eight spent less than $500 a year; eighty-nine spent from 
$500 to $700; eight)--three from $700 to $1000; eight\--tliree sjjent more than $1000; four 
.spent more than $3000; one spent above $3000. Doubtless, even the more economical students 
live more luxuriousK- now than richer men lived thirty years ago ; doubtless, also, one sees 
an occasional dog-cart or polo ])on\-, and there are several private dormitories fitted out espe- 
cially for the rich : but the poor student ne\er had such excellent opportunities at Har\-ard 
as now, and the proportion of poor or modcratel)- well off students to the afHuent has constantly 


CII.M'ri'.K II 


THP' history of the religious .services in the College, like the history of Commons, deals 
with a vcr)- interesting side of .student life. Enforced attendance at prayers was the 
cause of almost as many rebellions and protests as was scant}- food in the Hall. The writer ou 



tliis subject in " The Harvaid Hook," states thus concisel)' the various places where the rehgious 
exercises at Harvard have been held : " Originally religious services were held by each class 
in their Tutor's room ; afterwards all the students came together in Commons Hall or the 
Librar}-; and later an apartment in the old Harvard Hall was used as a Chapel. In 1744, Hoklen 
Chapel was erected, which was a building of one stor}-. entered b\- the door at the western end, 
the scats of which, with backs, were ranged one above another, from the middle aisle to the side 
walls. Soon after 1766, a room on the lower story of the new Harvard Hall was taken for 
devotional exercises. Here likewise the seats rose one abo\e another, the Freshmen occupy- 
ing those in front, the Sophomores sitting behind them, the Juniors and Seniors coming next; 
while on cither side of the desk, which was at the end nearest the street, were seats for the 

instructors and others." 
in exile at Concord 
were held there in the 
in the meeting-house. 
University Hall, services 
in the upper part of 
when Appleton Chapel 
since served for both 
d a )• w o r s h i p of the 
From the earliest 
attended the First Parish 
This was rebuilt in 1756 
of College Yard, near the 
Law School ) , and an 
twecn the Corporation 
ers, b\' which the front 
students, and a pew on 
and his family ; and the 
to pa\- one-seventh of the 
all future repairs, had 
on Commencements and 
soon found tlrat the stu- 


While the College was 
('775-76), recitations 
court-house, and praj'ers 
On the completion of 
were held in the Chapel 
that building, until 1858, 
was erected, and has 
the week-da}- and Sun- 

time the students had 
Church on Sunda\'s. 
(on the southwest corner 
present site of the old 
agreement was made be- 
and the First Parishion- 
gallerj- was reserved for 
the floor for the President 
College, having agreed 
cost of the building and 
also the right to use it 
public occasions. It was 
dents put so little into the 

contribution box that in 1760, the Corporation \oted "that the bo.\ should not be offered 
(ordinaril)') on the Lord's Da\' to the Scholars' Gallery, but that instead they should be taxed 
towards the support of the ministr}-, in each of their c[uarterl}- bills, nine pence lawful monej'." 
In 1816, the connection between the College and the First Parish Church was severed, and 
the Sundav worship of the students was conducted in the Chapel in L"ni\ersity Hall b\' 
officers of the Di\inity School. The Church was taken down in 1833, when its successor, 
the present F"irst Church, was erected. 

Since the College was originally a seminar}-, founded b}- a clunch-going people for the 
especial purpose of training up }-ouths to become ministers, it is not surprising that the rules 
concerning prayers and worship were strict. In President Dunster's time it was required that, 
" Every Scholar shall be present in his Tutor's chamber at the 7th houre in the morning, imme- 
diateh' after the sound of the Bell, at his o]:)ening the Scripture and pra\-er, so also at the 5th 
houre at night, and then gi\e account of his owne private reading. F\-er}- one shall so exercise 


hinisclfc ill reading the Scripluixs twice a cla_\-, that he shall be iead\- to give such an account 
of his proficiency therein, both in Theoreticall observations of the Language, and Logick, and in 
I'racticall and Spiritual truths, as iiis 'J'utor shall lequire, accunling to his abilit}-; seeing the 
entrance of the word giveth light, it gi\eth understanding to the simple. Pscrliii c.xix, i.'iO." 
"The Laws, Liberties and Orders" adopted at that time ( 1642-46) also state, vj 5 : " In the pub- 
lic church assemblv", tiie\- shall carefully shun all gestures that show an>- contempt or neglect of 
God's ordinances, anil be ready to give an account to their I'utors ol their profiting, anil to use 
the helpe of storing theniseKes with knowledge, as their I'utors shall tlirect them. And all 
Sopiiisters and liaciielors (until theniseKes make common place) shall publicl}' repeat sermons 
in the Hall, whenever they are called forth." And again, jj 14: "If an_\- Scholar, being in 
health, shall be absent from praters or lectures, except in case of urgtiit necessitv, or by lea\e 
of his Tutor, he shall be liable to admonition (or such punishment as the I'resident shall think 
meet), if he otiend abo\e once a week." 

The I'resident himself conducteil the dail\- ser\ices in the Hall. The imdergraduates 
translated in the morning the Old Testament from Hebrew into (ireek, and in the e\-cn- 
ing, the_\- translated the New Testament fiom ICnglish or Latin into (ireek; but I'~reshmen 
were allowed to use the Lnglish Hible. After this reading the President expounded the 
passages read, antl then closed with jiraNer. Once President Rogers's pr.iyer \\;is much 
shorter than usual. " Hea\en Knew the Reason!" wrote Cotton Mather; "the scholars, re- 
turning to their Chambers, found one of them on fire, and the Fire had proceeded so far, 
that if the Devotions had held three Minutes longer, the CoUedge had been irrecoverabl}- laid 
in Ashes, which now was happily preserved." The task of translating was not popular, 
and students shirked it as often as they dareil. In 1723, it is reported that the ;ittendancc b)' 
Tutors and graduates at prayers was good, but not at the readings; but that the undergraduates 
attended both. In 1795, it was ordered that the students during the prayer and at the bless- 
ing should stand facing the desk, but that thc\- should sit during the reading from the 

The morning service was for a long time the occasion when students made a public con- 
fession of misconduct, and when the President announced the names of those who were to 
be punished b>- degradation, admonition or ex])ulsion. Man}- records of these confessions 
are preserved. I quote a few. President Leverett's Diary, wndi^v date of November 4, 1712, 
reads: "A. was publickl)- adnionish'd in the College Hall, and there confessed his Sinful 
Excess, and his enormous profanation of the Holy Name of Almighty God. And he demeaned 
himself so that the Presid'. and I'ellows conceived great hopes that he will not be" 
Again, March 20, 1714, Leverett .says of Larnel, an Indian who had been dismissed: "He 
remained a considerable time at Boston, in a state of penance. He presented his confcs.sion 
to Mr. Pemberton, who thereupon became his intercessor, and in his letter to the President 
expresses himself thus: 'This comes b>- Larnel, who brings a confession as good as Austin's 
(St. Augustine), and I ,un charitably disposed to hope it flows from a like spirit of peni- 
tence.' In the iniblic reading of his confession, the flowing of his passions were extraordinarilv 
timed, and his exjiressions accented, and most peculiarly and emphatically those of the grace 
of God to him ; which indeed did give a peculiar grace to the performance itself and raised, 
I believe, a charity in some, that had ver_\- little I am sure, and ratified wonderfull>- that 
which I had conceived of him. Having made his public confession, he was restored to his 
standing in the College." Tutor Fl\nt writes in his Diaij, Novemb'^-r 4, 1717: "Three 


scholars were publicly .Klincinishctl for thicviiii;' and one degraded below five in his class, 
because he had been before publicly admonished for card-playing. They were ordered by the 
President into the middle of the Hall (while two others, concealers of the theft, were ordered 
to stand up in their places, and spoken to there). The crime they were charged with was 
first declared, and then laid open as against the law of God and the House, and they were 
admonished to consider the nature and tendency of it, with its aggravations; and all, with 
them, were warned to take heed and regulate themselves, so that they might not be in 
danger of so doing for the future; and those who consented to the theft were admonished 
to beware, lest God tear them in pieces according to the text. Thev were then fined, 
and ordered to make restitution two-fold for each theft." President W'adsworth relates 
that the public confession of B., who had been engaged in disorder, was read in the 
Hall, after morning prayer, June 29, 17.27. "But such a disorderly spirit at that time 
prevailed, that there was not one undergraduate in the Hall besides B., and three Fresh- 
men ; there were also the President and the two Senior Tutors, but not one Graduate 
.Master or Bacliclor besides them. When the Scholars, in thus absenting from the Hall, 
refused to hear a confession of, or admonitions against, the aforesaid disorders, it too 
plainly appeared that the\- had more easy and fa\orable thoughts of those disorders them- 
selves than the\" should ha\e had ; the Lord, of his Infinite grace in Christ, work a 
better temper antl spirit in them." As late as May 26, 1786, there is record of a 
l^ublic confession in the Chapel. 

Prayer was held at six in the morning. In 1731, a scliedule of fines for absences, 
tardiness and misbehavior at Chapel was adopted. Rebellions frequenth- broke out, but 
the regulations were enforced. After prayer there were recitations until breakfast, at half- 
past se\-cn — a rule which caused some of the students to take their te.xt-books to Chapel, 
and to stutl}- thcni clandestinely during the serx'ice. In 1773, it appearing that the cus- 
tom was slighted of repeating on the " Lord's Da}- esening " the heads of the sermons 
n the previous day, the Overseers proposed that one of the students should read aloud 
a discourse, which would not only foster piet\-, but also encourage "just and graceful 
elocution." Then declamations were made after e\ening pra\-ers, as appears b_\- an entra- 
in the Diary of J. O. Adams: "March 24, 1786. After pra\-er I declaimed, as it is 
termed ; two students ever\- evening speak from memor\' an\- piece thc\- choose, if it be 
appro\"ed by the President." 

At the beginning of the ,\-ear the first three members of the .Sophomore Class read on 
successive Monda>-s, after evening pra\crs, the so-called " Customs " to the Freshmen, who 
were required to listen with decenc)-. J. O- Adams, in his Diary for March 26, 1786, 
says: "After prayer, Bancroft, one of the Sophomore Class, read the Customs to the 
Freshmen, one of whom (McXeal) stood with his hat on all the time. He, with three 
others, were immediatei\- ho:stcd (as the term is) before a Tutor and punished. Fhere 
was immediately after a class meeting of the F'reshmen, who, it is said, determined they 
would hoist an\- scholar of the other classes, who should be seen with his hat on in 
the Yard, when any of the Government are there." 

From an early period practical jokes were played upon the minister. In 1785, the 
College Bible was missing, and also two Indian images which stood on the gate-posts 
of a Cambridge resident. All these were found by a Tutor in a room of a student, 
who was reading the Bible in loud tones to the images. " What is the meaning of this 



noise?" asked the Tutor anijiil\-. " l'r(i|)n<^atint;; the gospel amont^ the liulians, sir," was 
the stuilciit's cahn replv. In winter the i)u!i)il was hf^lited by candles, and sonulinus mis- 
chievous students boreii holes in these, and tilled them with powder, which, when llic flame 
reached it. put out the lights. At another time, flat pieces of lead inserted in ihe candles, 
produceii the same result. Manv were the assaults made on the Collej,'e bell, in the en- 
deavor to prevent its rin-^iuL; for prayers. ( )nce the monitur wlm marked absences was 
locked in his room, but he found out the cul])rils, and marked them onl)- as absent. 
When ;\sluir Ware, who hesitated in his s])eech, conducted the service, the students used 
to sneeze, makini^ the sound A-n-s/iiir, A-iJ-shiir-toair. " I'uU-crackers " bein^ fastened to 
the liiU of the Hible, the)' exploded when it was oixiied. w hcitiipon I'lesidciil Kirkland 
repro\ed the students so earnestly, that man\- of the students went out sa\in;4, "That's 
rii^ht," "The President's right." Dr. Kirklanil used to be summoned to prayers b}- the 
Re<,fent's I'Veshman. who ranjjf the bell mornins^ antl evenintr. Once, when I-.dward ICx'crett 
was President, the t^ate which led from the enclosure of W adsw orth Mouse was nailed 
up, so that he had to t^o round in older to le.ich the Chapel in I'nixersit)' Hall. He was 
so incensed, that he lectured the students, using as a te.xt Dante's a])peal to i'lorencc, 
"What have )'ou done to me?" ICverctt's lack of humor, which prevented him from 
seeing the disproportion between the auno\aiice he had suffered and llu- tieatnu nl Dante 
recei\ed from the hlorentines. not lost on some of liis hearers. jMan\' efforts were 
made to secure more re\erence at the services, but tlii\' often failed. .Xnd no wonder, 
when we remember that, besiiles the usual ceremony, it was the custom for each Dixinity 
student, who was a beneficiary of the Ho]ikins |-"uiid, to read four theological dissertations, 
each ten minutes long, after evening pra\ers. " In one year the undergraduates were re- 
quired to listen to thirt\'-two such dissertations, atnong which were an ICnglish essay on 
' Kjaculator\- Pra_\x-r,' ami a Latin disquisition on 'The Hebrew Masoretic Points.'" Absences 
were announced in Latin c\er\- Saturil.iy, and excuses were gi\en in Latin. Common ex- 
cuses were, " siiiul (Ci^nyUivi," " bis iiii-nliii," " th'/ciittis nl) aiiiicis,' " lix opfidc." and " /iii- 
liitiiabnlinn iioii tuidivi." One Freshman, charged with three absences, rejilied, " Xoii Ur, 
scci scmcl abfiii : Carolns fratcr locked iiic up in tin- Biitttrr." Once (.\])ril iS, i,S2i) onl}- 
three students appeared at prayers, which were, nevertheless, conducted as usual : the 
rest of the College h;id gone the preceding evening to see Kcan act in Boston, .uui a 
iieav>- snow-storm hail |)re\ented their return. 

President Ouincy was absent from pra\-ers only twice during the si.xteen years of his 
administration, and tluii he was detained in court as a witness. He sat directl}- in front of the 
organ, on the west siile of L'niversity Hall, opposite the minister: and whenever, after the ser- 
vices he had an address to make, he would read it from manuscript. Henry Ware, Sr., then 
conducted morning, and his son evening prayers. In iSj;i, a charge of sectarianism was raised 
against the form of services, but a member of the Corjjoration replied that the "objection is 
not that they iciitaiii sectarianism, but that ihny otiiit .sectarianism." Statistics prepared in 1830, 
sh^w that during the preceding year, absences, excused and unc.xcuscd, of the Senior Class 
averaged only two a week for each individual. Excuses were then granted by the President. 
bui; in 1844, President Ouinc>- required that every minor must " bring a written excuse from his 
parent, guardian or physician. This brings him continually under domestic surveillance, and 
gives the Faculty of the College evidence o( the reality of his excuse of the most unques- 
tionable authenticity." From that time, therefore, we may probably date the first flow of that 


stream of " doctor's certificates " and parental excuses, w liicli flooded " the office " every Mon- 
day morning, until, b)- the abohtion of compuis(jr\- attendance, the need of those documents 
ceased. Disturbances were usually greater at evening than in the morning, perhaps because 
the spirit of mischief was not wholly aroused in those who got out of bed, drew on boots and 
overcoat, and ran to Chapel at six o'clock .\.^r. That was the hour for prayers, except in 
winter, when the)- came at seven o'clock. Xo occasion was lost for shuffling or stamping with 
the feet, until at last the long seats were replaced by settees, so that the monitors could see who 
made the noise. The Bible was stolen in 1831 and in 1852, and again in 1863. In 1852, it was 
sent b_\' express to the Librarian of \'ale College, who had it returned to Harvard. On one of 
the fl\-lea\'cs the following inscription was found : Hoc Biblvin raptvin vi a pvlpitc Harvard 
Coll. Chapclli Facvllati Yali ab Harv. Coll. vndcrgradvatibvs donatvr rcivardviii incriti ct leiii- 
tatis in cxpcllando sophomores XXV fvr ct receptor idem in vcstro librarivucvlo retinete : cove res 
scrvainvs in vsvni cltcssboardi pro Hcltcr Skelter Clvb. 

During President Walker's term (1853-60) e\'ening prayers were discontinued; at the 
morning ser\-ice a choir was introduced, and a " Service Book," prepared b\- Professor W". R. 
Huntington, was used. The experiment of holding pra\-ers after breakfast did not succeed. 
The bell was still the object of many futile attacks; once, indeed, some students succeeded 
in cutting out the tongue, but the Janitor, Mills, beat the strokes with a hammer. Attempts 
to plug the keyholes of the Chapel doors like^vise failed ; the alert watchman always frus- 
trated them in time. Once the seats allotted to the Freshmen nere painted green, mot- 
toes were daubed on the walls, and the building was wantonly defaced; later (in 1870), 
stripes like those on a barber's pole were painted on the columns in the porch of the 
Chapel. When President Hill, in the absence of Dr. A. P. Peabod)-, conducted the exer- 
cises, a lighted bunch of fire-crackers was thrown into the pulpit, but he calml\- put his foot 
on the fuse before the crackers exploded. When the news came of the capture of Rich- 
mond, President Hill announced it after the scr\-ices, and the students went out singing 
"Old Hundred." 

After President Kliot's accession ( 1869) the choir was discontinued, and the whole body of 
students, led b)- the Glee Club, sang, using a book of" Melodies and Hymns," compiled in 1870. 
ICach student was allowed fifty unexcused absences during the x'car ; the number being reduced 
to forty in the case of those who were excused on Monda\^s. Each une.xcused absence counted 
three censure marks ; each tardiness counted eight. The " pra_\-er line " included all students who 
roomed within a third of a mile of the Chapel. When the unexcused " cuts" amounted to ten, 
the student was priv'ately admonished; at twent)- " a public admonition " was given, but no 
longer in public ; after forty cuts, the student was suspended. These punishments were regu- 
lated by the Dean. Parents who objected on religious ground to their sons' attendance at 
Chapel, could have them permanently excused. 

But alread)- public sentiment began to show itself against compulsor_\- attendance at 
religious services. It was argued that a student who, after a hasty toilet, goes to Chapel and 
listens perfunctorih- to the reading of the .Scriptures and to pra\-ers and h>-mns, could not be 
expected to derive much good therefrom ; an empty stomach does not conduce to a devotional 
frame df mind. But the conservatives for a long time opposed an_\- change; it was neces.sary, 
they said, to have some means for getting the students up in the morning, and pra>-ers sub- 
served this end exactl)'. The would-be reformers replied that it was hardly decorous to 
con\ert an avowedly religious ceremon}- into a mere academic roll-call. Then the conserva- 




ti\i;s insisted that to abi)lish coinpiiisury attendance uoukl l)e U> jiistilV those critics of the 
College who were continuallj- charginsj }Iarvard witii irreligion. I'lie reformers retorted that it 
was Pharisaical to pretend that the majority of tlic students attended Chapel in a worshipful 
spirit, and that it would be better honestly to allow each student to choose for himself. Hut 
the conservatives long prevailed. 

From September 1872, to February 1873, mornint,' jjraycrs were discontinued while altera- 
tions were making in Appletmi Chapel. President Pllidt, in his Kejiort for that }ear, said: 
"The Facult)' thus trieil, quite inxoluntaril)', an interesting experiment in College discii)liiie. 
It has been a common opinion that morning prayers were not onl)- right antl helpful in them- 
selves, but also necessary to College discipline, partis' as .1 morning roll-call aiul partl\' as a 
means of enforcing continuous residence. It was therefore interesting to observe that tin- 
omission of morning praxers for nearlv five months, at the time of year when the days 
are shortest and coldest, had no ill ctilccts whatever on College order or discipline. There was 
no increased 
attendance at 

crcises, or un- 
of absences, 
no visible cf- 
other exer- 
College, or 
and order of 
The Profes- 
tcachers liv- 
the sound of 
bell would not 
from an_\- ef- 
u p o n their 
.students that 
crs had been 
In spite of 

irregularity of 

.M'IM.KrON' l_'H,\PF,t. 

morning e.\- 
iisual number 
anil in fact, 
feet upon the 
cises of the 
ui)on the ([uiet 
the place. 
sois and other 
ing be^'ond 
the ])ra_\-er- 
ha\e known 
feet produced 
woik with the 
iiilernii tted." 
this ])ractical 
howe\er, the 
clung to the 

old custom, and vetoed a vote of the Corporation to make attendance at praters voluntary. 
In November 1S74, Sunday morning pra\'ers were abolished, .Smiday e\-ening pra>-ers ha\ing 
been discontinued in 1766. Hut the agitation was not abandoned, and fmall)-. in October 
1886, attendance at daily pra_\-ers and Sunday services ceased to be compulsorx'. Since that 
time the services have been performed In rotation by the Plummer Professor, or by one of 
the fi\-e Preachers to the University appointed annuallx- from among conspicuous clergymen 
of various denominations. The ser\-ices arc short, .and the average attendance of stutlents 
who go of their own accord has been satisfactorv-. I'".\er}- morning during his term the 
Preacher for the time being meets at his office in Wadsworth House any students who wish 
to confer with him. I'xercises, with a sermon, are also held on Sunday evenings in Apple- 
ton Chapel; and during the winter months a " Vesper Ser\'ice " is held e\ery Thursdax' at 
five o'clock, at which the singing is performed in part by the congregation, and in part by a 
choir of boys and by soloists especially engaged. The cost of maintaining these \arious 


religious exercises was $9,956.60 for the year 1895-96. The list of College Preachers already 
contains the names of man}- eminent divines: Phillips Brooks, I'',dward I'lverett Hale, Bishop 
\'incent, L>man Abbott, Washington (iladden, Henry Van Uyke, and Brooke Herford are 
among those who have officiated during the first ten years' of the voluntary system. 

DlSCll'I.INli .\XI) Rekei.i.iuxs 

IN the foregoing pages 1 have given an account of some of the laws b\- which the 
students were Ibrmerh" go\'erned, and of some of the ways in which the ever-fertile 
undergraduate mind evaded or contravened them. I propose now to describe a little 
more fully the various codes of College discipline, and some of the famous instances 
when the students, throwing over all restraint, lived in open rebellion toward their "-overnors. 
One fact is impressed upon us in re\iewing this department of College life: discontent 
and rebellion were vehement just in proportion to the burden of repression. College 
students are men "in the making;" the\- are endowed with a large amount of human 
nature — a truth which P'aculties ha\e often overlooked; the\- can usually be led more 
easil)- than they can be driven ; and as the}- ha\-e been permitted larger liberty, they 
have behaved with greater decorum. 

At the outset. Harvard being a seminary which scholars entered at thirteen and left 
at seventeen, the discipline was stern, of the Puritan type of sternness. The " Laws, 
Liberties and Orders" of 1642 announced that "§ 2. ]-;\ery one shall consider the main 
end of his life and studies to know God and Jesus Christ, which is eternal life; John 
x\i, 13." § 6. "They shall eschew all profanation of God's hol\- name, attributes, words, 
ordinances, and times of worship ; and stud}-, with reverence and love, carefully to retain 
God and his truth in their minds." § 7, " The}^ shall honor as their parents, magis- 
trates, elders, Tutors and aged persons, b\- being silent in their presence (except they 
be called on to answer), not gainsaying; showing all those laudable expressions of 
honor and reverence in their presence that are in use, as bowing before them, standing 
uncovered, or the like." § 8. " They shall be slow to speak, and eschew not onl}- oaths, 
lies, and uncertain rumors, but likewise all idle, foolish, bitter, scoffing, froth}-, wanton 
words, and offensive questions." § 9. " None sh.ill pragmaticall}- intrude or intermeddle 
in other men's affairs." § 11. "None shall, under an}- pretence whatsoexer, frequent the 
compan}' and society of such men as lead an unjust and dissolute life. Neither shall 
an\-, without license of the Ox'erseers of the College, be (T the artiller}- or trainband. 
Nor shall an}', \\'ithout the license of the C)\-erseers of the College, his Tutor's lea\-e, or, 
in his absence, the call of parents and guardians, go out to another town." § 12. " Nt> 
scholar shall bu}-, sell, or exchange an}-thing, to the value of sixpence, without the 
allowance of his parents, guardians, or Tutors; and wliosoe\-er is found to ha\e sold or 
bought any such thing without acquainting their Tutors or parents, shall forfeit tlie 
value of the commodit}-, or the restoring of it, according to the discretion of the Presi- 
dent." ^ 17. "If an}- scholar shall transgress an}' of the laws of God, or the Ptouse, 


out of pcrvcrsencss, or apparcnl negligence, after twice admonition, he shall be liable, if 
not adidliis, to correction; if adiiltiis, his name shall be given up to the Overseers of 
the College that he may be piiblicl)' dealt with after the desert of his fault; but in 
greater otfences such gradual proceeding shall not be exercised." 

A little later (May 6, 1650) the Overseers passed an order prohibiting students, 
without permission, from being " present at or in an\- of the public civil meetings, or con- 
course of people, as courts of justice, elections, fairs, or at military exercise, in the time or 
hours of the College exercise, public or private. Neither shall any scholar exercise himself 
in any militar_\' band, unless of known gravity, and of approved sober and virtuous conver- 
sation, and that with the leave of the President and his Tutor. No scholar shall take 
tobacco, unless permitted b_v the Presiilent, with the consent of their jjiu'ents and guar- 
dians, and on good reason first given bv" a phvsician, and then in a sober and private man- 
ner." On October 21, 1656, the General Court ordered "that the President and Fellows 
of Harvard College, for the time being, or the major part of them, are hercbv empowered, 
according to their best discretion, to punish all misdemeanors of the j'outli in their Socictv, 
either by fine, or whipping in the Hall openly, as the nature of the otilence shall require, 
not exceeding ten shillings or ten stripes for one offence." A record of the Corporation for 
June 10, 1659, after stating that " there are great complaints of the exorbitant practices of 
some students of this College, b_v their abusive words antl actions to the watch of the town," 
declares that the watch, " from time to time, and at all times, shall have full power of in- 
spection into the manner and orders of all persons related to the College, whether within 
or without the precincts of the said College houses and lands." But it is forbidden "that 
an_v of the said w.itchmen should lav violent hands on anv of the students, being found 
within the precincts of the College yards, otherwise than so the}' may secure them until 
thev' mav inform the President or some of the Fellows. Neither sh.iU thev' in an)' case 
break into their chambers or studies without special orders from the I'resident or I'ellows. . . . 
y\lso, in case any student . . . shall be found absent from his lodging after nine o'clock at 
night, he shall be responsible for and to all complaints of disorder of this kind, tliat, by 
testimony of the watch or others, shall appear to be done b\' an\' student . . . and shall be 
adjudged guiltv of the said crime, unless he can purge himself bv sufficient witness." 
Another record of the C\)r])oration (March 27, 1682) declares that " W'/ieiras great com- 
plaints have been made and proved against X., for his abusive carriage, in requiring some 
of the Freshmen to go upon his private errands, ami in striking the said I'rcshmen ; 
and for his scandalous negligence as to those duties that b\' the laws of the College he 
is bound to attend; and h;i\ing persisted obstinate!}' in liis will, notwithstanding means 
used to reclaim him. and also refused to attentl the Corporation, when this da}' required; 
he is therefore sentenced, in the first place, to be deprived of the jiension heretofore 
allowed him, also to be expelled the College, and in case he shall presume, after 
twent}'-four hours are past, to appear within the College walls, that then the l-'ellows of 
the place cause him to ap])ear before the civil authoril}." 

From these records of the seventeenth century we can form some idea of the dis- 
cipline and punishments to which the first two generations of Harvard students were sub- 
jected. B}' the character of a law we infer the nature of the offence which it is intended 
to prevent. Those early students were awed bv- the religious tnenaces which their misde- 
meanors brought down upon them; and when, in sjiite of theological teri'ors, the}' tlis- 


obeyed, they were flogged; finally, if stripes and expulsion failed, they might be handed 
over to the civil authorities. W'e wonder how many students presented a doctor's certi- 
ficate that the use of tobacco, " in a sober and private manner," would benefit their 
health, and how often the town watchman was beaten or harassed. We may be sure that 
the Tutors were restrained by no softness of heart from applying salutary doses of birch 
to delinquents who could not be cured by milder remedies : the Puritan master, like the 
Puritan father, believed that he whipped Satan when he whipped a refractory bo)% and 
he was only too piously glad to smite the arch-enemy who lurked beneath the skin of an 
undergraduate. From Judge Sewall's Diary we get a description of one of these floggings, 
in 1674. The culprit, who had been guilty of "speaking blasphemous words," was sen- 
tenced to be " publicly whipped before all the scholars," to be " suspended from taking 
his ]5achelor's degree," and " to sit alone by himself uncovered at meals during the 
pleasure of the President and Fellows." The sentence was twice read before the officers, 
students and some of the Overseers, m the library: the offender knelt down; the Presi- 
dent prayed; then came the flogging; after ^\•hich the President closed the ceremonies 
with another prayer. In a preceding section I have alluded to another form of punish- 
ment — the public confession of their sins by guilt}' students. 

While all the undergraduates were subjected to this austere correction from above, the lot 
of the I'reshman was peculiarly hard, for he was amenable not only to the College officers, but 
also to the upper classmen. Indeed, down to the present century, he occupied a position simi- 
lar to that of a " fag " at the English public schools. " The Ancient Customs of Harvard 
College" contain the following provisions: " i. No Freshman shall wear his hat in the College 
yard, unless it rains, hails or snows; provided, he be on foot, and have not both hands full. 
2. No Undergraduate shall wear his hat in the College )-ard when any of the Governors are 
there; and no Bachelor when the President is there. 3. Freshmen are to consider all the other 
Classes as their Seniors. 4. No Freshman shall speak to a Senior with his hat on ; or have it 
on in a Senior's chamber, or in his own if a Senior be there. 6. All P'reshmen (except those 
employed by the Immediate Government) shall be obliged to go on any errand (except such 
as shall be judged improper by some one in the Government) for an}' of his Seniors, Graduates 
or Undergraduates, at any time, except in studying hours or after 9 o'clock in the evening. 
7. A Senior Sophister has authority to take a Freshman from a Sophomore, a Middle Bachelor 
from a Junior Sophister, a Master from a Senior Sophister, and an}' Governor of the College 
from a Master. 8. Every Freshman, before he goes for the person who takes him awa}- (unless 
it be one in the Government), shall return and inform the person from whom he is taken. 
9. No Freshman, when sent on an errand, shall make any unnecessary delay, neglect to make 
due return, or go away until dismissed by the person who sent him. 10. No Freshman shall 
be detained by a Senior when not actually employed on some suitable errand. 11. No Fresh- 
man shall be obliged to observe an}' order of a Senior to come to him or go on an}- errand for 
him, unless he be wanted immediatel}'. 12. No Freshman, when sent on an errand, shall tell 
who he is going for, unless he be asked ; nor to tell what he is going for, unless asked by 
a Governor. 13. When any person knocks at a Freshman's door, except in studying time, 
he shall inmiediately open the door without inquiring who is there. 14. No scholar shall call 
up or down, to or from, any chamber in the College, nor (15) pla}' football or an}' other game 
in the Yard, or throw anything across the Yard. 16. The Freshman shall furnish the batts, balls 
and footballs for the use of the students, to be kept at the Buttery. 1 7. Every Freshman shall 

VOL. I. — 12 


pay the Hiitlcr for putting up liis name in the Buttcn-. 18. Strict attention shall be paid by ail 
tlie students to the conunon rules of cleanliness, decency and politeness. The Sophomores 
shall publish these customs to the Freshmen in the Chapel whenever ordered by any in the 
Government; at which time the Freshmen are enjoined to keep their places in their seats, and 
attend with decency to the readin*;." 

In earl\- times disci])linc was super\ised not onl_\- b_\- the IVesidenl ami Tutors, but also b)- 
the Corporation and Overseers. As the College grew in numbers, howe\er, and pelt)- offences 
demanding prompt attention came up frequently, and as the convening of either Board required 
some dela}-, the conduct of the undergraduates fell more and more to the charge of the officers 
of Immediate Government, whose independent records date from September 1725. Just a ccn- 
tur)- later (June 1825) the Immediate Government received the official title of " I'aciill}- of the 
University." That the early students, notwithstanding the se\erity of the regulations which 
hemmed them about, did not submit meekly, we have good reason to suppose, although the 
records that e.\ist are few. We may remember, however, that the imdcrgraduatcs, instigated 
by persons unknown, raised so great a commotion against President Hoar that he deemed 
it prudent to resign (1675). Hints reach us of occasional excesses at the end of the seven- 
teenth century, and during the long struggle of the Mathers to control the College, accusations 
of immorality, ungodliness and disorders were rained upon it by those Draconic moralists and 
their friends. Cotton Mather, whose information concerning the acts and plots of Satan were 
always recent and precise, not only saw " Satan beginning a terrible shake in the churches 
of New England," but that he had taken up his quarters at Harvard College, whence he could 
be dislodged only by the election of Cotton Mather to the Presidency ; which his Diabolical 
Majesty took care to prevent bj- sowing guile and lies against Mr. Mather in the hearts of the 
Governors of that seminary. Discontent thus fomented rose to such a point that the Overseers 
sent a committee to visit the College. It reported that although there was a considerable num- 
ber of virtuous and studious youth, yet there had been a practice of several immoralities — par- 
ticularly stealing, lying, swearing, idleness, picking of locks and too frequent use of strong 
drink. Private lectures, it was alleged, were much neglected ; the scholars, also, too generalU' 
spent too much of the Saturday evenings in one another's chambers, and Freshmen, as well 
as others, were seen in great numbers, going into town on Sabbath mornings to provide break- 
fasts. In 1732, another \isiting committee ]5ronounced the go\crnment of the College to be " in 
a weak and declining state; " and proposed remedies for restoring discipline. By this time flog- 
ging, although not abolished, had begun to be disused, and fines to be imposed, except for 
misdemeanors of the gravest sort. In 1734, the code of Laws was revised. I quote the list 
of punishable offences and the mulcts attached to them as the best and briefest means of illus- 
trating the favorite forms of mischief at this period, and the valuation which the Faculty set 
upon them. The most heinous crime, " Undergraduate tarrying out of town one month without 
leave," was punished by a fine not exceeding £2 los. The other offences, with the penalties 

in shillings and pence attached to them, were as follows: — 

s. d. 

Tardiness at prayers i 

Absence from prayers, tardiness at Professor's public lecture 2 

Tardiness at public worship 3 

-Absence from Professor's public lecture 4 

Absence from chambers, sending for prohibited liquors, going to meeting before bell-ringing, 

going out of College without proper garb 6 


Absence from public worship, neglecting to repeat sermons, sending freshman in studying time 9 

Rudeness at meals, keeping guns, going on skating i 

Undergraduates tarrying out of town without leave, not exceeding />iv- ///£■«/ \ y 

111 behavior at public worship, prayers or public divinity lectures, not declaiming or not giving u] 
a declamation, absence from recitation, bachelors neglecting disputation, lodging strangers 
without leave, entertaining persons of ill character, frequenting taverns, undergraduates 
playing any game for money, selling and exchanging without leave, lying, drunkenness, 
having liquors prohibited under penalty (second offence, 3^.) keeping or fetcliing pro- 
hibited liquors, going upon the top of the College, cutting off the lead, concealing the 
transgression of the 19th Law, tumultuous noises (second offence, 3^".), fighting or hurting 

any person 16 

Respondents neglecting disputations . . . from \s. 6d. to 3 

Profane cursing, firing guns or pistols in College Yard, undergraduates playing cards or going out 

of town without leave 26 

Profanation of the Lord's day, neglecting analysing, neglecting to give evidence 3 

Graduates playing cards, opening doors by picklocks 5 

Butler and cook to keep utensils clean 5 

Undergraduates tarrying out of town one week without leave 10 

The student of penology will observe that in this tariff, transgressions of arbitrary academic 
or theological requirements are punished more severely than misbehavior which indicates real 
moral defects: thus " neglecting analysing" is twice as wicked as lying; absence from recita- 
tion is as blameworthy as drunkenness ; opening doors by picklocks is nearly three times 
as reprehensible as entertaining persons of ill character. But such discrepancies as these are 
common to all codes of conduct based on theology and not on morality^ 

In 1735, the Overseers recommended the Corporation " to restrain unsuitable and un- 
seasonable dancing in the College." Degradation to the bottom of the class, striking 
the name from the College lists, and expulsion were the highest punishments, after fines, 
admonition and public confession failed ; and though flogging was less frequently adminis- 
tered, the Tutors still kept up the old custom of " boxing." The new Laws seem to 
have been eft'ccti\-e, for in 1740, a visiting committee pronounced the condition of Cam- 
bridge to be satisfactory. The Whitcfield revival excited many of the students to a 
stricter observance of their duties, but the improvement was only temporary; still, the 
sweeping accusations brought against Harvard by Whitcfield and Jonathan ICdwards had 
no better inspiration than theological zeal. Charles Chauncy declared that in his experi- 
ence, extending over more than twenty years, the College was never " under better cir- 
cumstances in point of religion, good order and learning than at this day" (1743). But, 
says Ouincy, " the changes which occurred in the morals and manners of New England 
about the middle of the eighteenth century unaxoidabl}- affected the College. ' Profane 
cursing and swearing,' ' habits of frequenting taverns and alehouses,' ' the practice of using 
wine, beer and distilled liquors by undergraduates in their rooms,' greatly increased. 
Tutors were insulted, and combinations to perpetrate unlawful acts were more frequent. 
Laws were made, penalties inflicted, recommendations antl remonstrances repeated, without 
either eradicating those evils or materially diminishing them." ^ In 1755, two students were 
expelled for gross disorders. Discontent \\\X\\ the fare provided at Commons was one 
of the chief perplexities which President Holyoke had to encounter. In 1766, broke out 

' Quincy, ii, 90, 91. 


a rebellion which rayed for a month. Two years later "great disturbances occurred; the 
Tutors' windows were broken with brickbats, their lives endangered, and other out- 
rages committed." The l'"acult\- e.xpelled three of the perpetrators and rusticated others. 
Some of the students, who had withdrawn from the College in order to escape punish- 
ment, petitioned to be reinstated ; the Faculty refused to entertain their petition before 
twelve months should elajise. They then applied to the Overseers, who referred them 
to the Corporation, which, in view of the fact that " man.\- wlio have been great friends 
and benefactors to the society have condescended to intercede in their behalf," recom- 
mended the Faculty to re-admit them, provided the\- should make a public humble con- 
fession. So they came back, thanks to the influence of their intercessors, but against the 
official protest of President Holyoke. 

The patriotic spirit now ran high in the College, but some of the Tory students, to 
show their loyalty to the King, brought "India tea" into Commons and drank it, to the 
incensement of the Whigs. The Facult\-, to prevent trouble, advised the tea-drinkers to 
desist from a practice which "was a source of grief and uneasiness to man)- of the 
students, and as the use of it is disagreeable to the people of the country in general." 
During the Revolution, discipline was unusuall)- la.\, owing either to the spirit of independ- 
ence which showed itself among the sons not less than among the fathers, or to the 
unavoidable excitement and interruptions, or to the weakness of I'residrnt l.angdnn. We 
have already related how, in 1780, the students held a mass-meeting, and passed resolu- 
tions demanding his resignation, and how he complied. 

In 1790, the Laws of the College were revised, and among the new rcciuireiiuiUs the 
students were to submit to an animal public e.\aiiiinalion " in the ])resence of a joint 
committee of the Corporation and Overseers," and other gentlemen. The Seniors and Juniors 
asked for an exemption, but were refused. Accordingh-, some of them, on the morning 
of April \2, 1791, — the da)- appointed for the examination, — put 600 grains of tartar 
emetic in the kitchen boilers. The officers and students came in to breakfast, but \ery 
soon, all but four or five, were forced to rush from the Hall. The conspirators hoped 
to escape detection by drinking more coffee than the rest ; but after awhile they were 
discovered. Three were rusticated, one to Groton for nine months, and one to Amherst 
for five months. A memorandum of yXpril 6, 1792, states that twcnt\-three So])homores 
were fined two shillings apiece for supping at a tavern. I-'ines continued to be exacted 
down to 1825, after which date nearly all were abolished, except in cases where College 
property was injured. But it is evident that this system was never very cftectual in j)re- 
venting mischief, because the penalty was ne\-er paiil b\- the stutlent, but was charged in 
the term-bill for his father to pa\'. 

The condition of Freshmen slowl\- improved, although the Corporation, as late as 1772, 
having been recommended to abolish the custom requiring Freshmen to run on errands 
for upper classmen, voted that, " after deliberate consideration and weighing all circum- 
stances, they are not able to project any plan in the room of this long and ancient 
custom, that will not, in their opinion, be attended with equal, if not greater, inconven- 
iences." During the present century the instinctive antagonism between Freshmen and 
Sophomores found a \ent in rushes between those classes; and fagging was gradually 
replaced by " hazing." The terrors and torments to which the callow Freshman was 
subjected on "Bloody Monday" night, at the beginning of the autumn term, were often 


carried far bejond the bounds of fun and sometimes resulted in tiie bodily injury of 
the victim. The Faculty strove by the most strenuous penalties to put an end to hazing, 
but it only disappeared about fifteen or twenty years ago, through the influence of the 
Elective System, which broke down class barriers, and above all through the increased 
age of the students, who, being no longer boys when they came to College, were no 
longer amused by boyish deviltr\-. Of recent years the custom has grown up of holding 
a reception to new students in Sanders Theatre. Speeches are made by the President 
and other prominent officers and graduates, after which a light supper is served in Memo- 
rial Hall. A body of Sophomores have annually tried to revive the old-time rush with Fresh- 
men, as the latter disperse after this meeting. 

Among the famous "rebellions," I have already mentioned that of 1768, when, says 
Governor Hutchinson, " the scholars met in a body under and about a great tree, to 
which they gave the name of the tree of liberty " which stood midway between Harvard 
and Massachusetts. " Some years after, this tree was either blown or cut down," and 
the name was given to the present Liberty Tree, which stands between Holden Chapel 
and Harvard Hall, and is now hung with flowers for Seniors to scramble for on Class 
Day. The next important rebellion occurred in 1807, when the three lower classes pro- 
tested against the bad food at Commons. Without waiting for the President to investi- 
gate and correct, they indulged in disorders. Two students were publicly admonished 
for "smoking segars," and "occasioning great disturbance" at the evening meal. The 
troubles increased, and with them the alarm of the Faculty. Three Sophomores were 
suspended, whereat Fames, one of their classmates, " did openly and grossly insult the 
members of the Government, by hissing at them, as they passed him, standing with the 
other waiters in the Hall." Fames was accordingly suspended, but three students went 
to the President and guaranteed that the rest would behave properly at Commons, if 
Fames were pardoned. The pardon was granted. A few days later the four classes 
marched out in a body from dinner, complaining of the fare. The Faculty immediately 
voted " that no more Commons be provided till further orders, and that all students have 
leave to diet out at proper houses, till further orders." The Corporation met, and 
ordered the President to attend Commons " on Sunday morning next," adding that " in 
consideration of the youth of the students, and hoping that their rash and illegal con- 
duct is rather owing to want of experience and reflection that to malignity of temper 
or a spirit of defiance, [the Corporation] are disposed to give them an opportunity to 
certify in writing to the President, as he shall direct, their admission of the impropriety 
of their conduct, their regret for it, and their determination to offend no more in this 
manner." Seven days were allowed for this confession to be made, but, although the 
time was extended, some of the students refused, and, on April 15th, seventeen of the 
recalcitrants were dismissed. The so-called " Rebellion Tree," which stands to the east 
of the south entry of Hollis Hall, got its name, if we may credit tradition, from the 
fact that the students used to assemble under it during the troublous episode just 

In 1819, a row at Commons between the Sophomores and Freshmen led to another rebell- 
ion. Three Sophomores were suspended, which caused another outbreak, and the suspen- 
sion of two more. Both classes joined in the revolt. The Facult)-, unable to disperse the 
rebellious gatherings in the Yard, rusticated six Sophomores. The whole Sophomore Class 


llicn withdrew from the Collc5,'c ; but after an absence of a fortnight, they souf^iit re- 
admission, which was granted to all save those who had been nisticateil or suspended. 
This affair was the theme of the bcst-l<nown of college satires — " The Rebelliad ; or, Terrible 
Transactions at the Seat of the Muses," by Augustus I'eirce, of the Class of 1820. 

In April 1823, " a very remarkable uprising among the Seniors took place." A student, X., 
was about to graduate at the head of his class. It was reported that a certain /. had informed 
the President that X. had spent money in dissipation. X. tlcnied the charge, and offered to 
show his account-book. Xevertheless, he was depri\ed of the scholarship he had hitherto 
enjoyed, and was forbidden to deliver his oration at the Spring Exhibition. Z. was one of the 
speakers on that occasion, and was \ehement!\- hissed. X. was held responsible for the dis- 
turbance and dismissed. The Seniors immediately resolved not to attend an\- College exercise 
at which Z. was present; and when he came to the Chapel to declamation, they hustled him 
down-stairs. The I-'aculty expelled four of those concerned in this disorder; but the Seniors 
held a meeting and voted to repeat their \it)lence if Z. came to evening' pra\-ers. lie enteretl 
"after the service had begun, whereupon the class rose up as before and drove him from the 
place, the President loudly calling them to order and refusing to go on with the exercises. 
.After tea the bugle was sounded imder the Rebellion Tree ; and when the students had 
assembled Dr. Popkin addressed them, advising them to disjjerse, ami reminding them of the 
consequences of their not doing so. ' We know it will injure us /;/ n dcgnc^ was the rcpl)-. 
A majority of the class then resolved that they would not return to their work until the four 
expelled members were recalled and Z. was sent awa)' from college ; that they would attend 
prayers the next morning for the last time, and if Z. appeared that tlic\- would ]iut liim out and 
pimish him severely; but if he did not ai)[)ear, that the)- would leave the Chapel themselves. 
Z. did not come, having left Cambridge on the previous evening; and accordingly the class 
rose quietly in a body and marched out of the Chapel, while the President again discontinued 
the services. After breakfast, thirtj'-seven, comprising all who had engaged in or who appro\ed 
of the proceedings, — the so-called 'White List,' in distinction from the others, who were styled 
the 'Black List,' — were dismissed, and thus prevented from graduating at Commencement."' 
Many }-cars later the College ga\e them their degrees. X. was afterwards a member of the 
Examining Committee in Greek; Z., who confessed before his death that his suspicion was 
unfounded, became a clergyman, and was elected to the Massachusetts Legislature. 

The last and most violent of the rebellions was that of 1834. Dunkin, an Englishman, who 
tutored in Greek, requested ]\L, a Freshman, to read certain Greek proper names. ]\L replied 
that he did not care to do so ; the Tutor insisted that he would be obeyed. The ]''reshman 
declared that he was of age, and that he would not be dictated to. The matter was reported to 
President Ouincy, who asked M. to retract; but the latter preferred to break his connection 
with the College. That night Tutor Dunkin's recitation-room, in the northeast corner of Massa- 
chusetts, was broken into, the furniture ami windows were smaslicd. At prawrs the next 
morning there was whistling, groaning, and squeaking of concealed toys. The following morn- 
ing torpedoes were thrown in the air and exploded on the floor of the Chapel. P'inally, the 
President expostulated with the Freshmen who had been engaged in these proceedings, and 
threatened to prosecute them in the civil courts. Whereat the l"reshmen were exasperated, 
and showed their exasperation by renewed rioting. One of tluin, 1!., from South Carolina, was 
dismissed. His classmates petitioned for his recall, because man\- of their mmiber were guiltier 

' Hiuviird Hook, ii, 130, 131. 


than lie. Then the mutiny spread to the Sophomores, all but three of whom absented them- 
selves from prayers on three consecutive occasions. The Faculty dismissed all but those three 
— an unprecedented measure. But the Sophomores appeared at prayers the next morning 
and drowned the President's voice in cries of " Hear him I hear him ! " The service was dis- 
continued, and the unrul)' class was ordered b\' the President to remain ; but out it marched 
from the Chapel. The Freshmen's petition was not granted, and they plunged into new insubor- 
dination, which resulted in the dismissal of two of them and of one Junior. The Juniors resented 
this, voted " to wear crepe on the left arm for three weeks, to publish an article in the news- 
papers and to burn the President in effigy." The Faculty, with the consent of the Corporation, 
now brought legal proceedings against members of the Sophomore Class — one for trespass 
and one for assault on the College watchman. The President (June 4th) published an open 
letter in the newspapers, giving an account of the rebellion. A week later the Seniors, to whom 
the infection had penetrated, drew up a rejoinder, and sent it to the public press. livery Senior 
was thereupon required to confess what he had to do with this document; eight were con- 
cerned with its preparation and circulation, two approved of it, fourteen had no concern in 
it and two were absent. On June 30th there were more tumults, followed by three suspensions. 
On Class Day, July i6th, the Class Poet, Royal Tyler, instead of his poem, read a formal pro- 
hibition from the President against his reading the poem. Then came a burst of groans and 
hisses ; but in the evening the poem was delivered before an enthusiastic audience at a supper 
at Murdock's (afterwards Porter's) Hotel. Thus during more than two months the work of 
the College was interrupted, and many of the Seniors who lost their degrees that year did not 
receive them until several j'ears later. 

In 1805, the office of Proctor was established. The Proctors lived in the College buildings, 
and preserved order, forming the " Parietal Committee," over which the Regent presided. 
The Regent had charge of weekly lists of absences, monitors' bills, petitions for excuses and 
similar duties. Like the President, he had a meritorious Freshman to assist him. From time 
to time the Laws of 1790 were revised, and although in practice more liberty was allowed than 
formerly to the students, the statute-book was still very severe. Thus, in 1848, the following 
were designated as "high offences:" "Keeping an}- gun, pistol, gunpowder, or explosive 
material, or firing or using the same in the city of Cambridge ; being concerned in any bonfires, 
fireworks or unauthorized illuminations ; being an actor or spectator at any theatrical entertain- 
ment in term time ; making or being present at any entertainment within the precincts of the 
University, at which intoxicating liquors of any kind are served ; going to any tavern or victual- 
ling-house in Cambridge, except in the presence of a parent, guardian or Patron." Among 
simple misdemeanors are set down : Keeping a dog, horse, or other animal without leave of the 
Faculty, and playing at cards or dice. The Patron here referred to was " some gentleman of 
Cambridge, not of the P\aculty," appointed by the Corporation to have charge of the expenses 
of students who came from places outside of the Commonwealth, if their parents desired. He 
received a commission of two and a ha\{ per cc/tt. of the amount of the term bill of the students 
whose money was entrusted to him. The last Patron was appointed in 1869. 

Sitting on the steps of the College buildings, calling to or from the windows, lying on the 
ground, collecting in groups — these also were punishable ofienccs not very long ago. Bonfires 
were prohibited; "any students crying fire, sounding an alarm, leaving their rooms, shouting 
or clapping from a window, going to the fire, or being seen at it. going into the College Yard, 
or assembling on account of such bonfire, shall be deemed aiding and abetting such disorder. 


and punished accordingly," says the Laws of 1848. Violations of decorum were (1849) " smok- 
ing in the streets of Cambridge, in the College \'ard, the public rooms or tin. entries, carrying 
a cane into the Chapel, recitation-rooms, library or any public room." " Snowballing, or kick- 
ing football, or playing any game in the College Yard " were added to this list in 1852. No 
student might be absent over-night, and to each class was assigned a Tutor, who granted 
excuses from Chapel (1849). Sitting out of alphabetical order at an_\- Chapel exercise became 
punishable in 1857; cheering — except on Class Day — or "proclaiming the name of an\- 
person whatever in connection with the cheering on that or any other occasion " appeared on 
the list of prohibitions the previous year. 

Hut despite these restrictions we lia\e hearil fn>m persons who were umlergraduates during 
the middle decades of this century, tales that indicate that the students often enjoyed a larger 
freedom than was allowed them by the " College Bible." To serve as " supe " in one of the 
Hoston theatres, when some celebrated actor or singer performed, was not uncommon, but 
doubtless the risk of being foimd out enhanced the enjo}-ment of this antl other unlawful mis- 
chief When a line of horse-cars was opened between Harvard and Howiloin Square (1856) 
it became impossible to prevent the students from making frequent trips to town. Pre\ious 
to that the means of communication had been an omnibus once an hour. So custom, which is 
stronger than laws, gradually established the right of students to \isit Boston when llie\- chose, 
provided they obeyed the rules when within the College precincts. The billiard-room in the 
basement of Parker's was patronized by almost enough collegians to justify Artemus Ward's 
witticism. There were still sporadic cases of hazing which called for severe measures from the 
Facult}'. The silence of the \a\\\ was from time to time startled b_\- an ex])loded bomb or 
lighted by a sudden bonfire in the dead of night. Once a huge turkey was found hanging on 
the College bell when the janitor came to ring for morning prayers; once a pair of monstrous 
boots dangled from the Chapel spire, and once there was a lifc-and-death struggle in the Chapel 
between the watchman and a desperate stuilent. Hut the explosions grew fainter, and the fires, 
except on Commencement night, burnt lower and lower, and the inscriptions in paint or lamp- 
black on the walls of the University were few and far between. Almost the last serious mischief 
— the blowing up of a room in Mollis — took place nearly thirty years ago; and of late years 
the College drain has performed its humble duties imdisturbed b)' gunpowder. And whenever 
any of these last spasms of an expiring era did occur, they no longer met the approval or excited 
the laughter of the majority of the students. Thus in 1890, the students held a mass meeting 
at which thej' condemned the vandal who had daubed the statue of John Harvard with red 
paint two nights before. The reason is plain — such pranks and disorders were the legacies of 
a time when the a\-crage Senior at graduation was not older than the Freshman is now at 

Upon President I-^iiot's accession (1869) the office of Dean was created to relieve the 
President from many disciplinary duties. The Dean performed, in a measure, the functions 
of the former Regent, but besides being the chief police officer, he had also a general super- 
vision of the studies of the undergraduates. Under him the Registrar attended to minor mat- 
ters of discipline, such as the granting of excuses ; but his office was abolished in 1888, its work 
being assigned to the Secretary and his assistant. H\- the revision of 1890, the disciijlinc of 
the College students was placed in charge of the Administrative Board, of fifteen members. 
After the death of Frank Holies, the Secretary, his work with many additions was divided 
among a Recording and a Corresponding Secretary and a Recorder (1894). In 1891, the 


office of Regent was revived, bul with different functions attached to it. He is a University 
officer who exercises a. general supervision over the conduct and welfare of the students* 
directs the Proctors who reside in University or other buildings ; informs himself of the con- 
dition and management of all buildings in which five or more students are lodged, or in 
which students' societies meet; has cognizance of all students' societies and clubs, and 
enforces the responsibility of the officers and members thereof for their proceedings. In the 
same year (1891) a physician was appointed to look after the hygiene of the students. Frank 
Bolles, unceasingly active in behalf of the students, established an " Employment Bureau," 
through which he found work fur students needing nione>- to pa>- their way through College, 
and positions for many of them when they graduated. This worthy system has been kept up 
since his death, and is now in the hands of a special " Appointment Committee " of the Faculty. 
There is also an organization for loaning furniture to poor students. 

Most of the old laws have disappeared from the "College Bible; " public opinion is now 
stronger than the printed rules in setting the standard of conduct. There are still regulations 
against throwing snowballs, playing any game in the }-ard or entries, smoking on the steps or 
in the entries, and loitering in such manner as to obstruct them. Playing on musical instru- 
ments, except at specified hours, is also forbidden ; and it is not lawful to keep dogs in College 
rooms. Discipline is enforced by admonition ; by probation, " which indicates that a student 
is in serious danger of separation from the College; " by suspension — a temporary separation; 
by dismission, which " closes a student's connection with the College, without necessarily pre- 
cluding his return ; " and by expulsion, which " is the highest academic censure, and is a final 
separation from the University." 

Thus have the students attained, little by little, to almost complete liberty of action ; and 
.since the responsibility for their conduct has been thrown on themselves, and not on the Fac- 
ulty, the tone of the College has steadily improved. \\'hen there were many laws, the temp- 
tation to break them was too great to be always resisted ; when Tutors and Proctors were 
looked upon as policemen and detectives, the pleasure of outwitting and harassing them was 
mingled with a sense of superior cunning or with the exultation of successful daring. Persons 
whose experience enables them to compare the present condition of the undergraduates with 
that of fifty or even of thirty years ago, agree that serious delinquencies, such as drunkenness 
and profligacy, arc relatively far less common, now than then. The increase in orderliness can 
be testified to by any one whose acquaintance with Har\-ard life extends no farther back than 
two or three lustres. And it may be added that the immemorial antagonism between the 
Faculty and the students was never milder than at present, when Committees, composed in 
part of undergraduates and in part of members of the Faculty, exist for the mutual interchange 
of wishes and suggestions. In old times, students were treated either as servants or as possible 
culprits ; the newer, and true method is to treat them like men. To emphasize this change, 
the policy has been in cases of recent disturbance of the peace to rely on the punishment 
inflicted b\^ the local judge rather than on academic penalties. In this waj-, the medieval dis- 
tinction between town and gown before the law has almost disappeared : and students can no 
longer expect from a judge immunity for acts which, if committed b}- other citizens, would fall 
within the jurisdiction of the courts. 


ciiaiti:r IV 


Till', first Commencement exercises were held on the second Tuesday of August, 1642, 
" The Governors, Magistrates and the Ministers from all parts, with all sorts of scholars 
and others in great numbers," being present. Nine Bachelors' degrees were conferred that 
year, and four the next. In 1685, we learn from Sewall's Diary, under the date Jul.\- isl, 
that "besides Disputes, there are four Orations, one Latin by Mr. Dudic) , and twti Greek, one 
Hebrew by Xath. Mather, and Mr. President [Increase Mather] after giving the Degrees, made 
an oration in praise of Academical Education of Degrees, Hebrew Tongue. . . . After dinner 
y<^ 3d part of y*^^ 103d PS. was sung in )'^ Hall." Two j-ears later, Governor Andros attended 
Commencement, and b\- his direction, " Mr. Ratcliff sat in y'' pulpit," — an act of gubernatorial 
authorit)- which incensed the sturdy Cahinism of the College, because Ratcliff was the Church 
of England Chaplain to his Excellency. Even thus early, the day had become the occasion 
of festivities not to be missed b\- any one who had the means or could spare the time to attend 
them. And after the academic diet of orations in the learned languages and of copious pra\-er 
had been partaken of, young and old turned with whetted appetite and thirst to the food and 
drink provided by the College and b}' the graduating students. The consumption of punch 
and liquors did not at first alarm the Corporation, but a \'ote of theirs, on June 22, 1693, states 
that " having been informed that the custom taken up in the College, not used in an\- other 
Universities, for the commencers [members of the graduating class] to have plumb-cake is dis- 
honorable to the College, not grateful to wise men, and chargeable to the parents of the com- 
mencers, [the Corporation] do therefore put an end to that custom, and do hereby order that 
no commencer, or other scholar, shall ha\e an}' such cakes in their studies or chambers; and 
that if any scholar shall offend therein, the cakes shall be taken from him, and he shall more- 
over pay to the College 20 shillings for each such offence." 

What was peculiar!)- harmful in " plumb-cake," we are not told; but frequent laws were 
fulminated against it. In 1722, an ordinance was passed " foi reforming the Extravagancys of 
Commencements," and providing " that no preparation nor proxision of either Plumb Cake, of 
Roasted, Boj'led or Baked Meates or Pyes of any kind shal be made by any Commencer." 
" Distilled Lyquours " or " any composition therewith " were also forbidden under a fine of 
twent\' shillings, and the contraband articles were " to be seized b\- the Tutors," — but whether 
or not the latter were allowed to eat and drink the confiscated food and drink, we do not know. 
That the Tutors, however, believed with lago that " Good wine is a good familiar creature, if 
it be well used," is plain from the following entr}- in Mr. Fh'nt's Diary, on the eve of Com- 
mencement, 1724: "Had of Mr. Monis two corkscrews 4(/. a piece." ]\Ionis was a converted 
Jew, who taught Hebrew in the College for nearly forty years, and kept a small shop in what 
is now Winthrop Square. But the plumb-cake stuck in the throats of the Corporation, who, in 
1727, V'Oted that " if an\^ who now doe, or hereafter shall, stand for their degrees, presume to do 
anything contrary to the Act of i ith June, 1722, or go about to evade it b\- plain cake, they 
shall not be admitted to their degree, and if an\-, after they ha\e received their degree, shall 
presume to make any forbidden provisions, their names shall be left or rased out of the 
Catalogue of the Graduates." 


In 1725, the inauguration of President Wadsworth fell upon Commencement day. There 
was, as had been usual on such occasions, says Ouincy, a procession " from the College to the 
meeting-house. The Bachelors of Art walked first, two in a rank, and then the Masters, all 
bareheaded; then followed Mr. Wadsworth alone as President; next the Corporation and 
Tutors, two in a rank ; the Honorable Lieutenant-Governor Dummer and Council, and next 
to them the rest of the gentlemen. After prayer by the Rev. Mr. Colman, the Governor, on 
delivering the keys, seal and records of the College to the President-elect as badges of author- 
ity, addressed him in English investing him with the government thereof, to which the Presi- 
dent made a reph", also in English, after which he went up into the pulpit and pronounced 
numoriter a Latin oration ; and afterwards presided during the usual exercises." The earlier 
Commencements had been held in the College Hall, but from this time on they were held in 
the first meeting-house; afterwards, from 1758 to 1833, in the old First Parish Church; then 
in the present First Parish Church (1834-72); then in Appleton Chapel (1873-75); and in 
Sanders Theatre since 1875. 

As the Province grew during the eighteenth century. Commencement became more and more 
of a popular celebration; and, although the means of communication were few and roundabout, 
it was flocked to by graduates and sight-seers from all parts of ^lassachusetts. Ladies in high 
coiffures and bell-shaped hoops drove out from Boston in their coaches. Ministers, magistrates 
and merchants came on horseback or in wagons. On no other occasion could you then have 
seen so large an assemblage of the wealth, learning and dignity of the Province. There was the 
Goxernor, with his Council and military escort and members of the General Court to represent 
the State ; there were the most edifying Professors and clergymen, who could preach or pray by 
the hour in one living and three dead languages, to represent the Church ; there were the 
friends and families of the students to represent the best society of the Province. The towns- 
people of Cambridge were all there ; and a nondescript crowd of the idle or the curious. The 
e.Kercises in the Chapel were sober enough, propped as they were bytheolog}'; but in the 
afternoon and evening punch and flip rose into the heads which had been filled with Greek and 
Hebrew in the morning, and there were disgraceful scenes. 

The Corporation, awakening to the scandal, voted, in 1727, that "Commencements for time 
to come be more private than has been usual ; and, in order to this, that the time for them be 
not fixed to the first Wednesday in July, as formerl>-, but that the particular day should be de- 
termined upon from time to time by the Corporation, and that the Honorable and Reverend 
Hoard of Overseers be seasonabl}^ acquainted of the said da\', and be desired to honor the 
solemnity with their presence." The next year the Governor directed the Sheriff of Middlesex 
to prohibit the setting up of booths and tents on the land adjoining the College ; and in 1733, the 
Corporation and three Justices of the Peace in Cambridge concerted measures for keeping 
order, by establishing " a constable with six men, who, by watching and walking towards even- 
ing on these days, and also the night following, and in and about the entry to the College Hall 
at dinner-time, should prevent disorders." Friday was fixed upon for the Commencement 
exercises, but so great was the outcr\- — both against the day (which came too near Sunday) 
and against the attempt at privacy — that in 1736, Wednesday and publicity were returned to. 
In 1749, two gentlemen whose sons were about to be graduated oftered the College ;^IOOO if" a 
trial was made of Commencement this year in a more private manner." The Corporation, mind- 
ful of the lack of funds, were for acquiescing, but the Overseers would consent to no breach in the 
old custom. The Corporation, therefore, had to content themselves by recommending to 



parents that, " considering tlu- awful jiidtjnients of God upon tliis l.uul, llie>- retrench Com- 
mencement expenses, so as may best correspond with the frowne of Di\ine Pro\idence, and 
that they take effectual care to have their sons' chambers cleared of company, and their enter- 
tainments finished on the evening of said Commencement day, or, at furthest, by next morning." 
In 1759, it was voted that " it shall be no offence if any scholar shall, at Commencement, make 
and entertain guests at his chamber with [juncli ; " in June 1761, it was deemed no oflencc for 
scholars in a sober manner, to " entertain one another and strangers with punch, which, as it is 
now usually made, is no intoxicating liquor." In 1760 all unnecessary expenses, and dancing 
in the Hall or other College building during Commencement week, were forbidden. Once 
(in 1768) the date was changed because a great eclipse of the sun occurred. In 1764, on 
account of small-pox, and from 1775 to 1781, on account of the war, Commencements were 
omitted. In 1738, the questions maintained by three candidates for the Master's degree 
sounded Arian in the ears of the Orthodo.x, and in 1760, it was the President's duty to assure 
himself that all the parts to be deli\ercd were orthodo.x and seemly, and he was enjoined " to 
put an end to the practice of addressing the female sex." The post-Revolutionary celebra- 
tions soon surpassed any that had gone before, both in the number of the attendants and in the 
merrymaking. The art of brewing intoxicating punch was rediscovered. The banks ami 
Custom-House in Boston were closed on this ila}- ; the new bridge shortened the journey to 
Cambridge. Few, even among the rich, then had summer places along the shore or in the 
country, so that, although the Harvard holiday came at the end of August, " all the Elites " — 
to use an expression of Dr. John Pierce — were present. Prohibitions against extravagance in 
dress on the part of the commencers seem to ha\e been little heeded, for " in 1790, a gentleman 
[Josiah Quincy] afterwards prominently connected with the College, took his degree dressed in 
coat and breeches of pearl-colored satin, white silk waistcoat and stocking, buckles in his shoes, 
and his hair elaborately dressed and powdered according to the style of the da}-." 

Until about 1760 the exercises, consisting of " theses and disputations on \arious logical, 
grammatical, ethical, physical and metaph\'sical topics," were conducted in Latin. In 1763, the 
first oration in English was delivered, and little by little that language predominated. Com- 
mencers were entitled to parts according to their rank, the lowest part being a Conference; then 
followed Essays, Colloquies, Discussions, Disquisitions, Dissertations, and, highest of all, but the 
last on the programme. Orations — the salutatory in Latin, and two in Phiglish. 

From the Diary of the Rev. John Pierce,' who attended every Commencement from 1784 
to 1848 (except that of 1791, when he was absent at his mother's funeral), we get valuable 
information concerning the Commencements of the first half of this century ; and I can do no 
better than to make a few extracts which show the character of the observances from year to 
year, and the changes that crept in. Dr. Pierce gives the list of all the speakers, with comments 
on their effusions and many other details, so that I limit myself to quoting what is most impor- 
tant, or amusing: 1803 — "The sentiments of Farrar in an h'.nglish dissertation were well 
adapted to oppose the rage for novel-reading and plays which is so prevalent, especially in the 
capital." "At dinner the greatest decorum prevailed." 1806 — "The theatrical musick with 
which the exercises was interspersed was highly disgusting to the more solid part of the 
audience." 1809 — "Instead of dining in the hall as usual, I went with my wife to the 
provided b_\- Mr. Parkman, where, it was computed, there were 500 persons who dined in one 
large tent in the fields. The expense must ha\-e been at least $lOOO." 1810 — Exercises four 

^ Proceedings of the Mass. Historical Soc.,V>ix., i88g, Jan., 1S90. 


hours long. iSii — "The new President [Kirkland] acquitted himself with great dignit>' and 
propriet}-. His pra}-ers.were short, liut for style and matter they exceeded all we have been 
accustomed to hear on such occasions." 18 12 — "I dined in the hall. The students did not 
wait as formerly." 1813 — An Oration in French was given. 1814 — Exercises lasted five 
hours. Dinner in the new Hall [University] for the first time. 1815 — "Fuller excited loud 
applauses from the notice he took of the deposed imperial despot of France." " The most 
splendid dinner I ever witnessed on a similar occasion," prepared by Samuel Eliot, Esq. 
1818 — Oration in Spanish. "There was less disorder, as there were fewer tents on the 
Common." 18 19 — "The oldest graduate and clergyman" present " was the Rev. Dr. Marsh, 
of Weatherfield, Con. (1761). He probably wore the last full-bottomed wig which has been 
seen at Commencement." 1820 — " The Master's oration, by [Caleb] Cushing, was sensible and 
delivered ore rotiindo." 1821 — " The President was 2}i minutes in his first prayer and 2 in his 
last." " For the first time since the University was founded no theses were published, no theses 
collector having been appointed." 1824, August 25 — "We were detained from entering the 
meeting-house from X to XI. 40, by the tardiness of the Governour. At length the cavalcade 
arrived at University Hall with General La Fayette, who was cordially welcomed by President 
Kirkland in a neat and peculiarl\- appropriate address, delivered in the portico, in the hearing 
of a large and mi.xed multitude. A procession was then formed, which proceeded to the meet- 
ing-house amid continual shouts of assembled throngs. As soon as order was restored, the 
President made a prayer of 3 minutes. . . A large portion of the speakers made personal 
allusions to our distinguished guest. In e\ery instance such allusions were followed by loud 
shouts, huzzas and the clapping of hands. At nearly V we left the meeting-house for the hall, 
where I dined in company of La Fayette and suite." 1826 — " Of Southworth, who defended 
physical education, it was reported that he was the strongest person in College, having lifted 820 
lbs." 1827 — Emerson's [Edward B.] oration lasted },6 minutes. 1828 — "For the first time 
for many years, no tents were allowed on the Common." 1829 — At dinner " I set the tune, St. 
Martin's, the 17th time, to the LXXVTII Psalm. Tho I set it without an instrument, yet it was 
exactly in tune with the instruments which assisted us. I asked the President how much of the 
psalm we should sing? Judge Story replied, Sing it all. We accordingly, contrary to custom, 
sang it through, without omitting a single stanza. It was remarked that the singing was never 
better. But as the company are in 4 different rooms, it will be desirable on future occasions to 
station a person in each room to receive and communicate the time, so that we may sing all 
together, or keep time, as musicians express it." 1830 — " A pra\-er b\- Dr. Ware, of 4 minutes, 
in which, as Dr. Codman remarked, there was no allusion to the Saviour or his religion." None 
of the parts "were contemptible: and none electrified the audience, as is sometimes the case." 
1831 — The psalm "was pitched a little too high." 1833 — "The concluding oration of the 
Bachelors by [Francis] Bowen, was a sober, chaste performance. The manner of his bidding 
adieu to the old meeting-house, as this was to be the last Commencement observed in it, was 
particularly touching." 1834 — Exercises in the new church, which "is so much larger and 
more convenient than was the former that all who desired were accommodated." 1835 — " ^J' 
my suggestion, as thanks are commonly returned after dinner, when there is great hilarity, and 
it is difficult to restore order, the usual psalm, LXXX'III.was substituted." 1836 — " Be it noted 
that this is the first Commencement I ever attended in Cambridge in which I saw not a single 
person drunk in the hall or out of it. There were the fewest present I ever remember, doubt- 
less on account of the bis-centennial celebration to be observed next week." 1837 — " A dis- 


scrtalion by R. II. Dana was on ihc unique topic, Heaven lies abmil us in our Infanc)-. lie is a 
handsome youth and spoke well. Hut his composition is of that Swedenbori^ian, Coleridj^ian 
and dreamy cast whicli it recjuires a peculiar structure of mind to understand, much more to 
reiisii. . . . The speakers were mostlj' heard. None had a prompter. For the first time they 
carried their parts rolled up in their left hands. Two or three onl>' were obliged to unrol them 
to refresh their memories. The concludin<^ oration, for the first time within my memor}-, con- 
tainctl not onl_\- no names, but even no mention of benefactors. . . . \\ ine was funiisheil at 
dinner as well as cider. As honey or molasses attracts flies and other insects, so these incbriat- 
intj liquors allure graduates addicted to such drinks, particular!)- the intemperate, to come and 
drink their fill." 1838 — "Notwithstanding the efforts of the friends of temperance, wine was 
furnished at dinner. There was nevertheless pretty good order in the hall. . . . There was a 
meeting in the Chapel after dinner, and it was resolved, though with some opposition, to have 
an annual meeting of alumni." 1840 — "No man was allowed to wait upon ladies into the 
meeting-house for fear he should remain." 1841 — The Governor and suite arrived in good 
season, escorted by an elegant companj- of Lancers. 1842 — First year in which the folk>wing 
notice was published in the order of exercises : " A part at Commencement is assigned to e\ery 
Senior, who, for general scholarship, is placed in the first half of his class, or who has attained a 
certain rank in any department of stud\'." " I saw much wine-drinking. When will this ' abomi- 
nation of desolation ' be banished from the halls of Old Harvard? To add to the annojance of 
many attendants, cigars were smoked without mere}.' 1843. — "The dinner was very soon 
despatched. Indeed, the Bishops [Doane and Kastburn] and others compared it to a steam- 
boat dinner, on account of the haste in which it was eaten. . . . Wine in abundance was fur- 
nished ; and though but comparativelj- few partook of it while the company were together, \et 
afterwards there was a gathering of wine-bibbers and tobacco-smokers who filled their skins 
with vinous potations, the hall with a nauseous effluvia, and the air with bacchanalian songs 
and shouts." Mrs. Ouincy, as usual, held a levee at the President's (Wadsworth) House, in 
the garden of which a brass band " discoursed sweet music." 1844. — Thirt_\- parts assigned; 
twenty-two performed. "This was the first Commencement, probably, ... in which no exer- 
cises were assigned to candidates for the Master's degree." 1845. — " \'otaries of Bacchus" 
less noisy than usual. At Professor Beck's large and sumptuous entertainment wine was 
" administered by black servants." 1846. — The dinner was served with onlv wine and lemonade, 
for the first time, it is believed. 1847. — Levee at President Fverett's. "The band of music 
in attendance played at my solicitation Tivoli, Marseillais Hymn and Auld Lang Syne." No 
speeches after dinner, for w^nt of time. 1848. — Twenty-six parts delivered ;" all spoke 
sufficiently loud." " I prefaced my setting the psalm with the remark that as time had not >et 
beaten me, I should beat time once more, as this practice enables a large company the better to 
keep time." Between 1784 and 1848 there were but six rainy Commencements, viz. : 1796, 
1798, 1835, 1837, 1845, 1846. 

Dr. Pierce's long record ceased just at the time when the character of Commencement 
was permanently changed. After the middle of this century Class Day drew off the ladies 
from Commencement, which became more the day of the graduates in which e\'en the 
Seniors counted for little. Until 1869 the celebration was usually held on the third 
Wednesday of Jul_\-; since 1870 it has been held on the last Wednesda}- in June. 

Customs change so fast, that it will not be out of place to describe briefly a 
very recent Commencement (1896). At ten o'clock in the morning the Lancers, in their 


red uniforms, come riding through Harvard Square to the sound of bugles. They draw up 
in front of the Johnston Gate, and salute the Governor of Massachusetts, who has driven 
from Boston in a barouche with four horses, as he dismounts and enters the Yard. His 
Adjutant-General and members of his Staff and the Sheriffs of Middlesex and of Suffolk 
accompany him. At the door of Massachusetts Hall, where a crowd of graduates has 
already collected, he is received by the President of the University. Meanwhile, members 
of the graduating classes of the College and Professional Schools have formed in line, two 
abreast, in front of Holworthy, Hollis and Stoughton. At the appointed time, the band 
strikes up a march, the students, in their mortar-boards and gowns, file past Massachusetts, 
and when their last couple have passed, the President and the Governor, the Corporation 
and Overseers, distinguished guests and the alumni in order of seniority, join the column, 
which crosses the Yard to the Meyer Gate, and thence proceeds to Sanders Theatre. There, 
the graduating scholars take seats in the orchestra and first balcony, the rest of the seats 
being occupied by their families and friends. At the same time the dignitaries and guests 
are assigned places on the stage. In the centre, under the musicians' balconj', the Presi- 
dent occupies the ancient chair, made, according to tradition, by President Holyoke. Behind 
him, inside the rail, are ranged the Six Fellows. To his right, in curving rows, arc the 
Overseers, the guests, the alumni up to the very wall. The last seat on the first row, 
nearest the audience, is assigned to the Governor. The left of the stage is reserved for 
members of the various Faculties, whose Deans occupy the seats in the first row nearest 
the President. Many of them wear doctors' hoods of various colors. 

The exercises begin with a brief prayer. Then four or fiv'e parts are delivered by 
graduating students representing the Academic Department and the Professional Schools. 
The appetite for scholastic orator}- was long ago satiated ; so that the speakers now 
consume onl\- about an hour and a half; earlier in the centurv' twent\- or twenty-five 
men delivered their parts, and the more indulgent audiences of that period listened to 
them for four or five hours. At the conclusion of the orations the Master of Ceremonies 
— the first, Professor M. H. Morgan, was appointed in 1896 — summons candidates for 
the Bachelor's degree to the stage, and as soon as the\- have come, the Dean of the 
Faculty of Arts and Sciences rises and presents them to the President, who formalK" 
pronounces them Bachelors of Arts, entitled to all the privileges pertaining to that 
degree. He then hands them bundles of diplomas which they distribute among their 
classmates when the\- have returned to their seats. The ]\Iaster of Ceremonies then calls 
up in turn the candidates for other degrees, who are presented to the President by their 
respective Deans, and receive their diplomas in similar fashion. The President, in con- 
ferring the degrees on each group, uses the phrase " b_v and with the consent of the 
Overseers," and pauses a moment for a nod of assent from the President of the Over- 
seers, sitting in the front row on the right. 

The exercises conclude with the bestowal of honorarv degrees on persons whom 
the Corporation and Overseers have chosen for this special distinction. Each recipient 
rises and bows, while the President announces his name and adds in terse phrase the 
reasons for conferring this honor. When the recipient has a wide reputation, or is pecu- 
liarly popular in academic circles, the burst of applause which greets him is long and 
hearty. Such, for instance, in recent years was the welcome given to John Fiskc, Joseph 
Jeft'crson and General Miles. After a benediction, the ceremonv- ends. 



Mcanwliilc, from eleven o'clock on the College \'ard begins to swarm with graduates, 
who come to attend class meetings and to renew old associations. Nearly fifty classes hold 
reunions in as many rooms o\erlooking the \'ard. A lunch is provided by each, and iiiilil 
1894 each had plentiful supplies of claret or rum punch. In that year the Corporation, in 
order to prevent any possible excess, passed a rule forbidding the use of an\- lii|uors — 
except champagne or beer and ale — in College rooms on CommcnccmciU ; ami as few tif 
the classes care to provide champagne, the tipples are verj- light. h'rom ten till four 
o'clock polls are open in Massachusetts Hall, where Bachelors of Arts of fi\e years' stand- 
ing and certain other qualified electors vote for candidates for Overseers, the voting being 
conducted by the Australian system. Ai one o'clock, the Association of the alumni meets 
in an upj^er room in Harxartl Hall, .uid transacts business which rarely consists of mure 
than the perfunctorj- election oi officers and committees for the ensuing \'ear, and the hearing 
of reports. 

Shortl}' before two o'clock the band sounds " Assembl}- " at the entrance to Massa- 
chusetts. The Chief Marshal of the Da)-, who is alwa}s a member of the class which 
graduated twenty-five years before, forms the procession, calling the classes in order of 
seniority. The President of the College and the President of the Alumni lead, and are 
followed by the Governing Boards and guests, after whom come the alunmi. In this 
order, the column marches past Matthews, Grab's, Weld, L'ni\crsit\' and Thayer to Memorial 
Hall, where the officers and guests take their places at a long table on a raised i)latform 
on the north side of the Hall, and the alumni fill all the other space. After the frugal 
repast is finished, cigars are lighted, and the presiding oflicer begins the speech-making. 
He is followed by the President of the Uni\crsity, the Go\ernor of the Commonwealth, and half 
a dozen others, including usualh- a represcntati\e of the Class which is celebrating its 
fiftieth Commencement. A bod_\- of old Glee Club men sing two or three well-known 
songs, and the entire compan}- join in singing the Seventy-eighth Psalm and " Fair 
Harvard." Just before the exercises close, a messenger usually comes from Massachusetts 
Hall with the names of the newly-elected Overseers. B\' half-past five, the gathering has 


Cl.vs.s Day 

CLASS Day seems to have originated in the custom of the Seniors choosing one of 
their members to bid farewell to the College and Faculty in a valedictory address. 
In 1760, we learn that each man brought a bottle of wine to the meeting, and that 
then, and also on the day of the celebration itself, there was disorder. The list of Class Day 
Orators begins in 1776; that of the Poets in 1786. The earliest ceremonies, to quote 
James Russell Lowell, " seem to have been restricted to an oration in Latin, sandwiched 
between two prayers by the President, like a criminal between two peace-ofificers." The 
2 1st of June was the da\- appointed for Class Da\-, when the Seniors completed their 
studies; then followed a vacation, after which they came back in August to take their 
degrees at Commencement. Gradually, the Class Orators adopted English instead of Latin, 


an innovation which led the Faculty to vote, in 1803, that, whereas "the introduction of 
an Knglish exercise, which gives it more the appearance of a public Exhibition designed 
to display the talents of the Performers and entertain a mixed audience than of a merely 
valedictory address of the Class to the Government, and taking leave of the Society and 
of one another, in which Adieu Gentlemen and Ladies from abroad are not particularly 
interested ; And whereas the propriety of having but one Person to be the Organ of 
the Class ... on this occasion must be obvious, and as at the same time it is more 
Academical that the valedictory performance be in Latin than in English, as is the 
practice in Unixcrsities of the most established reputation abroad, and was formerly our 
own ; Voted, that the particular kind of Exercise in the Senior Class at the time of 
their taking lea\e of the College, Sanctioned by the usage of a Century and a half, be 
alone adhered to, and consequently that in future no performance but a Valedictory Ora- 
tion in the Latin language, except music adapted to the occasion, be permitted in the 
Chapel on the day when the Seniors retire from the Society." 

A description of a Class Day a little earlier than this (1793) is given in Robert 
Treat Paine's Diary: "At ten the class walked in procession to the President's, and es- 
corted him, the Professors and Tutors to the Chapel,- preceded by the band playing 
solemn music. The President began with a short prayer. He then read a chapter in 
the Bible ; after this he prayed again ; Cutler then delivered his poem. Then the sing- 
ing club, accompanied b)' the band, performed Williams' Friendship. This was succeeded 
by a valedictory Latin Oration by Jackson. We then formed and waited on the Govern- 
ment to the President's, where we were very respectably entertained with wine, etc. We 
then marched in procession to Jackson's room, where we drank punch. At one we went to 
Mr. Moore's ta\^ern and partook of an elegant entertainment, which cost 6s. A,d. a piece. 
Marching then to Cutler's room, we shook hands and parted with expressing the sincerest 
tokens of friendship." 

The Faculty were unable to enforce their restriction as to Latin, although for sev- 
eral years (i 803-8) no Poets or Orators are recorded; then the performances went on 
pretty regularly in English, and were concluded by a dance (of the Seniors only) round 
the Rebellion Tree. By 1834, the Seniors had begun to entertain their friends with iced 
punch, "brought in buckets from Willard's Tavern (now the Horse Railway Station), 
and served out in the shade on the northern side of Har\-ard Hall." This practice led 
to drunkenness and disturbances, and finall}', in 1838, President Ouincy encouraged the 
conversion of Class Day into the respectable celebration which it has since been. Not only 
the Faculty and a few residents of Cambridge, but the friends of the Seniors from far 
and wide, were invited to the exercises; ladies, young and old, attended the "spreads" 
— or entertainments — provided b\- the Seniors, and, with the introduction of the gentler 
sex, the performances became gentle. In 1850, after the exercises in the Chapel, the 
class, accompanied by friends and guests, withdrew to Harvard Hall, where there was a 
rich collation. "After an interval of from one to two hours," writes a recorder at that 
date, " the dancing commences in the Yard. Cotillions and the easier dances are here 
performed, but the sport closes in the Hall with the Polka and other fashionable steps. 
The Seniors again form, and make the circuit of the buildings, great and small. The\- 
then assemble under the Libertv Tree, around which, with hands joined, they dance, after 
singing the students' adopted song, ' Auld Lang Syne.' At parting each member takes a 

VOL. I i^ 



sprig or a flower from the beautiful 'Wreath' which surrounds the 'farewell tree,' which 
is sacredly treasured as a last nieuiciito of college scenes and enjoyments." ' 

Other officers, besides the Orator and I'oet, ha\'e been added from time to time ; there are 
now three Marshals, ciiosen for their popularity or for athletic prowess ; a Chorister, \\ho 
writes the music for the Class Song, and conducts the singing at the Tree; an Odist, who 
composes an ode to be sung to the tune of " Fair Harvard," at the morning exercises; and an 
Ivy Orator. The last officer is expected to deliver a humorous composition, in which he 
hits off, in merry fashion, the history of the Class, not sparing his classmates nor the Faculty. 


Forty years ago it was the custom to plant an i\y when a President went out of office; 
then each Class planted its ivy on Class Day, and listened to the Orator. But as the ivy 
never grew, the oration was no longer delivered in the open air under the shadow of 
Boylston, but in the Chapel, and now in Sanders Theatre. The Seniors also choose a 
Secretary (who publishes, from time to time, a Class Report), a Class Committee, a Class 
Day Committee, and a Photograph Committee. A H}-mnist and a Chaplain arc no longer 

1 College Words and Customs. 


Class Day has long been the gala day of Cambridge. The "spreads" and "teas" have 
become more and more, elaborate. Every Senior who can afford it takes this opportunity 
of entertaining his friends, and of paying off social debts. In his cap and gown (which have 
been worn since 1893 instead of evening dress and silk hat) he is, from morning till midnight, 
a person of greater importance than, presumabl}-, he will ever be again. And on no other 
occasion in these parts can there be seen so many pretty faces and dresses, so many proud 
parents, and so much genuine merriment. The literary exercises in the forenoon are followed 
b>- the spreads, at some of which there is dancing ; then by the exercises at the Tree, with 
the final struggle for the wreath, and then by teas and dancing throughout the cvenint^. 
When darkness comes the Yard is illuminated by festoons of Japanese lanterns; the Glee 
Club sings in front of Holworthy; the Banjo and Mandolin Clubs play on the steps of Austin 
Hall ; and then, at ten o'clock, a pyrotechnic piece, in which the number of the class is inter- 
woven, is set off; but it is still some time before the last visitors turn towards home, and 
the Seniors, wearied out with excitement, drop into bed. 

Unfortunately, the great increase in the number of students has so swelled the attendance 
on Class Day as to threaten an undesirable change in its character. Of late years from 10,000 
to 12,000 tickets to the Yard, and from 4000 to 5000 tickets to the Tree have been distributed. 
In 1895, the Corporation conferred with the Class Day Committee of 1897, with a view to 
correcting abuses, and suggested that the festivities be scattered over three daj's, instead of 
being concentrated on one da}- ; and they strenuously objected to the exercises at the Tree. 
The\' pointed out that the temporary benches were unsafe for the spectators, in case of 
panic, and that they endangered the adjoining buildings, in case of fire. The Corporation 
further objected to the scrimmage for flowers, which had become almost a " slugging match," 
in which participants ha\'e their football clothes torn off, or their faces bloodied. The Class 
of 1897, after much agitated discussion, decided to retain the exercises at the Tree, but to 
remove, if possible, their objectionable features, and, by limiting the number of admissions and 
providing better benches, to decrease the risk from panic. The Corporation still remained firm, 
and in 1898 the exercises were transferred to the Delta, around the John Harvard statue. 

On the lists of Class Day Orators and Poets are found the names of many men who 
distinguished themselves in later life, and so justified their classmates' choice. For instance, 
among the orators are H. G. Otis, 1783; Henry Ware, 1785; J. C. Warren, 1797; James 
Walker, 1814; E. S. Gannett, 1820; F. J. Child, 1846; and Henry Adams, 1858. Among 
the Poets are Joseph Story, 1798; Washington Allston, 1800; J. G. Palfrey, 181 5; George 
Bancroft, 1817; W. H. Furness, 1820; R. W. Emerson, 1821 ; George Lunt, 1824; F. H. 
Hedge, 1825; C. C. Felton, 1827; O. W. Holmes, 1829; J. R. Lowell, 1838; and E. E. 
Hale, 1839. The old custom of giving a jack-knife to the ugliest man in the Senior Class 
was abandoned when classes became so large that either there was less intimacy among 
their members, or it was impossible to agree upon the person to be thus distinguished ; but 
each class still presents a cradle (usuall)- commuted into a piece of silver) to the first 
child born to a member of the Class. The class of 1877, owing to internal dissensions, 
failed to elect Class Day officers, except a secretary, — who was the late William Eustis 
Russell, Governor of Massachusetts. 



I 11. WE come upon no description of the ilress of the students durinj:^ the seventeenth centun. 
Probably there were no restrictions, the academic costume of the English Universities hav- 
ing been generally copied. But, b}- the middle of the last century, some of the students were so 
extravagant in their garb as to call out the following vote from the Overseers (October 1754) : 
" It appearing to the Overseers, that the costly habits of many of the scholars, during their 
residence at the College, as also of the candidates for their degrees on Commencement days, 
is not only an unnecessary expense, and tends to discourage persons from gi\ing their 
children a College education, but is also inconsistent with the gravity and demeanor proper 
to be observed in this Society, it is therefore recommended to the Corporation to prepare 
a law, requiring that on no occasion an}' of the scholars wear any gold or siK'er lace, or any 
gold or sil\-er brocades in the College or town of Cambridge ; and that, on Commencement 
days, every candidate for his degree appear in black, or dark blue, or gray clothes ; and 
that no one wear any silk night-gowns ; and that any candidate who shall appear dressed 
contrary to such regulations may not expect his degree." Gowns were introduced about 
1760, but, after the Revolution, the prescription of 1754 seems to ha\e been unobser\-ed, 
for, in 1786, another sumptuar}- law was established, prescribing a distinct uniform for each 
of the classes. " All the Undergraduates shall be clothed in coats of blue gray, and with 
waistcoats and breeches of the same color, or of a black, or nankeen, or an ojixe color. The 
coats of the Ereshmen shall have plain button-holes. The cuffs shall be without buttons. 
The coats of the Sophomores shall have plain button-holes, like those of the Freshmen, but 
the cuffs shall have buttons. The coats of the Juniors shall have cheap frogs to the button- 
holes, except the button-holes of the cuffs. The coats of the Seniors shall have frogs to 
the button-holes of the cuffs. The buttons upon the coats of all the classes shall be as near 
the color of the coats as they can be procured, or of a black color. And no student shall 
appear within the limits of the College, or town of Cambridge, in anj- other dress than in 
the uniform belonging to his respective class, unless he shall have on a night-gown or such 
an outside garment as may be necessary over a coat, except onl}' that the Seniors and Juniors 
are permitted to wear black gowns, and it is recommended that they appear in them on all 
public occasions. Nor shall any part of their garments be of silk ; nor shall the\- wear 
gold or silver lace, cord, or edging upon their hats, waistcoats, or any other parts of their 
clothing. And whosoever shall violate these regulations shall be fined a sum not exceeding 
ten shillings for each offence." ' 

The students rebelled against this prescription, and, in 179S, the rules about frogs and 
button-holes were abrogated, but the blue-gra\- or dark-blue coat was still prescribed. Three- 
cornered cocked hats were then in fashion ; the hair " was worn in a queue, bound with a 
black ribbtin, and reached to the small of the back." l-'ar-locks were subjected to curling- 
tongs and crimping-iron. Lawn or cambric furnished ruffles for the shirt bosom. The 
shoes were pointed, and turned ujiward at the end, " like the curve of a skate." Buckles 
for the knees and shoes, a shining stock for the throat, a double-breasted coat, waistcoat 
and breeches, completed the toilette of the student at the close of the last century. 

' Laws of 1790. 


Again, in 1822, the Faculu- tried to regulate the dress of the undergraduate, and passed 
the following ordinance, which was not formally abolished for many years ; " Coat of black 
mixed (called also Oxford mixed, black with a mixture of not more than onc-twcnticth, 
nor less than one twenty-fifth part of white), single breasted, with a rolling cape, square at 
the end, and with pocket-flaps, the waist reaching to the natural waist, with lappels of the 
same length ; with three crow's-feet made of black silk cord on the lower part of the sleeve 
of the coat of a Senior, two on that of a Junior, and one on that of a Sophomore. Waistcoat, 
of black-mixed or of black, or, when of cotton or linen fabric, of white ; single-breasted, 
with a standing collar. Pantaloons, of black-mixed, or of black bombazet, or, when of cotton 
or linen fabric of white. Surtout or great-coat, of black-mixed, with not more than two 
capes ; or an outer garment of camlet or plaid. The buttons of the above dress must be 
flat, covered with the same cloth as that of the garment ; not more than eight nor less than 
six on the front of the coat, and four behind. A surtout, or outside garment, is not to be 
substituted for the coat ; but the Students are permitted to wear black gowns, in which they 
may appear on all public occasions. A night-gown of cotton, or linen, or silk fabric, made 
in the usual form, or in that of a frock-coat, may be worn, except on the Sabbath and on 
Exhibition or other occasions when an undress would be improper. Neckcloth, plain black, 
or plain white. Hat of the common form and black ; or a cap, of an approved form. Shoes 
and boots black." This costume was to be worn, moreover, in vacation as well as in term- 
time, under penalty of dismission. In the catalogue of 1825, the following prices are given: 
"coat $15 to $25; pantaloons, $4 to $8; vest, $3 to $5; outside coat, $15 to $25." 

In the catalogue for 1849, the requirements for dress are stated thus: "On Sabbath, 
Exhibition, E.xamination and Commencement Days, and on all other public occasions, each 
student in public shall wear a black coat, with buttons of the same color, and a black hat or 
cap." But with the increase of students, the difficulty of examining the color of their buttons 
also increased ; moreover, academic sentiment tended toward freedom in this as in other mat- 
ters, so that, although the sumptuary laws still remained in the College " Bible," they were less 
frequently enforced, and from about 1 870 we hear no more of them. Students now dress 
as they please; the force of custom sufficed to bring the Seniors out in e\'ening dress and silk 
hats on Class Day and Commencement, until 1893, when the Class voted to wear caps and 
gowns on Class Day and Commencement ; and since custom of late years has sanctioned the 
wearing of tennis suits or bicjxle garb to College exercises, the last vestige of uniformity and 
soberness in dress has vanished. 

College Clubs and Societies 

COLLI'XjE societies have plaj-ed so large a part in undergraduate life during the present 
centur\- that we are curious to know what societies there were at Har\-aril two centuries 
ago. I have found, unfortunately, no mention of clubs or societies in early times. About the 
middle of the eighteenth century the Faculty took particular pains to improve the declamation of 
the students ; and this seems to have led to the formation of speaking clubs ; for in the entertain- 
ing Diaiy of Nathaniel Ames (Class of 1761) there are several memoranda of plays, such as The 


Roman Fatlur, Addison's Cato, The Revenge and The Orphan, — pcrfoniicd b>- the students in 
their rooms. Under date of November 13, 1758, Ames says " Calabogus Ckib begun ; " December 
9, " went [to] Whitfield chib [at] Hooper's cham[ber] ; " December 3 1 , •' Chib at ni\- clianibcr ; " 
May 5, 1759, " Joyn'd the Tea Club ; " October 19, " Joyn'd a new Chib." What the proceedings 
of these societies were \vc can only conjecture. Not until 1770, do we come to an association 
which still exists. This, the "Institute of 1770," was originally a Speaking Club, founded 
by Samuel Phillips, John Wancn and ollur Seniors in the Class of 1771. No incnihcr was 
allowed to speak in Latin without special leave from the President. The orators spoke on 
a stage four feet in diameter, two feet high, " with the front Corners dipt," and they chose such 
subjects as "The Odiousncss of Envy," and " The Pernicious Habit of Drinking Tea." In 1773, 
this Club united with the " .Mcrcurian Club," founcK-d two )-ears before b}- h'ishcr Ames. In 
1801, it called itself "The Patriotic .Association," and, latLr, "The Social P'raternity of 1770." 
In 1825, two more rivals, "The Hermetick Society" and the " ' AKpi/SoXoyov/xevot." coalesced 
with it, under the name of the " Institute." It passed from the Seniors to the Juniors, and 
at last to the Sophomores, who elect in May every }'ear ten I'reshmen ; these, at the beginning 
of their Sophomore ycai', elect the rest of the members — seven or eight" tens" in all — of their 
Class. The " Institute" kept up its literary exercises until about 1875, when it became mercl}- 
the mask behind which the, a secret society, hid itself The first four or five " tens " 
were members of the A.K.E. ; the others had the cmjjt)- honor of calling themselves members 
of the "Institute." The A.K.E., popularly called "the Dickey," is now the most harmful 
society in the College; its regular meetings resemble the Kneipe of German students; its neo- 
phytes arc subjected to silly and sometimes injurious hazing, under the guise of initiation; its 
members give three theatrical performances each }'ear. Some of the most prominent members 
of the Class of 1883, finding that they could not reform the A.K.E., resigned from it in a body. 
About 1890, the newspapers having given startling reports of the proceedings of the Dickey, 
the Faculty threatened to abolish it: whereupon its members pledged themselves to do away 
with the more objectionable practices. ' 

The Harvard Chapter of the Phi Beta Kappa was founded in 1779. In its origin it was 
a secret society, devoted to the encouragement of literary exercises. Its members were Seniors 
and Juniors. In 183 1, the veil of secrecy was withdrawn, and the mystic letters <1>.B.K. were 
found to stand for <\>i\o<jo^La Bi'ou Kv^epvi'jTtji, — " Philosoph}' the guide of life." Its members 
were chosen according to their rank in scholarship ; rarely, besides the first twenty-five, a 
man of lower grade was admitted. The undergraduate work of the Society ceased long 
ago ; but it holds a meeting annually on the day after Commencement, at which graduate 
and undergraduate members attend, to listen to an oration and a poem b\- men of distinc- 
tion chosen for the occasion. Honorary membership is coveted by those who failed while ; 
in College to secure the rank required for election, but who since graduation have distinguished ! 

The " 1 lasty Pudding Club " is the most characteristic and famous of all the Harvard .Socie- ' 

ties. It was founded in 1795, by members of the Junior Class, among whom were Horace ' 

Binney and John Collins Warren. Its aims were to " cherish the feelings of friendship and j 

patriotism." At its weekly meetings two members in turn provided a pot of hasty pudding. ' 

Besides the regular debates and cssa_\-s, there was given a jiublic performance every spring, at ! 

which an oration and poem were delivered. On December 13, 1844, members of the Class i 

of 1845 ga^'e in Hollis 1 1 the burlesque Bonibastes Fnrioso, with which the custom of performing 



a farce originated ; this has gradually been extended until now there are three theatrical per- 
formances each year — one before Christmas, one before the Spring recess, and one, "Straw- 
berry Night," just before Class Day. For many years the "Pudding" troupe repeated their 
performances in Boston and New York for the benefit of the University Boat Club; but in 
1896, the Faculty refused permission for the theatrical or musical clubs to give performances 
in places so distant that the students could not return to Cambridge from there the same even- 
ing. Up to 1849, the Pudding's meetings were held in the rooms of the members; then, the 
College allowed the Society to use Stoughton 29, to which three other rooms were subsequently 
added. But, owing to a fire in 1876, which broke out in the Pi Eta rooms in Hollis, the Fac- 
ulty removed the Club to the wooden Society Building on Holmes Field. This was so far away 
that the meetings were poorly attended, and the Class of 1880 hired supplementary rooms on 


Brattle Street. That Class also raised a subscription among its members for a new building; 
the Class of 188 1 took the scheme up, laid it before the graduates, formed committees for col- 
lecting funds, and so pushed the project that in 1888 a large new club-house, costing over 
$30,000 and containing a library, meeting-rooms and theatre, was dedicated on Holyoke Street. 
Formerly, the Seniors chose eight Juniors who in turn elected the members from their class. To 
be on the " first eight" was deemed a sign of great popularity. But with the increase in mem- 
bership this old scheme, which engendered much wrangling, has been given up; the members 
are elected in larger squads, and their names are arranged alphabcticalK". The Class of 1881 
also abolished the old initiation, — running in the Yard, going to bed at sunset, writing mock- 
essays, and the bath in the meal-tub, — childish performances which no longer suited the times. 
The " Pudding " is now the largest social organization in the College ; its secrecy has been 
abandoned, and it ought in the future, if properly directed, to be not only tlie best exponent 
of undcrgratluate opinions, but also a strong means of fostering the interest of the graduates in 




undergraduate affairs. In November 1S95, the I'udilint^ celebrated its centennial b\- a play at 

its theatre ami b_\- a lari^e bamiuet in Hoston, at which Joseph 11. Choate presideil. 

The " Medical Faculty " held an unique place amon<; 1 lar\ard societies, and so de- 
serves to be recorded. It was founded in iSiS, its object beiiiL^ "mere fun." Its early 

meetings were hckl in the 
rooms of the members. "The 
room was made as dark as 
possible ;uul brilliantly lighted. 
The Faculty sat round a long 
table, in some singular and 
antique costume, almost all in 
I large wigs, and breeches with 
knee-buckles. This practice 
\\'as adopted In make a strong 
impression on students who 
were in\'ited in for examina- 
tion. Alembers were always 
examined for admission. The 
strangest questions were asked 
by the venerable board, and 
often strange answers elicited, 
— no matter how remote from 
the purpose, pro\ided there 

was wit or drollery. . . . liurlesque lectures on all concei\able and inconceivable subjects 

were frequently read or improvised by members ad libitiun. I remember something of a 

remarkable one from Dr. .Alden 

(H. U. 182 1 ), upon part of a skele- 
ton of a superannuated horse, which 

he made to do duty for the remains 

of a great German Professor with 

an unspeakable name. Degrees were 

conferred upon all the members, M.D. 

or D.M. (Doctor of Medicine or 

Student of Medicine) according to 

their rank. Honorary degrees were 

liberally conferred upon conspicuous 

persons at home and abroad."' A 

member of the Class of 1828, writes: 

" I passed so good an examination 

that I was made Professor loiigii 

cxtrcDiitatibus, or Professor with long 

shanks. It was a societ\- for purposes 

of mere fun and burlesque, meeting secretly, and always foiling the government in their 

attempts to break it up." * It printed Triennial Catalogues travestying those of the College. 

1). CLUB 

1 Collei;e Words and Customs, 1S50, pp. 199, 200. 





> doggerel Latin of the prefaces to these has been aptly called " piggish." The Catalogue 
of 1830, after stating that "this is the most ancient, the most extensive, the most learned 
and the most divine" of societies, adds: "The obelisks of Egypt contain in hieroglyphic 
characters many secrets of our Faculty. The Chinese Wall, and the Colossus at Rhodes 
were erected by our ancestors in 

sport. ... It appears that the So- H^^^BBHSHIS '^'^'i^v' ^-k^ 

ciety of Free Masons was founded ^^^^^^^SSB^^Sk^Kk^ ^'\<^ 

by eleven disciples of the Medical 
Faculty expelled in A.U. 1425. There- 
fore we have always been Antimason. 
. . . Satan himself has learned many 
particulars from our Senate in regard 
to the administration of affairs and 
the means of torture. . . . ' Placid 
Death ' alone is co-e\al with this 
Society, and resembles it, for in its 
own Catalogue it equalizes rich and 
poor, great and small, white and 
black, old and young." From the 
Catalogue of 1833, we learn that " our 
library contains quite a number of 

books; among others ten thousand obtained through the munificence and liberality of great 
Societies in the almost unknown regions of Kamtschatka and the North Pole, and especially 
through the munificence of the Emperor of all the Russias. It has become so immense that, 
at the request of the Librarian, the Faculty have prohibited any further donations. In the 
next session of the General Court of Massachusetts, the Senate of the Faculty (assisted by the 

President of Harvard University) will petition for 40,000 
sesterces, for the purpose of erecting a large building 
to contain the immense accumulation of books. From 
the well-known liberalit}' of the Legislature, no doubts 
are felt of obtaining it." Among the honorary degrees 
conferred was one on Alexander I of Russia, who, not 
understanding the joke, sent in recognition a valuable 
case of surgical instruments, which went b\- mistake 
to the real Medical School. Chang and Heng, the 
Siamese Twins, Sam Patch, Da}- and ]\Iartin, and 
Martin Van Buren were also among the honorary 
members. The " Medical Faculty " was suppressed 
by the College Government in 1834, but it was sub- 
sequently revived ; but its proceedings have been kept so secret for so manj- years past 
that only on Class Day are even the names of the Seniors who belong to it known, from 
their wearing a black rosette with a skull and bones in silver upon it. 

Only one other society which was organized in the last century still exists : the Porcellian 
or Pig Club, founded in 1791 for social purposes, and united, in 1831, with the Knights of 
the Square Table. It still maintains the secret initiation, but is otherwise a convivial organi- 





zation, having a small mcmbcrshii). and consequently heavy dues. The Club in i.Syo, erected 
a large club-house on the site of the rooms which it has occupied for many years. 

Of other societies which once were famous and have long since been dissolved, men- 
tion should be made of the Navy Club (1796-1846), 
w hose flagship consisted of a mar(|ucc " moored in 
the woods near the place where the house of the 
Honorable J. G. Palfrey now stands;" and of the 
Harvard Washington Corps (1811-34), a military 
company whose parades anil feasts were notorious. 
Then there was the ICnginc Society, which man- 
aged the fire-engine presented to the College by 
the Legislature after the burning of Harvard Hall; 
it used to attend the fires in Cambiitlge and the 
neighboring towns, the firemen staying themselves 
with rum and molasses — "black-strap" — and was 
forcibl)- disbanded in 1S22, after it had flooded the 
room of the College Regent. About 1830, a passion 
for secret societies swept through the American 
Colleges, and Harvard had its chapters of many 
(ireek Letter Societies, which flourished until the advent of the Class of 1859, when they 
were abolished by the I'acult)'. Al that period there also existed a lodge of mock Free 
Masons. Tiie tendency during the 
past generation has been in an oppo- 
site direction. Of late the old Greek 
Letter organizations have been re 
vived, but as social clubs, and secrecy 
— so attractive to the juvenile imagi- 
nation — is now held in less esteem. 
Si.K of these social clubs now have 
houses of their ow n, — the Porcellian. 
the A.D., the Alpha Delta Phi, the 
Zeta Psi, the Delta Phi and the Theta 
Delta Chi. The O.K., founiled in 
1859, is literary, being composed 
chiefly of the editors of College 
papers, and holds fortnightly meet- 
ings in the rooms of its members. 
The Pi Eta (1865) is a Senior So- 
ciety which draws its members from 
those who do not belong to the Hasty 
Pudding. It occupied at first rooms 

in a house on Brighton (now Boylston) Street; in the spring of 1873 it removed to the 
upper floor of the north entry of Hollis, where it remained until January 26, 1876, when 
a fire broke out in its quarters. Its next habitation was in Roberts Block on Brattle Street. 
I'inally, in the spring of 1894, it bought and fitted up a commodious house in VV'inthrop 




Squarc, to which, in 1897, it added a theatre. The Signet, a third Senior Society com- 
prising t\vent>-onc members, was founded in 1870. It is a literary and good fellowship 
society, and now has a snug club-house on Mount Auburn Street. The introduction and 
expansion of the Elective System have greatly modified the social aspects of the College, 
by obliterating the distinction between class and class, and it is evident that this modification 
will increase rather than diminish. 

In the past, societies founded for literary or intellectual purposes almost universally 
became transformed into social organizations, where conviviality and good fellowship were 
the prime requisites. But of late there have sprung up societies composed of men who 
are interested in the same work, and who discuss their favorite topics at their meet- 


ings. Some of these societies arc the Classical Club (1885); I.e Cercle Francais (1886); 
the Dcutscher Verein (1886); the Harvard Natural History Society (1837); the Boylston 
Chemical Club (1887); the Electrical Club (1888); the Historical Society (1880); the 
Finance Club {1878); the Free Wool Club (1889): the Philosophical Club (1878); the 
Art Club (1873); the English Club (1889); the Camera Club (1888); the International 
Law Club ( 189! ) ; and the Shakespeare Club. The religious organizations are the Society of 
Christian Brethren (1802), now transformed into the Young Men's Christian Association; the 
St. Paul's Society (1861); and the Total Abstinence League (1888); The Catholic Club; 
The Prospect Union ; and The Religious Union. The Pierian Sodality, or College orchestra, 
was founded in 1808; the Glee Club in 1858, the Banjo Club in 1886, and the CTuitar and Man- 
dolin Clubs more recently. There arc also a Chess Club which has played intercollegiate tour- 
naments with Columbia, Yale and Princeton, and organizations of members from the chief 


prcparatoi)- schools (Andovcr and Exeter), and of students from the Soutliern States, from 
iMinnesola, Connecticut and Canada. Many of the hterary clubs give public lectures, and the 
musical societies give concerts during the winter and spring months. Many of these 
organizations vary from year to year, according as greater or less interest is taken in their 
respective objects. During political campaigns, students organize partisan clubs, which thrive 
till the excitement is over. Debating, which has had a strong revival at Harvard, got great 
impetus In- the founding of the Harvard Union, in iSSo. The Union, although organ- 
ized primarily for debates, expected in time, like the Unions at Cambridge and Oxford, 
to grow into a social organization comprehensive enough to admit members from all 
sections of the University. But this result was delayed. In 1893, internal dissensions .split 
tile Union into two parts, from wliicli a new Union and a Wendell I'hillips Club, sub- 
sequentl)- known as the Forum, were formed. These societies have conducted debates among 
their own members, and with each other, and furnished most of the speakers who represented 
Harvard in the intercollegiate debates with Yale and IVinceton. In 1898 this dual organi- 
zation was given u]) and a now general socictv', the University Debating Club, was formed to take 
their place. In 1896, an Advisory Committee, consisting of members of the Faculty, of 
several graduates, and of representatives of the Union and Forum was established to sup- 
erintend these contests. During the winter of 1895-96, a body of influential graduates, 
in response to interest which had been aroused, agitated the question of raising money 
for a large University Club, which should do for Harxard what the Unions ha\e done 
at the l^ritish Universities. The general sentiment of alumni and students favored immediate 
action ; but the political and fuiancial condition of the country made it inadvisable to attempt 
to the necessary $200,000 then ; and the project still awaits a more favorable time. 
That such a CIuIj is needeil, no one familiar with the social status of Harvard can deny. 
Of one other recent organization, the Harvard Memorial Society, mention should be made. 
It was founded in 1895, for the purpose of marking buildings and places of historic interest by 
suitable tablets, of conducting public lectures, anil of j)reser\ing Har\ard memorabilia. 

In 1 88 1, students taking Greek courses performed Antigoiic in the original, with 
music composed by Professor J. K. Paine. In 1894, members of the Latin department gave 
Terence's Phormio, and in 1895, students in the luiglish department gave Ben Jonson's 
Epicccnc. Under the auspices of the Department of I'"rench the classic play of Atlialic was pro- 
duced in 1897, b_\' students of Harvard and Radclift'e. ICach of these plays was performed in 
Sanders Theatre, the stage, scenery and costumes being made to reproduce as exactly as 
possible those of Greek, Roman, Elizabethan and Louis XIV times respectively. 

Harv.\rd Jourx.\lism 

H.VRVARD journalism has not, on the whole, taken so high a rank as might be 
desired; it has not, for example, kept the plane which the students' publications 
of Oxford and Cambridge have held. And yet undergraduates have, from time to time, 
been connected with the Harvard journals who have later achieved a reputation in liter- 


ature. The first paper published was the " Harvard Lyceum," July 14, 1810; among its 
editors were Edward Everett and Samuel Oilman, author of " Fair Harvard." It expired 
in 181 1, after eighteen numbers had appeared. The "Harvard Register," an octavo of 
thirty-two pages, was issued in March 1827, but died from lack of support in February 
1828, although George S. Hillard, R. C. Winthrop, C. C. Felton and F. H. Hedge were 
on its editorial board. "The Collegian," starting in P'ebruary 1830, ran out after six num- 
bers. O. W. Holmes was one of its contributors, and furnished several pieces which have 
since been republished in his collected works. " Harvardiana " had a longer life (Septem- 
ber iS35-June 1838), and had J. R. Lowell as one of its editors. The next venture, 
"The Harvard Magazine," was launched in December 1854, and, although sometimes on 
the verge of foundering, floated till July 1864. Among its originators were F. B. San- 
born, Phillips Brooks and J. B. Greenough. In 1S66, appeared a new "Collegian," but 
after three numbers it was suppressed by the Facult}'. In Ma\- 1866, the "Advocate," a 
fortnightly, was issued, and it has had a prosperous career ever since. In 1873, " The Magenta" 
(whose name was subsequently changed to "The Crimson") was founded, and ran success- 
fully till 1883, when it was consolidated with the " Daily Herald " (founded in 1882). 
Previousl}' to the "Herald," in 1S79, "The Echo," the first College daily, had been started, 
and largel}- through the energy of Frank BoUes, its manager, it paid its way. In 1894, 
a bod)' of students ambitious to compete with the "Crimson" founded a second daily 
paper, the " News," which lived through one )-ear, but suspended publication in the autumn 
of 1895. In 1876, an illustrated fortnightly, " The Lampoon," was founded, and soon ex- 
tended its circulation outside of the College, through the clc\cr skit3 and parodies of 
Robert Grant, F. J. Stimson and J. T. Wheelwright, and the comic cartoons of F. G. 
Attwood. Its publication ceased in 1880, but in the following \-ear a new series was 
begun. "The Har\-ard Monthl)-," more solid in character, was founded in 18S5. Moses 
King, a member of the Class of 18S1, published an illustrated monthly, called the "Har- 
vard Register," from January 1880 to July 1881. Iiarly in 1892, some graduates of the 
Class of 1878, conceived the project of establishing a magazine which should furnish 
the alumni with news of the University and be a medium for the discussion of perti- 
nent topics. A general meeting of the alumni was called in Boston, Phillips Brooks pre- 
siding, and so much interest was manifested that a general can\-ass was made for the 
support of Harvard men throughout the country. Returns sufificienth" favorable were soon 
received, and on October i, 1892, was issued the first number of "The Harvard Graduates' 
Magazine," a quarterly of from 160 to 176 pages. Its management is in the hands of 
the executive committee of a Council elected annually b\- the Harvard Graduates' Maga- 
zine Association. William Roscoe Tha3'er, of the Class of 188 1, was appointed its editor, 
and Frank Bolles, LL.B., 1882, its University Editor. On the death of Mr. BoUes in 
1894, lie was succeeded by Professor Albert Bushnell Hart. In 1894, a Radcliffe College 
department was added, under Miss Mary Goes. Since 1874, an annual director)- of member- 
ship in clubs and societies, called the " Index," has been issued about Christmas time. 



Sports and Gymnastics 

Wl", lia\-c 111) record of tlu- j^amcs and sports in wliicli the students of the scvcn- 
tcciitli ceiitiirj- indiilj,'cd. I'resluncn, down to tlic Revolution, were required to 
" furnish batts, balls and footballs for the use of the students, to be kept at the Hut- 
tery." Drillini; with the train-band was a favorite diversion of our ancestors, and as it 
seems u< have been followed by a ;^ood deal of driiikint;, the Harvard Faculty rarely 
train." In da\s when the l-"reshmen were fags, they, at least, did 

ercise, often of a pccu- 

allowcd students to 
not lack physical cx- 
liar kind. In \. .Ames' 
entries as these: "June 
Grass mow 'd . " " J u 1 \" i , 
hay." Hunting was 
neighborhood, for the 
" September lO ( 1759) 
him." " SeptemlH'r I I. 
evening." " Septem- 
Hr.iU Hliss & others." 
on Fresh I'ond. l"re- 
took place between the 
writer in the " Xew 
(vol. iii, ]). 2y)) de- 
enjoined !))• the Ciov- 
been in \ogue from 
was for the Sopho- 
Freshmcn to a wrest- 
Sopiiomores were 
ga\c a similar chal- 
conquered, the Seniors 
treated the victors to 
etc., as they chose to 


" Diar)'" we meet such 
26(1758). President's 
finished the President's 
also to be had in this 
same diarist rejxirts, 
a Hear seen. Mtii hunt 
Bear kil'd, a dance this 
ber 26 a Hear kill'd b}' 
There was skating, too, 
quenl fights, or rushes, 
two lower classes. A 
iMigland Magazine " 
scribes " a custom, not 
ernmeiit, [which] had 
link,- immemorial. That 
mores to challenge the 
ling match. If the 
tlirown, the Juniors 
lenge. If these were 
entered the lists, or 
as much wine, punch, 
drink. . . . Being dis- 

gusted with these customs, wc [Class of 1796] held a class-meeting, early in our first quarter, 
and voted unanimously that we should never send a Freshman on an errand ; and, with but 
one dissenting \oice, that we would not challenge the next class that should enter to wrestle." 
The Har\ard Washington Corps, a military company, was established about the j-ear 1769, and 
from its motto — Tarn Marti qnam Mcrciuio — it was first called the Marti-Mercurian Band. 
It flourished nearly twent\' years; was revived in 181 1, and was finally disbanded in 1834. 

The first regular training in gymnastics was given by Dr. Charles Follen, who, about 
1830, set up apjjaratus on the Delta. At that time swimming was the favorite sport, and 
as the Charles River had not yet been turned into a sewer for Brighton, its waters were 
clean. Rowing-parties made their rendezvous at Fresh Pond. Colonel Higginson ' tells of 

' IJanard Book, 




a member of the Class of 1839 wlio was cited before the Faculty oa the char^je of oun- 
iii!^ a ducking-float there, and when he pleaded that it was in no wa>- a inalimi pioliibi- 
tiiin, he was told " that no student was allowed to keep a domestic animal except by- 
permission of the l-'acult\-, and that a boat was a domestic animal within the meaning 
of the statute." Cricket, base-ball and foot-ball, but of old-fashioned, crude varieties, were 
pla\-cd at that time. The last " was the first game into which undergraduates were initiated, 
for on the first evening of his college life the Freshman must take part in the defence 
of his class against the Sophomores." About 1S44, Belcher Kay opened a gymnasium. 

Rowing began in earnest in 1S44, when the Class of 1846 bought an eight-oarcd 
boat, the " Star," which they re-named the " Oneida." " It was 37 feet long, lapstreak 


built, heavj-, quite low in the water, with no shear and with a straight stem." Other 
boats, the "Huron," the " Halc\on, ' the "Ariel" and the "his," were almost immedialel}' 
purchased, each belonging to a club. In 1846, a boat-house was built. The races took 
place among the various college clubs and also with outsiders. On August 3, 1852, the 
first intercollegiate race was rowed at Centre Harbor, on Lake Winnipiseogee, between 
the Har\ard "Oneida" and the " Shawmut," of Yale, the former winning by about four 
lengths over a two-mile course. The ne.xt race with \'ale, in 1855, on the Connecticut at 
Springfield, was won by the Harvard " Iris," when short outriggers were used for the first 
time, and the steering was done b)' the bow oar (Alexander Agassi?.). The next jear 
the first University boat was built at St. John, then the chief rowing town on this side 
of the Atlantic; and the Har\ard crew competed in the usual 4th of _|ul_\- regatta on 
the Charles River. In 1857 Harvard, having been defeated by Boston clubs, ordered a 




six-oar shell of Mackay, willi wliicli (June 19, 1858) she won the Beacon Cup, and beat 
a workingmen's crew on July 4th. This )ear was organized an Intercollegiate Rowing 
Association, composed of Harvard, ]5rown, Vale and Trinity, but, owing to the drowning of 
the Vale stroke-oar, Dunham, just before the race, the regatta was abandoned. Yale, Brown 
and Harvard met on Take Qiiinsigamond in 1859, and the last won easily, repeating her vic- 
tory in i860. Then followed a lull till 1864, when Harvard was beaten by Yale. The annual 
race between these two colleges took place at Worcester down to and including 1870 — Harvard 
winning seven out of nine times. Sliding seats, used first by Yale in 1870, were adopted by 
Harvard in 1872; the Ayling oars were introduced from England at Cambridge in 1870, and 
from time to time improvements were made in the outriggers and row-locks. The most 

*'•' '-"Trfir- r^i- 



famous of all the races in which llar\ard competed was rowed against O.xford, from I'utncy 
to Mortlake, four miles and three furlongs, on August 27, 1869. The crews consisted of four 
men with a coxswain, and Oxford won by six seconds in 22 min. 41J sec. The College 
regattas were now revived, and were held at Springfield in 1871-73, and at Saratoga 1874- 
76. Amherst and Cornell each won twice, and Columbia once. But this .system did not 
commend itself to Harvard and Vale; the number of crews entered (eleven in 1873 and 
thirteen in 1875) caused many fouls and disputes, and, beginning with 1877, Harvard and 
Yale agreed to row by themselves. From 1878 to 1895, their annual race was held on the 
Thames River, at New London, two or three daj-s after Commencement. Harvard has 
usually rowed a preliminary race with Columbia. In 1874, Robert Cook introduced the 
"Oxford stroke" at Vale, which was ado]3ted and perfected by \V. A. Bancroft (H. U. 
1878), the oarsman to whom, more than all others. Harvard owes its aquatic prestige. In 
order to bring out and train as many oarsmen as possible, the system of "Club crews" 


was encouraged during the seventies, but these were superseded (1879) by Class crews, 
which competed every May over the Ciiarlcs River course. From 1890 to 1898, a new 
system was adopted in the Weld Boat Club, formed to stimulate rowing among students 
not in the regular crews. This has developed great interest, and in 1897, the crew beat the 
'Varsity, and compelled a complete reorganization of that crew. Freshmen races with other 
colleges — Cornell, Columbia, University of Penn.sylvania, etc. — have been kept up. The 
methods of training have undergone great changes. At first, oarsmen trained for only a 
few weeks before the race; then, a very severe diet was insisted upon; finally, for the past 
twent)- \-ears, the training has begun in the autumn and continued throughout the College 
year, but the food and drink allowed have been more rational. During the period of 


'varsity crew .at new LONDON 

the annual race with Vale, about a fortnight before the race the 'Varsity crew goes 
to New London where quarters were built for it in 1881, and received final instruction 
from a coach. Harvard's great lack, during recent seasons, has been a competent coach. 
The Athletic Committee declined to sanction the employment of a paid professional, 
although it was willing to appoint an assistant who should be on the same footing as 
the Instructor in Physical Training. In 1895, Mr. R. C. Watson, a graduate of the Class 
of 1869, consented to sen'e gratuitously for three years. In the autumn of 1896 he 
retired, and Harvard was fortunate in securing as a coach i\Ir. R. C. Lchmann, a graduate 
of Cambridge University, and the leading amateur rowing expert in Ivngland, who came to 
Cambridge and prepared the Crew for the races in 1897 and 1898. Owing to the rupture 
of athletic relations with Yale, a race was arranged with Cornell, Columbia and the Uni- 
versity of Pennsylvania, and was rowed at Poughkeepsie, on June 26, 1896, Cornell being 
the winner. In 1897 '>"cl 1898, Cornell beat both Harward and ^'ale. 
VOL. L — 14 



Base-ball, the second in importance of University sports, is even joungcr than Ri)\ving. 
It originated, apparently, in the old game of rounders. Up to 1862, there were two varieties 
of base-ball — the New \'ork and the Massachusetts game. In the autumn of 1862, 
George A. Tlagg and Frank Wright organized the Base-Ball Club of the Class of '66, 
adopting the New York rules; and in the following spring the city of Cambridge granted the 
use of the Conuiion for practice. A challenge was sent to several colleges: "\'ale replied 
that they had no club, but hoped soon to have one; but a game was arranged with the 
Brown Sophomores, and played at Providence June 27, 1863. The result was Harvard's first 
victory. Interest in the game grew rapidly. On July 9, 1864, Harvard encountered the 

lAKVIS llEl.U 

Lowell Club — then the most famous in New I-Ingland — on the Boston Common, but 
was defeated. Class nines were organized, and from the best of these the 'Varsity nine 
was made up. For several years the chief contests were between Har\ard and the 
Lowells or the Trimountains, and, — among professionals — the Athletics, of riiilacUlphia, 
and the Atlantics, of Brooklyn. In 1868, the first game with Yale was pla)'ed. From 
that year until 1871, Harvard had a remarkable nine, of which A. McC. Bush was cap- 
tain and catcher. In 1869, it made a long tour, playing the strongest clubs in the 
country, professionals as well as amateurs, and all but defeating the Red Stockings of 
Cincinnati, then the champions. After Bush and his colleagues left college Harvard was 
less successful during several j-ears, but under the captaincy of ¥. W. Thayer, '78, it was 
again the leading College club. He invented the catcher's mask — an invention which 


21 1 

brought about the greatest possible change in the method of pla)- ; sacrifice hits, base- 
stealing and curve-pitching — which was declared an impossibility by instructors in physics 
— came in at this time, and added to the precision of the game. Since 1878 Harvard, 
although frequently victorious, has had but two excellent nines, that of 1885, captained by 
Winslow, and that of 1897 captained b\- James Dean. The nine trains in the Gymnasium 
during the winter, and is coached by a professional. The most remarkable game on record 
was played by the Harvards and Manchesters in 1877; it lasted twenty-four innings, neither 
club making a run. Games in Cambridge were played on the Delta, until that was chosen 
as the site of Memorial Hall ; then Jarvis Field was converted into a ball-field. About 


soldier's field 

1876 base-ball and foot-ball were played on Holmes Field; and a little later a cinder 
fifth-mile track was laid out on Jarvis b}- the Athletic Association. About 1883 Holmes 
Field was regraded, a quarter-mile track was laid and the base-ball diamond fixed there; 
Jarvis being given up to foot-ball and tennis. This arrangement lasted till 1895, when foot- 
ball games were permanently rcmo\'ed to Soldier's Field, and since 1897, the base-ball games 
have also taken place there. 

Foot-ball, which has latel>- come to be par cxcilhiiCL- the autumn sport, was played in 
desultor)' fashion up to 1873, when the Uni\ersit}- Foot-ball Association was organized. The 
team consisted of fifteen players, and more dependence was placed on individual speed and 
strength than on concerted pla)-. Graduall)-, experience suggested improvements, and at 
Princeton and Yale more than at Harvard the standard of the game was raised. The number 
of players was reduced to eleven, and in 1880, the Rugb\' rules were adopted. In 1885, the 



playing was so rough that the Harvani I'aciiltj- refused to allow the Harvard team to compete; 
but this prohibition was removed the following year. In 1889, however, brutal acts, tricks and 
"professionalism" again called for a remed\-, and Harvard, having withdrawn fmni the " tri- 
angular league" with Trinceton and Vale, negotiated fur the forniation of a " dual league" with 
Vale in foot-ball, base-ball and general athletics, similar to the agreement in rowing. 

The Old Gymnasium, built in i860, sufficed, for a time, for the needs of the students, but 
with the rapid increase in the membership of the College after 1870, the building became over- 
crowded, and in 1878 Augustus llemen\\a_\- (II. L'. 1875) gave the College the newCyni- 
nasium, which, in size and appointments, surpassed an_\- other in the countr\-. ]iy 1895, 
however, the accommodations in even this large building had been outgrown, and Mr. Hemen- 
wa\- proxidetl for an addition to it, by which its capacity was nearly doubled. The addition 
consists of two uings, which contain two thousanil fi\e lumdretl and h\ent\-lhree lockers 

(originall)-, there 
hundred and se\-- 
dressing- rooms, 
Troph>- Room, 
and a \ery thor- 
ventilation. Thus, 
main building has 
ticable for gj'm- 
and for exercise, 
and bowling alle_\s 
have been im- 
hand-ball courts 
there. 0\ersevi.ii 
the Gymnasium 
them working reg- 
under the direc- 
gent or his assist- 
tematic course of 
mcnt. The iren- 


M ail 


were only four 
ent>'-four lockers), 
baths, an enlarged 
Directors' offices, 
ough method of 
nnich space in the 
been maile prac- 
nastic ajiparatus 
The base-ball cage 
in the basement 
jiniNed, and five 
lia\e been laid out 
hunilrcd men use 
daily, man}' of 
iilarly in s(iuads, 
ti(in (if Dr. Sar- 
;ints, along a sys- 
physical de\elop- 
eral physique of 

the students has been steadily raised. Men who, a dozen jears ago, ranked among the 
first class in Dr. Sargent's tests would now fall into the second or third class; and not onlj- 
has the average of the best been pushed far ahead, but the number of those attaining to 
an\- class far exceeds the relative gain in the number of students. On the north side of 
the Gymnasium an area 12,000 feet square has been asphalted, for out-of-door exercise in 
winter when the weather permits. 

In 1889 two foot-ball fields were laid out on the Norton estate, behind Divinity Hall, for 
the use of Class and scrub teams. That same year Henry Astor Carey, erected, at an expense 
of $36,000, a brick building on Holmes Field, which was fitted uji with a rowing tank, in which 
the Crews practised in winter, a base-ball cage, fives courts aiicl lockers. In 1897, owing to the 
general remo\-al of athletics to Soldier's I'ield. the Corporation took tlii^ building for purposes 
of instruction, contributing in return $15,000 to be expended in improving Soldier's Field. 
This great playground, comprising twenty-one acres of lowland on the south side of Charles 
River, was presented to the College in 1890 by Major Henry L. Higginson, a member of the 



Class of 1855, and at his suggestion bears the name of Soldier's Field in memory of six of his 
friends, Harvard students, who distinguished themselves in the Civil War. Adjoining this tract, 
the College owns about seventy acres of marsh land, given to it by Henry W. Longfellow ard 
some of his friends: so that there will never be a lack of playground for the students of Har- 
vard. A Locker Building has been put up near the entrance to Soldier's Field (1895) and 
a new base-ball cage (1897); several acres have been fenced in and provided with tiers of 
benches for the foot-ball games ; and it is planned to la\- out fields for the other sports and 
to build a boat-house large enough for the Uni\ersit\' and Class Crews. In 1889 George 
VV. Weld gave money for a boat-house, erected on the ri\er bank near Bojlston Street, for 


such Students as do not belong to the 'Varsit\- and Class Crews. An\- student, b\- pa\-ing a 
small annual fee, has the right to use its boats. 

The Athletic Association, founded in 1874, stimulated the growing interest in physical 
exercise by holding winter meetings in the G\-mnasium, at which there were sparring, wrestling, 
fencing, tumbling, jumping, tugs-of-war, etc., and spring meetings for running, leaping, shot- 
putting, bicycle races, and other out-door sports. After about twenty years, enthusiasm in the 
winter meetings began to flag, and they have been given up. But track athletics still flourish, 
and the best Harvard athletes (since 1876) have competed at the Intercollegiate Games at 
Mott Haven, where Harvard won the first cup, winning eight times (Princeton once, Yale twice, 
and Columbia thrice) in the first sixteen years, 1876-89. Since 1889, Harvard has won three 
times, in 1S90, 1891, 1S92, and Yale four times, 1893-96 inchisive. There have also been 
annual contests in track athletics between Harvard and Yale. 



Of the other athletic ortjanizations it is iinneccssaiy to speak in detail. Cricket, aUhoiiL,'h 
venerable, has never been able to compete in popular favor with base-ball, l^icsclini,^ was intro- 
duced in 1879. almost simultaneous])- with l.awn Tennis; the latter has perhaps done more thin 
an\- other sport to improve the general physique of the students. La Crosse, Sparrint,', Canoe- 
inii and Shooting have all their votaries; and the introduction of Polo about 1890 indicated the 
increasing number of wealthy students. Still more recently. Ice I'nln, Hocke\-, Yachting and 
Golfhave taken their place along with the older sports: the College interest in them varying 
in accordance with the fashion of the world outside. 

The erection of the Hemenway Gymnasium, the rapid increase in the number of stutlents, 
and the <'eneral advance in the public recognition of the importance of i)h\sical development, 


led to the appointment of Dr. Dudley A. Sargent, as Director of the Gymnasium (1879). He 
was both a pln-sician and a gymnast, and under his supervision students arc cxaminetl and 
assigned the apparatus best adapted to their several needs. In 1884, Mr. J. G. Lathrop was 
appointed an assistant in ph\sical training, and has hati especial charge of the candidates for 
the Track .Athletics. 

In 1882, the Facult\- realized that there was danger of abuses from the tours made b\- the 
athletic teams to play matches at distant points, and accordingly a Standing Committee on 
the Regulation of Athletic Sports was appointed. It consisted of fi\e persons, including two 
members of the Corporation and of the Faculty respectivel\-, and of Dr. Sargent. Among the 
regulations adopted by it the most important were these : no College organization should com- 
pete with professionals; ever)- athlete must pass a satisfactor)- physical examination; games out 



of Cambridge should be played on Saturdays only. In 1885, the Committee was reorganized 
to consist of Dr. Sargent, a Cambridge physician, a graduate interested in athletics, and two 
undergraduates, all to be appointed by the President, to report to the Faculty, and to con- 
sult the P'acult)' on c\cry im[)ortant question. .Although this Connnittee did its work 
efficiently, having in view the limitation but not the abolition of sports, the Board of Over- 
seers in 1888, appointed a committee of its own which reported in favor of prohibiting inter- 
collegiate contests. This report led to much discussion, but was not accepted b)- either the 
Board or the l-\icult_\-. A careful in\-estigation of the conditions of athletics was made bj- 
a Faculty Committee which rendered a public report. As a result, a new Athletic Committee 
was created consisting of three graduates and three members of the F'aculty, appointed by 


the Corporation, and of three undergraduates, elected annuall)- b\- representatives of the 
three upper Classes. Thus constituted, the Athletic Committee has existed down to the 
present. It has had to encounter the opposition of many graduates and undergraduates, 
and of a large part of the public, all of whom either objected to having their amusement 
curtailed or attributed to the Committee the responsibility for Har\ard's loss of prestige in 
athletics. Slowly, however, the Committee has helped to educate public opinion in the evils 
of excessive athleticism. It has established sensible rules in the conduct of intercollegiate 
sports. It has weeded out athletes who entered College as special students for no other 
purpose than to play on University teams. It has insisted on a strict maintenance of the 
distinction between amateurs and professionals. It has discouraged the old discrimination 
between Yale and other Uni\ersities, bv arranging annual contests with Princeton, Cornell 



and tlic University of Pennsylvania. In :.S<J5, a particularly brutal foot-ball game between 
Harvard and Yale canseil the suspension of athletic relations between the two Universities 
fur two years. In {■'el)ruar>- 1S97, an ai^'reenient was reached accordinij; to which Harvard 
and \'ale are In compete annually in foot-ball, base-ball, track athletics and rowin.L; for five 
\ears, all contests, except the rowin;j; races, to take ])lacc on the t^rounds of one of the 

ii.\K\.\ui)-VAi.E foot-i;ai.l camk, soi.dikk's Firip, 1.S97 

contestants. This coni])act rellects great credit on the Athletic Committee, which has .so 
long worked for reforms. 

The large sums of mone)' recei\-ed and expended b}- the \-arious athletic organizations 
early required the attention of the Committee, which first appointed a graduate treasurer to 
audit the accounts, and subsecpiently appointed a graduate manager to have full control of the 
finances, as well as of the arrangement of matches. The magnitude of his task can best be 
shown by the summary on the following page of the cost of athletics for the j'car 1895-96. 

The precetling year the totals went still higher, the receipts being $61,146.25, and the 
expenses 4^51,947.09, besides nearly $9000 of old dcbts.^ 

I A detailed history of the Athletic CommiUec frc.r. 1SS2 to iSyi, by I'lof. J. \V. White, can be fouml in the Harvard 
GradnaUs' Magazine for ]m\. 1893. 



Balance from 1894-95 


Athletic Association 


Boat Club 

Tennis Club 

Cricket Club 

Cycling Association 

'99 Foot-ball (deficiency) 

'99 Base-ball 

'99 Boat Club 

Expense Account (including equipment, care of] 
buildings, general wages, salary, and old debts) ) 








Balance surplus 

















IT would be a grateful task to record, if .space permitted, somewhat of the lives of the many 
men who, during the past two hundred and fifty years, have co-operated either b\- gifts 
or money or by their learning, patience and devotion, to the growth and welfare of Har\ard 
University. No otlicr institution in this country has had so long a life, and to none other have 
so many of the best efforts of society" been devoted age after age. The existence and fostering 
of the College at all, — what arc they but proofs that at every period a certain portion of 
the community have recognized the inestimable benefits that spring from the dissemination of 
Truth? We cannot too often repeat that buildings and rich foundations do not, of themselves, 
constitute a Universit}-, — that the Truth of which the University should be the oracle can be 
taught only by wise and true men. And if you look down the list of those who for two 
centuries and a half have governed and taught at Harvard, you will find no lack of such men. 
In their views concerning Truth they have differed according to the times in which they lived 
and worked, but they ha\'c been harmonious in their conviction that Truth, and nothing else, 
should be taught here. 

The influence of Harvard on the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and on the Nation has 
been one of those forces which we have no means of estimating. Shall we reckon it by the 
number of Harvard men in the public service? There have been three Presidents, two Vice- 
Presidents, about twent}' Cabinet Officers, nearl_\- fort_\- Ministers and Ambassadors, twenty-five 


delegates to Colonial and ConlinL-ntal Congresses, about forty national Senators and eight score 
National Representatives, sixty United States Judges, one lunulrcd and lliirt\- Stale Jiulges, 
sixty Governors of States, three Major-Generals during the Revolution, one Rear-Admiral and 
one Major-General in the Rebellion. The list is imposing, but we should ha\e to pass in re- 
view the individuals that make it up, in order to understand its significance. Or say we try to 
measure Harvard's influence by the educators she has trained ; we shall find that seventy-five 
College Presidents have been Harvard men, and that many hundred have been Professors ; but 
here af'ain it would be necessar)- to reduce the abstract figures to indixiduals, if we would get an 
inkling of Harvard's influence in this domain. And after all, the units which compose any list 
are not mutually equal : an Kliot, for instance, is not to be offset b_\- two, or three or fi\e Pro- 
fessors. In literature, however, we must reckon by individual names, or not at all, antl here 
Harvard pre-eminence can never be disputed. To take only the foremost names of the 
nineteenth century, we have l-^merson, Lowell, Holmes and Thoreau, among our poets and 
essayists; Prescott, Sparks, Hancrufi, Motle\-, I'arkman, Wiiisor, Ileiiry Adams and Jnhii l'"iske, 
among historians; Everett, Sumner, Phillips, Winthrop, among orators; and Channing, Theo- 
dore Parker and Phillips Brooks, among religious leaders. In architecture, Bulfinch stood first 
during the first quarter of the century, and H. H. Richardson during the third quarter; both 
were Harvard graduates. So too were Allston antl W. M. Hunt, the painters, and W. W. Story, 
the sculptor. 

Could we trace Harvard's influence in the less conspicuous but honorable paths of pro- 
fessional and business life, we should see that in these also her sons have been worth}- of their 
training. At the present day, some of them can be founil holding high rank among the la\\\x-rs 
and physicians in the great cities; others are Presidents of railwaj-s, or of large corporations; 
others have won distinction in journalism and in commerce. But to prolong such a catalogue 
savors of boasting. Fitter is it that an institution, like an indixidual, should be known by its 
works than bj- eulogy. 

When Harvard was founded, the unexplored forests stretched almost to Cambridge; the 
earl\- teachers may have kept their flint-locks by their desks, against a sudden sally of the 
Indians. But in spite of these actual dangers, in spite of the absence of all the higher ap])liances 
of education, the seminar}- grew. It embodied the ideals and hopes not onl}- of this neighbor- 
hood, but of the whole New England Colony. We have seen how at first, being the offshoot 
of a theocratic communit}-, Har\-ard was bound, on the one hand, b}- the Church, and, on the 
other hand, by the State. The Pilgrims who came to Pl}-mouth, the Puritans who settled Boston, 
did not believe in liberty of conscience ; they desired to worship God after their own fashion, 
and were intolerant of any other worship. And for two generations, as we have seen, they 
imposed their rigid rules unchallenged on the College. But at the beginning of the eighteenth 
century the community was already made up of considerable numbers of non-Calvinists, and 
among the Calvinists themselves there were degrees of strictness. All through that century 
there was a conflict between the liberals and the moderates, and, although the former happily 
prevailed, the Orthodox Church still excluded members of other denominations from taking 
part in the Government or the instruction of the College. Significant is it that the first con- 
spicuous benefactor of Harvard in the eighteenth century was a Baptist. Not until 1792, was a 
layman, James Bowdoin, elected to the Corporation; and, although the election, a dozen years 
later, of Henry Ware to the Chair of Theology plainly indicated the beginning of the end of 
sectarian control, it was not until 1843, that the Board of Overseers was open to clergymen 


of any denoniinaticn. That year, tliercfore, is a landmark in the history of Harvard ; in that 
year she was emancipated from bondage to a single sect. 

Even longer was her servitude to the State. Colonial and Provincial Governors, their 
Councils, and the General Court exercised from decade to decade an ex officio control over the 
College. To them the teachers had to look for salaries, and we ha\-e seen how often they 
looked in vain, how many wore themselves out for a mere pittance, and how President after 
President was hampered and persecuted by the law-makers in Boston. Nor did their condi- 
tion improve when Massachusetts became an independent Commonwealth ; for the State 
retained its control, but shirked the obligations which that control imposed, and at last cut off 
all subventions. The College, forced to support itself, and proving that it could do so, 
demanded that in justice it should govern its own affairs; but, although experience showed how 
pernicious is the mixing up of education with partisanship, it was not until 1865, that the 
Legislature at last released its hold. That year is the other great landmark in Har\ard's 
career; it witnessed her emancipation from the State, and the transfer of the conduct of her 
affairs to those most interested in her prosperity — her alumni. 

From restrictions to liberty has been likewise the course of her progress in other things. 
Once, all studies were prescribed ; now each student is free to choose the studies most con- 
genial to his tastes and talents. Restrictions as to worship, dress and diet have all passed 
away ; we read of them now in the old books, with feelings not unlike those aroused by the 
sight of mediteval instruments of torture at Nuremberg, — they belong to another time; the 
wonder is that men could ha\e thought them profitable or necessary at any time. 

We discern three critical periods in the development of Harvard : first, that covered by the 
administration of Leverett, when the attempts of the Mather faction were frustrated, the relations 
between the Corporation and the Overseers were fixed, the old Charter was revived, and the 
munificence of HoUis and other benefactors strengthened the resources of the College; second, 
Kirkland's term, when the College was expanded into a University through the creation of 
departments of Medicine, Law and Divinity, when old methods of instruction were reformed, 
and more liberal views of religion began to be held, however timidl}^ third, the present 
administration of President Lliot, during which, besides marvellous growth in the College and 
Schools, and besides the erection of man\' buildings and the creation of new departments, there 
are to record the recognition of what a uni\ersity should be, and the endeavor to raise every 
department to the level of that recognition. At no other period has Harvard had so decisive 
an influence on the educational standard of the United States as between 1870 and to-day; 
and henceforth, — freed from the trammels of Church and State, loosed from the bonds of 
obsolete methods, with the consciousness of noble work achieved, with equipments and 
appliances undreamt of even half a century ago, with not merely a struggling colony but a 
vast nation within reach of her voice, — what may she not achieve as the guardian and 
imparter of Truth 1 







The College under Successive Administrations 


I. Eakly Plans kor a Colliige in New Haven, 
II. The Founding of Yale College. 

III. Firm Fstaklishment of the College. 


V. Yale in the Revolution. 

\I. Administration of President Stiles. 

VII. College Life and Work in The Eigh- 
teenth Centuuv. 

VIII. Administration of President Dwight. 

I.\. Administration of President Day. 

X. Administration of President VVooi-sey. 

XI. Administration of President Porter. 

XII. Administration of President Dwioiit. 

The Departments of the University 
I. The Academical Department. 

II. Tin; Divinity School. 


III. The Medical School. 

I\'. The Law School. 

V. The Sheffield Scientific School. 

VI. The Graduate School. 

\\l. The Art School. 

\I1I. The PicAiiODV Museum. 

IX. The Winchester Ohservatory. 

X. The School of Music. 

XI. The LTnivkrsity Lihrary. 

Voluntary Undergraduate Activities 
I. Religious Activities. 
II. Literary Activities. 
III. Athletic Activities. 
IV. Social Activities. 
V. Conclusion. 




Early Plans for a College ix New Haven 

THE Founders of New Haven Colony, led by John Davenport and Theophilus Eaton, 
sought to establish a new State in which religion and education should be matters 
of prime concern. Davenport was the leader in devising plans for promoting 
education. In his ideal of a Christian State, a College had a necessary place, and 
it was a part of his plan from the first to make New Ha\en a College town. Dr. Bacon in his 
historical discourses on New Haven, speaking of the advantage derived by the city from hav- 
ing the College, says, "The privilege may be traced to the influence of John Davenport, to the 
peculiar character which he, more than any other man, gave to the community at its beginning. 
Every one of us is daily enjoying the effects of his wisdom and public spirit. . . . Even in his 
old age he was found struggling with unwearied zeal to establish a College in New Haven for 
the good of posterity." 

Davenport was thus in a sense the original projector of Yale. He was born in Coventrj', 
England, in 1 597, of an old and honored family. At the age of sixteen he went to Oxford, 
three }-ears later was admitted to orders, and soon after was established as \'icar of a church 
in London. Here he soon became distinguished for his " notable accomplishments," and took 
his place among the leaders of the Puritan party. Later he became a non-conformist, and so 
fell under the displeasure of Laud. When the latter became Archbishop, Davenport, with the 
consent of his congregation, sought safet\" in Holland, where he remained three j'ears. These 
were important years in his life, for in them he worked out his theorj- of an independent 
Christian State which led to the founding of New Haven. 

The original plan for the new State included a comprehensive scheme of education. It 
was proposed to establish " schools for all, where the rudiments of knowledge might be gained; 
schools where the learned languages should be taught; a public library; and to crown all, 
a College in which youth might be fitted for public ser\-ice in Church and State." Concerning 
this S}stem of schools, Levermore in his " Republic of New Haven " writes, " The schools, 
public and pri\ate, which were always maintained in New Haven, probably found their proto- 
t)pes and models in the collegia which existed, or had existed, in the mother towns of Ashford, 




Coventry, and London. Hut the little State in the wilderness far outstripped its ancestral 
patterns. No school system like that which Davenport and Eaton planned and upheld then 
existed elsewhere in New or Old England. The foundations of the New Haven State included 
these three fundamental principles of a public education — the absolute freedom of all ele- 
mentary instruction, compulsory education for all children, and a higher education to be at least 
partially supported at the public expense." 

While the New Haven founders were making liberal provision for their schools, and look- 
ing forward to establishing a College of their own, thej- were at the same time ready to help 
the struggling 
the neighboring 
generously help- 
they might have 
rivals, during a 
their tinancial af- 
flourishing, the}- 
genuine interest 
higher education. 
of 1644, the town 
contribution for 
poor scholars at 
The offering con- 
of wheat, or the 
from every one 
willing."' This 
left entirely to 
ity, was soon put 
of a public con- 
as a tax, and Col- 
lege Corn were 
town officers until 
merged in Con- 
In 1647, ten 
time of breaking 
derness, the set- 
time had come 
educational system with a College of their own. 


}-oung College in 
Colon)-. In thus 
ing those whom 
kiokcd upon as 
time also when 
fairs were far from 
s li o w e d their 
in the cause of 
"In the autumn 
began its annual 
the support of 
Har\ard College, 
sistcd of a peck 
\alue of the same, 
' whose hart is 
offering, at first 
personal generos- 
on tiie surer basis 
tribution collected 
lectors of Col- 
rcgularly elected 
the Colony was 

years from the 
ground in the wil- 
tlers thought the 
for crowning their 
Accordingly some land, designated as 

'• college land," was set apart for the support of the proposed institution, and a house 
situated on the corner of College and Chapel Streets, where the New Haven House now 
stands, was also offered for its use. But the same year in which this promising beginning was 
made, witnessed also the complete failure of a commercial enterprise in which the settlers 
had ventured a considerable part of their property, the ship in which so large a stake was 
embarked having never been heard from after leaving port. Owing to this serious loss, the 
settlers found themselves hardly able to carry out at once their plans for a College. Another 
reason for the temporary abandonment of the enterprise should be mentioned. When it 
was known at Harvard that a second College was contemplated, remonstrances were made 



on the ground that " the whole population of New England was scarcely sufficient to support 
one institution of this nature, and that the establishment of a second would in the end be 
a sacrifice of both." 

With regard to the plans of the New Haven settlers, and their postponement, Johnston 
in his " History of Connecticut " says, " It should not be forgotten that, at least in spirit, the 
establishment of Har\ard by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts Bay had a contemporary 
rival in the struggling little settlement on Long Island Sound. But for the different circum- 
stances of the two peoples, and a deference to Harvard's appeals for support, their t^vo 


Universities would have been born almost together, and the two hundred and fiftieth anni- 
versaries of Harvard and Yale would have been almost coincident." 

In 1660, new life was put into the enterprise, and the time for starting the College appeared 
to have been brought on, by the action of Governor Hopkins of Connecticut. He had cor- 
responded with Davenport, and had promised to help in the establishment of the College, 
and at his death it was found that he had left money for this purpose in the hands of Trustees 
of whom Davenport was one. But there was long delay in settling the estate, and when at last 
a beginning of an institution of learning was made, it was of a lower grade than had been 
contemplated. The mone\' in hand, including the Hopkins bequest, was insufficient, and the 
times were not favorable for securing a larger endowment. The future of New Haven 
appeared ver\' uncertain then on account of the failure to secure a separate charter from the 
King, and the prospect of enforced absorption into Connecticut was a source of great dis- 
couragement. Mr. Davenport, however, was still hopeful and unwearied in his efibrts. His 
appeals to the town resulted in some improvement in the prospects of the school, and in 


1668 he was sufficiently satisfied witli it to make over tlic Hopkins bequests to a permanent 
body of Trustees. 

Mr. Davenport eventually moved to Boston, profoundly dissatisfied with the union of 
New Ha\en and Connecticut, and deeply grieved at the failure of his efforts for the estab- 
lishment of an independent Colony. His plans and hopes for a College also appeared to 
have met with complete failure, for the School he left in New Ha\en was obviously much 
below the grade of a College, and there was no prospect of anything better at the time 
of his death in 1670. Hut his work for higher education had not been thrown away. A 
lasting impression had been made by his unwearied efforts for a College, which bore fruit 
before another generation had passed away. Hut others reaped the honor which might fitly 
have been given to him by the bestowal of his name upon the College which he saw with 
the eye of faith, and worked so hard to establish. 

The School which was to have been the College passed through various vicissitudes, but 
has had a continuous and honorable career as " The Hopkins Grammar School " to the present 
day. For many jcars it was located on the Green, about where the North or United Church 
now stands. In 1840, a new building was erected for it at the corner of Wall and High 
Streets, and this building, now much enlarged, is still its home. It jields precedence to 
the Boston Latin School alone, as the oldest school of its grade in the country. 


The Founding of Y.\le College 

Dl'RIXG the second half of the seventeenth ccntur\-, the needs of Connecticut and New 
Haven in the way of liberal education were supplied by Harvard. But the inconven- 
ience of depending on a College at a place so remote as Cambridge then was, led toward 
the close of the century to a revival of interest in the establishment of a second College. New 
Haven was now a part of Connecticut, and the new project was supported by leading men in 
different parts of the enlarged Colon)-. The plan was no longer, as in the time of Davenport, 
for a local College which should round out the New Haven school system, but for one 
which should supply the needs of Southern New England, and attract students from the 
Middle Colonies. 

The demand for a College training came then largely from those who were interested 
in maintaining a high standard of education in the ministry. Accordingly a plan was devised 
in 1698 (?), for establishing a College by a general synod of the churches. "It was intended 
that the synod should nominate the first President and Inspectors, and have some kind of 
influence in all future elections, ' so far as should be necessary to preserve orthodoxy in 
the Governors ; ' that the College should be called ' the school of the church,' and that the 
churches should contribute towards its support. This project failed ; but in the following 
year, ten of the principal ministers of the Colony were nominated and agreed upon by 
common consent, both of the clergj- and laity, to be Trustees, to found, erect and govern 
a College." These ministers came from different parts of the Colony, and were with one 
exception graduates of Harvard College. "The Trustees met in New Haven some time in 



the year 1700, and formed themselves into a society, to consist of eleven ministers, includ- 
ing a Rector, and agreed, to found a College in the Colon)' of Connecticut. At a subse- 
quent meeting the same year, at Branford, each of the Trustees brought a number of 
books and presented them to the association, using words to this effect, as he laid them 
on the table ; / give these books for founding a College in Connecticut. About forty folio 
volumes were contributed on this occasion." Since Professor Kingsley, who quoted Presi- 
dent Clap, wrote his sketch from which the above is taken, it has been questioned whether 
the books were actually brought and laid on the table, and the exact date of the trans- 
action is not known. But it is agreed that a donation of books in some form was made in 



a house in Branford before the Charter was granted, and this was intended to be, and has 
ever since been considered, the initial act in the founding of Yale College. This house in 
which the College was bom remained standing until 1835. It was then torn down, but the 
outer doors, together with a plan of the house showing the room in which the founders 
met, are still in existence. 

The following were the ten ministers who b\- their formal action at Branford became 
the Founders of Yale: 

Rev. Samuel Andrew of Milford, who for several years was a resident Fellow or Tutor 
at Harvard, where he " gained great reputation as a scholar and as an instructor," and later 
became the second Rector of Yale. 

Rev. Thomas Buckingham of Saybrook, a native of Milford, educated at the Hopkins 
School in New Haven, and long " recognized as one of the most able men in the Colony." 


Rev. Israel Ghauncy of Stratford, son of tlie second President of Harvard, at one time 
teacher of the Hopkins School in New Haven, a man of \aried gifts, who besides his stand- 
ing as a clergyman had " a high reputation for medical skill as well as for general scholarship." 

Rev. Samuel Mather of Windsor, closely connected with the celebrated Mather family 
of Hoston, and exceptionally successful as a pastor. 

Rev. James Noyes of Stonington, " the leading minister of the Colony, and the one 
usually invited to preside as moderator at councils and other meetings of the clergy." 

Rev. James I'ierpont of New Haven. " whose doctrinal soundness and wisdom in counsel 
gave him a commanding influence throughout the Colon\-." 

Rev. Abraham Pierson of Kenilworth, son of the principal founder of Newark, New 
Jersey, who on coming to Connecticut " took a prominent place at once among the ministers of 
the Colony and was known as an able scholar," and later became the first Rector of Vale. 

Rev. Noadiah Russell of Middletown, a native of New Ha\en, where " his parents had 
been among the original settlers." 

Rev. Joseph Webb of Fairfield, where he had been settled but a few years prior to 1700. 

Rev. Timoth)- Woodbridgc of Hartford, than whom " no minister in the Colony had a 
higher reputation for learning, for wisdom in counsel, and for public spirit, or had gained 
more completely the public confidence." 

Seven of these men were identified with towns of the old New Haven jurisdiction, as 
was eminently fitting, in view of New Ha\en's early aspirations for a College, and its subse- 
quent success in securing Yale. In fact, the new plan was in a measure an outgrowth from 
the older one already described. The memor\- of Mr. Davenport's earnest efforts remained, 
and the hope was still cherished that his plan for a College might \et be carrictl out. I'urther- 
niorc, the most active man among the promoters of the new scheme, who might by pre- 
eminence be called f/tr Founder of ^'ale, was Rev. James Pierpont, upon whom Mr. Davenport's 
mantle had fallen. He was born in Koxbury, graduated at Harvard in tlie Class of 1681, 
and four )-ears later was settled in New Haven as Pastor of the I'irst Clnirch. His second 
wife was Mr. Davenport's granddaughter, and thus, as successor and reir.tive by marriage 
to the first projector of a College in New Haven, he would natura!l_\' take a deep interest 
in the plan which at the earlier period had failed of realization. He was well fitted to take 
up the work of his elder, and under more favorable conditions start it toward a successful 
issue. In the first trying j-ears the laboring oar fell to him, and without him it ".vould 
seem that the enterprise might have fallen through. Toward the close of his life, it was 
at his solicitation that Mr. Dummer, the CoIon\-'s agent in England, sought the acquaintance 
of Governor Yale, and enlisted his interest in the struggling j-oung College at what proved 
to be the crisis of its early history. 

James Pierpont, like John Davenport before him, did not live to see the full fruition 
of his hopes. At his death in 1714, the College was not firmly established, nor even brought 
to New Haven where he wished it to be. But his work has been carried on b>- his descend- 
ants, three of whom have presided over the destinies of Yale at important stages in its career 
namely, the elder President Dwight, President Woolsey, and the second President Dwight, 
now at the head of the University. 

In 1 701 the Colonial Assembly met for the first time in New Haven, and a petition 
for a charter was presented to it, numerously signed by ministers and others. In reply to 
this petition, the Assembly promptly- passed an Act bearing date October 9, incorporating 



the College. It was not however called a College. The name given to it was a " Collegiate 
School," and this was announced to Mr. Buckingham with the remark, " We on purpose 
ga\e your academy as low a name as we could, that it might the better stand in wind and 
weather." The explanation of this is to be found in the danger at that time of incurring 
the displeasure of the Crown by the exercise of functions beyond the scope of a dependent 
pro\ince. This made it seem prudent to avoid the appearance of incorporating a too ambitious 
institution of learning. In keeping with this polic\', the head of the institution was called 
its " Rector," the power to confer degrees (which would be likely to attract attention and 
awaken suspicion in England) was mentioned in very few words, as if incidentally, at the 
end of the brief Charter, and the degree itself was explained away as only a " license." 

On November 
receiving the Charter, 
Saybrook, organ- 
locate the College, 
least, in that place, 
cation, we ha\"e an 
of the importance of 
tion at that early 
ticut settlements 
the Sound and on 
River, and Saybrook, 
river, was convenient 
about as central a 
chosen. The Trus- 
of Rc\'. Abraham 
and asked him to 
from Killingworth, 
miles distant. But 
parish strongly ob- 
so he remained at 
Clinton) and his 
to receive instruc- 
ment continued until 

II, 1 70 1, soon after 
the Trustees met in 
ized, and decided to 
for the time being at 
In this choice of lo- 
interesting reminder 
\\ater communica- 
date. The Conncc- 
were placed along 
the Connecticut 
at the mouth of the 
of access to all, and 
place as could be 
tecs also made choice 
Pierson as Rector, 
remo\e to Sa\'brook 
his home, about nine 
the people of his 
jectcd to losing him, 
KillingAVorth (now 
scholars went there 
tion. This arrangc- 
his death in 1707. 

During these few years, therefore, the school was really in Killingworth, where the pupils 
were cared for by the Rector and one Tutor. But its nominal location was Sajbrook, and 
there the Commencements were held each year at the house of Rev. Mr. Buckingham, one 
of the Trustees. 

The actual work of the College began in March 1702, when one student, Jacob Heminway 
of New Haven, presented himself and was admitted a Sophomore. He constituted the under- 
graduate body of the College until the beginning of the ne.xt College year. This occurred on 
September 16, 1702. On that day Nathaniel Chauncey of Stratford, who had received private 
instruction, was given a degree which placed his name at the head of Yale graduates. Eight 
students also entered and were assigned to the ditilerent classes, and a Tutor was appointed. 

Rector Pierson died at the age of sixty-one, " leaving a reputation for good scholarship 
and wisdom as an administrator. A manuscript text-book on Natural Philosoph)- which he 




drew up was used by the students for a quarter of a centurj'." But his connection with 
the College was too brief, and the condition of the College was too unsettled, to permit of 
his making a permanent impress upon it. An interesting memorial of him is an oak chair 
kept in the College library, and used b)- the President on each Commencement da\- while 
conferring degrees. An ideal figure in bronze on the College square also fitly perpetuates 
his memory as the first Rector of Yale, and another appropriate monument stands in 
Clinton near the spot once occupied by his house, the earliest home of the College. 

The second 
tempore, was Rev. 
who followed Mr. 
by remaining at his 
Milford. Thither 
to receive his in- 
other three classc 
Sa\'brook by t\\ ■ > 
(Icr this arrangement 
of the College br 
complaint was maik 
tions, and fault wa-; 
At length the dis- 
so great that the 
the complaints ol 
passed a vote pcr- 
Sa>'bri)ok and coii- 
elsewhere. Accord- 
went to Wethers- 
I lartford interest had 
cure the removal of 
who remained in 
moved to East Guil- 
ful place. This was 
Commencement < f 
in Saybrook for tli' 
uatiiig class consisted 
sons. At no time 
Sajbrook had the 
in anyone year been 


Rector, chosen pro 
Samuel Andrew, 
Picrson's example 
home, which was in 
tile Senior Class went 
struction, while the 
were cared for in 
young Tutors. Un- 
tlic Sa_\'brook part 
came discontented, 
of liie accommoda- 
found with the Tutors, 
satisfaction became 
Trustees met, heard 
the students, and 
niitting them to leave 
tinuc tluir studies 
iiii;ly most of them 
fiLJil, whither the 
been tr)-ing to se- 
thc College. Those 
Saj'brook soon after 
ford as a more health- 
in 1 716, and the 
that year was held 
last time. The grad- 
of oiil\' three i)er- 
duiing the sta\' at 
number graduating 

greater than nine, 

and the whole number graduated, as shown by the triennial catalogue, was fifty-si.x. " At 
this Commencement the only Tutor still connected with the College resigned. Thus the 
institution was left without a single permanent officer, while the students were distributed 
through the Colony." 

This condition of affairs evidently could not last long, if the College was to survive. The 
first thing needed was to secure a favorable location, where the different parts of the College 
could be permanently united. The principal competitors for the College were New Ha\en 
and Hartford. The latter had a decided advantage in wealth and political influence, and 


endeavored to enlist the Legislature in its behalf. But New Haven had in its favor a majority 
of the Trustees, and a more enthusiastic and determined spirit among its citizens. The 
Trustees met in New Haven, October 17, 1716, and voted to establish the College in that 
place. The reasons they gave for choosing New Haven were, its convenient situation, its 
healthfulncss, the moderate cost of living there, and the fact that its citizens had subscribed 
for the College more liberally than those of any other place. 

The Trustees certainly appreciated the importance of prompt and decisive action, if 
their choice of New Haven was to stand against the strong opposition sure to come from 
Harlford. They voted to proceed " with all convenient speed " with the erection of a Col- 
lege hall and Rector's house, sent word to the scattered students that they were expected 
to come to New Ha\'en, and elected two Tutors, one of whom was Mr. Williams, who then 
had charge of the students in Wcthcrsfield. It was of course hoped that he would obey 
the summons, and would bring his students, numbering half the College, with him. But for 
a time this was not done. A few of the students also remained in Saybrook. The rest came 
to New Haven. Thus in the year 1716 a beginning, but certainly a feeble one, was made 
in New Haven. Less than half the students of the College were assembled there, and doubt 
hung over the ultimate success of the movement because of the continued opposition of 
Hartford. Those interested in having the College there (or in Wethersfield, nine miles 
south of Hartford) questioned both the legality and the fairness of the action of the Trustees 
in going to New Haven, and tried to induce the Legislature to interfere in the interest of 

The time had now come for the annual Commencement, and it was held for the first time 
in New Haven, September 11, 1717. A class of five graduated, and the whole body of stu- 
dents numbered thirty-one. Thirteen of these had studied during the year in New Haven, 
fourteen in Wethersfield, and four in Saybrook. On the fourth of October, soon after Com- 
mencement, the frame of the new College building was raised. Later in the month, when 
the Legislature met in New Haven, it appeared that the excitement over the action of the 
Trustees was unabated, and they were summoned to appear and make explanation. They 
obeyed, but their explanation did not satisfy the lower house. The latter now resolved " to 
proceed as if the matter fell within their jurisdiction, and the)' took a vote on the claims 
of different towns to ha\'e the College. Meanwhile the people of the central part of the 
Colony had agreed to concentrate their forces on an effort to obtain the College for Middle- 
town. So the result was that the vote stood for Middletown thirty-fi\-e, for New Ha\-en 
thirty-two, and for Saybrook six." 

At this critical juncture. Governor Saltonstall, a firm friend of the College, induced the 
upper house to " plant itself firmly upon the ground that the Trustees had a right to decide 
where the College should be located; that they had so decided at a legal meeting; and that 
all objections to the validity of the proceedings were frivolous." The Assembly finally voted 
"That under the present circumstances of the affairs of the Collegiate School, the re\-erend 
Trustees be advised to proceed in that affair; and to finish the house that they ha\e built in 
New Haven for the entertainment of the scholars belonging to the Collegiate School." This 
settled the matter of the location of the College, though the other side persisted, happily 
without success, in bringing the matter up again in the Legislature. A more effectual annoy- 
ance appears to have been exercised in encouraging the up-river students, now increased to 
twenty-four, to remain at Wethersfield during the College year 171 7-1 8. 



W'c now turn to tlie events wliicli led to giving tlie College the name of Vale. 

lililui Yale was the grandson of Governor liaton's second wife. His father came o\er in the 
company with Ua\enport and I'^aton, and so was one of the original settlers of New Ha\en. 
Later he mo\ed to Boston, where it is believed that Elilui was born April 5, 1649. A few years 
later the whole familj- returned to England. About 1670 Mlilui wont to India, where he became 
Governor of the East India Companj-'s settlement of Madras, and accumulated a large fortune. 
That he became interested in the Connecticut College appears to have been due to Jeremiah 
Dummer, the Colony's airent at London. I'indintj that G(i\ernor Yale was intending to estab- 

lish an endowment 
merturnetl hisatten- 
struggting young 
of his birth. Rev. 
Hoston also made 
gestion in a letter to 
his name might be 
The outcome of these 
summer of ijiSxal- 
from Governor \'al(.\ 
box of books, a por- 
( which is still prc- 
Intlia goods which 
for a little more than 
largest single gift 
had \-ct receixcd, 
arrival was especial !)• 
maile possible the 
tion of the College 
distinctly given to 
School at New Ha- 
which tended to 
of the Trustees in 
at Xcw Haven, and 
grateful to its 
time. It is not 

tion instead to the 
College in the land 
Cotton Mather of 
the important sug- 
Governor Yale that 
given to the College, 
efifortswasthat in the 
uable gifts arri\ed 
consisting of a large 
trait of tlic King 
served), and East 
were sold in Boston 
/'560. This was the 
which the College 
and the time of its 
opportune, for it 
immediate complc- 
huilding. It wa:; also 
the C o 1 1 egi a t e 
viH, a designation 
confirm the action 
locating the College 
was particularly 
friends just at that 
strange, therefore, 

that the name of euhu yale such a timcl\- bene- 

factor was bestowed upon the College, though the amount of his benefaction, inventoried 
at £200, was quite small from on(^ of his princely wealth. 

A joyous occasion was the Commencement of 1718. Hitherto the Commencements had 
been held quietly in a private dwelling. Now it was decided to have for the first time an im- 
pressive public ceremony, and the programme was accordingly carried out in the presence of 
many distinguished guests, and a large concourse of people. " Besides the Trustees, there were 
present Governor Saltonstall, Deputy-Governor Gould, sundry of the worshipful assistants, the 
judges of the circuit, and a great number of the reverend ministers. Among the guests was 
also the Hon. William Taj'lor, who appeared as the representative of Go\ernor Yale. In the 
morning the Trustees first met in the hall of the new College, and there solemnly named 


the building Yale College, to perpetuate, as was stated in a contemporary account, ' the 
memory of the Hon. Governor Yale, Esq., of London, who had granted so liberal and boun- 
tiful a donation for the perfecting and adorning of it.' Colonel Taylor then represented 
Governor Yale in a speech, and expressed great satisfaction at what he saw. After this cer- 
emony was completed, a procession was formed which passed to the churcli, and there the 
exercises of Commencement were carried on. . . . .All which ended, the gentlemen returned 
to the College hall, where they were entertained with a splendid dinner, and the ladies at 
the same time were also entertained in the library ; after which they sang the four first verses 
in the 65th psalm ; and so the da\' ended." 

The original " Yale College," so elaborately dedicated, stood at the corner of Chapel and 
College Streets, and was described in a letter written about that time as " a splendid Collegiate 
House," one hundred and seventy feet long, twenty-two feet wide, and thirty feet high. It was 
built of wood, was three stories in height, with a steep-roofed attic and dormer windows, and 
was painted blue. It contained a chapel, which was used also as a dining hall, a library, a kitchen, 
and twenty suites of rooms for students. It was the only College building until 1752. A part 
of it was taken down in 1775, and the rest in 1782. 

An unpleasant thorn on the rose of this "splendid Commencement" was the rival Com- 
mencement held on the same day at Wethersfield, where five students were given degrees in 
contemptuous indifference to the proceedings at New Haven. Another was the opposition of 
the Saybrook people to the removal of the valuable collection of College books from their town. 
Naturall}' disappointed at losing the College, they resoK'ed to hold on to the librarj-, professing 
to be ignorant of any such institution as " Yale College," b_\- which the books were claimed. 
The Governor and Council repaired to the scene of disturbance, and ordered the Sheriff to take 
possession of the books. This he did, though not without encountering much resistance from the 
populace. To move the books to New Ha\cn, it was found necessary to impress unwilling men, 
together with oxen and carts. During the night which followed this exciting day, wheels were 
taken off the carts, and bridges were broken down on the road to New Haven, and worse than 
all, about a quarter of the books with many valuable papers disappeared and were never 

Before another Commencement came around the Wethersfield secession had collapsed, and 
the connection with Saybrook had been completely severed, so that the College had secured a 
worthy home, and the New Haven people found their early hopes realized. Johnston's reflection 
in the following words was pertinent to this happy consummation: " If a College were a li\-ing 
thing, one might fancy Yale drawing a long breath of satisfaction as it struck its roots deep into 
its new soil. It had found its proper place ; New Haven would not be New Ha\en without the 
College, nor would Yale be quite Yale without New Haven." 


chai'Ti:r hi 


^1^1 lie College >-car after the first public Commencement t)pened with fair promise of success. 
J. The new building was completed, and there were forty students in attendance. i!ut 

trouble was yet in store for the still struggling College. The Wethersfield students after com- 

in<T to New Haven were greatly dissatisfied, and, it is said, " made all the mischief they could." 

A prominent 

plaint appears to 

Icgcd " insufli- 

the two Tutors 

the College while 

111 a i n e d at his 

The discontented 

New Haven but a 

then returned to 

This called gcn- 

tlie ileficient or- 

College, and soon 

tion of a new Rec- 

livc in New I la- 

himself entirely to 

person chosen 

Cutler, who grad- 

in 1 70 1. He was 
reputation as an 
and a scholar, bc- 
well versed in the 
ental languages, 
fluently in Latin, 
mcnt which was 
teemed. He was 
in theologj' and 
tor\'. He was 





K i "^ 



«c r^^E 


■^•^T,.- ,- 



ground of com- 
have been the al- 
ciency" of one of 
who were running 
the Rector re- 
honie in ]\Iilford. 
students were in 
short time, and 
Wet h e rsfield. 
eral attention to 
ganization of the 
led to the elec- 
tor who .should 
\\n and de\(>te 
the College. The 
was Re\.Timoth\' 
uated at Ilarxard 
.1 man tif high 
eloqixnt preacher 
ing particularly 
classical and ori- 
He could speak 
an accom])lish- 
then highl}' es- 
also well informed 
ecclesiastical his- 
moreover a man 

of commanding presence, with excellent ability as an administrator. He came to New Haven 
promptly- on his election, and soon straightened out matters in the College. It now ap- 
peared as if the right man for the place had been found, who would guide the College to a 
condition of prosperity. 

But clouds soon began to gather. In the summer of 1722, it was rumored that Rector 
Cutler and other Connecticut clerg)men were about to renounce the Congregational faith, and 
embrace Episcopacy. For the purpose of quieting these rumors, the Trustees of the College 
after Commencement invited the Rector and his friends to a conference, where it was supposed 
that their loyalty to Congregationalism would be made apparent. To the dismay of the Trus- 


tees it was found that the Rector and others had already decided to apply for Episcopal ordi- 
nation. Concerning this, President W'oolsey has said, " I suppose that greater alarm would 
scarcely be awakened now if the Theological Faculty of the College were to declare for the 
Church of Rome, a\ow their belief in transubstantiation, and pray to the Virgin Mary." We 
need not be surprised at this when we remember that the fathers of New England had endured 
exile and braved the terrors of the wilderness to escape the tyrannical English Church of the 
seventeenth century. Such memories endured. Episcopacy was still dreaded, and now some 
of the most trusted and honored men in Connecticut were proposing to go over to the enemy. 
There was not at that time a single Episcopal church or clergjman in New England. " F"ears 
were very naturally excited, that the introduction of Episcopal worship into the Colony would 
give the English Church and government a dangerous influence in its concerns ; that religious 
and ci\il !ibert\- would be greatly abridged, and the great object of the settlement of New 
luigland be thus partially or wholly defeated." Hoping still to avert the calamit)-. Governor 
Saltonstall arranged for a second conference, which was held in the College Library. But no 
good came from it, and the Trustees soon after voted to excuse the Rector from further 
ser\ice, and to accept the resignation of Tutor Browne. These two gentlemen accordingly 
withdrew from the College, and went to England, where they were ordained by the Bishop 
of Norwich. Mr. Cutler returned to this countrj' and was for many years Rector of Christ 
Church in Boston. He appears to have entertained exaggerated hopes of his ability to 
bring a large part of New England over to Episcopac}-. Rev. Samuel Johnson of West 
Haven, one of the seceders, a graduate and formerly a Tutor of the College, was afterward 
the first President of Kings (now Columbia) College. 

Rector Cutler's short term of office was made memorable by the graduation, in 1720, of 
Yale's most eminent son, Jonathan Edwards. He entered College at the time of the decision 
to move from Saybrook to New Haven, and was one of those who went to Wethersficld. There 
he received most of his College training, coming to New Haven in June ijig, after the election 
of Rector Cutler. It is pleasant to read his tribute to the efficiency of the instruction under the 
new management. He wrote, " I take very great content under m\' present tuition, as all the 
rest of the scholars seem to do." 

Concerning the action of the Trustees in deposing otherwise competent College officers 
solely because they had become Episcopalians, it must be regarded as necessary and proper at 
the time, in view of the intimate relations of the College to the Congregational churches. This 
view is supported by the attitude of Mr. Cutler, Mr. Johnson, and others most intimately con- 
cerned in the movement to Episcopacy. They appear to have retained their interest in the 
College, without harboring any feeling of ill-will or sense of injury. Mr. Johnson in particular 
was always loyal to his Alma Mater, and was the means of obtaining important benefit for it. 

This flurry in the affairs of the College led to certain modifications in its constitution. 
Obviously it was important to provide some safeguard against a recurrence of such an un- 
pleasant experience. Accordingly, the Trustees adopted a resolution requiring that thereafter 
all persons chosen to the office of Rector or Tutor m:ist give formal assent to the Saybrook 
platform, and must also give further satisfactory evidence of being well grounded in the Con- 
gregational faith and polity. This requirement remained in force until 1823. It had also 
become evident that the original charter was defective in its omission of certain details con- 
cerning the legal organization and powers of the Trustees. Accordingly in 1723, the Colonial 
Assembly passed " An Act in E.xplanation of and Addition to, the Act for Erecting a Collegiate 



School." l?y this Act, amoiifj otlicr things, tlic Rector was made ex officio a Trustee. This 
provision was an important one, as bearing on tlie well-known requirement, so much discussed 
in recent years, that the I'residcnl of the College must be a minister residing in Connecticut. 
The first charter provided that the Trustees should be " ministers of the gospel inhabiting 
within the Colons, " and when the President was made a Trustee, he was held to come under 
that provision. 

On the withdrawal of Rector Cutler in 1722, the Rectorshi]) was put "in commission," 
the Trustees agreeing to reside in New llaxcn in turn, one month at a time, and manage the 

College. This awk- 
])roved unsatisfac- 
becn expected, but 
because of the diffi- 
one who was willing 
which had gone un- 
sult of Rector Cut- 
S e \' e r al m e n 
the place declined 
1726. Rev. Klisha 
ton, near 1 lartford, 
accepted, and at 
Haven. He was the 
before had taken 
d e n t s \\ h o w e n t 
W'ethersfield, and 
come to \ew Has'en 
Tutor in 1718. He 
fications for his new 
versed in the clas- 
atcd the importance 
tor\'. President 
wrote of him, " 1 le 
dor. He spoke Latin 
orations gracefully 


ward arrangement 
tory, as might have 
it was con ti nued 
cult>-of finding any 
to accept a place 
der a cloud as a re- 
ler's performance, 
who were chosen for 
it. At length, in 
Williams of Newing- 
was elected and 
once moved to \cw 
one who ten years 
charge of the stu- 
frcmi .Saybrook to 
had declined to 
when a])pointed 
had marked (juali- 
dutics. He was well 
sics, and appreci- 
of rhetoric and ora- 
Stiles afterward 
was a man of splen- 
freel)', and cleli\'ered 
and with animated 

dignity." His personal influence upon the students was strong and beneficent, and he 
repressed the disorders which hail crejit in during the inter-regnum. 

During his administration the College was enriched by gifts from Dean Berkeley, who 
had resided for a while at Newport, and formed the acquaintance of one of the Trustees. 
After the Dean's return to England, he gave the College his farm near Newport for the pur- 
pose of establishing the " Berkeley premiums." He also sent over nearly a thousand volumes 
for the College Library, which President Clap later pronounced " the finest collection of books 
that ever came together at one time into America." Rector Williams found the climate of New 
Haven unfavorable to his health, and possibly his duties at the College were not entirely con- 
genial, for he was fond of a more active life. He resigned in 1739, and not long after entered 
the Legislature, where he was chosen Speaker. In 1745, he joined the expedition which cap- 
tured Louisburg, and w-as afterward made a Colonel. 


At the close of Rector Williams's administration the College was fairly prosperous. The 
jealousies connected with the removal from Saybrook had died awa)', and the College was 
now firmly planted in New Haven. The graduating class in 1739 was small, but classes had 
previously risen to twenty-four, and the whole number of graduates was nearly four hundred. 
These were scattered through the Colon)-, man)- of them in influential positions, and they 
brought strength and importance to the College. The feeling of distrust attached to it, and 
particularly to the Rectorship, on account of Mr. Cutler's defection, had been efl'aced b)- time, 
and by the dignity and wisdom with which Rector Williams had presided. The permanence of 
the College may now be considered as assured. It had outlived the days of infancy, and was 
now recognized as one of the most important institutions in the Colony. A good foundation 
had been laid, and it remained for the next Rector to build up the College with an adequate 
realization of its great possibilities. 

The Administration of President Clap 

THE resignation of Rector Williams had been expected for some time before it 
occurred, and the inter\-al had been well employed in selecting his successor. 
Thus on the \ery day when his term of office closed, the Corporation elected Rev. 
Thomas Clap, who graduated at Harvard in 1722, and his long and e\entful career at 
the head of the College proved the wisdom of their choice. For six years he was 
"Rector" of the "Collegiate School," then for twenty-one )-ears "President of Yale 
College," a change of title and legal name of the College having been made in 1745. 

President Clap " was one of the most learned men in the Colon)-. He was well 
acquainted with the whole range of academical studies, and was known to have paid 
unusual attention to the different branches of the pure mathematics and astronomy. He 
had uncommon qualifications for the transaction of business. He had great energy of 
character, and even a superabundance of that qualit)- which, in the forcible language of 
New England, is best known as ' back-bone.' " 

He had abundant opportunity for the exercise of his strong qualities during the 
troublous times upon which the Colonies were entering. In addition to the wars with 
Spain and France and their attendant disorders, were the religious controversies of the 
period. The ice-gorge of formalism which had been accumulating for many years in 
New England was alread)- breaking up in the revival known as " The Great Awakening," 
when Whitefield came o\er from England and increased the religious excitement b)- 
his wonderful eloquence. He came to New Ha\en in 1740, remained three days, and 
addressed great crowds. He was followed b)- reckless imitators who preached violent 
sermons, denouncing the clergy and provoking schism. Laws were enacted against these 
" New Lights," and attendance of students upon their preaching was forbidden. For 
disregarding this prohibition, three students, the two Cleaveland brothers and David 
Brainerd, were expelled, the offence of the latter being aggravated b\- a disparaging 
remark which he made about the piety of one of the Tutors. Such an exercise of Col- 


lege authority at the present da\-, supposini,' it to be possible, would of course produce 
an uproar. Kveii then, although not very much out of kecpin^^ with the cxislin<; union 
of Church and State, it was se\crel>- criticised and brought some unpleasant consequences 
to the College in its train. 

l{.it for the time being, the strong partisanship of President Clap as shown in tlicsc 
matters, agreeing as it did with the views of the political majoritv", brought him into 
great favor with the Legislature. An imi)ortant result of this was the enactment of a 
new Charter for the College of 1745, which was drafted by President Clap, and accepted 
without change. This Charter extended to the institution the name " Vale College," 
which hitherto had belonged only to the building completed by Governor Vale's b<iunt\-. 
It conferred ample powers of management upon the " President and P'ellows " who were 
to constitute the governing board, or " Corporation," and these essential provisions remain 
unchanged to the present da\-. 

The College had already felt the acKantage of an organizing mind in its internal 
arrangements. One of the earlier acts of President Clap had been to give greater 
definiteness to the College laws. He reduced them to svstem, and after the>- had been 
approved by the Corporation, published them in Latin. He also broadened the curri- 
culum b\- giving increased attention to Mathematics and Natural I'hilosoph)-. Interest in 
the latter quickened by the electrical experiments and discoveries of Ik-njamin 
Franklin, who presented the College with an electrical machine in 1749, and visited 
it in 1755. The teaching force of the College was also enlargctl b\- the addition of a 
third Tutor. There were now the President for the Seniors, and one Tutor for each class 
below. The jiractice then commenced, and prevailed for more than half a centur\-, of 
leaving each class in charge of a single instructor, who taught the various subjects 
taken up during the year. The President also presided at exercises on two dajs of the 
week when the Juniors and Seniors " disputed " on \arious subjects. At these exercises 
his efifort was to quicken an intelligent interest in important questions, and to improve the 
literary style of the students. " He began also to give public lectures ujjon those sub- 
jects which are necessarj- to be understood to qualify young gentlemen for the \arious 
stations and employments of life — such as the nature of ci\il government, the civil con- 
stitution of Great Britain, the various kinds of courts, and the several forms of ecclesi- 
astical government which have obtained in the Christian Church." 

The middle vxar of the century was signalized by the la)ing of the corner-stone of 
a new College building, the present venerable South Middle. The fact that a second 
building was needed is no small tribute to the abilities of President Clap. During the 
years since 1739, the Colony had been weakened, and its treasury' had been depleted, 
by the Spanish and French wars, and it had .nlso been distracted by religious strife in 
which the College had become involved as already indicated. "\'et during these vxars the 
President had succeeded in commanding the respect and winning the confidence of the 
community to such an extent that the College had steadily outgrown its accommodations, 
and half the students had to occupy rooms scattered about the town. \o less marked 
was his success in getting the money needed for the new building. His influence 
with the Legislature in 1745 has been noted. It again came into play in 1747, when he 
obtained legislative sanction for a lottery, and later grants to the amount of £64-},. The 
building was finished in 1752, and at the Commencement of that vear it was dedicated 



with appropriate ceremonies. Tiic President and Fellows walked into the building in 
procession, and the College Beadle made announcement in Latin as follows: — "Whereas, 
through the favor of Divine Providence, this new College house has been built by the 
munificence of the Colony of Connecticut ; in perpetual commemoration of so great 
generosity, this neat and decent building shall be called 'Connecticut Hall.'" 

In the following )ear, 1753, a most important step was taken. This was none other 
than the establishment of a separate College church. Hitherto the College had formed 
part of the First Church congregation, the students occupying scats in the gallery. 
This was more than a matter of convenience, for the College was within the jurisdiction 
of the First Church parish as established by law, and its presence and support were 


claimed as a matter of right. But it involved the College in the controversy between 
the Old and the New Lights, which was semi-political on account of the close con- 
nection of Church and State. As this was evidently becoming an injur>- to the 
College, and as the preaching which the students were obliged to hear was not satis- 
factor}', the College withdrew from the church, and established worship for itself in the 
Chapel. There was great excitement o\cr this, with threats of resort to law for redress, 
but the President convincingl\- showed from English history (and of course all were 
Englishmen then) that a College corporation was sufficiently ecclesiastical in its nature 
to entitle it to separate religious services as a matter of right. 

The wa_\- had been prepared for this important step b_\- the foundation of a Pro- 
fessorship of Divinit)-. After much dcla\- in filling it, Re\-. Xaphtali Daggett was chosen, 


and entered upon his duties, the first Professor in the history of the College, on March 3, 
1756. In the next year a College church was regularly organized at the request of the 
Faculty aiul those of the students who were church members. About the same time 
also President Clap gave the College a piece of land on York Street, on part of which 
the Moiiicat College now stands, and on it a house was built for the Professor of 
Di\inil\-. ;\ few }ears later, namel)-, in 1761, the building of a new Chapel was 
commenced. It was completed in 1763, and contained in an upper story accommo- 
dations for the Librar_\-. Jl continued to be used as Chapel and Library until 1824. 
Then the interior was divided up into recitation-rooms, and the steeple was removed 
and replaced by a cupola which did service as an observator)-. Thus remodelled, the 
building was known as the Atheneum ujitil it was removed in 1893 to make room for Van- 
derbilt Hall. 

President Clap's plan of having a separate church for the College was now crowned 
with complete success, and was of the utmost value to the College, giving it an inde- 
pendent religious life which has profoundly influenced its subsequent development. But the 
result to the President himself was serious. The staunch " Old Lights " never forgave him 
for his desertion of their part)', and they were able to make his closing years most uncom- 
fortable. One of their schemes was to establish the theory that the Assembly of 1701, which 
granted the Charter, was the true founder of the College, whence it would follow that the 
right to control the College had dev(>l\ed upon succeeding Legislatures, rather than upon 
the successors of the first Trustees. On this theor)' it was hoped that a system of legislative 
visitation could be established which would transfer the management of the College from 
the Corporation to a Committee of the Legislature, or to the Governor and Council. Some 
of the ablest lawyers in the Colony were engaged in establishing this \iew. President Clap 
met them single-handed, ami proved conclusively from I-^nglish law and precedent that the 
clergymen meeting in Branford in 17CX5, were the real founders of the College, to which the 
Legislature had subsequently given a legal standing. Chancellor Kent in 1834, speaking of 
the Legislature's claim and its refutation, said tliat President Clap " opposed this pretension 
in a counter-memorial and argument, drawn boldl}-, and with the confidence of a master, 
from his own mental resources. He groimded himself upon English authorities in the 
true stj'le of a well-read lawyer. . . . An argument of such solidity reminds us of the 
powerful di.scussions in the celebrated case of Dartmouth College, in which the same 
doctrines were advanced and sustained by the decision of the Supreme Court of the United 

President Clap's triumph was complete. But his enemies did not desist from their 
persecution. Indeed, they turned his victory against him, claiming that the College, by 
his own showing, was too independent of the ci\il authority, and hence was an object 
of suspicion. The students were incited to insubordination, some left and went home, 
the Tutors resigned, and the College to which he had devoted the best years of his 
life appeared to be falling to pieces about his head. He resigned, and died a few 
months after. 

President Clap had the defects of his strongest qualities. His clear-sightedness in 
matters of legal right, his well-grounded confidence in himself, and his determination to 
accomplish what he believed the good of the College required, were the qualities which 
made his administration a great success. But they also made him appear dictatorial, 


and won him much ill-will. This has long since been effaced by time. Wc now think 
of him gratefully for his sturdy devotion to the College, and surely " for untiring zeal 
and disinterestedness in laboring for the advancement of what he thought to be the 
best interests of the College, there is no one in the whole line of Presidents more worthy 
of grateful remembrance of the Alumni than President Clap." 

Yale in the Revolution 

THE Stamp Act disturbance came almost at the close of President Clap's career at 
Yale. In the unsettled condition of affairs, the man desired as his successor could 
not be obtained, and Dr. Daggett, the Professor of Divinity, was asked to take charge 
of the College for the time being. A bright saying of Dr. Daggett's in connection with 
this appointment has been preserved. When asked by some one, possibly -with a mis- 
chievous desire to find a joint in his armor, whether it were true that he was only Presi- 
dent /ra tempore, he is said to have replied, "Certainly; would you have me President /w 
ei emit ate ? " 

During eleven eventful years he presided over the destinies of tlie College, beginning with 
the year of the repeal of the Stamp Act, and ending with the year after the Declaration of 
Independence. Most of these were years of great political excitement prior to the actual 
breaking out of the war. Questions concerning the constitutional relations of the Colonies to 
the Crown and to Parliament, and the fundamental rights of Englishmen beyond the seas, 
were everywhere discussed. Dr. Daggett took a deep interest in these questions, and was 
a sturdy champion of colonial rights. He was also in sympathy with the democratic spirit of 
the period, as he showed at the close of the first year of his administration, when he for the 
first time arranged the names of the students in the several class-lists in alphabetical order. 
Hitherto the practice had been to arrange the names according to the social consequence of the 
student's parents, very much as families were seated in the meeting-house during the first cen- 
tury of New England colonial life. The Yale Triennial Catalogue shows this arrangement down 
to the year 1767. It is related that one bright lad, son of a shoemaker, secured a coveted 
place high up on the list among the sons of Judges, by gravely announcing that his father was 
on the bench ! 

Dr. Daggett was a successful preacher, and filled his Professorship well. But he was out of 
his element at the head of the College, and he and the students knew it. He gave his atten- 
tion mainly to the duties of his chair, and left the management of the College largely to the 
Tutors. Hence the measure of success which attended his administration was largel)- due to the 
remarkable body of young men who were then ser\ing as Tutors. One of these was Timothy 
Dwight, afterward one of the greatest of Yale's Presidents. Others were Hon. John Trumbull ; 
Hon. S. M. Mitchell ; Rev. Dr. Strong of Hartford ; and Hon. John Davenport, for many years 
a member of Congress from Connecticut. The College could not but prosper on its scholastic 
VOL. I. — 16 


side under the instruction of such men. Under the influence and lead of Dwight and Trum- 
bull in particular, a new love of literature was awakened in the students, who were eager for 
a broader culture than was furnished by the course of study. An interesting proof of this is 
found in the following minute in the records of the Corporation: "Upon application made to 
this Hoard by Mr. Dwight, one of the Tutors, at the desire of the present Senior class, request- 
ing that they might be permitted to hire the said Mr. Dwight to instruct them the current 
year in rhetoric, history, and the belles lettres: Upon considering the motion, the Cor- 
poration being willing to encourage the improvement of the j-outh in those branches of 
polite literature, do comply with their request, provided it ma)- be done with the appro- 
bation of the parents or guardians of the said class." This was in '76, shortly after the 
Declaration of Independence, and attention is now properly turned to Yale's record in the 
Rcvolutionar)- War. 

First, as to the clTect of the war upon the College as a whole. The disturbed relations 
with Great Britain, even before the war began, had been very injurious to New Haven's ship- 
ping interests, upon which the business of the place largel)' depended. When therefore the war 
came on, business was prett\- much at a standstill, and communication with distant places was 
difficult. Under these circumstances, the question of food supply became a serious one, and 
presently the College broke up, as much apparently to escape short rations as for any other 
reason. Accordingly in the spring of 1777, the Corporation assigning this as the reason, made 
arrangements for locating the Freshmen in Farmington (not then as attractive as it has since 
become), the Sophomores and Juniors in Glastonbury, and the Seniors in such place as Tutor 
Dwight, who was to ha\e them under his especial care, might select. There was no public 
Commencement in 1777, nor in the following years until 178 1, shortly before the surrender of 
Cornwallis, which practically closed the war. During most of these years however the College 
was back in New Haven, with classes at times depleted b)- the numbers who went to the war 
or were kept away by it, and again increased b)' those whose parents desired a good excuse 
for not letting them enter the army. 

B\' far the most exciting episode of the war, as far as the College was concerned, was the 
capture of New Haven by the British on the fifth of July 1779. During the preceding night, 
a British fleet of about forty-eight ships, with three thousand soldiers on board, anchored off 
Savin Rock. As soon as it was light enough in the morning, President Stiles climbed the stairs 
of the Chapel tower (Atheneum), and with a spy-glass watched the movements of the enemy, 
which he reported to those below. Preparations were at once made for presenting a bold 
front, and dela\-ing the enemy, for nothing more than that was possible. New Haven was 
then a town of about four hundred and fifty houses with a population not much if any over 
three thousand, and the College contained about one hundred and fifty students. These figures 
are not exact, as a complete census of the town was not taken until 1787; but it is certain that 
the whole number of males capable of bearing arms was much less than the attacking force of 
the British. Citizens and students readily volunteered, and were hastily organized in two 
companies. One of these was under the command of James Hillhouse, Yale 'j^, then Captain 
of the Governor's Foot Guards, and afterward for fifty years Treasurer of the College. The 
other company was led by no less a personage than Colonel Aaron Burr, afterwards Vice-Presi- 
dent of the United States, then a young man of twenty-three, who happened to be visiting 
friends in New Haven. 

They went along the Milford road, now Davenport Avenue, to the bridge over the West River, 


then southward on the other side to meet the British, who were coming up from Savin Rock. 
When the two forces approached each other, shots were exchanged, then the volunteers, who 
were greatly outnumbered, retreated to the home side of the bridge, which they lost no time 
in destroying. There was one College man however who remained on the exposed side of the 
river, and that was Dr. Daggett. There was no retreat in him. During the march the student 
volunteers had been surprised, and very likely amused, at seeing their venerable Professor and 
former President riding past on his black horse, with his fowling-piece in his hand, and a look 
of stern determination on his face. Taking up his position at the point where the Milford 
road begins to ascend the hill, he waited there till the bridge was destroyed, then alone and 
wholly at the mercj^ of the enemy he opened fire on the advancing British. Of course he was 
quickly captured. "You old fool, what are you doing here, firing on his Majesty's soldiers?" 
asked the British officer. " Exercising the rights of war," was the answer. The officer, taking 
in the ludicrous side of the situation, offered to let him go if he would promise not to repeat 
his offence ; but this the sturdy old patriot refused to do. So he was obliged to march at the 
head of the column, in the heat of the day, until the invaders reached the Green in the heart 
of the town, by the round about way of West\ille. By this time he was pretty much used up, 
and was permitted to withdraw to the house of a friend, it is said at the intercession of a Tory 
who had been one of his pupils. His death, which occurred not long after, was doubtless 
hastened by the hardships of his forced march, during which his captors were by no means 
gentle in their treatment of him. 

The British reached the Green about noon and remained until earl)' the next morning, 
when they departed by way of East Haven, where a part of their army had landed the day 
before. Little damage was done to the town. The College buildings were not touched. New 
Haveners naturally like to believe that General Garth, in command of the invading column, 
staid the hands of his soldiers with the remark that the town was " too pretty to burn." But 
the more probable reason for his forbearance was that the whole country around was arming 
so rapidly that he was in a hurry to get away ; and furthermore he thought it prudent not to 
exasperate the people by too much wanton destruction. While in New Haven the soldiers 
occupied their time looting the houses of well-known " rebels." A house standing on ground 
now occupied by the Sheffield Scientific School was the scene of one of these pillaging attacks, 
as was also the house standing on the site of the present Universit)' Club House. Another 
was the house of Mrs. W'ooster, President Clap's daughter. From this the soldiers carried 
off a box containing President Clap's papers, and these were never recovered. This was a 
serious loss, for President Clap had left in writing important information concerning the Col- 
lege which cannot be obtained from any other source. 

Turning now from local incidents to Yale's wider participation in the Revolutionarj' struggle, 
we find a most honorable record. At Bunker Hill, Long Island, White Plains, Saratoga, Valley 
Forge, Monmouth, Stony Point, Yorktown and other historic places dear to those who cherish 
the memory of our Revolutionarj- fathers, Yale graduates were at the front in every grade of 
the service from General to private. There is of course room here for mention by name of only 
some of those whose careers were especially noteworthy. The figures following the names give 
the year of graduation. 

At the very opening of the war, John Patterson, '62, appeared on the day of Lexington. 
He served through the war, first as a Colonel of Massachusetts Provincials, aftenvard a Briga- 
dier-General in the Continental Line. At Bunker Hill Lieutenant Grosvener, '65, was wounded, 


and lost one third of his company. Ho appears " conspicuously at the front" in Trumbull's 
paintinti of the battle. He served throus,di the war under Washington. Captain Coit, '6i, 
Lieutenant Gray, '6},, Captain Chester, '66, and Private Heart, '68, were also in the thick of 
the fight •' at the rail and grass fence where the longest stand was made." Heart served 
through the war, and lived to be a Major in the United States Army in 1791, when he was 
killed while charging the Indians on the day of St. Clair's defeat. 

We are not full}' informed of the effect produced at Vale b)' the news from Lexington or 
Bunker Hill, but the patriotic enthusiasm must have been comparable with that awakened many 
years after by the news from Sumter. The students formed a military compan)-, and had the 
superlative happiness of being reviewed and praised by Washington himself, who stopped over 
night in New Haven on his way to Cambridge to assume command of the Continental Army. 
When he left in the morning the enthusiastic students escorted him out of town, and this was 
the first time, Noah Webster tells us, that this mark of honor was gi\en him in New England. 
The future lexicographer, who was then a Freshman, adds, " It fell to my humble lot to lead 
tiiis compan)' with music." 

After the Battle of Bunker Hill nian\- if not most of the Yale men in the service were in 
that part of the army which was under Washington's immediate command. This was j^artly 
because of the promptness with which they enlisted. When Washington conducted the Siege 
of Boston, and a little later the operations around New York, the Yale men were already in his 
army. They remained in it, and their names constantly recur in the accounts of the engage- 
ments at which Washington was present. At the Siege of Boston at least fifteen of his officers 
were Yale graduates from the Classes of '58 to '75. Most of these also took part in the opera- 
tions around New York, together with others, in all at least thirty-two officers, among whom 
were General Scott, '46, commanding four New York regiments, and General Wadsworth, '48, 
commanding four Connecticut regiments whose Colonels were Silliman, '52, Bradley, '58, 
Gay, '59, and Chester, '66. In the battles of Trenton and Princeton, Yale officers took a con- 
spicuous part. At the latter engagement, the fa\orable turn of the battle at a critical moment 
was secured by Colonel Hitchcock, '61. After it was over, Washington, in presence of the 
army, took him b_\- the hand in front of Nassau Hall, Princeton's historic building, and thanked 
him for his gallant service during the day. 

When Burgoync came down from Canada, volunteers from Connecticut hastened to meet 
him, and among them we find some famous Yale names. First was General Oliver Wolcott, 
one of Yale's four signers of the Declaration of Independence, and one of the most influential 
men in Connecticut in the cause of independence. With him to the front went Noah Webster, 
'78, then a Senior in College, afterward the maker of the famous dictionary that bears his name. 
John Patterson, '62, formerly at Lexington, now a Brigadier-General in the Continental Army, 
was also there. So too was Colonel John Brown, '71, one of the early promoters of the Revolu- 
tionary cause in Massachusetts. He was present at Ethan Allen's capture of Ticonderoga, 
and afterward took part in the Canada campaign, where he was one of Montgomerj's trusted 
officers in the attack on Quebec. In the decisive campaign ending at Saratoga, Colonel Brown 
was the officer chosen by General Lincoln to lead a detachment of five hundred men to 
operate in Burgo,\-ne's rear. This he did most effectively, contributing materially to the final 
defeat of the British. 

Mention should also be made of General Wooster, '38, a leading citizen of New Haven 
Major-General of the Connecticut Militia, and Brigadier-General in the Continental Army, a 


veteran of the Old French War, who fell while defending Danbury in 1777. Also of Major 
Wyllis, '"Jl, who " was in the leading battalion that stormed one of the Yorktown redoubts," and 
after the war was Major of the First United States regiment and fell, with fifty out of sixty 
regulars he had with him, in Harmer's Indian defeat in Ohio, 1790." 

Many more might be mentioned equally brave and patriotic with those who have been 
named. The names of one hundred and ninety-six Yale graduates who took part in the war 
are known, and there are supposed to have been about forty more whose devotion to their 
country's cause has not been made matter of individual record. 

One name however can never be omitted from the roll of Yale's Revolutionary heroes, 
that of Nathan Hale of the Class of '73. His story has often been told. After the Battle of 
Long Island, Washington needed information of the enemy which could be obtained only by 
a spy. He called for some one to perform the dangerous service, and Captain Hale volun- 
teered. Of noble character and refined and sensitive nature, he was as far removed as possible 
from the ordinary spy, who is attracted by hope of reward or love of adventure. It is certain 
that he was influenced only by the loftiest motives of patriotism in accepting a task naturally 
repulsive to him, but transmuted into noblest service by what he believed was his country's 
call. He obtained the desired information, and had almost reached the point of safety on his 
return, when an unfortunate mistake of his own, and the treachery of a Tory relative, revealed 
his mission to the British. He was promptly hung, calmly saying at the last that his only 
regret was that he had but one life to give for his countr\-. On the roll of his regiment he was 
honored with the record of a soldier's death, "Captain Nathan Hale, /C'/Z/tv/ September 20, 1776." 
A worthy monument to his memory has been erected on the reputed spot of his execution, in 
City Hall Park, New York. It is the bronze figure of a noble youth, pinioned for execution, 
and calmly awaiting death, his last words e.xpressive of his und\'ing lo\-e for his countr\- in- 
scribed on the pedestal below. One other monument, let us hope, remains to be raised. In 
the near future, when the Old Brick Row at Yale has been removed, and the adornment of the 
interior court of the beautiful quadrangle is taken in hand, a place ought surely to be found for 
a figure of Yale's martyr-patriot. 

Administration of President Stiles 

THE term of Dr. Daggett as President pro tern, came to an end in 1777, when he 
refused to discharge the duties of the place any longer, and fell back upon his 
Professorship alone. One source of trouble had come down to him from the masterful rule of 
President Clap. Under his guidance the Corporation in 1753, had passed a test act with 
stringent provisions for ensuring the orthodoxy of all connected with the teaching force 
of the College. This act was severely criticised at the time, and its unpopularity did not 
wear off. 

Another thing that was remembered to the detriment of the College was that President 
Clap had proved it to be beyond the control of the Legislature. Partly because of this, and 



partly on account of the stringency of war times, pecuniary' help, which had hitherto been given 
to the College by the State, was now refused. Hence owing to a combination of circumstances 
the College was in rather a bad way in the fail of 1777. The students were few in number, 
only one hundred and thirty-two in all, and had been scattered on account of the lack of food 
in Xew Has-en. The general apprehension over the approach of liurgojne from the north 
added also to the uncertainty of the immediate future. More serious than that and the dis- 
affection of the students were the alienation of many influential men in tiic coinnuinity, and 
the hostile attitude of the State. So strong had the feeling against the College become that 

the matter of es- 
institution had 

Kvidently the 
man of peculiar 
emergency, and 
a man was found 
Rev. ICzra Stiles, 
Rhode Island, 
son of a promi- 
clergyman. He 
\'ale in the Class 
of nineteen, and 
tor for six years, 
a call to a Con- 
in Newport, and V^':^ 
ate of twent\--two 
quired the repu- 
the most learned 

In view of the 
College, it was not 
that such an emi- 
hastily accept the 
rehabilitating it. 
proper apprecia- 
worth, and made 
strong desire to 
stipulating for 


tablishing a rival 
been considered. 
College needed a 
gifts to meet the 
fortunately such 
in the person of 
D.D., of Newport, 
Dr. Stiles was the 
nent Connecticut 
had graduated at 
of '46 at the age 
afterward was Tu- 
In 1755, he accepted 
gregational church 
during his pastor- 
years "he had ac- 
tation of being 
man in ^America." 
condition of the 
to be expected 
nent man would 
difficult task of 
He showed a 
tion of his own 
a wise use of the 
secure him, by 
certain changes 

which would put the College on a more liberal basis, and would be of lasting benefit to it. 
The most important of these were that the religious test of 1753 should be repealed at once, 
that the permanent chairs of instruction should be increased as soon as possible, and that 
earnest efforts should be made to bring about a better understanding between the State and 
the College. 

He came to Xew Haven to confer with the Corporation, and they acceded to his wishes. 
He also met prominent citizens who assured him of their support. A further encouragement 
was found in the wa\' in which his election to the Presidency had been received throughout the 
State. Satisfaction yas expressed by the steadfast friends of the College, also by those who had 
been alienated by the unpopular measures of President Clap's administration. 


President Stiles accepted and was inducted into office July 8, 1778. His inaugural address 
was in Latin, and had for its subject " The Encyclopedia of Literature." A feature of interest 
to those present was his taking the oath of fidelity " to the State of Connecticut as a free and 
independent State." Of more curious interest to us was the way in which his salary was to be 
paid, throwing light as it does on the unsettled state of the currency at that time. He was to 
receive an annual salary of one hundred and sixty pounds, " one quarter to be paid in wheat 
at four shillings and sixpence per bushel, one quarter in corn at two shillings and threepence 
per bushel, one quarter in pork at twenty-four shillings per hundred weight, and the other quar- 
ter in beef at eighteen shillings per hundred weight; or an equivalent in money, to be deter- 
mined annually by the President and Fellows according to the current prices in New Haven, 
viz., of pork and beef in December, and of wheat and Indian corn in Januar}\" 

Dr. Stiles was a moderate CaUinist, and was loyal to the Congregationalist polity. But 
he was not a religious partisan. His extensive learning had broadened a naturally fair and 
catholic mind, and he could see and frankly admit the good there was in other forms of belief 
than his own. He was accordingly well qualified to win back to the support of the College 
those who had been dri\en awa\- b}- former theological asperities. To accomplish this he had, 
as before stated, secured the repeal of the test of 1753, and this conciliatory measure, followed 
up as it was by his own cordial attitude, produced the most happy results in the reunited sup- 
port of the prevailing religious sentiment of the community. Furthermore, his character, his 
attainments, and his personal dignity were calculated to produce a most favorable impression 
on the undergraduates, so that he was able before long to correct the internal evils in the 
College which had resulted from the demoralization of the few preceding years. 

When President Stiles entered upon the duties of his office, there were two Professorships 
at the College. One was the Professorship of Divinity, established in 1755, and filled by Dr. 
Daggett ; the other was the Professorship of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy, established 
in 1770, and filled by Rev. Nathaniel Strong. Both these chairs became vacant early in the 
new President's term. Dr. Daggett died in 1780, partly as a result of his patriotic ardor at the 
time of the capture of New Haven. Professor Strong resigned in 1781, because of an opposite 
attitude toward public events. He was a pronounced loyalist, and this made him unpopular 
in the College, and unwilling to put up with the temporary sacrifice of salary which the war 
made necessary. Thus deprived of his two most important assistants. President Stiles dis- 
charged the duties of both the \acant chairs. He was also Professor of Ecclesiastical History, 
having received that appointment at his own request when he was made President. The Chair 
of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy was not filled by a new appointment for thirteen years, 
during which time President Stiles gave instruction in those branches. That he was able to do 
this acceptabh* is a significant indication of the range of his acquirements, although of course 
the demands in those departments of instruction were incomparably less exacting then than 
they are at the present day. 

In thus filling the places of President and three Professors at the same time during the 
greater part of his term, Dr. Stiles not only gave proof of his versatility, but also of his devotion 
to the college. On coming to Yale it was a part of his plan to increase the teaching force of 
the institution. But instead of an increase there was a falling off, and nothing but his deter- 
mined and self-sacrificing spirit prevented a serious crippling of the College. The inability 
to expand resulted partly from the condition of public affairs. The uncertain years of the war 
to 17S1, had been followed by the dismal years of the Confederacy, during which the practi- 



cally independent States were gropiny their way through a chaos of commercial jealousies to 
a more perfect union which would make prosperity possible. But during all this time, and 
for several years after, the main obstacle to the suitable equipment of the College was the 
unfriendly attitude of the State government. State aid had been given at the beginning, had 
been continued for seventy years, and was sorely needed still. But since the inviolability 
of the College Charter had been demonstrated by President Clap, public sentiment had opposed 
the giving of public aid to an institution that was not under public supervision. This sentiment 
had been strengthened by vague reports, purposely spread, that serious abuses in the adminis- 
tration of the College existed under cover of immunity from legislative investigation. 

President Stiles set himself earl\' to removing these suspicions, but for a long time was 
unsuccessful. He exerted his hifluence with individuals, and met committees of the Legislature, 


but with no apparent result as year after year the State refused to give the aid the College 
sought. Attacks continued to be made upon the College in the papers and in the Legislature. 
In 1784, twenty-one years after the first similar attempt had been so signally defeated by 
President Clap, " four different petitions were presented to the Legislature, the general object 
of which was to procure some legislative interference to alter the College Charter, or to establish 
a rival College under State patronage." But the President was really gaining ground through 
his perseverance, and the respect which his character and attainments inspired. At last, near 
the close of his career, he succeeded in what had been one of the most earnest purposes of his 
life, viz., the establishment of cordial relations between the State and the College. 

The first important move looking toward this result was the appointment of a committee 
by thfc Legislature in 1791 "to confer with the Corporation on the condition of the College." 
Several days were spent in a friendly conference, during which the Corporation won the good- 



will of the committee by giving them without reserve all the information they wanted, and 
furnishing them every facility for investigating the affairs of the College. The result was a most 
fa\orable report to the Legislature on the management and condition of the institution, and 
a statement of its pressing pecuniar)- needs. 

Together with this report was presented a plan prepared by Mr. Hillhouse, the College 
Treasurer, whereby certain funds were to be appropriated by the State for the use of the 
College, and the College in return was to admit the State to a participation in the management 
of its affairs. In accordance with this arrangement, agreed to by the Legislature and the Cor- 
poration, the Governor, Lieutenant-Governor and six senior Senators became, in 1792, ex officio 
members of the Corporation. In the governing body thus enlarged, the new lay members had 


individually equal voice and \ote with the clerical members, so that although thc}' could not 
outvote the latter, they were in a position to know, on behalf of the State, e\'er\'thing that 
transpired in the management of the College. This satisfied the demand at the time for State 
oversight, and the College enjoyed the benefit of the confidence thus happily restored. Part 
of the benefit accrued to it in the form of increased salary for the Chair of Mathematics and 
Natural Philosophy, which made it possible to secure Mr. Josiah Meigs, of the Class of '78- for 
the long-vacant Professorship. Another part accrued to it in the form of a new building, called 
Union Hall (later St)uth College), to commemorate the substantial union with the State which 
had been consummated. 

President Stiles did not live long to enjoy the fruit of his labors, for he died in 1795, after 
"a sickness of a few days. " He had devoted," sa\-s Professor Dexter, " his matured powers 
unremittingly for seventeen years in a difficult time to the service of the College, and had seen 


it advance steadily in solid usefulness and in popular rcputalion. Tiiough genuinely simple 
in his private character, he was punctilious about the details of official dignity, and fostered 
in the true antiquarian spirit all the traditional orders and ceremonies of the placr." His 
learning was varied and profound. " It would be difficult," says Professor Kingsley, " to mention 
any subject of moment in which he had not, as occasion occurred, taken an acti\e interest. He 
was familiar with every department of learning. His literary curiosity was never satisfied, and 
his zeal in acquiring and conununicating knowledge continued unabated to the last. 1 le was 
distinguished for his knowledge of history, particularly the history of the Cluneh. h'ew persons 
probably in the United States have acquired as great familiarity with the Latin language." 
Another writer says, " His acquaintance also with the Oriental languages, and his correspond- 
ence with learned men in his own countr\- and in distant quarters of the globe, \\as something 
very remarkable for the time in which he li\etl. He was an ardent patriot during the whole 
progress of the Rcvolutionar)' War. . . .He was through life full of interest in contemporary 
history, and the voluminous journals in which he w rote extended accounts of current events, 
and the papers of other kinds which he left to the College, ha\e been a treasure-house for sub- 
sequent historians of the period in which he li\ed, from which they have obtained the most 
valuable material. He was withal ardentl>- attached to the College. He was a true college man, 
thoroughly imbued with the spirit of the place, and disposed to maintain all its traditions. No 
officer of the institution has e\er laboretl with more zeal for its prosperity" " His special claim 
to the gratitude of the alumni is his success in removing what had become the great and serious 
obstacle to the growth and prosperity of the institution, its unpopularit)-. He brought the 
College back into the line of its traditions and to its historic place in harmony with all classes 
of the people of the State, and with the Legislature." 

CI1.\1T1:R VII 


THL manner of life at Vale during the eighteenth century is not known to us as full} as 
the present life will be known to those who come after us. No College papers were 
published then, nor did the local journals give much space to the doings of the students. The 
old College laws, the " Annals of Vale College" by President Clap, and diaries and correspond- 
ence of graduates, are our principal sources of information. President Woolsey collected the 
most important items that ha\e come down to us, in his coninienioratix e address at the one 
hundred and fiftieth Commencement in ICS50, and that address has been used in the preparation 
of this chapter. 

President Stiles notes in his diar\-, Jime 29, 177S, "This evening I began to read the bt>ok 
of customs in the chapel." This book appears to have been prepared largely for the guiilance 
of Freshmen, and to have been read in public each year for their benefit. From passages which 
have been preserved, probably out of this book, we learn that all undergraduates " are for- 
bidden to wear their hats (unless in stormy weather) in the front door \ard of the President's or 
Professor's house, or within ten rods of the person of the President, eight rods of the Professor, 
and five rods of a Tutor." W'e can well believe that irreverent students calculated to a nicety 
the exact point at which it became necessary to uncover on approaching these different grades 


of dignity, and so cultivated those powers of observation which the regular curriculum left 
largely undeveloped. We are told of one very tall student who not only approached but actually 
passed a diminutive Tutor without the usual mark of respect ! On being brought to task for 
it, he blandl}' declared that he did not see the Tutor. In addition to the foregoing rule for all 
students, we read that " The Freshmen are forbidden to wear their hats in College yard (except 
in storm}- weather, or when they are obliged to carry something in their hands) until May 
\acation." Again, " \Vhene\er a Freshman either speaks to a superior or is spoken to by one, 
he shall keep his hat off until he is bidden to put it on," and this appears to have been required 
" not onh' about College, but everywhere else within the Limits of the city of New Haven." 
Apparentl}- a Freshman did not have much use for a hat. Was this the basis of the well-known 
custom which forbids the wearing of tall hats in Freshman year? However that may be, there 
would seem to be no doubt about the antiquity of the custom respecting canes. In the " Yale 
Students' Hand-book" published in 1897, by the Young Men's Christian Association are printed 
a few rules of conduct v.hich " the Freshmen will do well to observe," and one of them is, "Not 
to carry a cane before Washington's birthda\'." Turning back to the " Freshmen Laws " pub- 
lished in 1764, we read, " No Freshman shall walk with a cane." Is not this entitled to be 
considered the oldest custom in College? 

The minute ordering of the Freshmen's ways did not stop at the prohibition of hats and 
canes. " When a Freshman is near a gate or door, belonging to College or College yard, he 
shall look around and observe whether any of his superiors are coming to the same ; and if any 
are coming within three rods, he shall not enter without a signal to proceed. In passing up or 
down stairs, or through an entry or any other narrow passage, if a Freshman meets a superior, 
he shall stop and give way, leaving the most convenient side — if on the stairs, the banister side. 
Freshmen shall not run in College yard, or up or down stairs, or call to an)' one through a College 
window. When going into the chamber of a superior, they shall not speak until spoken to ; 
the\- shall repl_\' modestly to all questions, and perform their errands decently and respectfully. 
They shall not tarry in a superior's room after they are dismissed, unless asked to sit down. 
Thc\- shall alwa\'s rise, whenever a superior enters or leaves the room where thc_\' are, and not 
sit in his presence until permitted." Surely there was need of a " Declaration of Independence " 
in those daj's on other than political grounds. 

The reference to performing errands calls attention to the practice which made Freshmen 
within certain limits the ser\-ants of the upper-class men. One of the "Freshmen Laws" was 
as follows : " Freshmen are obliged to perform all reasonable errands for any superior, alwaj's 
returning an account of the same to the person who sent them. When called, they shall attend 
and give a respectful answer ; and when attending on their superior, they are not to depart 
until regularly dismissed. Thc\- are responsible for all damage done to an\-thing put into their 
hands by way of errand." That the Freshmen sometimes displa}-ed the spirit of '76 may be 
taken for granted, and indeed the law itself gives evidence of that, for the prohibitions against 
impatientl)- turning on one's heel, or showing one's \exation b>- injuring propcrt)-, were doubt- 
less inserted because the)- were needed. Bv way of further proof, we find this entry in Professor 
Silliman's journal when he was a Senior in 1795: "I was appealed to as umpire between a 
Freshman and a Junior who had commanded the Freshman to go of an errand, and he refused. 
I decided conditionally in favor of the F"reshman, and my judgment was afterwards confirmed 
by the opinion of my classmates." Sometimes doubtless a shrewd Freshman could get even 
with his "superior" in spite of the minute provisions of the law, as when one was sent with 


a dollar to get " some pipes and tobacco," and came back willi ninety-nine pipes and one 
cent's worth of tobacco. Limits were also put to the errand-sending propensities of lazy ujipor- 
class men by the rules that Freshmen " are not obliged to go for the undergraduates in study 
time, without permission obtained from the authority; nor are they obliged to go for a graduate 
out of the yard in study time," and " none may order a Freshman in one pla\'lime to do an 
errand in another." The privilege of sending Freshmen on erramls was abolished in 1804. 
Until then an effective form of punishment consisted in taking the privilege awa\- from an 
upper-class man, or lengthening the period of servitude beyond Freshman )-ear. 

Curious evidence is given of the extent to which class distinctions were recognized. Thus 
we read, "A Senior ma_\' take a Freshman from a Sophimore, a Bachelor from a Junior, and 
a Master from a Senior." Again, " In case of personal insult, a Junior may call up a I'reshman 
and reprehend him. A Sophimore in like case must obtain leave from a Senior, and then he 
ma\' discipline a l-Veshman, not detaining him more than fi\e minutes, after which the Freshman 
maj' retire, even without being dismissed, but must retire in a respectful manner." 7\s very 
few students in those days could have been possessors of watches, disputes about the fi\e- 
minutcs limit would seem to have furnished a fine field for " arbitration," or possibl)' some more 
summary process if a " Sophimorc's " dignity were ruffled b\- a retiring Freshman. 

Perhaps a more singular provision than than for errand-running was the one which 
made it the " duty " of Seniors to teach Freshmen the College laws. Thus, " It being 
the dut\' of the Seniors to teach Freshmen the College laws, usages, and customs of the 
College, to this end they are empowered to order the whole Freshman class, or any par- 
ticular member of it, to appear, in order to be instructed or reproved, at such time and 
place as they shall appoint; w'nen and where every Freshman shall attend, answer all 
proper questions, and behave decently. The Seniors however are not to detain a Fresh- 
man more than five minutes after study-bell, without special order from the President, 
Professor, or Tutor." It is to be jiresumcd that this function of giving instruction, thus 
carefully provided for, was seriousl)- performed for a while at least, but it degenerated 
into a farce, as was to be expected. Along with it was the practice of giving " advice," 
of which Professor Silliman makes sober mention in his diary. " In the afternoon I went 
to speaking, after which the Senior called up the Fn-shman class into the long gallery, 
and gave them some advice." It can be imagined what a fine opportunity was here 
offered to fun-loving students, and it is not surprising that the practice of giving "advice" 
continued well into the present centurv, after the Seniors were relieved from all responsi- 
bility for teaching the Freshmen the laws. 

Before the time of President Dwight, the discipline of the College was administered 
largely by means of fines. "Thus there was in 1748 a fine of a penny for the absence 
of an undergraduate from prayers, and a half-penny for tardiness, or coming in after the 
introductory collect; of four-pence for absence from public worship ; of from four to six pence 
for absence from one's chamber during the time of study; of one shilling for picking 
open a lock the first time, and two shillings the second ; of two and sixpence for play- 
ing at cards or dice, or for bringing strong liquor into College; of one shilling for doing 
damage to the College or jumping out of the windows, — and so on in man\- other cases.' 
This system of punishing College offences was not peculiar to Vale, and belonged to an 
undemocratic age, since it evidently favored the rich. It was further open to the objec- 
tion that it obscured the moral turpitude of some of the offences to which it was applied, 




and hence tended to lower the moral standard of the students. Objection was made 
to it even before the Revolution, but it was not given up until some time after. 

Another form of punishment which was possible only where aristocratic distinctions 
of rank were observed, was " degradation." This consisted in withholding from a student 
the precedence to which his family connections entitled him. To the sons of magistrates 
and clergymen, whose names could be moved from the top to the bottom of the class 
lists, this was a real punishment ; but it evidently could not be applied to those whose 
normal position was at the bottom. Perhaps it was for their special benefit that one more 
remarkable form of punishment was devised — that oi cuffing. "It was applied before the 
Faculty to the luckless ofiender by the President, towards whom the culprit, in a standing 
position, inclined his head, while blows fell in quick succession upon either ear." This 
punishment does not appear to have been applied later than the earl\- part of Sophomore 
year, and was probably discontinued shortly before the Revolution. It was not peculiar 
to Yale, but was a 
corporal punishment 
in the seventeenth 

An essential fea- 
during the eighteenth 
mons." Aside from 
ment in fa\'or of a 
had come from Eng- 
difficulty of finding 
places in a small town 
cordingl)' the kitchen 
of the first Yale build- 
answered the purpose 
chapel was also the 
more than sixt}' }-ears 

tion of intellectual, spiritual, and physical provision was maintained, 
dining hall was built, afterwards known as the Chemical Laboratory, and this gave way in 
1819 to the third dining hall, where the students boarded in Commons until 1842. In so 
far as the authorities gave the Commons full recognition as a regular department of the 
College, and required the attendance of all students, as at any other College e.xercise, it 
may be treated as an eighteenth-century institution, although some of the incidents men- 
tioned in connection with it may have happened in the present century. It would be unfair 
to pass judgment on the food furnished by the College on the basis of complaints made by 
the students. Young men with healthy appetites, away from home, and probabh- deprived 
of the particular dishes or st\-le of cooking they have been accustomed to, are apt to be 
critical, to say the least. From notices which have been preserved of the bills of fare ordered 
b\- the College, it is evident that the authorities aimed to furnish enough of plain, healthful 
food in some variety. Bread, beef, veal, mutton, pork, vegetables, milk and apple-pie are 
mentioned. Also various drinks which a College would not be likel\- to supply to its stu- 
dents at the present day. Beer was furnished at dinner for man\- years, then cider took its 
place, and beer was allowed at supper until 1759. Details are e.xtant, showing the care that 
was taken to have the beer good. The board was probably as good as the majority of 





modified form of the 
in vogue at Harvard 

ture of the College 
centur)' was the "Com- 
the traditional senti- 
commoa table which 
land, there was the 
suitable boarding 
in those da}"s. Ac- 
was an important part 
ing, and the hall which 
of lecture-room and 
dining-room. F"or 
this intimate associa- 
Then in 1782, a new 


students had at their own homes. But owing to the difficulty of transportation in those 
days, the area of surroundini^ country from which any town drew its supplies was small, 
and at times the College Commons must ha\-e felt the effects of scarcity. This was cspcciallj- 
the case during the Revolutionary War, when the College was broken up for weeks at a 
time on account of the difficulty of obtaining provisions. 

The attitude of the students toward the Commons was a fruitful source of trouble. 
Most of them were well disposed in a way, recognizing the service the College was 
doin" them by furnishing board at a low price. Hut the Commons offered a fine field 
for natural grumblers and mischief-makers, and at least one decided expression of dis- 
satisfaction, known as the " Bread and Butter Rebellion," occurred in the present century. 
On that occasion, the larger part of the students went home, after kneeling in a great 
circle on the grass and singing a parting ode prepared for the occasion and set to the 
tunc of Auld Lang Syne. Most of them returned promptly after an inter\icw with their 

While actual outbreaks were very rare, the daily conduct of the students at table 
was characterized by great freedom. One writer says that while the blessing was being 
asked, the students usually improved the time by skirmishing for \ictuals, so that when 
the blessing was over, two forks would sometimes be found " sticking into each potato 
on the table." The same writer speaks of the dinner-time as being "a few minutes of 
uproar " during which the food was rapidly consumed, after which grace was said again 
and the students dispersed. Not however until the more provident among them had 
laid in a store for the ne.\t meal by pinning pieces of bread, meat, etc., to the under 
side of the tabic with their forks. On the other hand, such food as did not commend 
itself was liable to be summarily disposed of, for " the boiled beef occasionally found its 
resting place on the sanded floor beneath the tables, and the butter, with a strength 
greater than its own, sped out of the windows." 

A curious anne.K to the Commons was the " Butter)-," where the students could purchase 
additional refreshment between meals. This institution was located in the lower front corner 
room, south entry, of South Middle College, and was in charge of the Butler. This official was 
always a graduate of good standing and character. His chief prerogative " was to have the 
monopoly of certain eatables, drinkables and other articles desired by the students. The Latin 
laws of 1748, give him leave to sell in the Buttery cider, methcglin, strong beer to the amount of 
not more than twelve barrels annuall}' — which amount as the College grew was increased to 
twenty — together with loaf sugar, pipes, tobacco and such necessaries of scholars as were not 
furnished in the Commons Hall. Some of these necessaries were books and stationer}-, but 
certain fresh fruits also figured largely in the Butler's supply. No student might buy cider 
or beer elsewhere." The authorities hoped that by furnishing light refreshment under restric- 
tions as to quantity and cash payment, they could restrain extravagance and desire to drink on 
the part of the students. In President Woolsey's opinion this effort was not successful. The 
Buttery was abolished in 1S17, and the Commons in 1842. 

The studies pursued during the infancy of the College may be learned from the laws of 
1720 and 1726. "In the first year after admission, on the four first da\s of the week, all 
students shall be exercised in the Greek and Hebrew tongues only; beginning logic in the 
morning at the latter end of the year, unless their tutors see cause by reason of their ripeness 
in the tongues to read logic to them sooner. They shall spend the second year in logic with 



the exercise of themscKcs in the tongues; the third year principally in physics, and the 
fourth year in metaphssics and mathematics, still carr\ing on the former studies. But in all 
classes the last days of the week are allowed for rhetoric, oratory, and divinity." The latter 
studies are more fully described thus : " All students shall, after they have done reciting 
rhetoric and ethics on P^rida\-s, recite Wollebius' theology ; and on Saturday- morning they 
shall recite Ames' theological theses in his Medulia, and on Saturday evening the Assembly's 
Shorter Catechism in Latin, and on Sabbath day morning attend the explanation of Ames' 
cases of conscience." Furthermore, " all undergraduates shall publicly repeat sermons in the 
hall in their course, and also bachelors; and be constantly examined on Sabbath at evening 
pra\er." It was also prescribed that " no scholar shall use the English tongue in the College 
with his fellow scholars, unless he be called to a public exercise proper to be attended in 
the English tongue, but scholars in their chambers and when they are together shall talk in 
Latin." About the middle of the centur\- it was ordered that " on Friday each undergraduate 
in his order, about si.x at a time, shall declaim in the Hall- in Latin, Greek, or Hebrew, and 
in no other language without special leave." Ac a result of this cultivation of the dead 
languages, President Woolsey tells us that " the fluent use of Latin was acquired by the great 
bod)' of the students," though he does not speak \cr_\' highl}' of its quality. 

President Clap improved the course by introducing more mathematics. He says in 1776 
of the Freshmen at the time of their admission that they " are able well to construe and 
parse Tull\-'s orations, Virgil and the Greek Testament, and understand the rules of common 
arithmetic. In the first \-ear the)' learn Hebrew, and principally pursue the stud)- of the 
languages, and make a beginning in logic and some part of the mathematics. In the second 
\-ear the)' stud)- the languages ; but principally recite logic, rhetoric, oratory, geography and 
natural philosoph)-; and some of them make good proficienc)' in trigonometry and algebra. 
In the third )'ear the)' still pursue the study of natural philosoph)-, and most branches of 
mathematics. Man)' of them well understand surve)'ing, na\'igation, and the calculation of 
eclipses ; and some of them are considerabl)' proficient in conic sections and flu.xions. In the 
fourth )'ear they principally study and recite metaphysics, ethics, and divinity. The two upper 
classes exercise their powers in disputing, e\'ery Monday in the s)-llogistic form, and e\'er)' 
Tuesda)' in the forensic." 

The range of this curriculum was small, but its disciplinary \-alue ivas great. The best 
evidence of this is to be found in the large number of strong men who received their training 
at Yale in the eighteenth centur)-, and became leaders in the theological, educational, political, 
and constitutional movements of the age. 

Admixistr.\tion of President Dwight 

AT the death of President Stiles, the friends of the College turned with one accord to Rev. 
Timothy Dwight, D.D., as his successor. Dr. Dwight was of famous New England an 
cestr)', being a grandson of Jonathan Edwards. He was an educator of proved ability, and 
was thoroughl)' acquainted with the details of the College management, having ser\'ed as Tutor 
for six years with distinguished success during Dr. Daggett's term. ^-Vt the resignation of the 



latter, ho woultl probabl\- have been i)ul al the head of the College had it not been for his com- 
parative \oiith. This howe\er did not appear to the students a serious objection, for thej- were 
desirous of having him chosen at once. During the years of his Tutorship he had impressed 
himself upon them to a remarkable degree. I'roof has ahead)- been given of their appreciation 
of him as a teacher. His moral and religious influence over them had also been very marked. 
The custom of leaving a class entirely in the care of a single Tutor had given him an excellent 
opportunit\- for the exercise of personal influence over individuals. The College pulpit also had 
enabled him to reach the student bod\-, and his public discourses had made a deep impression. 

The\- also rc\caled 
mind on the con- 
for the success of 
the breadth of his 
time concerning 

After leaving 
serving in the 
army a while as 
been settled over 
field Hill. From 
fort\-four, in the 
powers, he was 
idenc)' of Vale, 
took place Sep- 

The time was 
one in the history 
I'or nearl)' a hun- 
struggled along, 
vicissitudes. It 
the demoralizing 
wars, and a period 
arch\' hardi)- less 
war. It had rc- 
a quarter of the 
shadow of popular 
had been stunted 
the consequent 


the grasp of his 
tlitions necessary 
the College, and 
views at that car!}- 
its future, 
the College, and 
Revol u lion ary 
Chaplain, he had 
a church at Green- 
tliis, at tlu' age of 
fulness of liis 
called to the I'res- 
liis inauguration 
tembir S, I 795. 
a most important 
of the College, 
drcd years it had 
subject to mail)' 
had experienced 
effects of four 
of threatening an- 
j)ernicions than a 
mained for nearly 
ccntur)- under the 
disapproval, and 
in its growth by 
closing of the only 

avenue from which adequate support could then come. As a result of these unfavorable 
influences, it had alwa)s been small in size and restricted in its equipment, so that, although 
relatively of great imjjortance among the educational institutions of the countr)', it had not 
advanced very far beyond the grade of a " Collegiate School." But under Dr. Stiles, as we 
have seen, a great improvement had taken place, at least in its prospects. The State govern- 
ment had been reconciled and had renewed its benefactions, and the religious community 
was fairly united in its support. 

The condition of the country also was full of promise for the future. The new constitution 
had been in successful operation for several years under the wise and firm administration of 
Washington, giving to the country a government strong enough to keep the peace among the 



States, and compel the obedience of individual citizens. During the preceding year, by the sup- 
pression of the insurrection in Western Pennsylvania, it had been shown in a convincing manner 
that a genuine national government had been established. This secured, and a commercial 
treaty with England in operation, the country was entering on a career of prosperity in which 
the College might hope to share if its affairs were wisely managed. 

The accession of President Uwight marks the beginning of a new epoch in the history of 
the College. As the narrow colonial life of the people was expanding into the broader and 
stronger life of a great nation, so the cramped life of the small colonial College was on the 
threshold of a great change which would soon give it a national character. Thus far the 
College had been dominated by the ideas and hampered by the usages of former genera- 
tions. President Dwight set his face resolutely toward the future, and under the touch of 
his genius it began to assume those essential characteristics which distinguish the Yale of 
to-day. Great enlargement there has been since his time, but this has come mainly as the 
development of what was started by the far-sighted man who led the College out of the old 
century into the new. 

At the close of his first year he issued a catalogue containing the lists of the four classes, 
and the publication commenced then has continued without interruption to the present da\-. 
Separate lists of the members of a single class had occasional!}- been printed before, but the 
Catalogue of 1796, was the first regular annual Catalogue of Yale, and so far as known was the 
first published by any College in the country. It was printed on a single sheet and contained 
1 17 names. It was a small affair, )"et the publishing of it was an act of self-respect and of faith 
in the future. It was the toga virilis of the College just entering on its manhood, and looking 
hopefully for greater things to come. The growth of the catalogue from its one page in 1796 to 
its 426 pages in 1896 impressively marks the dimly foreseen growth of the College itself from 
its child's estate one hundred \'ears ago. 

That President Dwight expected considerable growth in the College and planned for it was 
shown b\' his purchase of additional land for the future erection of buildings. At his accession 
in 1795, the College lot was substantially a parallelogram with a frontage of 334 feet on College 
Street, and 246 feet on Chapel Street. The Lvceum now stands vcr\- ncarl_\- on the northwest 
corner of this lot, so that a good idea of it may be obtained by following the rear of Lyceum out 
to Chapel Street, and its north side down to College Street. The land thus marked off" contains 
the Lyceum, South Middle, the east wing of Vanderbilt, Osborn Hall, and about three-fourths 
of Welch. By President Dn-ight's far-sighted action in the first \^ear of his term additions were 
made to this small lot until the College owned the greater part of the square enclosed by 
College, Chapel, High and Elm Streets. Of the portions not secured in that year, there was 
one lot, 58 feet on College Street and one hundred feet deep, on which stood two unwel- 
come buildings. This lot had been in 1753, the property of Benjamin Franklin. He appears 
to have bought it expecting to put on it a building for a post-office and printing-office for his 
nephew, who was appointed Postmaster a few years later; but this plan was never carried out. 
In 1790 the front half of the lot was bought by the count}-, and the jail was built on it, where 
the south end of Lawrance now stands. The rear half was acquired by the town, and on that was 
built the almshouse, which would thus stand partly in front of Lawrance. In 1799 and 1800, 
President Dwight was able to purchase this land, and so the College secured an unbroken 
front on College Street, and got rid of its unpleasant neighbors. It may be added as an item 
of interest, though not connected with the narrative at this point, that the Sloane and Kent 
VOL. I. — 17 


laboratories stand on land which, at the original settlement of \e\v Haven, was the home lot 
of Thomas Yale, the father of Elihu Yale. 

The method of discipline at Yale, as President Dwight found it, was one of those features 
which belonged to an earlier period and to a different stage of civilization. It was administered 
officially by the Faculty in the form of fines, and semi-officially on the newer students b\- the 
older ones in various forms of domineering. The laws also were antiquated in form, and too 
nimierous and minute. The practical outcome of the system of fines was that a student could 
indulge considerabl\- in \arious forms of transgression if he was rich enough to pa)- for it. This 
was demoralizing, as was also the system of fagging. President Dwight believed that the best 
form of discipline is that which leads to intelligent self-restraint, and to .secure this he depended 
largely on his personal influence over the young men, which was remarkable. Unite early in his 
term he remodelled the College laws, and later abolished the s}slem of fines, ami slopped the 
practice of fagging. 

When Dr. Dwight commenced his work as President, he took charge of the Senior Class, as 
was customary, acted as Professor of ICnglish Literature and Orator}', filled the vacant chair 
of Divinit)', and preached twice each Sunda}' in the College chapel. Besides himself, there were 
on the l-"aculty Professor Meigs, who taught ^Mathematics, Natural Philosoph\- and ilstronomy, 
and three Tutors. This meagre teaching force was a sur\i\al from the period wliich came to a 
close with the death of President Stiles. As we have seen, it was an unfiilfilled amliilion of the 
latter to increase material!)' the [lermanent chairs of instruction. What he could not do, the new 
President, having fallen upon better times, was able to acconiijlish. The resignation of Professor 
Meigs gave an opportunity to divide his chair, and the importance of foimding a chair for the 
languages was obvious. A complete understanding with the Stale ha\ing been reached regard- 
ing the funds voted to the College b)- the Legislature, the wa)- was open for founding three new 

In the earlier period it is quite likel)- that a clergyman who had attaineti some ])ulpit emi- 
nence would have been chosen for each of these places. Put Piesiilcnt Dwight saw clearl)' the 
greater advantage which would ultimately come to the College if )'oung men of promise were 
encouraged to adopt a special department of instruction as the field of their life-work, and 
prepare themselves early for it. In adopting this enlightened polic)-, he anticipated what is now 
universall)' recognized as the onl\- reliable wa\- to secure the best teachers in the higher depart- 
ments of instruction, and he showed how essentiall)' modern was the working of his mintl. 
Professor De.xter has well said, contrasting him w ith Dr. Stiles, " the change to Dr. Dwight was 
like a passage from a t\-pe of the eighteenth centur)- to an earnest of the nineteenth." 

Having made this wise decision as to the wa)' in which the new chairs should be filled, 
President Dwight next showed his rare discernment of character in the selections which he made. 
Among the recent graduates of the College were three )-oung men who in the President's opinion 
possessed unusual qualifications for College work. They were Jeremiah Day of the Class of '95, 
Benjamin Silliman of '96, and James L. Kingslev' of '99. They were accordingly chosen respec- 
tively for the Chairs of " Mathematics and Natural Philosoph)-," " Chemistry and Natural History," 
and " Hebrew, Greek and Latin Languages." Mr. William L. Kingsley has said, "The wisdom 
of President Dwight was shown in no one thing more conspicuously than in the selection of these 
three men to be his associates as permanent officers of the College. The)- were not onl\- each 
superior in his own department, but through the whole life of President Dwight the)- ever 
remained in cordial sxmpathy with him in all his views respecting education, and gave him 



their hearty support. Neither did the benefits of their connection with the College cease with 
his life. For a period of over fifty years these three men lived to labor together in its behalf 
as colleagues, in true harmony with each other." 

Under President Dwight and the eminent men he had gathered about him, the fame of the 
College was widely e.xtended, and students resorted to it from distant parts of the land. It was 
no longer a local Connecticut or even New Erfgland institution, but was taking on a national 
character which it has ever since retained. To this time also may be traced the beginning of cor- 
porate consciousness on the part of the students, one phase of which was the spirit of antagonism 

which arose be- 
rough characters 
ing to more than 
onstration. The 
bod\- was bccom- 
its strength and 
took a character- 
way of showing it. 
and far more last- 
of loyalty to Yale 
since character- 
the beginning of 
how much we are 
man who awak- 
admiration in his 
them feel proud 
College over which 
The plans of 
for Yale reached 
opment along Col- 
He looked forward 
into a true Uni- 
this end he sought 
tinct professional 
separate faculties 
Only one of these 
ganized during his 


tween them and 
in the town, lead- 
one riotous dem- 
ing conscious of 
importance, and 
istically youthful 
But back of this, 
ing, was the spirit 
which has ever 
izedhersons. For 
this, who can tell 
indebted to the 
ened enthusiastic 
pupils, and made 
of belonging to the 
he presided. 
President Dwight 
beyond its dc\cl- 
Icge lines alone, 
to its expansion 
versity, and to 
to organize dis- 
schools, with their 
of instruction. 
was actually or- 
lifetime. This 

was the Medical School, which began its career in 181 3. But he prepared the way for the 
Divinity School, which though not full)- organized until 1822, had existed in embryo for some 
time before in the group of graduate students who were regularly taught by the President in 
his capacity as Professor of Divinity. He also contemplated the establishment of a Law 
School, but this also did not come until after his death. 

President Dwight, in the words of another, " was one of the most conspicuous of men in 
modern times for the roundness and fulness, the variety and symmetry, of his powers. He was 
an ardent lover of music ; a poet of some merit to say the least, considering the age ; a teacher 
of extraordinary abilit)- ; one of the first preachers of his generation. He was acquainted with 
almost every subject, had read extensiveh' in the literature of the English language, was a 


delighted observer of nature, loved flowers and all beautiful things with the ardor of a child, 
and opened his mind to be taught in everything useful, from the highest to the lowest sphere, 
lie had practical wisdom to devise plans for needed improvements, and practical encrgv to 
carry out these plans to their result, to a degree which few have ever surpassed. I le had 
a hopeful outlook upon the future, and believed that the golden age was yet to come, and he 
was ready for every necessary effort and sacrifice to make that future possible, as well as to 
hasten its coming. He was a patriot with a most ardent love for his countrw hclie\iiig in 
liberty and abhorring the system which brought human beings into bondage and deprived them 
of all their dearest rights. He was a Christian believer of the humblest and most earnest 
kind, full of love for his fellow-men, and ever ready to give them sympath\- and help on their 
wa\' to hea\en. With reasoning powers of a high order, with a culti\atecl imagination, with 
a conversational ability admired by all the circle of his acquaintance and by strangers even 
who met him for the first time, with the manners of a gentleman, and, in a wonderful degree, 
the bearing and person of a nobleman — his form erect and full of dignity, his face beaming 
with intelligence and virtue, and his w hole appearance impressive and commanding — w ith all 
this so conspicuous to every beholder, he must have filled the College with the refinement 
of his presence." 


IT was no easy matter to find a successor to President Dwight. His commanding abilities 
and national reputation were such that any man attempting to fill his place was likely to 
suffer by comparison. His own selection was understood to be Professor Da>\ He had chosen 
Mr. Day in 1795, to take the school in Greenfield Hill in which he was especially interested, 
and which he was obliged to leave on going to New Ha\en. He had soon after brought Mr. 
Day to Yale as a Tutor, and in 1803 had secured his appointment as Professor. During the 
fourteen years that followed he had found Professor Da\- a tlioroiighl}- reliable helper, enter- 
ing fully and heartily into his plans and carrying them out with quiet determination and ex- 
cellent judgment. He therefore naturally desired that Professor Day might be the one to carry 
out his unfinished plans when he should be called away. But that gentleman was very re- 
luctant to undertake the task. He was a \-ery quiet man, with a modest estimate of his own 
abilities, and was known to the public only as the author of some mathematical text-books. 
He was well aware that he was lacking in those brilliant qualities w^iich President Dwight had 
led the public to e.xpect in a Yale President. At first he declined an election, but afterward 
at the solicitation of friends he accepted, and was inaugurated Jul>- 23, 1817. ffe brought to 
the discharge of his new duties administrative abilities of a high order, and an intimate acquaint- 
ance with the College, which he had already served for nineteen \-ears. During the next twenty- 
nine years, longer than any one else, he led the College through a most eventful period of its 
history, leaving it at last a larger and stronger and more scholarly institution than it had ever 
been before. 

President Day set himself to carry out the far-sighted plans of his predecessor, but he 
could not continue his methods. Those were individual, and no one unless similarly endowed 



by nature could hope to employ them with success. In so far as pertained to the management 
of the undergraduate body, the key-note of President Dwight's administration was personal 
influence ; that of President Day's was organization. President Dwight depended upon inspir- 
ing the young men with a desire to do right; President Day impressed upon them the dis- 
agreeable consequences of doing wrong. The latter could best be done by the deliberate 
impersonal action of a bod\- of men. Hence early in his term the action of the Faculty as an 
organized bod\" assumed an importance it ne\ er had before. In fact, President Day inaugurated 
the system of Facult}' government which has ever since characterized the College. 

He was assisted in doing this b\- the increased size and importance of the Faculty result- 
made necessary by 
the Presidency, and 

ing from changes 
his own elevation to 
from subsequent ad- 
cessor had added to 
dent those of Pro- 
Literature and Ora- 
But President Day's 
mathematics, with 
erature and orator)- 
nate ; and, although 
the ministry on the 
ration as President, 
fied to teach divinit)-. 
new Professors were 
T. Fitch, Divinit_\- ; 
rich. Rhetoric and 
ander M. Fisher 
until 1820), Mathe- 
Philosoph)-, to take 
President. Thus the 
the President and 
cers with an enlarged 
instructors — a re- 
size, and containing 
ity in their respective 

ditions. His prede- 
his duties as Presi- 
fessor of English 
tory, and of Divinity, 
special field had been 
which of course lit- 
were not co-ordi- 
he was ordained to 
day of his inaugu- 
he did not feel quali- 
Accordingly three 
appointed, Eliazur 
Chauncej- A. Good- 
Oratory ; and Ale.x- 
( Adjunct Professor 
matics and Natural 
the place of the 
P'aculty consisted of 
five permanent offi- 
corps of temporary 
spectable body in 
men of the first abil- 

Change in this body was soon made necessary b\' death. Professor Fisher, a \oung 
man of rare promise, lost his life by shipwreck in 1822. Matthew R. Dutton, who was 
chosen to take his place, also died in 1825, and the chair was then filled by the appoint- 
ment of Denison Olmsted. In 1836, the chair was divided. Professor Olmsted taking Nat- 
ural Philosophy and Astronomy, and Anthony D. Stanley being appointed to the Chair 
of Mathematics. In 1831, the Chair of Ancient Languages was divided. Professor Kingsley 
choosing to continue his work in Latin, and Theodore D. Woolsey being appointed to the 
new Chair of Greek. In 1839, Professor Goodrich was transferred to the Theological 
Department, and William A. Larned was chosen to take his place. In 1843, Thomas 
A. Thacher was appointed Assistant Professor of Latin. (He was made full Professor 
in 1851.) 




Early in I'rcsidcnt Day's term the stiid\' of the clr.ssics was attacked as unsuited to the 
practical needs of the times. So persistently were the " dead languages " denounced in tiie 
papers, that the Corporation appointed a committee in iS:;; to consider the matter of continu- 
ing the stud)' of the classics. The report of this committee was at no time in doubt. They 
recommended that the demands of the " practical " portion of the press should not be com- 
plied with. At the same time President Day published an admirable statement respecting the 
aim anil i)r<iper character of a college education. Valuable service was rendered the cause of 
liberal as disiinguished from technical education by the decided stand taken by Yale at this 
time, and the determination to stand by the classics was shortly after made still more emphatic 
by the enlargement 
in tliem as alread)' 

It was the good 
Day to be able to 
of his predecessor 
ment of distinct de- 
fessional study. In 
of theological edu- 
such that the Pro- 
the College could 
them. Accordingly 

established the 
ship of Didactic 
a separate endow- 
and filled it by the 
Nathaniel W.Ta\-lor, 
Church. This was 
the Di\init)- School. 
1824, the College 
relations with a pri- 
which had been in 
years in New Haven, 
adopted it as the 
the College. About 
were taken for the 


of the teaching force 
fortune of President 
carry out the plans 
for the establisii- 
partments for pro- 
1822, the demands 
cation had become 
fessor of I)i\ init_\' in 
not alone meet 
tlie Corporation 
" Dwight Professor- 
Theolog)-," secured 
ment for the chair, 
appointment of Rev. 
Pastor of the Center 
tiie fouiulation of 
Two years later, in 
entered into close 
\ a t e law school 
existence for a few 
and in 1843 formally 
Law Department of 
this time also, steps 
giving of instruction 

other than professional, outside the regular College course, whence eventually came the 
Sheffield Scientific School and the Graduate School. In the mean time the Medical School 
had flourished, the students had increased in numbers, and the Faculty had been enlarged. 
Thus under President Day, Vale began to assume definitely the character of a Universit\-. 

At the middle of President Day's term the financial condition of the College demanded 
serious consideration. The endowment was only about $30,000, from which an income of about 
$2,500 was obtained. The College depended mainly upon tuition paid by the students, and 
this was unfortunate for two reasons. One was that while the income increased as the number 
of students became greater, the increased expense of properly caring for the larger number 
was liable to exceed the additional income obtained from them. This was actually the case, 
for in 1 83 1, the College fell behind about $500, and in the next year its expenses exceeded its 



income b\^ about $3000. So that its very prosperity in one direction was crippling it in another. 
A vigorous mo\ement was at once started to raise about $100,000, the income of which should 
be applied at the discretion of the Corporation. An agent was appointed, and the desired 
amount was raised, mostly in small sums. The Class of '31 gave $1000. The securing of this 
sum was an important event. It relieved the College from immediate embarrassment, and added 
a respectable sum to its reliable income. More than that, it gave a most valuable proof of 
dev-otion to the College on the part of many graduates, some at least of whom cramped them- 
seh'es in their self-denying eagerness to help the College. 

The other reason referred to for deprecating the dependence of the College upon tuition 
money was the resulting diScult}' of furnishing free tuition to deserving students who were 

cumstances. The 
dents are apt to be 
ones virtuous, may 
popular generaliza- 
bear close examina- 
however for wishing 
dents at the College 
ocratic character 
given to it if all 
munity were rep- 
the vast importance 
dents' estimates of 
upon character and 
less of pecuniary 
ingly measures were 
dent Day which have 
from that day to 
dents could receive 
out losing self- 

in straitened cir- 
notion that rich stu- 
\-icious, and poor 
be dismissed as a 
tion which will not 
lion. A sound reason 
to keep poor stu- 
was the more dem- 
which would be 
classes of the com- 
resented in it, and 
of having the stu- 
each other depend 
achievement regard- 
resources. Accord- 
set on foot b\- Presi- 
stcadily borne fruit 
this, whereby stu- 
pecuniary aid with- 
respect or the good 
lows. Many Yale 
honored in College, 
in after life, have 


opinion of their fel- 
men, most highly 
and most illustrious 
been among those 

who were not called upon to pa\- for what they received from the College, except by 
faithful work and attention to College duty. 

In 1830, occurred the "Conic Sections Rebellion." It appears to have been caused 
b_\- unwillingness of the majority of one class to perform some College task. Asa lurncr, 
a member of the class, says sarcasticall\- in his autobiography, " It was warm weather, 
and they thought the lessons too hard." The disturbance led to the dismissal of forty-four 
Sophomores. The action of the Faculty, and the support it received from the Faculties 
of other colleges in their refusal to admit any of the men who had been sent away from 
Vale, made a deep and lasting impression upon the students. The uselessness of resisting 
College authority became from that time a fixed tradition of the College. An immediate 
result was the success of President Day's eftbrts to raise the standard of scholarship, 
and soon the students were won over to approval of his methods, which they could see 



were increasing tlie \'alue of tiic College course, and t)f the degree wliicli was to conic 
at its close. 

In 1832, occurred the death of Hon. James Hillliouse, who Jiad held the office of College 
Treasurer continuously from his appointment in 17S2. He was a prominent man in public 
life, with m.in_\- exacting duties, but he fomul time during fifty )-ears to gi\e the College the 
benefit of his great financial ability. \'ale men ha\e reason to remember him with gratitude, 
for we niainlv owe to him the setting out of the man\- elms which ha\'e given New Haven 
its chief beaut)', and ha\e helped to make life endurable in the t!a\s when the summer term 
held on until the close of Jul\-. 


In 1842, an important change was made by the giving up of Commons. This was one 
of the oldest features of the College, having come down from its first settlement in New 
Haven in 1717. The difficulty of meeting even the reasonable tastes of a considerable 
number of young men was obviously great, and increased as the student bod>' became larger. 
The attempt to do this, and to compel students to eat what was fiirnished them or go with- 
out, was a constant irritant, and prolific of occasions for petty discipline, and in 1830 had 
led to the disturbance mentioned in a former chapter. The President, with the good judg- 
ment of a wise ruler, decided to remove the cause of the trouble. We may well believe that 
such men as Professor Silliman and those associated with him were glad to be relieved from 
the uncongenial task of fiirnishing material pabulum to young men who properly looked to 
them for mental nourishment alone. 

The growth of the College under President Day was steady and gratifying, though not 
phenomenal. The classes rose to an average of ninety, from fifty-si.\ under his predecessor. 



To accommodate the increasing number, new buildings were needed, hence it is to President 
Day's administration that several of Yale's well known buildings are due. First was the 
Commons Hall, known later as the Cabinet Building. Then came North College, then the 
Chapel between it and North Middle. This completed the brick row, unless the Theological 
Building erected in 1836, standing somewhat apart from the others and belonging to anotiicr 
department, may be considered as belonging to it. A few \-ears before this the College had 
acquired the Trumbull historical paintings, and had put up a building for their accommodation, 
now the Treasurv, and almost at the close of President Day's term a new Library building 
was commenced. This was notable as the first stone building put up by the College, and 
it might for this reason be spoken of as the first permanent one, were it not that it is already 
doomed to give place to a larger buikling. 


The last half of President Day's term has been properl)- called " a trul\- brilliant period." 
It was ushered in b\' an important religious revival which gave greater sobriety and steadi- 
ness to the College life. " As a body, the whole College communit}' was characterized by 
an interest in stud)-, and a spirit of work which surpassed an\-thing known before." The 
name of one class in particular has come down to us as embod)'ing much that was best in 
the undergraduate life of that period — the famous Class of 'ij, the class of William M. Evarts, 
Chief-Justice Waite, Edwards Pierrepont, and Samuel J. Tilden. " During all this period, 
the consciousness among the students of their numbers, and of their cosmopolitan character, 
added to the esprit dc corps which was alread}' so marked a feature of the College community. 
Never before had the students been known to manifest such affection for their Alma MiiUr, 
or to take such pride in the ability and the reputation of their instructors." 

President Day resigned his ofhce in 1846, after giving their diplomas to thirty classes, 
and was imniediatel)^ chosen a uiembL-r of the Corporation, where he was pernu'tted to ser\'e 


the College for Uventy-ono years longer. His jiealtli in the years of his early manhood was 
ver>- poor. His acceptance of his Professorship was delaj-ed b)' tlie progress of his disease, 
consumption, which it was supposed would soon cut short his promise of a useful life. During 
his busy years, he was still considered as in delicate luahii, uiUil, as the }ears went In, 
people began to think they were mistaken. He retained the use of his mental ant! bodily 
powers almost to the last, and died in his ninety-fifth jear. The writer, while in College 
during the later )ears of his life, well remembers his calm, benignant face, whicJi was often 
seen on the streets and at the I'ost-office. His uiirultled tenii)er and (|iiiet ease of manner 
doubtless had much to do with m;iking his life as long as it was useful. I'rofessor De.xlcr 
has written of him, " The gravity and calmness which were his striking external characteristics 
were in perfect keeping with the whole force of his influence in College affairs. By a well- 
balanced judgment, cautiousness about changes, regularit)- and steadiness in the develop- 
ment of matured plans, and other traits similar to these, he exercised a great though 
unobtrusive power, and left a memory for universal veneration." President Woolsey said 
of him, " I suppose that if the nearly twent)'-five hundred graduates who were educated in 
Yale College between 1817 and 1846 were asked who was the best man lhe>- knew, they 
would with a very general agreement assign that high place to Jeremiah Da)." 


Admimstk.mio.n dk Prksidk.nt Woolsev 

PRKSIDKNT DAY had wished to resign his office several years before he actually 
did so, hence attention had been directed to the question of who should follow 
him. i\t his own election the earlier practice of choosing an eminent clerg\nian had 
not been followed. A Professor in active service hati been i)romoteil. and the results 
were so highly satisfactory that there was now no hesitation in following this precedent. 
So when President Day resigned in 1S46, Professor Theodore D. W'oolse)' was at once 
chosen as his successor. Since 1S31, Professor \Voolsc_\- had filled the chair of Greek 
with distinguished success. As a teacher he had insi)ired his pujiils with some of his 
own enthusiasm for classical literature. As a disciplinarian he had secured the respect- 
ful consideration of the students, even when as a Tutor he had been called u])on to 
face difficulties somewhat appalling to a joung man. He now brought to the wider 
duties of the Presidency a well earned reputation for exact scholarship which brought 
honor to the College, and a skill in administration which gained for it strength and 
growth in every direction, so that " the progress made in the twenty-five years of his 
administration was far bej^ond all precedent in the historj- of the College." 

The oldest branch of the College, the Academical Department as it was now called, in 
distinction from the Professional Schools which had grown up around it, naturally claimed 
his first attention and interest. It was here that his work as an instructor was done, and 
his personal influence beyond the walls of the class-room was most strongl\- felt. 

In accordance with custom he undertook a good share of the instruction i^f the 
Senior Class, choosing for his subjects Political Science and Histor}-, while Mental 



and Moral Philosophy, which had naturally fallen to the share of the clerical Presidents 
of earlier da\s, was now made a separate chair, to which Rev. Noah Porter was called 
in 1846. President Woolsey took advantage of the appointment of the new Professor to 
re-arrange the work of Senior year, and at the same time make an important change 
in its character in accordance with his own ideas of thoroughness. Allusion has been made 
to the action under President Day whereby the work of the students received a much 
needed toning up. For some reason that reform was made to affect only the first three 
vears, so that Freshmen, Sophomores, and Juniors looked fonvard to Senior year as a 

time of relaxed 
of fewer recitations 
dence upon lectures. 
President W'oolsey's 
ness and slovenly 
derstand his intoler- 
tion of affairs. One 
he did was to re- 
the same hard work 
from other students, 
lectures remained. 
Senior work had to 
book and daily reci- 
dents, ever on the 
land of comparative 
from toil, perforce 
Junior year, that is, 
reached the Presi- 
find that " Junior 
songsters of the 
But not upon 
the hea\'\" hand of 
laid. He sprung 
body of students a 
as " Biennial," and 
toons of the period 
horrid mien, ever watchful to de\our the innocent. 


effort on account 
and greater depen- 
Any one who knows 
detestation of lazi- 
work can well un- 
ance of this condi- 
of the first things 
quire of Seniors 
which was expected 
Some listening to 
but the bulk of 
be done with text- 
tation. So the stu- 
lookout for a happy 
if not actual freedom 
turned their eses to 
just before they 
dent, and hence we 
ease " inspired the 

Seniors alone was 
the new President 
upon the whole 
new device known 
pictured in ear- 
as a monster of 
The Biennial was a much-dreaded 

period of written examinations at the close of Sophomore and Senior \-cars on all the 
studies of the two preceding years. To the President it meant more careful and per- 
sistent study throughout the course, on the theory that only permanent acquirements could 
stand the test of such examinations. To the students, at least to many of them, it 
meant little change from happy-go-lucky methods of work, except for the spasms of 
convulsive cramming which were brought on once in two years by the fear of being 
snapped up in the jaws of the above-mentioned monster. The aim of the President was 
understood and respected, but the Biennial was not admired by the students, and it is 
a question whether the scholarship of the College was really improved by it. Even as a 
means of getting rid of dull and delinquent students it was not very successful. A sense 



of fairness inevitably influcncotl the action of the Professors in setting the papers and in 
judging the answers, so that on matters which in the ordinary course of nature must have 
Ion-' since faded out of tiie students' minds, a surprisingly small amount of information was 
allowed to pass. Nor is there an>- reason to believe that this " sweet reasonableness," when 
not carried too far, was really repugnant to the kindl}- nature of the I'resident. He clearly 
showed that he was willing to lead as well as to drive by his action in establishing scholar- 
ships to be secured by voluntary competitive examinations. The most important one of 
these became at once the great honor of Freshman \ear, and had a marked influence in 
stimulating the ambition of the l-"reshmcn. It lias long been known as the " Woolsey 
Scholarship." but 
characteristic mod- 
it be called b\' his 
term of office, llic 
scholarships markal 
system of scholar- 
ships which has 
portant influence 
rewarding, scholarl\- 
The following 
Academical Uc- 
l)()inted during 
term: in 1846, Noah 
Moral Philosophy; 
ley, Greek, in place 
se\- (he was iXssist- 
1S5 I, in which \-ear 
riiacher was also 
sor); in 1850, James 
in 1855, Hubert A. 
ics, to succeed I'ro- 
died in 1853; also 
Instructor in Elocu- 
Loomis, Natural 
tronom\', to succeed 


the President with 
est)' refused to let 
name tluring his 
liiuiuling of these 
the beginning of that 
ships anil fellow- 
had such an im- 
in .stimulating, b)' 
Professors in the 
jjartment were ap- 
I'rcsitleiit W'oolsey's 
Pinter, Mental and 
in 184S, James Had- 
of President Wool- 
ant I'rofessor until 
Assistant Professor 
made a full Profes- 
1). iJana, Geology; 
Newton, Mathemat- 
fessor Stanle)', who 
in 1855, Mark l?ailey, 
tion ; in i860, Klias 
Philosopln- and As- 
Profcssor Olmsted, 
in 1863, Cyrus 
who died in 1862 ; 

who died in 1 859; 

Northrup, Rhetoric and ICnglish Literature, to succeed Professor Laruei 

also in 1863, Lewis R. Packard, Greek (Assistant Professor until 1867); in 1864, I'.dwanl B 

Coe, Modern Languages; in 1852, Professor Fitch withdrew from the Chair of Divinity which 

constituted him the College Preacher, and the place was filled from 1854 to 1 861 by George P. 

Fisher, from 1863 to 1866, by William B. Clarke and from 1867 to 1870 by Oliver E. Daggett; 

after that it remained vacant for several \ears. 

President Woolsey's term witnessed the removal by death of the older Professors in 
several Departments, most of whom had received the first appointments to their respect- 
ive chairs, and had been especially prominent in the work of organization : Of the Academ- 
ical Department, James L. Kingsley in 1852, Benjamin Silliman in 1864, Jeremiah Day 


in 1867; of the Theological Department, Nathaniel W. Taylor in 1858, Chauncey A. Good- 
rich in i860, Josiah VV. Gibbs in 1861, Elia/.ur T. Fitch in 1871 ; of the Medical Depart- 
ment, Eli Ives in 1861, Jonathan Knight in 1S64; of the Law Department, Henry Dutton 
in 1869; of the Scientific Department, John P. Norton in 1852. Any well-considered list 
of the Makers of Yale would contain most if not all of these honored names. 

It may be said here that the success of all the men who have made Yale what it 
is has been greatly promoted by the complete confidence reposed in them by the Cor- 
poration. That body has had the rare wisdom to entrust the management of each 
department to the men who were trained to their work in it, possessed direct knowledge 
of its needs, and had most at stake in its welfare. The Faculties accordingly, (within 
the unavoidable limitations of narrow financial endowments) ha\e had a practically free 
hand in administering the affairs of the institution. It is believed that Yale presents a 
unique instance among y\.merican Colleges and Universities of perfect confidence and 
harmonious co-operation between teachers and their official superiors, established in early 
times, and continued to the present day. 

The completion of the Library building in the )-car of President Woolsey's acces- 
sion to the Presidency, and the administration of the Librar\- in the new building by a 
Librarian especially chosen for that service alone, mark the rising importance of the 
Library as a feature of this period. The collection of College books, at first few in 
number and subject to \'arious vicissitudes in times of commotion and war, had been 
SLiccessivel}- housed in the attics of the original "Yale" building, the Atheneum, the 
L\xeum, and the Chapel. For about a hundred years the books were in the care of the 
Senior Tutor, then of one of the Professors, until in 1843, when the Library building was 
commenced, Mr. Herrick was chosen Librarian. This appointment, and the completion 
of the new building, marked the beginning of a new epoch in the histor}- of the Librar}-, 
in which it was to take its place on a par with the Departments of the Universit}-. This 
deserved recognition of one of the most essential parts of a well-ordered College had no 
more earnest promoter than President Woolsey. He was the second largest donor to th 
sum needed for the building, and subsequenth' presented his Greek books, one of 
the most valuable collections in the Library. It was his desire to extend the use of the 
Library among the undergraduates. A well-known remark of his, commending a student 
whom he saw coming from the Librar}- with a single book in his hand, showed the young 
men his conception of a thorough and scholarly use of books. 

The increasing size of the alumni gatherings, and the need of a hall large enough to 
accommodate a whole class at the written examinations, led to the erection of Alumni Hall in 
1853. This was followed by the Gymnasium on Library Street in 1859, in which the changed 
standards of the time were shown in the ten-pin alleys placed in it for the use of the students. 
Graduates were then living who had been disciplined in their College days for playing at the 
then prohibited ten-pins. In 1866, the Art building, the gift of Mr. Street, was completed and 
presented to the College, and quite at the close of President Woolsey's term appeared Farnam 
and Durfee Halls, presented respectively by the gentlemen whose names they bore. These 
three buildings were much the largest gifts which the College had yet received from indi\-idual 
donors, and showed in a gratif)-ing way increased interest in the College and confidence in its 
management. The two dormitories furnished much needed additional accommodation for the 
increasing number of students. The Art Building gave to the new Art School a fitting home 




at the bcs^innin^' of it!, career. The founding of this school in l866, is especially interesting as 
the first serious recognition of the aesthetic element in a liberal education at Vale. 

In the same year Mr. George Feabody of London founded the Museum of Natural His- 
tory to be connecteil with the College, but with special provision for its administration and 
future growth. It provides valuable collections of specimens in Zoology, Geology and Min- 
eralogy for use in connection with instruction in those branches. Hut it has a value beyond 
the pedagogic one, as it aims especially to encourage original research. Five >ears later the 
Winchester Observatory was founded. This also is affiliated with the College luulcr the gen- 
eral oversight of the Corporation, but has a separate Board of Managers. It is unique at Vale, 
inasmuch as it is uholl\- disassoci.itcd from the pedagogic work of the College, being devoted 

Al.LMM H.U.I. 

to original research mainly in .Astronomw Tiu- founding of tlie Art School, the Museum and 
the Observatory show impressi\-ely the widening field of ^■ale's activities during President 
\Voolse\"'s administration. 

The most important development in the educational work of the College was the establish- 
ment of the Sheffield Scientific School, and the Graduate School. While President Woolsey 
wa.s Professor of Greek, he had been prominent in encouraging students to remain after gradua- 
tion for advanced study, and the other members of the Faculty had heartily joined in the move- 
ment. Professor Silliman in particular had attracted special students to his laboratory, and his 
son had opened a private school for instruction in AnaU'tical Chcmistr\- and Mineralog}' which 
was not confined to graduates. In 1847, t'l'^ work had become sufficientl_\- important to secure 
official recognition from the Corporation. Accordingly in that year a new " Department of 
Philosoph}- and the Arts " was established, and two new Professors were appointed to work 



in it. Out of this, two sections were gradually differentiated. One of these was organized in 
1854, as the "Yale Scientific School," and in i860, its name was changed to the "Sheffield 
Scientific School," in honor of Mr. Joseph E. Sheffield, who purchased for it the Medical build- 
ing at the head of College Street, and otherwise prov^ided for it in a most liberal manner. This 
was for young men who preferred a scientific to a classical education, and was co-ordinate with 
the Academical Department. The other section was for graduate students, and offered the 
degree of Doctor of Philosophy. Its special development came in a subsequent presidential 

While these new schools were in process of formation, the Professional Schools of The- 
ology, Medicine and Law were undergoing important changes. 


For a number of years the affairs of the Divinity School were at a low ebb, owing mainly 
to lack of funds. The remov^al of its building to make room for Durfee Hall furnished the 
occasion for a vigorous appeal for funds, which was happily successful. A new and spacious 
building was erected for it at the corner of College and Elm Streets, and there, with new Pro- 
fessors of marked ability, it began a new period of its history just as President Woolsey's term 
was closing. 

The Medical School and the Law School both suffered greatly during President Woolsey's 
term from frequent changes in their Faculties, due to death and resignation. The lack of 
adequate endowments was also severely felt. The Medical School however gained in its trans- 
fer from the building on Grove Street to a new one on York Street, where it has since remained. 



The Law School was housed in an upper story of a building' on Church Street, facing' the 
Green. Like the Divinity School, it entered on a new period of prosperity at the close of 
President Woolscy's term. 

No record of the period during which President \\'oolse\- was at the head of the College 
would be complete without mention of the Civil War. The outward etifect of this war upon 
the College was much less marked than that of the Revolutionary struggle. There was no 
need now of ilispersing the students because food was scarce, nor were the College books 
packed u]) and sent to a place of safety. But the effect on the thought of the College was 
profound. The whole College, Faculty and students alike, were stirred with ])atriotic devotion 
as never before. In this no one shared more full}- than President Woolsey. .\11 the 



influences of New England ancestr>-, of intelligent devotion to the principles of ci\il liberty, 
of thorough acquaintance with the essential features of free government combined to make 
him intensely lo\al to the Union. The influence of this was deeply felt by the students who 
met him in the class-room, or listened to his earnest pra^-ers for the country in the Chapel 
at morning prayers and .Sunday service. In the adjustment of matters growing out of the 
war he rendered important service to the country by his counsel in connection with the 
Alabama Arbitration and the Fisheries Dispute. loiter, President Ha\-es offered him the 
Mission to England, but he declined it. 

The last important matter claiming the attention of President Woolsey before his retire- 
ment was a change in the structure of the Corporation. Since 1792, si.\- members of the upper 
house of the Legislature had belonged ex officio to that body. But for many years they had 


shown no interest in the affairs of the College, rarely attending the meetings of the body to 
which they nominally belonged. President Woolsey and other influential friends of the College 
thought that it would be a decided gain if these six senior Senators could be replaced by gradu- 
ates chosen by the alumni. It was hoped that the proposed new members would strengthen 
the administration of the College by bringing to it an intelligent and lively interest, and that the 
fact of their election by the alumni would stimulate the College lo>'alty of the latter. The 
Legislature readily agreed to the change which went into effect in 1871. 

President Woolsey had long contemplated withdrawing from his laborious post on reaching 
a certain age. Accordingly in 1871 he resigned, although still in the possession of his great 
powers. He was afterward chosen a member of the Corporation, where he continued to serve 
the College until his death in 1889. In attainments he had few equals. In character he was 
one of the strongest, noblest, gentlest of men — a rare combination which none fully appreciated 
except those who knew him best. 


Administration of Pre.sident Porter 

ON the resignation of President Woolsey, Professor Porter was at once chosen in his place. 
He was already well known by his important treatise on the " Human Intellect," and by 
his long and successful service at Yale. For twenty-four years he and President Woolsej- had 
been associated on the Yale Faculty, and had worked together in perfect harmony. As the 
two men had the same ideal for the College, and were in hearty agreement as to the means by 
which it should be attained, the election of President Porter was a pledge that the College would 
continue to advance along the lines of its historical development. For fifteen years he managed 
the affairs of the College with prudence and success, witnessing during that time a most gratif}'- 
ing expansion in many directions. 

One important step was taken soon after the inauguration of the new President, in the 
reorganization of the Department of Philosophy and the Arts. As before stated, that depart- 
ment was organized in 1847, '^o include the newlv^-authorized courses of instruction outside of 
the Academical and the three professional departments. During the twenty-five years since 
then, the Scientific School had developed in the direction of a second undergraduate depart- 
ment, which could be properly classed with the Academical Department. Furthermore, there 
was a desire to recognize the fact of Universit}' growth. Accordingh- the Corporation in 1872, 
made a new arrangement whereby the old Academical Department, the Sheffield Scientific 
School, the Graduate School and the Art School were grouped together in a new Department 
of Philosophy and the Arts, which with the three Professional Schools made the four historic 
Departments of a Universit}'. There was no change at this time in the corporate name of the 
institution, which remained Yale College. 

Of the various changes made under President Porter, the one which affected the under- 
graduates most directly, and was by far the most important of all, was the greatly increased 
latitude allowed to the students in the selection of their studies. So great was this increase 
in libert}' of choice that it may properly be called an introduction of the elective system, 
although some election had already been allowed for many years. This important change was 
VOL. I. — 18 



cautiously made, in a manner thoroughly characteristic of Yale conservatism, >'et it appeared 
hazardous to sonic graduates who feared that Vale traditions might be undul>- sacrificed. 

The change which election of studies made in the distribution of students among the ditfer- 
ent members of the Facult\- made necessary a change in the organization of the Academical 
Department. Hitherto all the Juniors and Seniors had recited to certain Professors, and these 
were made Division Officers of the nearly equal parts into which the classes were divided. This 
arrangement became inconvenient, so the two upper classes were placed in charge of a Dean, 
who looked after their marks, granted excuses, etc. The Dean appointed in 1884, was Henry P. 

Wright. He still dis- 
of his difficult post, 
to promote the good 
and their friends to- 
ing the past fourteen 
A notable in- 
fer various purposes 
period. At the be- 
Porter's term of office 
lege were, relati\cly 
ingly meagre. Dur- 
was a deficit of $5000, 
crisis in the affairs of 
reached. Professor 
the College needed at 
fessor Dwight pub- 
the "New Knglandcr" 
showing how the ne- 
the University would 
means were provided 
of the various Schools 
setting forth the 
versity." In these 


charges the duties 
and has done much 
feeling of the students 
ward the College dur- 

crease of endowments 
characterized this 
ginning of President 
the funds of the Col- 
to its needs, exceed- 
ing his first )'ear there 
and it looked as if a 
the College had been 
Dana declared that 
once $750,000. Pro- 
lished some articles in 
on " The New Era," 
cessary expansion of 
be checked unless 
for it. The Faculties 
published a pamphlet 
"Needs of the Uni- 
ways attention was 

called to the crisis, and much interest was awakened. At the Commencement of 1871, the 
alumni passed a resolution favoring an effort to raise $500,000 to be called the W'oolsey fund, 
to be placed at the disposal of the Corporation without restriction. A committee of ten was 
appointed, the alumni were canvassed, and the prospect of raising the desired amount seemed 
good, until the financial panic came. The sum actually obtained was $168,000, which more 
than doubled the existing general fund. In the course of President Porter's term a like sum 
came in from other sources, also to be used at the discretion of the Corporation. In addition 
to these gifts for general purposes, a number of fellowships and scholarships were endowed, 
so that their number was increased from seven to seventeen. These were for the benefit of 
Academic students or graduates, and were to be held for one, two or three years according to 
the conditions of the foundation. All were intended to stimulate good scholarship in the 
College, or to furnish means for continuing advanced work after graduation. 

Notable also were the new buildings which arose on the College square under President 
Porter. Foremost of these was the beautiful Battcll Chapel, with its twin spires and modest 



chime of bells for sounding the quarter-hours. Tiiither the College church moved on June i8, 
1876, and the former Chapel at once became " the Old Chapel," and its interior was cut up into 
lecture-rooms. Next came the Sloane Ph}sical Laboratory, presented by Mr. Henry T. Sloane 
('66) and Mr. Thomas C. Sloane ('68). It is a commodious brick building, carefully planned 
by Professor Arthur W. Wright for the use of general students and special investigators in 
Physics. After this the Kent Chemical Laboratory was presented by Mr. Albert E. Kent of 
'53. It is a handsome stone building, furnishing much needed facilities for individual work 
of students in Chemistry. As the number of students was increasing, calling for increased 
accommodations on the College square, a new dormitory, Lawrancc Hall, was built, partl\- with 
money furnished for the purpose b\- Mrs. F. C. Lnwrance of New York in memory of her son 
T. G. Lawrance who died 
Class of '84. Another 

Monroe, miiulful of the 
College, presented a 
carefully planned for use 
body, and in their several 
ligious meetings. It is 
memory of the elder 
last three buildings were 
nearh' completed during 
office, but were not ready 
had been followed by his 

The endowments of 
the Winchester Observa- 
the last chapter. The 
and work in them com- 

The fifteen }-ears 
tion witnessed greater 
cal Faculty than an\' 
ceded it. For the most 
sisted in permanent ad- 
the growth of the College and the widcnin 










while in College in the 
donor, Mr. Elbert B. 
religious needs of the 
handsome stone building, 
b}' the students in a 
classes, for voluntary re- 
called Dwight Hall in 
President Dwight. The 
presented and were 
President Porter's term of 
for occupanc)- until he 

the Peabod\'Museum and 
tory were mentioned in 
buildings were erected 
menced according to the 
President Porter's term, 
now under considera- 
changes in the Academi- 
equal period which pre- 
part these changes con- 
ditions which marked 
of its fields of instruction. But there were 
also a few resignations which perhaps indicated some weakening of the tie which for ncarl)- a 
century had with scarcely an exception bound Yale's distinguished teachers to her for life. 
The appointments to Professorships were as follows: In 1871, J. W. Gibbs, Mathematical 
Physics, and Arthur \V. Wright, Molecular Physics and Chemistr_\- ; in 1872, Franklin Carter, 
German, and William G. Sumner, Political and Social Science; in 1877, Franklin B. Dexter, 
American History, and Rev. W. M. Barbour, Divinity and College Pastorate; in 1879, Frederick 
D. Allen, Greek, and William I. Knapp, Modern Languages; in 1880, Thomas D.Seymour, 
Greek, and Tracy Peck, Latin; in 1881, Edward J. Phelps, Law (Kent Professorship in the 
Academical Department), and George T. Ladd, Mental and Moral Philosophy; in 1885, 
Frank A. Gooch, Cheniistrw A marked departure from the former practice of the College 
was also observed in the appointment of nine Assistant Professors. Down to 1871, in the 
whole history of the College on!)- four persons had borne that title. The new Assistant 




Professors were appointed as follows: In 187 1. Ku^'cnc L. Richards, Mathematics, and Henry P. 
Writ^ht, Latin; in 1S74. Henry A. Hecrs, Hn<,'lish Literature; in 1879, Kdward S. Dana, 
in 1S81, Andrew W. Phillips, Mathematics; in 1882, William Beebc, 

Natural l'hilosoph\- 


Mathematics, and Frank B. Tarbell, Greek ; in 1883, George Bendalari, Modern Languages; 
in 1885, Alfred L. Ripley, German. 

The resignations from full Professorships were the following: Professor Coe resigned in 
1879, to enter the active ministry of the gospel as Pastor of the Collegiate Reformed Church 



in New York; Professor Allen in 1880, to take a Professorship at Harvard; Professor Carter 
in 1881, to become President of Williams College; and Professor Northrup in 1884, to take the 
Presidency of the University of Minnesota. P"rom the beginning of the century until 1879, 
no person holding a full Academic Professorship had left the College to accept any position 

Serious loss came to the College by deaths in the Faculty. In 1872, occurred the death 
of the brilliant and versatile Professor Hadley, best known in the student world by his Greek 
Grammar, which was much in advance of any similar work before it. Twelve years after, in 


1884, his colleague, Professor Lewis R. Packard, also died in the prime of his life. In 1886, the 
beloved and now venerable Professor Thacher also passed away after a continuous ser\-ice of 
forty-seven years in the College. 

The Sheffield Scientific School prospered during these years. Its pecuniary resources were 
enlarged, and the number of its students greatly increased. Its principal development was in 
its undergraduate section which was coming forward rapidly as the counterpart in the field 
of science, of the Academic College in the field of letters. It lost Professor Gilman, who 
accepted the Presidency of the University of California in 1872, and General Francis A. Walker, 
his successor, who resigned in 1880 to take the Presidency of the Massachusetts Institute of 
Technology; also Professor William A. Norton, who died in 1883, after thirty-one years of 
service. A fuller account of changes in the Faculty is given elsewhere. In 1882, occurred the 
death of Mr. Sheffield, the great benefactor of the School, who continued his interest in it to 
the last, leaving it his valuable property on Hillhouse Avenue by will. 



Increased attention was given to the Graduate School, and two important appointments 
were made to its Faculty, that of Arthur T. Hadley as Professor of Political Science, and William 
R. Harper as Professor of the Semitic Languages. These appointments were made just at the 
close of President Porter's term, and their effect in increasing attendance belongs to the next 

The Professional Schools joined in the general mo\ement toward better work, especially 
for trraduates, and enjoyed a share in the prosperity of the period. An account of their 
progress is given in separate chapters. 

Turning from the official side of the University to its undergraduate life, wc find a very 
marked increase in student organized activities. It is now that Yale's modern athletic history 


begins. In 1871 the Rowing Association of American Colleges was formed. In 1876 Yale left 
it and commenced a series of annual races with Har\'ard, which after 1877 were held on the 
Thames at New London. In 1872 foot-ball was introduced at Yale, and the next year a foot-ball 
association was organized of which Yale was the leading member. In the same year occurred 
the first field games of the Yale Athletic Association at Hamilton Park. In 1879, an Intercol- 
legiate Base-ball Association was formed between Yale and other colleges. In 1881, the Yale 
Athletic P'ield was secured. This purchase, with money subscribed for the purpose by students 
and recent graduates, was a significant indication of the strong hold which athletic interests had 
within a few years secured in the University. Another most important sign of the times was 
the appearance of a daily newspaper. The " Daily News " appeared in 1878, and found a sub- 
stantial support among the students of the various schools and departments. It is safe to say 



that before President Porter's time, sucii a paper could not have existed, owing to a lack of 
common interest. The students of the different departments knew httle about each other, and 
cared less. But in the Seventies they began to act together in various ways, and the Univer- 
sity, which had long been an actual fact, began to be conscious of its own existence. 

It is evident that President Porter's term was the beginning of a new epoch in the history 
of Yale, in which it took on a new character, and put forth new energies. This awakening to 
a new life came in the administration of a warm-hearted, large-minded man who to an unusual 


degree was appreciative of progress, and eager for the advancement of the College. It came as 
a beautiful and fitting close to forty-five years of devoted service. During all that time, and 
especially during the fifteen years of his Presidenc\-, he exercised the legitimate authority of his 
position by the sentiment of regard for himself which he inspired, rather than by any exhibition 
of a masterful spirit. " Gentle, mild and gracious, never saying a harsh word, or doing an 
unkind deed," he won the well-nigh universal love of his students and associates. He resigned 
the Presidency at the Commencement of 1886, but continued to give instruction to graduates 
until near the close of his life, which came in 1893. 



Administration of President Dwight 

OX the resignation of President rortcr, Professor Dwighl of the Divinity School was at once 
chosen to take his place. The choice of a President from a Faculty other than the 
Academical was perhaps an indication that the center of gravity of the Yale system had shifted, 
owin" to the increased relative importance of the other departments. It certainl)- tended to pro- 
duce that result, for the most conspicuous feature of President Dwight's administration thus far 
has been the development of the University as distinguished from the College. For nearly 
sevent)- years the President had been one of the Faculty of the College, and to it he had gi\ en 
his almost undivided attention. The several schools as they were organized were regarded as 
appendages to the College, rather than as co-ordinate parts with it of a greater w hole. This 
opinion was expressed by President Day at the inauguration of President Woolsey, when he 
said, "The College is the appropriate sphere of the President's activity, though as a member of 
the Board of Trustees he may have a nominal relation to the Professional Departments." This 
view, although not so strongly held in 1886 as in 1846, had yet considerable vitality, and against 
it the new President set his face from the first moment of his term. As far back as 1870, he had 
proposed that the name Universit}' be adopted. At the beginning of his term, in 1886, the 
Corporation voted to take this step, and in the following j-car the name was legally assumed by 
permission of the Legislature. This tardy adoption of the name, which might with entire pro- 
priety have been taken long before, was thoroughly characteristic of Yale conservatism and hesi- 
tation to advance its own claims. The change in name from College to University marked the 
accomplishment of the plans which the elder President Dwight had formed nearly a century 
before. It was a happy circumstance that the complete realization of his hopes came in the 
administration of his grandson, under whose wise guidance during the past ten years such a 
remarkable development has been witnessed. 

The new order of things is manifested in a variety of ways. In earlier years the care and 
instruction of the Senior Class formed a large part of the President's duties. But President 
Dwight has been entirely relieved from such work, except as he may voluntarily lecture. This 
is from one point of view a source of regret, since some personal contact of students with the 
President is greatly to be desired. But it is inevitable, in view of the growth of the institution, 
and the enlarged conception of the President's relations to its different departments. So far 
from holding a merely nominal relation to most of them, he is now the acknowledged head 
of all, attending their Faculty meetings, and acquainting himself with their several needs. 
In meeting these, the aim is to apply whatever funds are at the unrestricted disposal of the 
Corporation in such a way as to strengthen the weaker departments promptlj-, rather than 
leave them to wait for specific donations. This tends to a realization of the essential equality 
of the departments in the University system. Partly as a result of this, departments which were 
once considered as of quite minor importance are now strong and thoroughly respected, and a 
sentiment of common interest pervades the whole institution. This is shown in the better 
acquaintance of the Faculties with each other, and the spirit of mutual helpfulness among the 
various bodies of students. Quite important in this connection has been the opening of courses 
in one department to students in another. Thus a highly valued course in Biology in the Shef- 



field School has been opened to Academic students, and courses in the Art School have also 
been arranged for them and offered as electives. The possibilities of thus broadening the cur- 
riculum of a department with the greatest efficiency and least expense are evidently considerable 
and it is quite possible that a notable extension of the practice already commenced may be com- 
ing in the near future. 

An important indication of the higher relations of the University to other colleges is seen 
in the number of institutions represented in the various schools. Thus in the Catalogue of 
1896-97 the 
Colleges rep- 
the Graduate 
six ; in the Di- 
fifty-seven ; in 
ical School, 

A recent 
most clearly 
velopmcnt of 
versity is that 
made in the an- 
ment. The tra- 
mencement was 
sion on which 
class of the old 
displav'ed be- 
given to the 
class in the form 
mciits " which 
point of honor 
according to 
success in se- 
marks. Regard 
giving the e.x- 
character, so as 
greater interest 
tention of the 
the formal "ora- 

sertations " were interspersed with the somewhat more sprightly " disputes " and " colloquies," 
in which two students stood facing each other in the side galleries of the Center Church, and 
alternately hurled at each other their opposing views on the subject in hand over the heads of 
the audience. While the College was small, all could be given an opportunity to speak, and 
of course the relatives and friends of the speakers turned out in force to hear and admire. 
Not only these, but the public generally was interested. Indeed, in the absence of circuses 
in those primitive times, Commencement was one of the great days of the year, and the rural 
population as well as the town-folk were attracted so that a good audience was assured. 


number of 
resented in 
School is sixty- 
vinity School, 
the Law School, 
and in theMed- 

change \\hich 
marks the de- 
Yale into a Uni- 
which has been 
nual Commence- 
ditional Com- 
the great occa- 
the graduating 
College was 
fore the public, 
to speak were 
members of the 
of "appoint- 
were graded in 
and awarded 
the student's 
curing high 
was also paid to 
ercises a varied 
to secure the 
and better at- 
audience. Thus 
tions"and "dis- 


When the classes became larger, it was impossible to give all a chance, so an appearance on 
the stage became a perquisite of the higher appointments. But the length of the exercises con- 
tinued to be a prominent feature. There were two sessions in Center Church, morning and 
afternoon. At the close of the morning session, the bulk of the male portion of the audience, 
consisting of graduates, withtlrew to partake of the annu.d dinner, after which the}- went back to 
the church to hear the rest of the speakers. In the mean time, the ladies, who occupied the 
galleries, ate their luncheons which they had brought with them so that they need not lose their 
scats by going home to dinner. It ma}- nt)t be out of place to add that the great da}- ahva}-s 
ended in time for supper. In 1868 the speaking was confined to the forenoon, and the number 
of speakers was cut down about one-half. But in spile of this concession to modern degenerac}' 
the public interest in Commencement visibly waned, until in iSyi, an eliurt was made to revive 
it by improving the quality of the speaking. l-"or this purpose, the speakers selected were the 
De Forest and Townscnd prize men. 1?}- this change, the exercises in the church lost complete]}- 
their significance as a recognition of, and reward for, good scholarship; for the best writers 
and speakers, who were now brought forwaril, might stand quite low on tiie l-acult}- books. 

Meantime the Sheffield School had its separate Commencement, at which the Seniors 
presented theses more or less technical and dr}- on scientific subjects in their \arious lines of 
work. But it became more and more evident that the propriet}- and interest of all these grad- 
uating exercises belonged to an earlier period, and that something more in keeping with modern 
conditions must be devised. Accordingly in 1895, an entirely new character was given to Com- 
mencement, b}- which it ceased to be an exhibition of undergraduates, and became strictly 
a Univcrsit}- occasion for the conferring of degrees. At this Commencement, the graduates 
formed in line on the College square, marched out in procession on the Green, then back to 
the College square, and into the Battell Chapel. There choice music was rendered, composed 
for the occasion by Professor Parker, and a noble ode b}- Kchuund Clarence Steadman of the 
Class of '53 was sung. President Duight then deli\ered a short address, after which came the 
conferring of degrees. The bod}- of the Chapel was nearh- filled with the graduating classes 
of the different schools, it having been made a requirement that all who recei\ed degrees must 
be i)resent, unless excused. Representatives of the undergraduate classes mounted the plat- 
form and received the diplomas for their classes. The recipients of the graduate degrees then 
came forward and intlisiduall}- received their di])lonias. i\niong the Doctors of Philosophy 
were a number of }'oung women, whose presence was greeted with enthusiasm b\- the }oung 
men. When all the degrees " in course " had been conferred, the time came for the honorary 
degrees. I'^ach recipient of an honorary degree in his turn stood forth on the ])latform, while 
Professor I'isher of the l)i\inity School introduced him to the President and Corporation in 
a few- well-chosen words, setting forth the grounds upon which he had been selected to receive 
the honor. The popularity of the recipient was indicated by the ajiplause called forth at the 
mention of his name. 

The whole occasion was an impressive one, and in e\'erv wa}- worth}- of the University. 
The attendance of graduates was large, and the general verdict was that the new Commence- 
ment was a great improvement on the old one. One item of interest, and doubtless of regret 
to many, w-as the abandonment of the Center Church on the Green. For the first time in 
more than one hundred and fifty years the procession had passed In- the church without en- 
tering it. But a larger audience room was needed, and this was furnished by the College 
Chapel, which is now the largest church in the city. But e\-en this proved to be much too small 



for the occasion, so that the President's repeated calls in his annual reports for a larger build- 
ing for University occasions and alumni gatherings was strongly reinforced. 

During these ten }-ears the courses of stud)' in the dilTerent parts of the University have 
been given notable extension. In the College, the courses open to Juniors and Seniors have 
been increased from ninety-two in 1886, to one hundred and sixty-seven in 1896. An important 
change has also been made in the studies of Sophomore year, which are no longer wholly 
required as formerly. Of the six studies pertaining to that year, namely, Latin, Greek, Mathe- 
matics, French, or German, English and Physics, students are now called upon to choose five. 
In the Sheffield School, the groups of studies offered to Juniors and Seniors have been in- 
creased from eight to ten. In the Divinity School, some electives have been added to the regular 


course, which for obvious reasons remains essentially a required one. In the Law School, the 
course of stud\- has been lengthened from two to three years, and in the Medical School from 
three to four years. In the Graduate School, a notable forward step was taken in 1891, when the 
courses leading to the degree of Doctor of Philosophy were opened to women. By this move 
Yale, first among New P^ngland Universities, offered the full advantages of advanced instruction 
to graduates of women's colleges who might wish a more extended training than their own 
colleges afforded. 

In the Department of Philosophy and the Arts, a new school has been organized, namely, 
the School of Music. This step is as noteworthy as was the organization of the Art School in 
President Woolsey's time. It marks with increased emphasis the wider appreciation of culture 
at the University when beauty of form and color and sound are all considered worthy of study 
for their own sake, and are given places of equal honor b}- the side of the more severel\- dis- 


ciplinary and utilitarian studies. A still greater inroad upon the ancient Puritan regime, one 
which would doubtless have startled the stern founders of the College, was the honorable recog- 
nition of the actor and his calling in the invitation given to Mr. Joseph Jefferson to lectu.'-e on 
his art in the Art Course of 1892. 

The thawing of the ancient reserve of Vale in its communications to the public is worthy 
of notice. President Uwight at once commenced the practice of publishing an annual report, 
copies of which are wideh- distributed, wherein the condition of the Uni\-ersity during the }-ear 
is frankly made public. Especiall>- in the matter of pecuniary needs lie has not hesitated to 
make known Vale's povcrt)-, relativel}- to the demands made upon her. The reports make calls 
for large sums of money, which have been at times absolutely essential to the prosperity of 
some vital part of the institution. It is interesting to note the frequency with which an urgent 
call of this character, or even a remark that a certain building or endowment was needed, has 
been followed in a subsequent report b\' the announcement that the need has been supplied. 
This would seem to be a vindication of the President's wisdom in taking the public into his 
confidence. Perhaps in the same line of a desire to communicate more frcel)- with the ]niblic 
may be mentioned the fact that the Triennial Catalogue was in 1892 for the first time published 
in a language that all could understand. 

The latest expression of ^'ale's desire to extend her usefulness, especiall}' to the people of 
the State with which she is so intimatel}' connected, is the establishment of lecture courses for 
teachers of public and prixatc schools in Connecticut. In the academic year 1896-97, courses 
of twenty-four lectures each were given in Psychology and Pedagogy, Political and Social Science, 
History, English, Greek and Biolog)'. They were well attended, and their success was such as 
to warrant their continuance. 

While opportunities for study have been multiplied, increased recognition and encourage- 
ment of scholarly attainments have been quite marked. No less than thirty-eight foimdations in 
all departments ha\-e been added, the incomes from which are awarded to Fellows and Scholars 
annuall}'. Some of them are iiitt-ndcil to help needy and deser\ing students, whom it has 
al\va)-s been the desire of Vale to attract and keep, when they have in them the making of use- 
ful men. Others are given as rewards of high attainments, regardless of pecuniary needs. 
Most encouraging is the appearance of a new group of endowments, with much larger incomes 
than the old-time scholarships, the object of which is to enable the holder to pursue his studies 
in foreign lands, or with a liberal margin for travel and purchase of books. The enlightened 
policy of these liberal provisions is doubtless destined to bear important fruit in the future. 

The recent, though still very moderate, endowment of the Library is a matter of general 
congratulation. To no part of the l'iii\ersity equipment has the President called more urgent 
attention, so obvious has been its inadequacy, so great its need of a permanent and independent 
income. Yet until within a few j'ears the endowment of this vital part of a great institution of 
learning has been less than one hundred thousand dollars. This amount was trebled in 1896 
by the receipt of a legac\' from the estate of Mr. Thomas C. Sloane, so that the Library now has 
a funii, the income of which will enable it to approach more near!}- than heretofore the standard 
of efificiency which is so greatly needed. 

To the general public, probably no feature of President Dwight's term is more striking 
than the changes which have taken place in the appearance of the College square. When he 
was inaugurated the Old Hrick Row was intact, and the greater part of the College square had 
remained unchanged for twenty years. During that time, the north end and the northeast 





corner liatl been enclosed by the erection of Diirfcc, Battcll Chapel and I-\ ; also Dwight 
and Lawrancc were completed shortly after his inauguration. But the south end between 
South College and the Art Building was open, and passers-by on Chapel Street could see the 
whole interior of the square, with the old Chemical Laboratory, the Cabinet Building and the 
Treasury between the brick row and the incomplete line of buildings on High Street. On 
the cast there was nothing to obstruct the view of the beautiful Green from the windows 
of South, South Middle and North Middle; and, dear to the student's heart, the I'ence was 
still standing in all its glory at the corner of Chapel and College. Hut changes soon 
began which have continued with hardly an interruption to the present time, bj- which sc\eral 


of the old familiar buildings have disappeared, and a remarkable number of stately edifices 
have been added, making Yale's equipment in this respect unsurpassed by that of any 
institution in the land. 

In his fust annual report, President Dwight was able to announce Mrs. Osborn's gift of 
a large sum of money for the erection of a building for lecture and recitation purposes, and 
Mr. Chittenden's gift, nearly as large, for a new Library. ]k)th buildings were commenced in 
1888; the former was finished and ready for use in the fall of 1889, the latter in the summer 
of 1890. Osborn Hall was placed in front of South College, the choice of that location being 
made by the donor, and carr\ing with it the removal of the fence. The Library was placed on 
High Street between the Art Building and the old Library, nearly completing the row on that 
side of the College square. The same report announced the beginning of the Kent Chemical 
Laboratory, for which the money had been presented before. This building stands off of the 



College square on the corner of High and Library Streets, and was completed in 1888. The old 
Chemical Laboratory, now completely superseded, was removed in the same year, and in 1890 
the old Cabinet Building, which was no longer needed as a reading-room after the new Library 
was completed, was also removed. 

In 1889, the Sheffield School came into possession of the Sheffield mansion, and it was at 
once converted into a Biological Laboratory. In the same year the President could announce 
that most of the sum needed for a new Gymnasium had been subscribed, and that the build- 
ing had been commenced. It was completed in 1893. It is a noble building, standing on 
Elm Street less than a block from the northwest corner of the College square, and is especially 
valued as a gift to the University from a large number of its graduates. The completion of the 
new Gymnasium set free the old one on Library Street, and its interior was at once remodelled 
to serve as a dining-hall. Here the College undertook once more to furnish ph}-sical nourish- 
ment to its students, not as a required exercise as in the older days, but as an up-to-date 
elccti\'c. The aim has been to provide good healthful food at a moderate price, and in this 

a success, if we may judge 
has received, applications 
being alwaj-s in excess 
of the building, which 

health and ph\-sical de- 
dents shown in the erec- 
found its counterpart in 
them in time of sickness, 
ladies residing in New 
interested themselves in 
an Infirmary, and raised 
lot was purchased on 

the enterprise has been 
from the patronage it 
for places at the tables ^'!ff 
of the seating capacity '^"^t 
is somewhat over four 
The care for the 
velopment of the stu- 
tion of the Gj'mnasium 
the provision made for 
In 1 89 1, a number of 
Haven and New York 
the matter of building 
the necessary funds. A 


Prospect Street, in a high and healthful part of the city, and in 1893 an attracti\-e and home-like 
building was erected there for the use of students in time of sickness. The beneficence of this 
provision so thoughtfully made has been apparent from the beginning. Among such a large 
body of young men away from their homes, and liable to be careless of their health, there is 
almost constant use for a place like the " Yale House," where the)' can find the quiet and 
attention which could be secured with difficulty, if at all, in their hired rooms. 

In 1890, Mr. Pierce N. Welch of the Class of 1862 generously offered to erect a new- 
dormitory on the College Street side of the square, between Osborn and Lawrance. The 
work on this buikling was commenced the following year, and was completed in 1892. During 
the summer of the same year, a building on Elm Street opposite Durfee Hall owned by 
the College was fitted up as a Psychological Laboratory, and has since then furnished a valu- 
able opportunity for the investigation of mental phenomena. By the close of the year the 
new Winchester Hall was ready for the use of the Engineering Department of the Scientific 
School. Thus the year 1892, witnessed the completion of four new buildings, and the adapta- 
tion of two old ones to new uses. Two of the new ones, the Gymnasium and the Yale House, 
were for the use of students in any department of the Universit}-. 

In 1893, Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt announced their desire to build a dormitory 
on the College square as a memorial of their son, William Hcnr\- Vanderbilt, who had been 



a member of the Class of iSy3 aiul liad died in his Junior year. The vacant space on Chapel 
Street east of the Art Uuildiny was enlarged by the removal of South College and the 
Atheneum, and here during the years 1893 and '94 a large and beautiful stone building was 
erected. .\nother generous gift was made at the same time b\ Dr. .\nilicw J. While of 
New York, who signified his wish to build a dormitorv. J'or this a location was assigned on 
the northeast corner o( Mini and High .Streets, and the building was in process of erection 
simultaneously with \'anderbilt Hall. A third dormitory was built at the same time by the 
College with the design of fuinishing rooms at a moderate rent. It is named Jicrkele)- Hall, 
in honor of Vale's earl\' benefactor, and appears as an extension of White Hall. Tliese 


three buildings were ready for occupancy in the fall of 1894. This large increase in the 
number of rooms for students made it possible to dispense with another of the old brick 
buildings, so North Middle was taken down in the course of the summer. 

During the summer vacation of 1893, the Battell Chapel was enlarged by an addition 
on the south side to accommodate the steadily increasing numbers. At the same time the 
Medical Building on ^'ork Street was renovated, and its interior rearranged for more effective 
use. During this year also a new Chemical Laboratory, greatly needcil b\- the Medical School, 
was put up in the rear of the old building. 

The need of a new building for the Law School attracted attention carl>- in President 
Dwight's term. In iSgi, a commanding site was purchased for it on ICIni Street facing the 
Green, and in tiie course of a few \-ears money was secured for the building. The erection 
of the latter was commenced in 1894, and it was completed as far as the present plan called 



for in 1895. The portion finished however is only the rear part of the whole structure which 
is contemplated. At the same time the pressing need of the Sheffield School for more room 
was met by the erection of a new Chemical Laboratory, which was also ready for use in 1895. 
This made the old Sheffield Hall a\ailable for other purposes, and it accordingly underwent 
important changes, one of which was the fitting up of a fireproof room for the Eaton Herba- 
rium. In 1S95, the church on College Street near Chapel was purchased. It furnishes 
a greatly needed audience room for public addresses and concerts. In 1896, a new dormitory 
was built on York Street and named Pierson Hall in honoi- of the first Rector of Yale. The 


same \-ear witnessed the com[)letion of Phelps Hall, tlie beautiful lower between I.awrance 
and Welch Halls. 

P^rom this enumeration It will be seen that since President Dwight assumed his office, 
fifteen new buildings ha\e been erected, si.x of which are stone and nine brick. One building 
has come to the University by bequest, one by purchase, one has been enlarged and three 
have undergone considerable interior alteration. i\s incidental to the additions on the College 
square, six of the old brick Ijuildings have been remo\ed. No such epoch of building has 
ever before been known at Yale. The number of buildings which have been added to the 
University equipment during these ten \-ears is just equal to the whole number of public 
buildings in its possession from the foundation of the College to the close of the Civil War 
in 1865. Especiall}- to be noticed is the near approach to completion of the new quadrangle. 
For this, President Dwight has earnestl\- hoped and labored. 

VOL. I. — 19 



The fjain in material wcaltli iliiriiitj the ten years has been over four niillit)n dollars. But 
a good deal of this is in buililings, the care of which involves considerable ex])ense, and 
another larjje portion lias been gv\en for si)ecific purposes. The productive projjert)' of the 
Univcrsitv, the income of which can be used at the discretion of the Corporation, is still far 
short of what it urgent!)' needs. The experience of other institutions of learning has been 
repeated here, in the circumstance that the large sum mentioned above has come mainly 
from a few wealth)' frienils. Hcfore 1886, but one conspicuous benefactor had appeared, 

namely, Mr. Shef- jZiit.'- \^^K\{^M1\ ;sn I^^H ^^B field, who remains 

the largest indi- '*^- " WBell WjI Z^^' IBW Mi vidual donor in 

the history of the f^^^^5|Wf^a»iWJ^»«=*p«W College. Since 

1888. four donors 4,,^^a4^j^a(|5g^^::,^^^ of more than a 

made the Univer- '?^ \^^^^l^^^^^5^^fc^Lj^'^^'2(^^^ sity the recipient 

of their bount)', ,J} ' j^^^^^^^/^^^^^^^^^^C ^ namely. Professor 

L o o m i s , T^^fl^Bl^HlHHl^l^^i^^^ >^)»«^' 'Gliomas C. Sloane, 

'Sir. Daniel 1?. ^^K^f \ji^^^^I^^^kS\''^ '^' ]*'aycrweather and 

Mr. Cornelius ^F^^Ktx j^^d^^^^Blt^ma^^^^ \%'4 Vanderbilt. But 

able to do so 1^W|^^^^^^BB^^^^W 1 J5 i ^ ^ 

have by their J^Kf^^^^pMHY^^^^H'^TC'^^ smaller gifts sh..wn 

j^B ^^^^^^'^^^ JB^^^H University. 

J ^H I ^^^Hp-^'f^^ jVvj^^l beyond comi)uta- 

bar ^■■SB^^H < 'l^^l ^LV ^'^' 

cially manifested ^ '-^^^^^HP^jj^^^^^H i^^i[|^L 

the Gymnasium, K T^^^^^J^fetSia JSI^9I ^'''-' ' " <"' ''"ary, 

and the Alumni "^S^B^^ Fund. 

The growing I)ropcrt\' of the 

University brings ;„,,, increasing 

prominence the oftke of Treasurer. 

This oflke, so vital to the prospcritv 

C .. . ^., ,. V.VXUERnil.T .ARCHWAY ' ' 

of the mstitution, lias always been 

administered with conspicuous fidelity and wisdom. It would jirobabl)- be difficult to find 
another instance in the history of this country where trust fiunls have been managed for 
such a length of time with so little loss, and on the whole with such fair returns. At the 
beginning of President Dwight's term, the office was left vacant by the death of Mr. Kingsley, 
and President Dwight assumed temporary charge of it. In 1S8S, the Corporation elected as 
Treasurer Mr. William \V. Karnam, who worthily maintains the high standard of an oflfice 
which has been held by Roger Sherman, James Hillhouse and Henry C. Kingsley. 

While the large number of new buildings is likely to attract attention first, the increase of 
men, both students and teachers, is of course a better measure of the true growth of the Univer- 
sity, and this has been most striking during the past ten years. In 1886-87, the whole number 
of students in the Academical Department was 570; in the Sheffield Scientific School, it was 



279; in the Divinity School, 108; in the Medical School, 27; in the Law School, 79; in the 
Graduate School, 56; and the number of instructors was 114. In 1896-97, the students in the 
Academical Department numbered 1237, making it larger than the whole University, Faculty 
included, ten years before; in the Sheffield Scientific School, they numbered 553; in the 
Divinity School, 104; in the Medical School, 138; in the Law School, 213 ; in the Graduate 
School, 227; and the Faculty list had grown to 238. From these figures it will be seen that 
the Academical Department has more than doubled in the last ten years ; the Sheffield School 
is almost exactly twice as large; the Divinit\- School has substantiall}- held its own; the Medi- 
cal School has multiplied fivefold, the Law School nearly threefold, the Graduate School four- 
fold ; and the bod)' of instructors has a little more than doubled. At the Commencement of 


1897, degrees were conferred in course upon 660 persons, which is a little more than the whole 
number (646) who graduated from the College during the first fifty years of its existence. A 
few figures will show the growth during one hundred )-ears. When the first fiill Catalogue was 
printed in 1796, the whole number of students was 117. At the close of President Dwight's 
term in 1817 it was 329; at the close of President Day's in 1846 it was 558; at the close of 
President Woolsey's in 1871 it was 755 ; at the close of President Porter's in 1886 it was 1076; 
in 1896 it was 2495. 

The accessions of Professors and Assistant Professors in the Academical Department have 
been as follows: In 1888, George B.Adams, Historv, Horatio M.Reynolds and Thomas D. 
Goodell, Greek; in 1889, William R. Harper (alread_\- University Professor of Semitic Lan- 
guages), Biblical Literature, Albert S. Cook, P'nglish ; in 1890, t'dward T. McLauchlin, Eng- 
lish, Edward B. Clapp, Greek, Charles H. Smith, American History; in 1891, George M. 


Duncan. Mental and Moral I'hilosopln-. Arthur T. IIadlc>-, Political ICconomy, Kdward V. Mor- 
ris Latin \rtiu.r H. I'almcr. Gorman; in 1892. Jules Luquiens, French, (,ustav I-.Gruencr. 
German Frank K. Sanders, Biblical Literature (in place of Professor Harper, resi-ned), Henry 
S Williams Geolo.n-; in 189?, Hernadotte Perrin, Greek, John C. Schwab, Political Lconomy, 
Henry R Lang, Romance Languages. li. Hershcy Sneath, Mental and Moral Philosoph>', 

PHtLl's UAI.U 

Irving Fisher, Mathematics, transferred in 1S95 to Political Science; in 189;, Edward G. 
Bourne, History; in 1S96. William 1.. Phelps, English, Hanns Ocrtel, Comparative Philology, 
James P. Pierpont, Mathematics; in 1897, Oliver H. Richardson, History, James W. I). Tngcr- 
soll, Latin; in 1898, Charlton ^L Lewis, English, Charles S. Baldwin, Rhetoric, Philip i:. 
Browning, Chemistry. In addition to the Professors and Assistant Professors here named, an 
increased number of Tutors, Instructors and Assistants have by their zeal and efficient services 
contributed largely to the usefulness and success of the College. 



The Academical Department has lost by resignation, Professors William I\I. 15aibour who 
left the College pastorate in 1887, and became Principal of the Congregational College in Mon- 
treal; William R. 1 larper, who resigned in i8yi to become President of Chicago Universit)' ; 
and William J. Knapp, who left in i8y2 and went to Chicago University. Also Assistant 
Professors I'rank H. Tarbell, who went to Harvard at the expiration of his term of service in 
1887; Alfred L. Riplev, who resigned in 1888; ami Mdward 15. Clapp, who accepted the 
Professorship of Greek at the University of California in 1893. 

The obitiiar>' record of these ten >-ears includes a remarkable number of \ale's best known 
teachers anil administrators, who achieved distinction b)- long service or eminent attainments. 

The following is the 
December 19, 1886, 
for twenty - four 
Treasurer of the 
o\er its interests 
fidelity and good 
13, 1887, Nathaniel 
worth)' representa- 
portion of the Cor- 
keen, conscientious, 
minded managers 
ful care the College 
has expanded 
all)- into the Uni- 
March 23, 1888. 
Chief-Justice of the 
time of his death a 
poration. Jul)' 5, 
Woolsej'.who at the 
dency of twenty-five 
usual degree left the 
ministrative abiiitj' 
and of his strong 
ter upon his pupils. 
Elias Loomis, for 


record of deaths. 
Henrj' C. Kingsle)-, 
years the efficient 
College, watching 
\\ilh conspicuous 
judgment, (ktobcr 
J. lUirton, D.D., a 
ti\e of the clerical 
])oration, tlinse 
painstaking, broad- 
under whose watch- 
of the last century 
(|uictl)' and natiir- 
\ersity of to-da)-. 
Morrison R. Waitc, 
United States, at the 
nu'niber of the Cor- 
18S9, Theodore D. 
close of his Presi- 
\ears had to an uii- 
im])ress of his ail- 
upon the College, 
and upright charac- 
August 5, 1889, 
twenty-nine j'cars a 

Professor in the College, known throughout the United States for his extensive .series of mathe- 
matical text-books, and as the highest authoritj- on meteorology, who closed a long life of 
devotion to scientific pursuits by leaving his ample fortune for the endowment of the Winchester 
Observatory. January 20, 1890, Chester S. I.yman, who was for thirty jears Professor of 
Astronomy and I'hysics in the Sheffield Scientific School, an earnest and efficient teacher, 
highlj- respected and trusted b>- his jnipils and colleagues, whom he was ever ready to aid 
and encourage. June 17, 1890, Mr. Thomas C. Sloane, member of the Corporation, one of 
the most devoted friends and largest benefactors of the College. March 4, 1892, Noah Porter, 
who during his long period of service in the College, thirtj' years as Professor and fifteen as 
President, had won to an unusual degree the affectionate regard of his pupils. June 17, 1894, 
William Dwight Whitney, University Professor of Sanskrit and Comparative Philolog}', one 



of the great scholars of the age, who during forty j-ears of service at Yale was an inspiring 
teacher and helpful friend to all who were so fortunate as to count themselves his pupils. 
June 17, 1894, William Walter Phelps, one of the first six representatives of the graduates on 
the Corporation, who by successive re-elections remained in the Corporation for twenty years, 
one of its most valued members, a typical Vale man, full of love for and faith in Yale, 
declining a re-election at last only because his appointment as United States Minister to 
Germany made it impossible for him longer to discharge his duties on the Corporation, and 
whose memory is worthih' perpetuatctl in one of the stateliest of \'alc's new buildings. April 
13' '895' James Dwight Dana, one of the foremost scholars of the world in his chosen field 

of geology and min- 
years, but with man)- 
count of ill health, 
to by Yale classes 
fortune to receive his 
lightful lectures. 
C. I''aton, for thirty- 
Professor of Botany, 
his studies in botany, 
herbarium, the con- 
which has been for- 
b}' its presentation to 
tific School. August 
Newton, honored 
in I'^uropc and 
ginal researches into 
of meteors, and best 
ing his fort)' years of 
of Mathematics for 
his pupils, man)' of 
to remember his 
ness. December 12, 
Sanford, M.D., for 
Professor of Anat- 

in the Medical School, one of the most eminent of New Haven's pln'sicians, and greatly 
beloved for his gentle and generous traits of character. This list of honored men should 
include two who died in the prime of life, yet not before they gave promise of careers of 
more than ordinary usefulness: April 20, i8gi, James K. Thacher, M.D., the gifted son of 
Professor Thacher, for eleven \'ears Professor in the Medical School, who occupied a leading 
place in the profession; July 25, 1893, Edward T. McLauchlin, who had just won his appoint- 
ment as Professor of Rhetoric after several years of work most honorable to himself and 
inspiring to his pupils. 

In these pages the development of Yale from a small Collegiate School to a great University 
has been briefly traced. Attention has been given mainly to the official side of the College, with 
which the successive Presidents ha\'c had most to do. For the sake of preserving the continuity 
of the account, little has been said of the inner life of the College, religious, literary, athletic, and 


eralogy, for forty 
interruptions on ac- 
most eagerly listened 
who had the good 
instructive and de- 
June 29, 1895, Daniel 
one )'ears Uni\ersit)' 
and well known for 
and for his valuable 
tinned usefulness of 
tunately preserved 
the Sheffield Scien- 
12, 1896, Hubert A. 
amongscientific men 
America for his ori- 
the origin and orbits 
known at Yale dur- 
service as Professor 
his kindl)' interest in 
whom have reason 
ever- ready helpful- 
I 896, Leonard J. 
twent)'-five years 
om)' and Ph)siology 



social. These features will claim separate atteiilion. Chapters will also be given to the diftcrcnt 
departments, so that the continuous development of each may be seen. 

The record has been mainly one of change, as a record of organic growth must always be; 
at first slow and faltering, then more rapid, culminating in the remarkable development of the 
last ten \'ears. Hut there are some things in which, fortunately^ Yale has not changed. The old 
loyalty to the College remains. The manliness of the students has not succumbed to the sup- 
posed enervating influences of brow n-stone ilormitories and comfortable rooms. The democratic 
spirit survives, with its just award of honors to merit rather than wealth. I'resident Uwight has 
called attention to this, and congratulated the friends of Yale on the fact " that as the stutlent 
community rapidl\' grows in its numbers, and changes of various kinds necessaril)- occur in its 
daily life and working, the Yale spirit abides alwa\s the same, breathing itself intn tlu- mind and 
heart of every worthy student who enters the gates of the University, and inspiring for their 
career ever afterwards all who go forth with its gifts into the acti\-ities of the world. This spirit 
is the inheritance which is recei\ed from the earliest days of the histor\- of the institution, and 
which is passed on, as the best of our possessions, from one generation of manl_\- students to 
another. It is this spirit which, more than all things else, makes the L'ni\ersitv what it is." 





The Academical Department 

THE Academical Department is the old College under a somewhat awkward name 
which is applied to it when there is occasion to distinguish it from other portions 
of the University. There was no need of any such designation until the Medical School 
was organized in 1813, and it did not actually come into use until later. Books I and 
III of this narrative pertain largely to the College, so that little remains to be said 
of it as an " Academical Department." But it was found that the course of study 
could best be treated as a whole, instead of under successive administrations, so that has 
been reserved for consideration in this chapter. 

The catalogue of 1822 was the first one containing a statement of the course of 
study, and that date corresponds nearly enough with the time when the College began 
to appear as an Academical Department. We may therefore start with the course of 1822, 
It was briefly as follows : 

Freshmen — Murray's English Grammar, Morse's Geography, Arithmetic, Algebra, Livy 
and Graeca Majora. 

Sophomores — Geography, Euclid, Day's Mathematics (which included Plane Trigo- 
nometry), Conic Sections, Spherical Geometr\-, Cicero, Horace, Homer and Rhetoric. 

Juniors — Spherical Trigonometry, Astronomy, Cicero, Tacitus, Grjeca Majora, Enfield's 
Philosophy, Tytler's History, and an option of Fluxions, Greek or Latin in the third term. 

Seniors — Rhetoric, Logic, Locke's Essay, Stewart's Philosophy of the Mind, and 
Paley's works on Natural Theolog>', Moral Philosophy and Evidences of Christianity. 

Lectures were given to Juniors on Natural Philosoph}-, to Seniors on Chemistry, 
Mineralogy, Geology and Natural Philosophy, and to different classes on Languages, 
Rhetoric and Oratory. Sophomores and Juniors had frequent exercises in English Com- 
position, and Juniors and Seniors in Forensic Disputations once or t\vice a ^\■eek, with 
exercises in declamation, sometimes before the Faculty and students in the chapel. 

The three studies which are now universally relegated to schools of the lower 
grades, namely, English Grammar, Geography and Arithmetic, did not remain long after 
they were first mentioned in the catalogue. The first t^vo disappeared in 1826, and the 
third in 1830. In 1825, Euclid was put down into Freshman year, and Spherical Trigo- 
nometry into Sophomore year. Changes were also made from time to time in the 
classical authors read ; Sophocles, Euripides, Demosthenes, Juvenal and others being 




Four additions to the course during these years arc worth}- of special notice. They 
were, a Modern Language (French) in 1825, Pohtical Economy in the same year, Kent's 
Commentaries on American Law in 1833, and Modern History mentioned for the first 
time in 1847, though some attention ma)- have been given to it before in the study of 
Tytler's General llistor}-. These dates are important in the history of education at Yale. 
The eighteenth century course, so largely theological, as noted in a former chapter, had 
given way to one mainly classical and mathematical. Tiiat in its turn was now gradually 
broadened by the introduction of studies which opened the \vi\y to acquaintance with 
modern thought and life. 


During these and the few succeeding years, there was a moderate increase in the 
number of lecture courses, but the main dependence was on books, from which les- 
sons were learned to be recited in what was often rather a mechanical way. An almost 
whimsical indication of this is the announcement made in the catalogues from 1847 to 
1862, that the Juniors would take "Olmsted's Astronomy, to the planets," during the third 
term. That is, for sixteen years the Juniors recited just up to a certain chapter, then 
put a mark in the book to begin again at that point the next term. The lectures, 
which were practically confined to Junior and Senior years, were regarded by the 
students rather in the light of treats, to be enjoyed but not to be taken very seriously. 
The student who voluntarily followed them up with a collateral course of reading was 
an exception. In Natural Philosophy, the experimental lectures were what would now be 
called a " show course," intended mainly to illustrate the text-book lessons from week 
to week. Options were exceedingly scarce. Until 1854, they were confined to the third 





term of Junior year. After that they ran through the year, with Calculus, Latin or Greek 
in the first two terms, and French or German in the third term, and this continued 
until the real introduction of the elective system. This came in 1876 and 1884. 

In 1876, the studies placed in the four afternoon hours per week of Junior and 
Senior years were made elective. Twelve courses were offered, in five groups, namely, 
Philosophy, History and Political Science, Mathematics and Astronomy, Molecular and 
Terrestrial Physics and Natural Science and Geology. This moderate allowance of electives 
was tentative, and introductory to the next expansion, which was much more important. 


In 1884, out of fifteen hours per week, eight were made elective in Junior year, 
and twelve in Senior \-ear. That is, all the studies of Junior year were made elective 
except Physics, Astronomy, Logic, Geology and Psychology, and all those of Senior year 
except Psychology, Ethics, Natural Theology and Evidences of Christianity. Sixt>--one 
courses were offered in seven groups as follows : Mental and Moral Science four, Politi- 
cal Science fi\e, History seven, IModern Languages twelve, Classics and Linguistics sixteen, 
Natural and Phvsical Science nine. Mathematics eight. 


The seven required hours of Junior year were reduced in 1888 to six, in 1S92 to 
five, and in 1893 to three. These cliangos left only Logic, Ps>cholog>' and Ethics as 
required studies, and such they still remain. The three required hours in Senior year 
were in 1890 reduced to two, which must be chosen in one course out of four speci- 
fied courses of those offered in Psychology, Ethics and Philosophy, and this requirement 


The seven groups of elective courts have been increased to twelve, by the addition 
of Music in 1890, Fine Arts in 1891, Biblical Literature in 1892, Physical Education in 
1893, and Military Science in 1895. 


In 1893, a modified form of election was introduced into Sophomore year. The 
studies of that year were arranged in six groups, namely, Latin, Greek, Mathematics, 
French or German, English and Ph\-sics, and the students were called upon to choose 
five. This introduction of a moderate liberty of choice between the absolute requirements 
of P'reshman year and the free election of Junior and Senior years is believed to be a 
judicious one, and not inconsistent with the opinion strongly held at Yale that the re- 
tention of a substantially required course in Freshman and Sophomore years meets the 
needs of mental discipline and thorough training better than a free range of electives 
through four years. 

Of the fruits of the elective system, one cannot yet speak with assurance, for most of the 
men who have graduated since 1884 have their records yet to make. One can say however 
with certainty that a gain has been made in the prominence given to inspiration on the part 



of the teacher, and zest in his work on the part of the student. Even if this were not the case, 
the electi\e system would be justified by its necessity, for the required system was bound to 
break down from the impossibihty of crowding into it the many subjects which must have 
a place in a modern college course. But with the gain there has been some loss. A large 
part of the discipline of life consists in doing what one does not want to do, and in not doing 
what one does want to do. The elective system does not help to impress this important fact 
upon the youthful mind, but on the contrary does something to obscure it by making it easy 
to follow what is liked and avoid what is disliked. 


Concerning the old course, and the old methods, which bore such unmistakably good fruit, 
their evident aim was to make students work, and to strengthen their mental powers by per- 
sistent application, and the overcoming of difficulties by their own efforts. Ur. Sturtevant, 
whose name appears in the Catalogue of 1822, writes thus in his autobiography concerning the 
course of instruction in his day, and what he sa>-s applies as well to any time during the next 
fifty years. " It did exert a great and salutar}- influence over the student. It accomplished 
admirably certain ends in the development of mind, and those ends cannot be ignored in our 
present improved methods without irreparable injury. Its power lay in its fixed and rigidly 
prescribed curriculum, and in its thorough drill." The latter, during at least half the course, 
was almost wholly in the hands of Tutors. Concerning them Dr. Sturtevant writes, " They were 
generally excellent drill-masters. They could hardly be said to teach at all, their duties being 
to subject every pupil three times a day to so searching a scrutiny before the whole division 
as to make it apparent to himself and all his fellows either that he did or did not understand 


his lesson. In the course of the recitation the Tutor would furnish needed explanations and 
put those who were trying to improse in a way to do better next time. It was considered no 
part of his duties to assist his pupils in preparing for recitation. In that task the pupil was 
expected to be entirely self-reliant." Freshman Sturtevant discovered that in a rather mortify- 
ing way. lie sa\s, " One day I found my lesson utterly incomprehensible, and in great trouble 
I went to the Tutor for help. He bowed me out of his room, telling me that it was not cus- 
tomary in Yale to help a student in his lessons until after the recitation." This seems almost 
incredible to us now, but the Tutor was then simply doing his duty, for each recitation was 
reall)' an examination, and to ha\e given help on a specific lesson just before recitation would 
have been nearlj- as great a breach of propriety and duty as to give out an examination paper 
now before the appointed hour. 

Concerning the effect of the whole system at Yale in those da\'s, Dr. Sturtevant writes, 
"The stern discipline of Yale College was of great importan/:e to us all. It made us feel the 
necessity of bringing our full strength to our dail)' tasks. It increased the zeal and earnestness 
of the diligent, and made the strong stronger. It compelled the slow and inert to put forth 
all their energies. If they failed to do so, or lacked the capacity necessary to master such 
a curriculum, it soon taught them what it was important for them to learn as quickly as possi- 
ble, that College was no place for them." These are words of high praise, and the College has 
tried faithfully to deserve them ever since they were written. To secure those results is exactly 
the aim of the plan so persistently adhered to at Yale, of taking the I-'reshman and Sopho- 
mores in divisions small enough to admit of frequent individual oral recitations. The problem 
is a much more difficult one in Junior and Senior \-cars, with their crowded lecture-rooms pre- 
cluding to a considerable extent the possibility of oral recitations, and with that modern refuge 
of the lazy known as a "digest" — well named, since it is intended to save so-called students 
the trouble of digesting their mental food for themscKes. 

It is evident that for the most part the old system must be likened to work in a gymna- 
sium, rather than to exercise in the open air with ever-changing scenes to delight the eye and 
invite one onward. But even in the pleasant fields of knowledge the hardest kind of work is 
needed to really master any thing worth knowing. This the teachers of former years knew as 
well as we do now, and with the sternness of their Puritan ancestors they made the hard part 
of work more prominent than its pleasant accessories. Their system was carefully planned by 
strong men to make strong men, and in that it was successful. It has been said that the great 
achievement of Yale is the making of men, and this its alumni record abundantly shows. The 
list of Yale's representatives among the public men of the country in every department of 
activity is a long one. The number of its leading clergymen and theologians has been es- 
pecially large. So many have become the heads of Colleges and Universities that Yale has 
been called " the Mother of Presidents." Of the men filling " the highest political and judicial 
offices," and coming from the seven colleges which were founded in this country before 1770, 
President Thwing has found that "Yale has helped to train the largest number — about 550." 
Mention of some of these by name would be made here and at the close of following chapters, 
were it not that the plan of Universities and their Sons includes the presentation else- 
where of notices of distinguished alumni in all the Departments of the University. 


The Divinity School 

THE Divinity School was in point of time the second of the Professional Schools established 
at Yale. But this statement applies only to its formal organization. Instruction in 
Theology had from early times been a part of the education given at the College. Indeed, the 
strongest motive for the founding of the College was the desire to secure a learned ministry. 
As President Clap said, " The great design of founding this School was to educate ministers 
in our own wa}\" Hence in the early years, a course at Yale, supplemented by residence for 
a while in a minister's family, for further reading and introduction into the practical work of the 
pastor, was accepted as a satisfactory training for a minister. But aside from this, there were 
persons who remained after graduation for special study in theology, and a part of the time 
of the earl}' Rectors was occupied in teaching them. It was partly the needs of this class that 
led to the establishment of the Professorship of Divinity in 1755. That this was a regular 
chair in the College, rather than a special one for work avowedly outside the regular course, was 
entirely in keeping with the practice of that time, for " the idea of theological schools as separate 
from colleges and universities did not then exist in this countr}- or in Europe." 

The incumbents of the new chair for more than se\enty years preached in the College 
pulpit, and taught graduates who were fitting for the ministry. During these j'ears therefore 
a Theological Department was in existence with its separate students and course of study, but 
there was no official recognition to distinguish it from the rest of the College. The department 
thus established in fact though not in name had for its Professors successively Dr. Daggett; 
Dr. Wales, whose place was supplied a large part of the time by President Stiles ; and President 
Dwight, who added the duties of this post to those of the Presidency. Of the number of persons 
who received their clerical education at Yale during these years there is no exact record, but 
it was considerable, being a large part of the Yale graduates who entered the ministry. Among 
them were some of the foremost preachers and theologians of New England, notably Moses 
Stuart, Lyman Beecher and Nathaniel W. Taylor, who received their theological training from 
President Dwight. 

This preliminary stage in the evolution of the Di\Mnit\- School came to an end substantially 
with the death of President Dwight. Dr. Eliazur T. Fitch was appointed his successor in the 
Chair of Divinit}-, but he soon found that the work needed in it was expanding beyond the 
power of one man to perform. President Dwight had perceived the coming need, had planned 
for the establishment of a separate department of Theology, and had enlisted the interest of his 
son, a prominent merchant in New Ha\en, toward securing the needed funds. But his death 
came before his plans were matured. The decisi\e step was taken in 1822, when fifteen Seniors 
who intended to remain after graduation and stud}" for the ministr}' sent in a petition that the} 
might be organized as a theological class. Professor Fitch ga\e his heart}- support to the 
petition and urged that a Professor must be appointed for the instruction of theological students 
alone, unless the College was willing to gi\-e up its ancient and cherished work of training }-oung 
men for the ministr}-. In order to prevent the taking of such a backward step, the President 
and Faculty presented to the Corporation a plan, the substance of which was that a Professor 
of Theology be appointed, and that the instruction needed in the new- department in Hebrew, 


Greek and Rhetoric be supplied for tlic present b\- the College Professors. This was entirely 
feasible, provided the money needed for the salary of the now Professor could be secured. The 
Corporation was of the same mind with the Paculty, and issued an appeal to the citizens of New 
Haven. This was successful in obtaining the desired sum, a principal contributor being Mr. 
Timothy U\\ ight, who was thus happilj' able to assist in carrying out one of his father's cherished 

With this beginning of a separate endowment, a new department of Theology was organized 
with one full Professorship, named the " Dwight Professorship of Didactic Theology." I'or 
the first incumbent of this chair, choice was made of Rev. Nathaniel \V. Taylor. With him 
were associated three of the College Professors, nainol_\', I-'itch of Divinity, Kingsley of Lan- 
guages and Goodrich of Rhetoric and Oratory. A part of Dr. Fitch's work as we have seen 
was in Theology, and he continued to instruct in Homilctics in the new department as long 
as he remained in active service. The services of Professors Kingsley and Goodrich were in 
addition to their regular work and were entircl\- \dluntar\-, a practical proof of their devotion 
to the College at a time when there was danger of its taking a backward step through lack of 
funds. Professor Kingsley's services were not needed after 1824, when his work was assumed 
by Mr. Josiah W. Gibbs, who was appointed two years later to a new chair of " Sacred Litera- 
ture." Professor Goodrich was transferred to the Theological Department in 1839, as Professor 
of" The Pastoral Charge," having been closely connected with the department from its organiza- 
tion as one of its most earnest promoters. Thus the four men, Taylor, Fitch, Gibbs and Good- 
rich, constituted the original Faculty of the Divinity School, and together shaped its course and 
gave it character and renown for over thirty years. The earl}- portion of this time was the 
heroic period of the "Theological Seminary," as it was then called, when teachers and pupils 
were full of the ardor of conflict for the truth against equally good and true men who saw the 
other side of the shield ; when New Haven Theology was an acknowledged school of New 
England thought; when the popular name " Taj-lorism " ditl homage to the great leader who 
questioned the Orthodoxy of the day, and contended for modifications which gave a new 
direction to the religious thought of the land. 

Nathaniel \V. Taylor graduated at Yale in 1807, and in the following year returned to New 
na\-en to study theology. President Dwight received him into his fami!\', and during his period 
of study was his only preceptor and guide. When this period of study came to a close, the 
preaching which was its fruit soon attracted attention, and Mr. Taylor received a call to the 
vacant pulpit of the Center Church in New Haven. A call to such an important post appears 
to ha\-e taken him completely by surprise, and he shrank from assuming the responsibility. 
But encouraged by his faithful friend and teacher Dr. Dwight, he withdrew his objections, and 
became the Pastor of one of the most prominent and intelligent of our congregations. The 
result of his faithful and eloquent preaching here was seen in the religious revivals which charac- 
terized the period of his ministry. " In all the churches around him he became a well-known 
and accepted leader of the revival movement; and ere long, while he was in the freshness of his 
youth, he had reached a position of influence, acceptance and usefulness, second to no other 
among the preachers of the day." 

While he was thus in the fiill tide of his successful ministry, and when in his thirty-sixth 
year, he received the call to the new Dwight Professorship at Yale, a post which it was mani- 
festly in his power to make one of the most important in New England. His people were 
strongly opposed to his leaving them, and a rupture of their friendly relations with the College 



seemed imminent, but they yielded and lie accepted tlie call. He entered at once with enthu- 
siasm and delight upon the congenial work of teaching the system of theology of which he was 
the champion, and under his guidance " the students plunged into the profoundcst depths of 
philosophic inquiry, until the whole seminary was in a ferment of intellectual activity." 

It could hardly be expected that such a bold and vigorous teacher would escape criticism 
when he attacked what he considered prevailing errors. Conservatism then, as ever, was up 
in arms against the audacious thinker, and the protests showered upon him have a familiar 
sound. The man who was eagerly delving for truth, and trying to establish more firmly upon 

it the foundations of 
accused of under- 
the multitude. He 
sides for his theolog- 
and years of con- 
Meanwhile the Sem- 
"The more young 
leges and schools of 
against Dr. Taylor, 
flocked to his lec- 
Professor Tay- 
leagues most effi- 
supporters in his 
teacher and a con- 
fessor Fitch grad- 
the Class of 18 10. 
m a i n 1 \' a c c o m - 
lege pulpit where 
successful. His 
of the establishment 
Seminary has been 
work in it continued 
close of his active 


religious belief, was 
mining the faith of 
was attacked on all 
ical unsoundness, 
troversy followed, 
inary prospered, 
men in other col- 
theology were warned 
the more they 
lor found in his col- 
cient helpers and 
work both as a 
troversialist. Pro- 
uated at Yale in 
His life-work was 
plished in the Col- 
he was eminently 
earnest advocacy 
of the Theological 
mentioned. His 
e\cn bc\-ond the 
work in the Col- 
high order. " His 

lege and was of a 

brief series of lectures on Homiletics were considered at the time and for the time to be 

unsurpassed in merit." 

His friend and classmate Goodrich filled the Chair of Rhetoric in the College with distin- 
guished ability for twenty-two years. He was one of the most efficient agents in securmg the 
establishment of the Theological Seminary, aiding the enterprise with his counsel, with his sub- 
scription, and with the further financial backing which was found to be necessary after the 
money needed for a beginning had been obtained. Before his formal transfer from the College 
to the Seminary, he purchased the " Christian Spectator," made it the organ of the New Haven 
theology, and in its pages undertook to elucidate and defend Dr. Taylor's doctrines. In 1839, 
he again ga\-e signal proof of his devotion to the Seminary by giving money for the establish- 
ment of a new chair of " Pastoral Theology." When search was made for a suitable man for the 
place, no one could be found better qualified for it than Dr. Goodrich himself, so that to his 
surprise he was asked to fill the chair which he had partiall\- endowed. " In the discharge of 

VOL. I. — 20 


the duties conncclcil with this chair he continued for t\\enl\- years until liis deatli, laboring 
incessantly and with a success rarely attained to incite every sUuleiit who came w ithin reach of 
his remarkable personal inlluenco to make the most of his powers in the pastoral work." 

Professor Gibbs -graduated at Vale in iSoy, taui,'lit for six years, then went to Andovcr, 
where he soon became interested in the study of Hebrew. In 1S24, he returned to Yale as 
College Librarian and Instructor in Hebrew, and two years later was made Professor of Sacred 
Literature in the new Theological Seminary. During his long service of thirt>-fivc )'ears at this 
post, many important contributions to Oriental and Comparative Philolo.ny ajji^eared from his 
pen. Professor Fisher has ilescribed him as "the scholar of the I'^aculty ; ])atient, accurate, 
thorough and conscientious in all his researches, cautious and naturall_\- skeptical in his intel- 
lectual habit, but with a jjrofound i-t.-ligious sense, and a candor more beautiful than the highest 
gifts of intellect." 

The active services of these eminent men who for more than thirl_\- years constituted the 
Theological Faculty came to an end at about the same time. Dr. Ta\lor dieil in 185S, Dr. 
Goodrich in i860, Dr. Gibbs in 1S61 ; and Dr. Fitch, also in 1861 , withtlrew from work on 
account of the increasing infirmities of age, although he li\'ed ten )-ears longer. The jx'ace of 
their declining \'ears was in happ}' contrast with the din of the conflict in which the)^ had borne 
so valiant a part in earlier life. The cpiestions which seemed all important then were now partly 
settled, partly displaced 1)\- others more interesting to a " practical " age, and the men of a new 
generation were beginning to speak lightly of the theological warfare of their fathers, and to 
wonder what it was all abcnit. lUit their intense concern ft)r the things of the spirit, and their 
profound convictions of truth and duty, were wrought into the li\es of hundreds of }X)ung men 
whom they sent forth to be religious leaders of the people. Even after these have all passed 
awa_\-, the memory of their earnest quest for truth and their lo_\-alty to it, even to the spending of 
their lives in its defence, will e\'er be a priceless heritage to the institution they loved so well. 

While the Seminary was thus doing a great work and making a worthy record during the years 
from 1824 to 1858, it was in some important matters almost stationary. No addition was made 
to its teaching force during all those years. Little effort was made to increase its endowment, 
which was only $50,000 in 1858. Its one building, put up in 1836, had been made to answer for 
its needs. During the latter jjart of the time, whiMi its Professors were past their prime, the 
number of students had fallen off. The death of Dr. Taylor in 1858, broke up the old order 
of things, and within the ne.xt four years great changes were made. In that jear Rev. Timothy 
Dwight was chosen Assistant Professor of Sacred Literature as colleague to Professor Gibbs, and 
Professor Porter of the College Faculty was asked to give the lectures on Systematic Theology, 
which he did until 1866, when Dr. Leonard Bacon, who had latel}' resigned the pastorate of the 
Center Church, gave a corresponding course until 1871. In that year President Harris of 
Bowdoin College was elected to the permanent chair made vacant by Dr. Tajlor's death, and 
Dr. l?acon continued to give lectures on Church Polity and American Church History until his 
death in 1881. In 1861, Rev. James M. Hoppin was chosen Profes.sor of Homiletics and Pasto- 
ral Theology in place of Professor Goodrich, who had died, and Rev. George P. I-"isher was 
appointed to a new Chair of F.cclesiastical History. In the same year a formal division of 
Professor Gibbs' chair was made. Professor Dwight taking the Greek Literature of the New 
Testament, and Professor Henry H. Hadley receiving the appointment to the Chair of Hebrew. 
This he filled for only a year, and was followed by Mr. Van Name as Instructor until 1866, when 
Professor George E. Day of Lane Seminary accepted the call to the permanent chair. 



It will be seen that for several years until 1866, the Faculty consisted of Professors Dwight, 
Hoppin and Fisher, and Mr. Van Name, assisted by Professor Porter of the College. The years 
from 1858 to 1866, were years of waiting and preparation, with some anxiety for the future. 
The number of students was small, and this could not be a matter of surprise in view of the 
disappearance of the men who had given the School its fame. The low state of its treasur)-, 
and the increasing competition of other institutions also produced their effect. 

In 1866, a most important step was taken b)- the Corporation in pro\iding that thereafter the 
graduates of the Theological Department should receive the degree of Bachelor of Divinity. 
This gave the department complete recognition as the Divinity School of the University, and 


was preliminary to the vigorous efforts soon made for its further development. These efforts 
received quite an impetus when it was known that the School must lose its building, which had 
been put on the College square with the understanding that the College might take it at a fair 
appraisal whenever it or the ground it occupied might be needed. It was removed in 1870, to 
make room for Durfee Hall. In anticipation of this the friends of the School were appealed to 
for the money needed for a new building, and they responded generous!}'. A most advan- 
tageous site was secured on the corner of College and Flm Streets, and a new and commodious 
building, mainly a dormitory for students, but also well provided with lecture-rooms. Professors' 
rooms, and a reference library, was erected in 1870. The possession of this building, now 
known as East Di\-init\- Hall, added decidedl}- to the prestige of the School, and soon the 
increased number of students called for another dormitory of equal size, which was put up in 
1874, and is known asWest Dix'init}-. These arc large brick buildings of four stories, and furnish 


accommodations for one hundred ami fifty students. Their front ends are connected b>- the 
beautiful little Marquand Chapel, built in 1871, and the Bacon Memorial Library, built in 1881. 
The four buildings present a handsome front of about two hundred feet on h'lm Street, and in 
the rear enclose on three sides a small court. 

These buildings give the Divinity School an individuality which is helpful to it, and place 
it at the head of the Professional Schools at Yale in the matter of material equipnuiU. The}- 
also commemorate the generosity of one of Yale's most earnest friends, Mr. Frederick Mar- 
quand of Southport, as well as the interest taken in the School by a large number of smaller 
donors. The money needed for East Divinity was contributed b\- more than one hundred per- 
sons, among whom were prominent Christian men in New York and Brooklyn, a number of 
members of the Broadway Tabernacle, officers of the Seminary, and citizens of New Haven. 
When funds for West Divinity were called for, Mr. Marquand gave one half, and the rest was 
contributed by seventy-five persons. The last seven thousand dollars needed to ensure the 
erection of the building were guaranteed by the Theological Professors, but were subsequently 
given by Mr. Hand of \ew Ha\en. Mr. Marquand had in the mean time presented the chapel, 
which he named after his wife, and later the Library building, which he named in honor of 
Dr. Leonard Bacon. These gifts, together with a sum recei\ed from his estate after his death, 
make him the largest individual donor to the Divinity School. He was a religious and con- 
scientious man, who in the later \'ears of his life spent much time and nionc\' in works of 
beneficence in an unostentatious way. 

After these bm'ldings, ample for the jirobable wants of the School for some time to come, 
had been furnished, there remaineil the need of endowment funds for current expenses. One 
of the earliest donors for this purpose was William A. Buckingham, the noble " War-Go\'ernor " 
of Connecticut. He has been followed by Augustus R. Street, William V.. Dodge, Henry 
Winkley, Asa Otis, Samuel Holmes, Morris K. Jesup, Elbert B. Alonroe, Mrs. Caroline E. 
Washburn and many others who by their generosity have made it possible to establish new- 
Professorships, and in other waj-s increase greatly the efficiency of the School. Deser\ing of 
special mention is the Reference Librar>-, presented b}- Mr. Henry Trowbridge of New Ha\en. 
It is in the Marquand Library, and is of great use to the students, to whom, b)- its constant 
and ready accessibility, it is practically as serviceable as a private librar_\-. A similar gift was 
the Librar_\- of Music, collected by the late Lowell Mason, and presented b)- his friends after 
his death. It is the most valuable Musical Library possessed by any similar institution in the 

As no charge is made for tuition or room-rent in this department, it is peculiarly dependent 
on those who appreciate the importance of its work, and are willing to gi\e it material aid. 
Were it not for the strong hold which the School has upon the portion of the Christian public 
most in denominational sympathy with it, no such advance as has been made during the past 
thirty years could have been witnessed. An instance of the cordial interest taken in the School 
was furnished in 1 891, when East Divinity Hall was damaged by fire. Help was rendered at 
once, so that not only was the building promptly repaired, but also the losses of the students 
were made good to them. 

During these years since i866, the Faculty which succeeded the first has been almost 
completely replaced by a third. Professor Fisher alone remaining in active service as Professor 
of Ecclesiastical History, and Dean. Professors Day and Harris, whose appointments have 
already been mentioned, are enjoying their well-earned retirement as Professors Plmeriti. 


Professor Day resigned the Chair of Hebrew in 1891, but continued to act as Dean and to give 
some instruction until 1895, when he retired from active service. Of late years he has been 
engaged in collecting for the School a valuable Missionary Library. His place in the Chair of 
Hebrew was taken b\' Professor Edward L. Curtis. Professor Harris resigned his Chair of 
Systematic Theology in 1895, and was followed by Professor George B. Stevens, who since 
1866 had occupied the Chair of New Testament Criticism and Interpretation made vacant in 
that year by Professor Dwight's acceptance of the Presidency. The chair thus vacated by 
Professor Stevens was filled in 1897, by the appointment of Professor Benjamin W. Bacon 
who had been Instructor for one year. The Chair of Homiletics and the Pastoral Charge 
which Professor Hoppin had filled since 1861 was vacated in 1879, and occupied temporarily 
by Professor William M. Barbour until 1885, when the permanent appointment was given to 
Professor Lewis O. Brastow. In 1885, Mr. Winkley endowed the chair of Biblical Theology ; 
Professor John E. Russel filled the chair until 1889, and was followed by Professor Frank C. 
Porter. In 1892, Dr. Arthur Fairbanks was appointed Lecturer on Social Ethics and Philos- 
ophy of Religion, and in the following year a Chair of Christian Ethics, intended to take the 
place of the Lectureship, was established and Professor William F. Blackman was appointed 
to it. In 1892, Dr. Samuel S. Curry was appointed Instructor in Elocution. 

In addition to this regular Faculty, a number of lecturers are invited each year to address 
the students on various topics connected with their work. The most important of these annual 
appointments is the one made on the L\'man Beecher Foundation, established in 1871, by Mr. 
Henry W. Sage of Brookl}-n. The object of this Lectureship was to bring to the School each 
year some eminent di\'ine who could give the students the benefit of his actual experience 
in the preacher's work. It was believed that this practical presentation would supplement in 
a most valuable way the teachings of the lecture-room. This expectation has been amply 
realized. For a quarter of a century eminent clergymen of this country, and from England, 
Scotland and Canada, have come to Yale, and by their eloquent words have done much for the 
inspiration and guidance of the young men fitting for the ministry. Beyond the immediate 
precincts of the School also, the lectures are highly prized for their intellectual acumen as well 
as their spiritual power, and many look forward to the arrival of the L}-man Beecher Lecturer 
as the event of the College year. The lectures have been published each year, and now con- 
stitute an important collection of books on the essential requisities for success in the preacher's 
work. President Dwight says of them, " No successive courses of lectures on subjects pertain- 
ing to the work of the ministry which have ever been given in our country have had greater 
interest for those who heard them, or more widely extended usefulness when read by others 
after their publication." 

While the primary importance of preparation for the acti\'e ministry of the gospel has thus 
been carefully provided for, the value to the church at large of advanced scholarship has not 
been overlooked. In 1876, the Aurelia D. Hooker Fellowship was established in memory of 
Mrs. Hooker of New Haven, in order to enable the most promising graduates to continue their 
theological studies in this countr\- or abroad. This fellowship is awarded ever\- other year, and 
is held for two years. In 1891, it was supplemented by the Dwight Fellowship, which aims to 
accomplish the same result, but is held for only one year. It is awarded every other 
year, alternating with the Hooker Fellowship. 

A still more important step in the direction of higher education was taken in 1879, when 
a year of graduate study was added to the three years of the regular course, and was offered 


to tlic graduates of this and other theological schools. Attractive courses of lectures and lines 
of study were arranged, and much interest was felt in ihc movement, especiallj- as Yale was the 
first Theological School to introduce regular graduate instruction. The response has been 
encouraging. A graduate class of excellent quality and fair size has entered each j-ear. One 
year (1S93) it numbered twenty-one, the largest thus far. It is a fact of much promise for the 
future that ten or more j-oung men each \car are able to resist the strong temptation to enter 
the salary-earning stage of their career at the earliest possible moment, and are willing instead 
to spend an additional year in study for the sake of a broader foundation and fuller equipment. 
Their very presence in the School bears constant witness to the undergraduates of the importance 
of careful and prolonged training for their life-work. Imlced, the whole trend of the School is 
steadily toward better work and more of it. In 1890, a bequest came from Mrs. Elizabeth 1'. 
F"ogg of New York to establish the Fogg Scholarships, ten of which are awarded each year to 
Juniors after a special examination, and the rest are assigned to graduate students of special 
promise. In 1893, an interesting experiment was made of offering elective courses in the Middle 
and Senior years. Their purpose is " to encourage scholarly investigation in special lines, and 
to train students in methods of independent stud\'." They do not take the place of, but are 
strictly supplcmentar>- to, the regular curriculum which, as the fundamental preparation for 
professional work, remains required. 

Since 1892, an entrance examination in Greek has been required of those who are 
not College graduates. Along with this requirement, provision is now made for special 
cases where faithful application and manifest fitness are such as to warrant the relaxation 
of the rule. Yet there is little occasion for this exceptional treatment, or even for an 
examination, for in 1896-97, among the one hundred and four students in attendance, there 
were only two non-graduates. 

In addition to all that the School does for the training of its students, must be 
added the advantages which come from association with other departments of the Uni- 
versity. Thus the establishment of the Department of Music has greatly increased the 
interest in, and attention paid to, church music; and the interest in debating awakened 
in the College a few years ago gave new life to the debating club of the Di\inity 
School. In other ways not so apparent, the Uni\ersity environment furnishes a most 
valuable stimulus to intellectual activity. Thus, b}- the requirement of a College education. 
b\' honorable and substantial reward of diligent work in the School, by encouragement 
of voluntary study beyond the regular course, by the continuance of scholarly work 
after graduation, and by participation in the wider activities of the University, the Yale 
Divinit)' School has been placed in the front rank of American institutions for the 
training of a learned ministry. 

Some of the eminent men who have studied divinity at Yale ha\e alreadj' been 
mentioned in other connections. It remains to be said that on several occasions graduates 
of this School have united their efforts for the accomplishment of important evangelistic and 
educational work. The first of these movements, and the one most noted, was in 1829, 
when seven members of the School, namely, Thcron Baldwin, John F. Brooks, Mason 
Grosvenor, Elisha Jenny, William Kirby, Julian M. Sturtevant and Asa Turner, formed the 
" Illinois Band," and agreed to devote themselves to Christian work in what was then 
the New West. That great region, now the home of an advanced Christian civilization, 
was then attracting adventurers of every kind, and danger was apprehended that irrcligion 


and illiteracy would gain the upper hand. Animated by religious and patriotic devotion, 
the Illinois Band went forth, and accomplished a work whose value to the church and 
nation can hardly be overestimated. Many of the little congregations which they gathered 
in the wilderness have grown to be strong and influential churches in the midst of 
populous communities. One of the tangible fruits of their labors was Illinois College, 
founded in 1829. This, as a miniature Yale, brought to the doors of struggling pioneers 
some of the otherwise unattainable advantages of the distant New England College. 


The Medical School 

IN early times in New P^ngland, a young man desirous of becoming a doctor used to 
receive his medical education at the hands of a practising ph\'sician. He would 
read under his direction, and accompany him on his visits, thus recei\ing at once the 
advantages of intelligent guidance, practical illustration and personal inspiration. When 
he was deemed sufficiently proficient, his preceptor would give him a certificate, which 
served in place of the diploma of the present day. These indixidual certificates of course 
varied greatly in value according to the ability and good judgment of the physicians who 
gave them, and at length the need was felt for more reliable credentials. The first im- 
portant move in Connecticut toward securing these was made in 1763, when sc\eral 
eminent ph\-sicians tried to secure legislati\^e appro\-al of a plan for the giving of medi- 
cal certificates by " a committee of three approved ph\'sicians." But this plan was not 
regarded with fa\-or at that time. 

In 1784, the New Haven County Medical Society was organized, and soon acquired 
great influence in the State. It appointed a committee to examine candidates, and if 
they were found satisfactory, to give them certificates. It also started an agitation for 
securing from the Legislature the incorporation of a State Medical Society. Members of 
the profession in all parts of the State were interested in the movement, and petitions 
and memorials were sent to the Legislature in large numbers. But a singular con- 
servatism kept the Legislature from granting the charter, and as the demand for it 
became more pressing, people outside the profession became interested. President 
Stiles records in his diary that on a certain day in 1788, the College Seniors discussed 
the question, " Whether it be safe to grant the proposed charter to the Connecticut 
Medical Society." Evidently the Legislature thought not, for it was eight years before 
the society succeeded in getting a charter. 

This was in 1792, and from that time the society took general charge of the 
interests of the profession in the State. County societies were already in existence, and 
usually gave the licenses to practise. Both sets of societies had therefore been in the 
field several years when President Dwight made his first move toward the giving of 
medical instruction at Yale, and their influence was at first thrown against his plan. 
There appears to have been a \-er}' natural fear on the part of the doctors in those 
organizations that they would lose control of admissions to the profession, and this 



objection on their part it was necessary at the start to meet and overcome. For the pur- 
pose of harmonizing conflicting views, a conference committee was appointed on whicli the 
College and the Medical Society were equally represented. As a result of the conference, 
the doctors agreed to co-operate with the College in the ajjpointment of a joint committee 
to petition the Legislature for an Act of incorporation. This was obtained in 1810. 

In iSiJ, the School was organized b\- the selection of a Facult\'. 'V\tv Professors 
chosen, \\ith their departments of instruction, were as follows: /Eneas Munson, Materia 
Medica and Botan>- ; Xathan Smith, Theory and Practice of Physic, .Suigerj' and Obstetrics; 
Eli Ives, Adjunct ^„,^^^^^^^^_^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Professor of Ma- 

Munson was nearl\- i^^^^^^^!^n|H^H ^v^l^^^^^^^^^^^^^l "'^ 
and was given | "^^^^^B^ ^ /^^ ^^I^^^^^^^^^^^H honorary ap- 
pointment, £ l^^^^^k j> \^^^^^^^^^^^^^^B ^'^' prestige to 
the School || fl^HHBl& .^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H 

rec- |~ ''^^ ^gB Bk ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H his 

distinguished | ^^7 ^^^^^^^^^^^HH^^^H ^'^ ^^^'^ ^^'^' 

fcssion. Dr.Smith | -,:. <^^fl^^^^^^^^^|B ^^^H head 

Faculty, bV ' flH^^^^^H^^^^^^^^^^lH ^^^^1 

Silliman ^^K; ■'^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^f' ^^^| 

ificatinns for their ^^^K «9H ^ r^^^^^^nk;' ^SHO^^^^^^H respective posts. 

Knight a ^^^^^A^^^I^^^^H^^Si^^^^^^^^^^^^^l 

^HiHH^I^H^E ^^^^^^^HJH 

strength and honor ^,^,^.^^^ ^^^_,^,^ to the School. 

It will be seen that the original 

Faculty of the Medical School was a strong one. The range of their chairs also met the 
requirements of the profession at that time, so that the School .started out under excep- 
tionally favorable circum.stances, " and attained immediate!}- an en\iablc reputation and 
marked success." It continued for sixteen years entirely in the hands of its first four 
Professors, and after the death of Dr. Smith in 1829, for thirty years longer under the 
guidance of the other three. 

Dr. Munson was a Vale graduate of the Class of 1753. He pursued his medical 
studies independently, and by virtue of his genius and industry became one of the 
most eminent physicians of the time. Dr. Ives said of him, " Dr. Munson was a 
pioneer in tlie science of botan\-, extensively acquainted with plants, iinri\alled in Iiis 




knowledge of indigenous materia medica, and in materia medica generally probably his 
superior was not to be found. ... To him the Faculty of this country were more 
indebted for the introduction of new articles and valuable modes of practice than to 
any other individual." And another has written of him, " No name in the early annals 
of medicine in New England stands out more sharply defined in the light of superior 
learning and wisdom than that of Dr. yEneas Munson." He was given an honorary 
position on the Faculty of the new Medical School, it being understood that the duties 
nominally assigned to him would be discharged by his friend and pupil Dr. Ives. He 

was alreadj' ad- 
yet he lived to 
for fourteen years, 
at the age of 
Dr. Nathan 
mont farmer who 
man's estate with 
p o r t u n i t i e s f o r 
he was seized with 
understand the 
human body, 
aration, he went 
School at Har- 
and graduated, the 
Medical Class of 
to Cornish, Ver- 
mcnce practice, 
pressed with the 
physicians in cen- 
shire and \'er- 
started a Medical 
mouth in 179S, 
years carried it on 
Then, dissatisfied 
ments, and eager 
went to Edin- 
medical stud\-. He 


N'anced in years, 
enjoy his honors 
and died in 1826, 
Smith was a Ver- 
had arrived at 
\ery limited op- 
education, when 
a strong desire to 
mechanism of the 
After careful prep- 
to the Medical 
\ard for two years, 
only person in the 
1790. Returning 
mont, to com- 
he became so im- 
need of educated 
tral New Hamp- 
mont, that he 
School at Dart- 
and for several 
entirely alone. 
with his attain- 
for knowledge, he 
burgh for further 
remained abroad 

one year, then returned to Dartmouth with such " ample stores of learning and experience 
as few physicians, if any, in America then possessed." In 18 12, he was chosen to inaugurate 
the new Medical School at Yale, and " his acceptance of the Chair of Surgery was doubdess 
the circumstance which determined the early and marked success of the School which rapidly 
rose to an annual attendance of seventy to ninety students." Dr. Smith was in his fift}-- 
second year when he came to New Haven, and he continued to labor with untiring industry 
and zeal for si.xteen years until his death in 1829. "He was an original investigator, and 
sought with all his powers to enlarge the bounds of human knowledge in the science which 
he cultivated, and thus he acquired a rank both as a teacher and a practitioner of medicine 
which was second to that of no medical man in New England." 



Dr. Ives was a native of \c\v Haven and a Vale graduate of the Class of 1799. He 
studied medicine with his father and with Dr. Munson, tlien attended medical lectures in 
Philadelpliia. His favorite stuti\- was bolan>'. He made himself thoroughl>- familiar with all 
the species to be found around New Haven and prepared \aluable catalogues of them. He 
had an e.xtensive correspondence with botanists in different parts of the world, and is believed 
to have been better acquainted with our native medicinal plants than an\- other man of his time. 
His special professional field of study was materia niedica, and in that he did the work nomi- 
nally assigned to Dr. Munson in the new Medical School. As a lecturer he commanded the 

respect of his classes 
sense, his rich ex- 
ble memory of cases 
unerring judgment 

Professor Silli- 
most earnest advo- 
for establishing a 
Yale, and was an 
of the important 
brought the mo\e- 
ful issue. His work 
in his chosen field 
he was an acknowl- 
medical class at- 
College students, 
being enlarged to 
classes. I le also 
students a separate 
adapted to their 

Dr. Jonathan 
at Yale in the Class 
of nineteen, and 
youngest member 
ical Facult)". He 
the Chair of Anat- 
School and for more 


" by his excellent 
perience, remarka- 
aiid facts, and his 
in diagnosis." 
man was one of tlie 
catcs of the plan 
Medical School at 
efficient member 
committees that 
mcnt to a success- 
in the School was 
of Chemistry, where 
edged master. The 
tended his general 
tr\- along with the 
his lecture-room 
accommodate both 
gave the medical 
course especially 

Knight graduated 
of 1808 at the age 
was therefore the 
of the original Med- 
was appointed to 
om\- in the new 
than half a century 

maintained a career of distinguished success. " It was the universal judgment of those who 
had the opportunity of making the comparison, that no medical instructor in his time sur- 
passed, if any equalled, Dr. Knight in all the qualities which make a finished teacher in the 
department of Human Anatomj-." 

The Medical School was opened in the fall of 1813, in the building at the head of College 
Street, familiar to us as Sheffield Hall. This was at first leased, but its purchase was soon 
made possible by a grant from the State Legislature. It was smaller and plainer than it is now, 
and having been built by Mr. Hillhouse as a hotel, was adapted for use as a dormitory and 
boarding house. Such in part the College authorities at first proposed to make it; for the 
Medical School started out with those family features which at that time seemed natural. 



Professor Silliman tells us in his Reminiscences, that when the organization of the School 
was under consideration in a meeting of the Corporation, the view prevailed " with little dis- 
cussion " that, as the medical students had a building to themselves in which many had 
taken rooms, and where they were to board in " Commons " of their own, they must also 
have pra\'ers as in the older College. 

This plan was put in operation, and the Catalogue as late as 1822, announces that "the 
Medical Students, during their residence in the Institution, are subject to the same moral and 
religious restraints as those of the Academical College." The same Catalogue announces that 

Medical College 
" which entitles 
main in the room 
One would think 
charge would have 
College, with its 
ment and religious 
ingly popular. But 
a Professional 
same plan as the 
partment was not 
abandoned, so that 
the building was 
its educational uses, 
the building, the 
the land east of it 
Avenue. On a part 
field's house (now 
Laboratory) was 
but most of it is 
This land was then 
tanical Garden, ac- 
terms of the Act 
which provided 
garden shall be 
as the funds of the 

room-rent in the 
is five dollars, 
the student to re- 
during the year." 
that this modest 
made the Medical 
boarding depart- 
privileges, exceed- 
the attempt to run 
School on the 
undergraduate de- 
successful, and was 
before many years 
given up entirely to 
Together with 
School acquired 
as far as Hillhouse 
of this Mr. Shef- 
the Biological 
afterward built, 
still unoccupied, 
desired for a Bo- 
cording to the 
of incorporation 
that " a botanical 
established as soon 
College will allow." 


This garden ap- 
pears to ha\e been a hobb}- with Ur. Ives, who is believed to have secured the insertion 
of the above clause in the Charter. Without waiting for the funds of the College to " allow," 
he went ahead at his own expense and made a collection of native plants which at the 
time was believed to be the most complete in this countr\'. For a time this interesting 
enterprise flourished, but the expense of maintaining it was considerable, and no public 
help was forthcoming, so that Dr. Ives was obliged to abandon it. The building proved 
adequate to the needs of the School until 1859, when it was sold to Mr. Sheffield, and in 
the following year one larger and more conveniently arranged was erected for it on York 
Street, on land belonging to the College, where the residence of the Divinity Professor had 
formerlv stood. 


The School flourished under its first Professors, the attendance of students showing a grat- 
ifying increase. Afterwanl, the competition of other newly established schools was felt. When 
Dr. Smith died, in 1S29, important changes were made in the Faculty. His chair was divided 
into three parts. Dr. Eli Ives taking Theory and Practice of Medicine; Dr. Thomas Hubbard, 
Principles and Practice of Surger\- ; and Dr. T. P. Heers, Obstetrics and Diseases of Women and 
Children. Dr. Tully was chosen to the chair vacated by Dr. Ives, and its title was changed to 
Materia Medica and Therapeutics. The medical chairs were thus made si.K in number, and 
remained so for nearly forty years. Dr. Ives retired in 1852, and his chair has been successively 
filled by Doctors Worthington Hooker, Charles L. Ives, David P. Sniitii, Lucian S. Wilco.x, 
Charles A. Lindsley, and John S. El\-. Dr. Hubbard died in 1838, and Dr. Knight was trans- 
ferred to his chair, and occulted it until a short time before his death in 1864. At the time of 
his retirement he was the last surviving member of the original Facult}', and iiad been in service 
fifty-one years. His place has been successively filled by Doctors Francis Bacon, David P. 
Smith and William H. Carmalt. Tiie Chiir of Anatom,/ and Physiolog)', vacated by Dr. Knight, 
was occupied bj- Dr. Charles Hooker until his death in 1863, and then by Dr. Leonard J. San- 
ford until 1879, when it was divided. Dr. Sanfortl then took the Ciiair of Anatomy, and has 
been followed bj' Doctors S. W. Williston and Harry B. l-Y-rris. The Cliair of Physiology was 
given to Dr. James K. Thacher, and he was followed b_\' Dr. (iraham Lusk. Dr. Beers retired 
in 1856, and has been followed by Doctors Pliny A. Jewett, .Stephen G. Hubbard, Frank V.. 
Beckwith and James Campbell. Dr. Tully retired in 1841, and has been followed by Doctors 
Henry Bronson, Eli Ives (who kept the place for one j'ear, until 1853, when he was made Pro- 
fessor Emeritus at the close of a service of forty years), Henry Bronson (who resumed his 
chair), Charles A. Lindsle;-, Thomas H. Russell and Oliver T. Osborne. In 1867, Dr. Moses 
C.White was appointed to the Chair of Pathology, which included in its title Histology and 
Microscopy until 1880. A Chair of Physiological Chemistry and To\icolog\- was filled by Dr. 
George F. Barker from 1867 to 1873, one of Ophthalmology and Otology b\- Dr. William II. 
Carmalt from 1879 to 188 1, and one of Clinical G\ni:EcoIogA' by Dr. Frank E. Beckwith from 
1885 to 1890, but they have not been maintained as separate chairs since the gentlemen named 
retired from them. In 1891, Dr. Thomas H. Russell was appointed to a Chair of Clinical Siir 
gery and Surgical Anatomy. Benjamin Silliman, Jr., .succeeded his father in 1853, was Profes- 
sor of Chemistry until his death in 1885, and was followed by Dr. Herbert E. Smith, who is now 
Dean of the School. In this ofifice he was preceded by Dr. Charles A. Lindsley, who followed 
Dr. Charles Hooker. 

The Faculty now consists of the nine Professors whose names appear last in the abo\e lists, 
together with four Assistant Professors, namely, Doctors Louis S. De Forest, Henry L. Swain, 
Benjamin A. Cheney, and Charles J. Bartlett, and twenty-six Lecturers and Assistants. On 
the Faculty roll also appears the name of Dr. Lindsley, who retired from active ser\ice in 1897, 
as Emeritus Professor. He entered the Facult)- in i860, and his long ser\'ice of thirty -seven 
years has been exceeded only by the terms of Doctors Knight and I\es. Next to him is 
Doctor White, with a continuous service of thirty years as Professor, preceded by five years 
as instructor. 

Under the learned and faithful men named above, the School has been brought through 
trying times, resulting from inadequate means and lack of public support. At no time has it 
been possessed of funds sufficient for its needs, or at all commensurate with the importance of 
the work it was trying to accomplish. It started with no other material foundation than the 




land and building on Grove Street. By the sale of these in 1859, it was able to secure a larger 
and better arranged building on York Street. As late as 1868, its income from invested funds 
was only $1000, which was not enough for its incidental expenses, and in 1885 its funds were 
less than $30,000. Under these circumstances the income of the School had to come mainly 
from the tuition fees of the students, and these proved quite inadequate. During the early days 
of the School, the attendance was good, rising in 1822, as high as ninety-two. But after 1829, 
during several decades, there was a steady falling off in average attendance. During the 
eighties, the average number in the classes at graduation was seven, two of them appearing 

for their degrees 
in each. Yet in 
couragements, the 
charge of the 
set their faces 
higher standard 
their part, and of 
part of their pu- 
did, well knowing 
for some time at 
be smaller classes 
income. Indeed, 
tory of the Uni- 
nothing more 
the plucky fight 
cal School has 
tliorough medical 
in this it has the 
a leader among 
tutions of the 
In the earl)' 
School, the in- 
sisted of a single 
commencing late 
continuing six- 
the results of mere 
tures were noto- 
factor\-, and the 

with only two men 
spite of all dis- 
physicians in 
School resolutely 
toward a steadily 
of instruction on 
attainment on the 
pils. This they 
that the result, 
least, was likely to 
and diminished 
in the whole his- 
versity, there is 
creditable than 
which the Medi- 
made for more 
instruction, and 
honor of being 
the medical insti- 

years of the 
St ruction con- 
term of lectures, 
in the fall and 
teen weeks. But 
hstening to lec- 
riousl}' unsatis- 
Yale Professors 

were among the first to take a step in the direction of more thorough work. In 1855, they 
announced in the Catalogue " a private Medical School for the purpose of daily recita- 
tions." This School had two terms, the first coinciding with the lecture term of the 
Medical Department, the second occupying the rest of the College j-ear. Separate fees 
were charged, and attendance was of course voluntary. It proved to be an exceedingly 
useful adjunct to the regular course of lectures. The recitations in the first term took 
the form of " quizzes " on the lectures, and the exercises of the second term developed 
into an extended course of text-book and laboratory work. In 1867, this private school 
was absorbed into the I\Iedical Department, the quizzes of its first term occurring in 




connection witli tlic lectures as part of the regular course, and its second term appear- 
in" as an official extension of that course. 

Four years later, the Catalogue announced that in the second term "the students 
are classified so that those who are just entering upon the study will be taught during 
their Jirst )car only the more elementary branches ; while the studies of the second year 
will include the more ])ractical branches; a third year being provided for reviewing the 
studies of the entire course." with additional instruction as specified. This was a tenta- 
tive move in the direction of a graded course, lengthened to three years. l^ut it 
remained in the experimental stage for eight years, during which the names of the 
students continued to appear in the Catalogue in a single alphabetically arranged list, 
and the formal lectures were given as of old in a single group of courses during the 
first four months of the College j-ear. 

During these years one important ])crmancnt change was made. The old examina- 
tion for a degree, hitherto largcl\- oral, was replaced by a rigid written examination. 
This was reported in 1875, as gi\ing "entire satisfaction to the students and their 
instructors, as well as to the board of examination, and the profession of the State." 
It was added, with a pardonable touch of pride, " Among those who every jear fail to 
pass their examinations for degrees, the better students continue to ])ursue their studies 
at the College for another year; while others find no difficult)- in graduating with facil- 
ity at some of the Medical Colleges in other States, where the standard for graduation 
is lower, and the requirements are less rigidly enforced." 

The bunching of the lectures was considered an evil, and the hope had been 
expressed in 1867, that " eventuall}- the study of medicine, like that of anj- other science, will 
be continued daily through the ordinary academic j-ear." The great change came in 
1879, when the system of instruction was "arranged in a graded course extending over 
three full \-ears," each year divided into two terms, in both of which " instruction is 
given by lectures and recitations, so arranged and combined with practical work in the 
Anatomical, Physiological, and Pathological Laboratories, as ma)' best promote the advance- 
ment of students to a thorough knowledge of Medical Science." At the same time, exam- 
inations were instituted in addition to the one required at graduation. One of these was 
an entrance examination in Mathematics, Latin and Ph)sics, for those who were not College 
graduates. The other examinations came at the end of the first and second years, for advance- 
ment to the next higher year. 

Great credit is due to the Faculty of the School for adopting this enlightened but self- 
sacrificing course. Thev were wholly intent upon advancing the cause of medical science, 
and in their comprehensive plan for doing this, they were first among the Medical Schools 
of the country. If other Schools were before them in putting the plan into operation, it 
was entirel)- owing to the po\-ert)- of the Yale School. Still, tlic\- were among tlic first to 
lengthen the regular course to three years, and to substitute a system of personal instruc- 
tion, with laboratory practice and frequent recitations and examinations, for the old-time 
dependence upon lectures. This the)- did at a time when such a policy was likely to drive 
away students, as was actually the case. Just before the change was made, the member- 
ship of the School was fift\-eight. When the full effect of the change was felt, namely, 
in 1 88 1, the number of students had dropped to twenty-one, and did not return to the 
earlier figure until after ten )'ears. During these years there was no wavering on the 



part of the Medical Professors, but a determination to adiiere to their policy, with a con- 
fident belief that the public would in time understand and appreciate what they were 
trying to do to secure more thorough education of medical practitioners. 

When President Dwight became the head of the University, he at once espoused the 
cause of the Medical School, and has continued its most steadfast friend. He called 
attention to the fact that while opportunities for clinical instruction and practical manip- 
ulation might be more abundant in the great cities, yet for the scientific part of a 
medical education nothing could be better than connection with a large University in a 
city of moderate size. In this view he was amply supported b)' high medical authority. 
Year after year he expressed his confidence in the School and in the ultimate success 
of its methods. Indications of this soon came in steadily growing classes, in the approval 
of the medical press of the countr)', and " in the many requests, increasing in number. 

which they [the 
sors] receive 
quarters for infor- 
the course of in- 
successful work- 
years from the 
term he was able 
the membership 
multiplied four 
first report, and 
than e\er before 
During the 
mediately pre- 
sion of the course 
gain was made 
clinical instruc- 
pletion of the new 
the advantages 




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Medical Profes- 
from \arious 
mation respecting 
struction and its 
ing." In eight 
beginning of his 
to announce that 
of the School had 
times since his 
was now larger 
in its history, 
years which im- 
ceded the e.xten- 
of study, decided 
in facilities for 
tion. The corn- 
hospital doubled 
which had before 

been enjoyed, and the establishment of the City Dispensary in connection witii the School 
still further increased them. The Dispensary building, adjoining Medical Hall, belongs to the 
School, and was erected in 1889. The chemical equipment was also much improved. From 
the foundation of the School, the Medical and Academical students had occupied the same 
quarters for the study of Chemistry. This became increasinglj' inconvenient, until in 1878, 
a laboratory and lecture-room were fitted up in Medical Hall, and for the first time the 
School was able to give all the chemical instruction under its own roof. At the same time 
important improvements were made in the accommodations needed for Practical Anatomy 
at the private expense of the Professors of Anatomy and Surger}\ 

After the three-years course with its extended demands for individual work was estab- 
lished, and the students began to increase in numbers, the Medical Hall became much 
too small. So a comprehensive plan was adopted for the remodelling of the old build- 
ing, and the erection of a new one. This plan Mas carried out in 189:: and 1893. 
The new building is of brick, three stories, and stands back of Medical Hall. It is 
plain in appearance, but well built and carefully arranged for its uses. It is given up 



entirely to Chemistry and I'hysiology. The changes in Medical Hall consisted in fitting 
up the whole of tiie upper floor as an Anatomical Laboratory, and the wing (formcrl}- 
occupied b)- Chemistr\) as a Hactcriological Laboratory. At the same time the rooms 
of the Microscopical Laboratory were enlarged and improved. 

The buildings of the School are neither numerous nor large, but the)' arc furnished 
with the most approved appliances for laboratory work in the different fields of medical 
investigation. With these wisely used, it is possible to make the School " good in its 
clinical and pre-eminent in its scientific instruction." To accomplish this the more effcc- 
tualh', the Facult\- of the School with characteristic energ\' and ])ublic sjjirit determined 
to take another forward step, and lengthen the course to four years. Due notice ha\ing 
been given, the new course was put into operation in the fall of 1896. Thus the School 
again steps forward into " the fureniost position along with the best schools in the 
country, in carrying out the most advanced and highest ideas of medical education wiiich 
commend themsehes to the leading minds of the profession." 

The lengthening of the course makes the e(iuipinent of the School less than e\cr 
adapted to the handling of \er}- large classes, and these arc not expected. But the 
Faculty fully realize that " a School whose distinguishing mark is the extent to which 
it carries its scientific instruction, and its facilities for making the results of scientific 
in\'estigation tell upon medical practice, will have a range of intluence far transcending the 
numbers who frequent its class-rooms." To accomplish this is the aim and hope of the 
Yale Medical School. 

Mention is made elsewhere of eminent phxsicians among Yale alumni. Owing to the 
circumstances which have been mentioned as hindering the growth of the Medical School, 
the number of its graduates is not large. About twcK'e hundred physicians have received 
their training here, and among them are men well known to the profession and to the 
public as skilful practitioners. Professors in IMcdical Schools, and authorities in certain 
branches of medical investigation. 


Tin; Law School 

THE Law School had an interesting personal origin. The father of the School was 
Seth P. Staples, who had graduated at Yale in the famous Class of 1797 — the Class of 
Henry Baldwin, Lyman Beecher, Samuel A. Foot, James Murdock and Horatio Seymour — a 
class of thirt>'-seven graduating members, one fourth of whom attained national distinction. 
Soon after graduation he returned to New Haven to live, and in time acquired eminence as a 
legal practitioner. His most important work however was that of teaching. He had that 
kindly nature, that interest in the >oung and influence over them, that enthusiasm for 
knowledge and eagerness to communicate it, which mark the true teacher. Possessing 
these qualities and a success in practice which attracted attention and inspired confi- 
dence, he gathered about him a class of young men who wished to study law with him. 
As his practice made large demands upon his time, he was obliged to meet his students 



before breakfast, and we arc told that the\-, in their eagerness to get his instruction, 
would sometimes gather at his house before he was up in the morning, and patiently 
wait for his appearance. That however was not so surprising as it would be now, for 
in those days a recitation before breakfast was the regular thing in College. His method 
of teaching was simple and effective. He did not lecture. He set his pupils to studying 
principles in the text-books, and when he met them talked these over with them, with 
questions, explanations and illustrations. 

As the School grew Mr. Staples secured the assistance of Samuel J. Hitchcock, one 
of his former pupils, who was thus trained to take his place when he gave up the 

School. This he did 
New York to reside, 
to Air. Hitchcock 
But it had b\- that 
importance which 
tion from the Col- 
with 1824, the names 
printed in the annual 
not become a regu- 
the Universit)- until 
Judge Daggett 
and was a relative 
had been President 
lege. Being a young 
and an ardent Fed- 
called into public 
Legislature a num- 
18 1 3, was sent to 
Senate, where he 
After that he re- 
tice for a few years 
was appointed to the 
the State, of which 
Justice in 1833. 
Hitchcock in 1824, 


in 1824, going to 
He left the School 
and Judge Daggett, 
time acquired an 
brought it recogni- 
lege. Beginning 
of its students were 
Catalogue, but it did 
lar Department of 
nineteen years later, 
graduated in 1783, 
of Dr. Daggett who 
pro-tcm. of the Col- 
man of brilliant parts, 
eralist, he was early 
life. He went to the 
ber of years, and in 
the United States 
served one term, 
sumed his law prac- 
until 1826, when he 
Supreme Court of 
he was made Chief- 
\Mien he joined Mr. 
in the conduct of 

the Staples School, he was sixty \ears old, and one of the most eminent citizens of the 
State. His connection with tlic School gave it considerable eclat, and the number of 
students increased from ten in 1826 to forty-four in 1831. His long connection with 
public affairs, and his wide acquaintance with public men, added greatl\' to the value and 
interest of his lectures. 

Judge Hitchcock was a Yale graduate of the Class of 1809. While in College he 
was distinguished for the accuracy of his scholarship, and later for his grasp of funda- 
mental principles, and for the clearness with which he could present them. These quali- 
ties brought him great success as a teacher of law, and admirably supplemented the more 
popular gifts of Judge Daggett. While the fame of the latter attracted students to the 
School, the hard work of teaching them fell mainly to his colleague. 

Under the sole care of these two men the School flourished as long as they retained 


their vigor. Hut when the infirmities of age came on, Judge Daggett being nearly eighty 
years old, another teacher was needed. Accordingly in 1843, Mr. Tounscnd of New 
Haven, an able and accomplished lawyer, was appointed an instructor. Two years later 
Judge Hitchcock died, and Judge Storrs of the Supreme Court of Errors was appointed 
to his place. Hut in 1847, Judge Storrs resigned to return to Hartford, and in the same 
year Judge Daggett withdrew, and Mr. Townsend died. 

Owing to the loss of all its teachers in 1847, the School might hiivc come to an 
end if it had been left to itself. Hut already an important change had been made in 
its relation to the College. In 1843, the degree of Bachelor of Laws was for the first 
time conferred b\- the Corporation upon the graduates of the Law School. This estab- 
lished an organic relation with the College, of which the School nt)w became the ac- 
credited Law Department. Soon after, the teachers of the School became, by formal act 
of the Corporation, Law Professors in the University. Accordingly at their rcmoxal in 
1847, measures were at once taken to organize a new Law I*"acult\-. This consisted of 
Governor Clark Bissell and Hon. Henry Dutton, afterwards Governor of the State and 
a Judge of the Supreme Court of Errors. The patronage of the School and its funds were 
alike so small that the appointment of a larger number of Professors was not warranted. 
Governor Hissell resigned in 1855, and was succeeded by Hon. Thomas H. Osborne, who 
scr\'cd for ten years, and then resigned. 

From 1S65 to 1869, Judge Dutton, then far advanced in years, was the only Pro- 
fessor. The need of a Librar\- and suitable rooms was keenly felt, and, mainlj- owing 
to the lack of these, the membership of the School fell to a low figure, the graduating 
class in 1870, numbering only three. Indeeil, the whole period from 1847 to 1869, was 
one of great discouragement to the. eminent men who, at considerable sacrifice to them- 
selves, were bearing the School upon their shouklcrs. Its friends should cherish the 
memory of these faithful men, who kcj)! it ali\e through con\iction of its importance to 
the cause of legal learning. They had faith to believe that better days were in store 
for it, and they were willing that others should reap the reward of their labors. 

Judge Dutton ser\'ed the School in all for twenty-two years. " He was a sound, 
clear-headed law\-cr, an earnest, skilfiil and persuasive ad\-ocate, a man of unbounded 
courage in undertaking work, and of unflagging industry in performing it. . . . His man- 
ner was frank, heartj' and engaging; his language plain and forcible; and his teaching 
eminently practical and instructive." He died in 1869, and soon after the school was 
thoroughly reorganized. It was first placed in charge of three members of the New- 
Haven Bar, Messrs. Robinson, Baldwin (who during Judge Dutton's last illness- had been 
called in as an instructor for a few weeks in the preceding j-ear) and Piatt, and the\- 
with Hon. Francis W'ayland were in 1872, made full Professors. 

For the first time in its histor\- the School had now a Facult\- adequate in size for 
its proper work, and the position it was entitled to as a department of the L^niversity. 
The assignment of chairs and new appointments since that time have been as follows: 
Hon. Francis Wayland, English Constitutional Law and Dean of the School; Hon. William 
C. Robinson, Criminal Law and Law of Real Propert\-, until his resignation in 1895; 
Hon. Simeon E. Baldwin, Constitutional Law, Corporations and Wills; Johnson T. Piatt, 
General Jurisprudence and Torts, until his death in 1890. In 1878, the I'acultj' was 
enlarged by the appointment of Theodore S. W'oolsey to a Chair of International Law, 



and again in 1881, by the appointment of Hon. William K. Townsend to a new Pro- 
fessorship of Contracts and Admiralty Jurisprudence, which was endowed and named in 
honor of Hon. Edward J. Phelps. The place left vacant b\- the death of Profes.sor Piatt 
was filled for a while by a temporary appointment. In 1894, Morris F. Tyler was chosen 
Professor of General Jurisprudence; in 1895, on the resignation of Professor Robinson, 
George D. Watrous, who had been Assistant Professor since 1892, was made Professor 
of Contracts, Torts and Estates; and in 1897, John Wurts, Assistant Professor since 1896, 
was made Professor of Elementar}' Law, Real Propert}- and Trusts. Two other gentle- 
men, serving as Assistant Professors, namely, George E. Beers and Edward C. Buckland, 
complete the regular Faculty. 

In addition to the permanent teaching force, the School has been fortunate in 
securing the co-operation of distinguished men in the profession who have served as 
Lecturers. Among these have been Hon. Charles J. McCurdy, Hon. Origen S. Seymour, 
Hon. La Fayette S. Foster, Hon. Nathaniel Shipman, Hon. Thomas M. Cooley, Hop. 
Daniel H. Chamberlain, Hon. Morris W. Se\^mour and Hon. V.. J. Phelps. The list of 
Lecturers has also included President Woolsey, Rev. Leonard Bacon, D.D., Professor 
James Hadley and Dr. PVancis Bacon ; also of the present Academical Faculty, Professors 
Wheeler, Sumner and A. T. Hadley. The instruction given hy these eminent men has 
been in subjects be\ond those which are necessar}- to a mere professional study of the 
law. Their purpose has been to " broaden and elevate legal stud\-," as explained in 
1874 by President Woolsey, who added, "nowhere in the United States are these hand- 
maids to a finished legal education brought more elTectively into the ser\'ice of legal 
studies and made more useful than in the Yale Law School." Special mention should 
be made of the W. L. Storrs Lectureship on Municipal Law. This was endowed in 
1889, and named for Hon. W. L. Storrs, formerly a Professor in the Law School. 
The first Lecturer on this foundation was Judge Cooley, and he has been followed by 
other prominent members of the Bar. The number of Lecturers and Instructors, in addi- 
tion to the Professors, is now twenty-six. 

The re-organization of the Faculty in 1869, was followed b)' a successful effort to 
secure suitable accommodations for the School. It had for many }-ears occupied the 
rooms over Heublein's Cafe on the corner of Church and Court Streets. In 1872, the 
new Court House for New Haven county was in process of erection, and the whole of 
the third floor was arranged for the use of the Law School. At the beginning of 1873, 
the School moved into its new quarters, which were " superior to those enjoyed by any 
other similar institution in the country" at that time. An important incidental advantage 
of the location was the proximity of the Courts, several of which were held in the 
same building, furnishing the students unusual opportunities for witnessing the practical 
applications of the law. In return for the advantages and courtesies extended to the 
School, the latter placed its valuable library at the disposal of the Judges and lawyers 
doing business in the building. This arrangement was mutuallj' satisfactor)-, and remained 
in force for over twenty years. 

During the latter part of that time, the accommodations in the Court House, ample 
at first, became wholly inadequate, owing to the increase in the size of the classes. 
So great did the inconvenience of cramped quarters become that a change was absolutely 
necessary. Accordingl)' special efi'orts were made to secure the mone\- needed for a new 



building. Friends of tiic School responded in large numbers, and tills was ground for 
gratitude and encouragement. l^ut the total amount raised was not all that was hoped 
for. The plan of the building provided for two parts, one including all the rooms which 
were .strict!)' necessar)- for the present, the other adding those which would make liberal 
provision for future growth. luiough was secured for the fust part alone. A valuable 
lot on ICIm Street, facing the Cireen, was bought in 1891, and on this the rear part of 
what will hereafter be the whole building was put up in 1894, and was read_\- for use 
in the spring of the following )car. Except for its exterior architectural incom])letencss, 
and its location in the back of the lot, it lea\es little to be desired for the present 
purposes of the Law School. It contains four lecture-rooms of good size, offices, rooms 


for the Professors, and good accommodations for the Librarw The consulting-room of 
the Library- is worthy of special mention, as being spacious, air\- and well lighted. When 
the front section is added, the whole building will doubtless be one of the best for working 
purposes possessed by any department at Yale. 

When the School moved into the upper story of the Court House, special attention 
was paid to the Library, and its value was greatly increased b_\- the generous help of 
friends in New Ha\-en and New York. The School was already in possession of the 
libraries of Judge Hitchcock and Judge Dutton, but they had suffered greatly through 
lack of proper care when the School was in its depressed condition in the few years 
before 1869. The money collected in 1873, over $20,000, was used to supply serious 
deficiencies in the Library, and put it in good condition generally. This action resulted 
in supplying it with " a complete collection of the English, Irish and American reports 
of judicial decisions, and an e.\tensi\e and \aluablc collection of text-books and works 



on jurisprudence, political history and philosophy." In the same year, Hon. James E. 
English presented $10,000 "to serve as a permanent fund for the increase and preser- 
vation of the Library." The latter now contains about nine thousand volumes, and is one 
of the best educational Law Libraries in the countrw 

The Yale Law School has from the first adhered to the method of gi\ing its first atten- 
tion to principles rather than cases. The men who ha\e guided its destinies have always 
believed that the best results for the profession and for the community could be obtained 
onU' by grounding their pupils thorough!}- in the principles of the law, with use of cases 
for illustration, rather than as primary objects of study. 


Another permanent characteristic of the School, impressed upon it by its founders, 
has been the prominence gi\en to the study of te.Kt-books, and to recitations, as against 
a main dependence upon lectures. Thus the first published statement of the law course 
in the Catalogue of 1826, announced that "The students are required to peruse the 
most important elementary treatises, and are dail_\- examined on the authors the\- are 
reading, and receive at the same time explanations and illustrations of the subject they 
are studying." Sevent)- \-ears later, the Catalogue gives the corresponding notice as follows : 
"The method of instruction is largelv that of recitations. It is the conviction of the 



Faculty of this Department, as well as the tradition of the University, that definite and 
permanent impressions concornint; the principles and rules of any abstract science are 
best acquired by the study of standard text-books in private, followed b\- the examina- 
tions and explanations of the recitation-room." 

A third most honorable characteristic of the School was made evident as soon as it 
was full\' adopteil into the \'ale faniil\', and has been retained in conspicuous measure 
ever since. This is its sense of duty to the community and to the cause of hij^dier 
learning; which impels it constantly to extend the field of its usefulness beyond the 
recjuiremcnts of a mere professional trainini^ school. The \'ale Law School has ne\er 
been content niercl>' to prepare lawj-ers to win cases, imi)nrlaiit as that is acknowledged 
to be. In 1845, when it became the Law Department of the College, in addition to 
its regular iindergratluate course, it offered two courses for persons who were not 
professional students; a general course, the object of which was "to communicate 
information to those who wish to attend to Jurisprudence as a branch of liberal knowl- 
edge," and a special course in Mercantile Law with apparent reference to the wants of 
business men. These courses were of necessity omitted for a short time when the for- 
tunes of the School were at their lowest ebb, but were revived after the reorganization 
of iS6y. In iSjj, the Catalogue announced that "A course of study is also pro\ided 
for those who do not intend to engage in the practice of the law, but wish to obtain 
a knowledge of its principles, to complete their education, or with reference to engaging 
in mercantile jiursuits." iVfter i<SS6, the wants of the two classes of persons referred to, 
were provided for in two careful!)" arranged courses which w.ere outlined in the Cata- 
logue. These were, a one-year course " for those who desire some acquaintance with the 
law as a preparation for business life," and a two-}-ears course for those " desiring to 
acquire an enlarged acquaintance with our political and legal systems, and the rules by 
which the)- are governed." Those taking the second course might apply for the degree of 
liachelor of Civil Law. In the remodelling of the courses which occurred in 1896, these 
special courses lost their distinctive character. Candidates for the degree of B.C.L. are 
classed as undergraduates, and are required to stud)' three years, and a general promise is 
made to pro\itle individualh' for those who may wish to take selected studies without 
being candidates for any degree. The introduction of a liberal list of electives into the reg- 
ular course makes it easy to do this, and removes the occasion for putting in the Catalogue 
separate lists of studies for special students. 

Thus the plan so long persisted in, of fm-nishing legal instruction for those who are 
not intending to be lawyers, while still kept in sight, has to a certain extent been merged 
in the movement for raising the standard of attainment for the legal profession. This 
the Vale Law School has undertaken to do in its three-)'ears course, which encourages 
its pupils to lay broad and deep foundations for solid success, and in its graduate course, 
which " is onl)' recommended to those who desire to fit themselves for something more 
than practising lawyers." In doing this, it confers a distinct benefit upon the community, 
as well as upon the legal profession. 

Until 1869, the names of the law students were entered in the Catalogue in a single 
alphabetically arranged list, although the full course of study covered two years. In 1869, 
the students were divided into two classes, and the School entered upon the new period 
of its life with six Seniors and twelve Juniors. Announcement was made that a course 


of study was provided for each class, but it was added, " members of either class may 
attend the exercises of both, and, so far as they are able, are recommended to do so." 
Evidently the course of study was in a somewhat primitive condition, and it remained 
so for a few }-ears. But in 1874, the recommendation to attend both courses was dropped, 
and a graded course appeared in which students were to be advanced from one year to 
the next on passing a written examination on all the studies and lectures of the year. 

The School was now fifty years old, reckoning from the year when its list of students 
first appeared in the College Catalogue. The anni\-ersary was observed on June 24, 1874, 
by public exercises presided over by Hon. Morrison R. Waite, Chief-Justice of the United 
States. President Woolsey read an historical address, and Hon. Edwards Pierrepont de- 
livered an oration. The occasion was indeed one for congratulation, for the School was 
on a better footing than it had ever been before. It was in possession of new and 
commodious quarters, its graduating class and total membership for the year were the 
largest in its histor)-, and it had just adopted a course of study believed to be " more 
comprehensive than that of any other American Law School." 

Down to this time no examination had been required for admission; but in 1873, 
an entrance examination for those who had not taken a College course was established. 
The subjects required were English Grammar, History of England and of the United 
States, and the text of the Constitution of the United States. In 1893, Roman History 
and I^nglish literature were added, and \a 1897, the Latin language. 

Soon after the School entered upon its second half-century, nameh', in 1876, a notable 
step was taken in the interest of more thorough study of the law. Courses of gradu- 
ate study co\ering two years were offered, the studies of the first year leading to the 
degree of Master of Laws, and the studies of the two years leading to the degree of 
Doctor of Civil Law. This was a pioneer movement in the history of law education in 
this countr}-. Instruction had before this been given to graduates at other schools, as 
it had indeed at Yale, but never before, in an\' American Law School, had the mo\-c- 
nient "taken the shape of a definite and permanent scheme of adxanced legal educa- 
tion, closing with the ordinary academical accompaniments of examiiiations, thesis, and 
a degree." The movement met with deserved success. Ten graduates remained for study 
the first year, and graduate classes of varying sizes have been enrolled each year since. 
In 1896, the number A\-as twenty-one. The degree of M.L. has been gi\'en to a feu- 
successful candidates each \ear, with one exception. The higher degree of D.C.L. has 
been awarded much more sparingly. 

While the prestige and usefiilncss of the School has been enhanced by the success 
of its graduate courses, the etibrt has been made to raise the standard of undergradu- 
ate scholarship with a view to the ultimate adoption of the first graduate year as a 
third undergraduate j-ear. In 1882, the degrees were graded so that meritorious students 
thereafter have graduated " emu laiidc" " magna cum laiidc," and " sniiivia ctnii laudd' 
In 1S85, a distinction was made between pass examinations and honor examinations, cer- 
tain studies being designated which all must pass, and further examinations being ofi'cred 
for those who might wish to try for honors. In 1894, the studies were rearranged and 
electives were introduced. 

When the graduate courses were first offered in 1876, it was believed that the views 
of the public with regard to the training needed b)- a lawyer would not support a 



lengthening of the course bc>ond two >cars. It has been the aim of the Yale Law- 
School to prepare tlie way for tills change, both by raising the standard of the twu- 
years course, and b>- liolding up to view the first graduate year as a vcr\- desirable 
one for a practising lawyer. The increasing strength of the School, and advance in 
public opinion, made it possible to inaugurate the change in 1896, in which year a 
class entered for three full \ears of stud}- prior to receiving the Bachelor's degree. It 
was a satisfaction to note that the class was a large one, exceeded in size only by 
two that had ever preceded it. This indicates gratifying public support of the effort 
to secure more thorough legal education. The absorption of the first graduate year into 
the undergraduate course made a change necessary in the basis of award for graduate 
degrees. Notice was accordingly given that in 1898, and thereafter, there would be a 
single year of graduate work leading to both the degrees of M.L. and D.C.L., the 
higher degree being reserved for those who " attain a high standard of proficiency." 

Before 1869, the School was practicall\- a local one, in that its students were mostly 
from Connecticut, and its courses were arranged to meet the needs of the practice in 
this State. Wiien it was re-organized, its curriculum was broadened with a view to giving 
the essentials for practice in any State. This effort has been rewarded b>- increased 
attendance from distant parts of the countr\-, and b\- a still larger relati\e increase in the 
size of the graduating classes. During the j'cars from 1843 to 1869, inclusive, the whole 
number of students was five hundred and forty. Of these only one hundred and ninety- 
five graduated, and no class at graduation was larger than fourteen. For two or three 
years after 1869, the membership of the School continued \cr)- small, then it began to 
rise, and has continued to increase until in 1896, it was two hundred and twent)--four. 
The whole number of its students from 1870 to 1896, inclusive, has been nine hundred and 
eighty, and of these all but two hundred and twenty-two have graduated. The periods 
of time are the same, each twcnty-se\en \'ears, and the figures show not onl\- the vcrj' 
great increase of the School in recent years, but also that a much larger number than for- 
merly in each entering class remain through their course and take their degree at Yale, 
instead of going elsewhere for graduation, or completing their studies in a lawj'er's office. 

No one of the jirufcssional schools has had a more healthful and encouraging growth 
during the past few )'ears than the Law School. In common with the other schools it 
has steadily worked toward a high standard, and it has been especially fortunate in 
carrying public support with it, so that it has seen little if any cause for discourage- 
ment in the past twent_\'-six: \-ears. During that time its students have come in increasing 
numbers from distant States, and after graduation have gone into all parts of the coun- 
try, and to foreign lands. Among its alumni are distinguished men who have borne 
witness to the value of their professional training, and by the importance of their work 
have extended the influence of Yale. They are to be found on the Benches of the 
United States Supreme and District Courts, among the Chief-Justices and Judges of 
several States, as Presidents and Professors of a number of State L'niversities, as distin- 
guished diplomatists, and in other ways prominent in public life in this country and 
in Japan. 



The Sheffield Scientific School 

THE Sheffield Scientific School is a well-organized College, with its own governing 
board, methods of administration, and society system, quite independent of, and 
different from, those of the original Yale College. Yet it is intimately associated with 
the latter under the same University management, and in various undergraduate volun- 
tary activities. "Yale College" aims to give its students an introduction to various 
avenues of mental activit\-, any one of which may after graduation lead to further pro- 

fessional study. Its 
young man's outlook 
his mental and moral 
rather than to give 
ing. The professional 
sity on the other hand 
sion to equip young 
in their respective pro- 
field Scientific School 
occupies a position 
and the professional 
to a certain extent 
urcs of both. " It is 
and researches in the 
cal and natural sci- 
preparation of young 
as require special pro- 
partmcnts of learning. 
gi\en in French, Ger- 
lish, History, Political 
cal Science." It meets 
are attracted by the 
and Physical Sciences, 
modern life are un- 

object is to widen a 
upon life, and develop 
powers s}-mmetrically 
him a technical train- 
schools of the Univer- 
have it for their mis- 
men for actual work 
fessions. The Shef- 
in respect to its aims 
between the College 
school, b\' combining 
the characteristic feat 
devoted to instruction 
mathematical, ph\si- 
ences, and also to the 
men for such pursuits 
ficiency in these de- 
Instruction is also 
man, Spanish, Eng- 
Economy, and Politi- 
the wants of many who 
study of the Natural 
or who in the stress of 

BE^■JA^^N sh-ldlax st.\tl'e 

willing to give four 

years to a general course, to be followed by two or three years of professional study. It 
is strictly a modern institution, the fruit of the marvellous development of the physical 
sciences in the last fifty years. In its special aims, its methods of study, and the treat- 
ment of its students, it is such an institution as could not have been dreamed of by 
the early founders of Yale. Yet in some respects the circumstances of its foundation and 
the basis of its success have been like those of the older College. Both were planted and 
kept alive in spite of great discouragements, and finally succeeded because devoted men 
thoroughly believed in them, and were willing to make sacrifices for them. But the period 
of adversity for the Sheffield School was relatively short, for its membership is now larger, 
and its equipment more complete, than anjthing the older College could have shown at 
the end of one hundred and fifty years from its foundation. 


The first hint of such a School is to be found in the few acl\anced students whom 
Professor Sillinian, Sr., gathered about him, and io whom he gave the opportunity to 
carry on original investigations in Iiis Laboratory. In 1842, owing to the pressure of his 
many public engagements, he turned these pri\atc pupils over to Benjamin Silliman, Jr., 
who continued his father's work in a room in the old Laboratory set apart for the 
puri)ose. This was the germ of the Sheffield Scientific School, concerning which the 
opinion was cxpresscil in the Baltimore "American" at ihc time of President Woolsey's 
death that " the most important educational nunement of the century in America pro- 
bably is the foundation, under his Presidency, of the Sheffield Scientific School of Yale 
University." An eminent educator at the opening of Johns Hopkins University also 
declared it the beginning of true Univcrsit\- education in this counlr\'. It came in 
answer to a new popular demand for technical instruction, csjjecially in chcmistr\-, which 
the classical Colleges did not consider it a part of their mission to give. The period 
was one in which new methods of communication by ocean steam-navigation and by 
electric telcgrajjli were enlarging the field of business enterprise, and awakening new 
ambitions. Chemistry applied to the arts was then in its infancy, and its coming triumphs 
in revolutionizing existing industries and establishing new ones were beginning to be seen. 
Especially were the possibilities of scientific farming through a better knowledge of agri- 
cultural chemistry beginning to be realized, as commercial fertilizers were just coming 
into use. There was consequentl}' an eager demand for a " New Learning," different 
from that of the classical Colleges, and the Scientific School at Yale was a pioneer in 
the effort to meet this demand. It is this which gives it historically its great importance. 

For several years it remained strictly a private enterprise, receiving no recognition 
from the College. But in 1846, Professor Silliman and his son presented a memorial to 
the Corporation setting forth the importance of the new movement, and the desirability 
of giving it official recognition. At the same time a friend offered a small amount 
toward the endowment of a new Professorship if the remainder could be obtained from 
other sources. The Corporation accordingly established two new chairs of instruction, 
namely, Chemistry Applied to the Arts and Agricultural Chemistry. To the first was 
appointed Benjamin Silliman, Jr., and to the second John P. Norton. In the following 
year, the Department of Philosopln' and the Arts was organized to include the newly 
adopted School, and such other graduate non-professional courses as might be given by 
other Professors. It was nominally for graduates, but non-graduates were freely admitted, 
and for a number of j-ears no distinction was made in the Catalogue between the two 
sets of students. 

Professor Silliman, Jr., graduated at Yale in 1837, and then became his father's 
assistant in the work of the department, and in the conduct of the " American Journal 
of Science and Arts." Shortly before his appointment to the new Professorship, he went 
to New Orleans on in\itation from prominent men in that city, and gave a course of 
lectures on Agricultural Chemistry which "it is believed was the first course of lectures 
on that subject given in the United States." From 1849 to 1854, he was Professor of 
Chemistry in a Medical College in Louisville. Returning to Yale in 1854, he took up a part 
of the work of his father, who resigned in that \-ear. Thenceforth for many j-ears he 
was connected with the College and the Medical School. 

Professor Norton was an early student of Professor Silliman's, and at that time 



gave evidence of his great ability. On receiving his appointment in 1846, he went 
abroad for study, and in the following year returned and commenced his work. This 
he did out of pure love for science and for Yale, for there was no salary connected 
with his chair. The proposed endowment mentioned above was not secured. Three hun- 
dred dollars a year came for a few years from the friend who started it, but this went 
only part way toward paying expenses. The old President's house on the College square, 
which President Woolsey did not care to occupy, was leased to the two Professors, who 
at their own expense fitted it up, and here the young school found its first home. 

In 1852, events occurred of considerable importance to the School. At Commence- 
ment in that year the Corporation for the first time granted the degree of Bachelor 
of Philosophy to those who had studied satisfactorily in it for two years. " As 
this involved a final examination, it was the earliest step taken in elevating the stan- 
dard of acquirement, and giving to the School a position and public recognition among 
the other departments of the College." This action of the Corporation was secured 
mainly by the efforts of Professor Norton, and it was his last important work for the 
School, for his death occurred shortly after Commencement. 

As a boy Professor Norton had chosen to be a farmer, and his father had wisely 
decided that he should have the best possible education for that calling. Accordingly, 
during six years he spent his summers in practical farm-work, and his winters in study 
in Albany, Boston, Brooklyn and New Haven. His experiences during these years brought 
home to him with great force the need of scientific agriculture in this country, and 
he determined to prepare himself for the work of teaching agricultural chemistry. For 
the better accomplishment of this, he went to Edinburgh and spent two years in the 
closest application to study. Coming home in 1846, he was appointed Professor of Agri- 
cultural Chemistry at Yale, as before stated, and " this was the earliest establishment, 
in any College in the land, of a Professorship of Agricultural Chemistry, or of Agriculture 
in any special sense." At the time of his death he was " recognized as the most eminent 
authorit)- in this country on matters pertaining to Agricultural Chemistry." Concerning 
the obligation of the Scientific School to him, Professor Brewer says, " I cannot but 
think that his sound common-sense, his brilliant faculties amounting to genius, his zeal 
for science, the self-denying earnestness with which he devoted himself to his chosen 
work, the faithfulness with which he served his pupils, the spirit he infused into them 
and the tone and character he gave to the School and the department, constitute the 
real foundation which has made possible the degree of success the School has since had." 

Professor Norton's successor in the Chair of Analytic and Agricultural Chem- 
istry was John A. Porter, who had just resigned the Chair of Chemistry at Brown 
University. " Professor Porter, besides his scientific attainments, was a man of unusual 
taste in literature, and it is perhaps due more to him than to any one else that the 
direction was early given to the School toward imparting a culture broader than that 
which could be afforded by an education in an)- one specialty. One incidental and 
unexpected result of his appointment turned out to be the most important of all. It 
attracted to the School the attention of his father-in-law, Mr. Joseph E. Sheffield, with 
whose name and memor)- both its present and its future are now inseparably connected." 

Recurring to the events of 1852, in that year a Professorship of Civil Engineering 
was established, and Professor William A. Norton was elected to it. He too had just 



severed his connection witli Brown I'nivcisit)-, and coming at once to Yale, he brought with 
him twenty-six uf iiis pupils. They took possession of tlic attic of the old Chapel, where 
the School of Engineering was conducted until i860. There was at first no connection 
between tiiis School and that of Chemistrj-, except that both were included in the 
Department of Philosophj' and the Arts, and the students of both were candidates for 
the degree of liachelor of I'hilosoph)-. 

Down to this time no distinction had been made between graduates and non-grad- 
uates in the new department. But the Schools of Chemistry and Engineering, with their 

easy terms of ad- 
pect of early rc- 
ployment, natur- 
young men who 
College training, 
suitably classed 
graduates who 
courses offered bj' 
Professors. This 
clca\agc was rec- 
whon the two 
istry and Engi- 
arated from the 
brought together 
under the title of 
School." This did 
new organization. 
con\'cnient way 
students pursuing 
But in 1855-56, 
formal organiza- 
of Metallurgy was 
which George J. 
and Professor 
divided between 
uel \V. Johnson, 
sisting of Profes- 


mission, and pros- 
nuinerative em- 
ally attracted 
had no prexious 
and could not be 
with ihc College 
took the advanced 
the Academical 
natural plane of 
ognized in 1854, 
Schools of Chem- 
ncering were sep- 
other courses and 
in the catalogue 
" Yale Scientific 
not stand for a 
It was simply a 
of classifying the 
those studies, 
there was a more 
tion. A new chair 
established, to 
Inrush was chosen, 
Porter's chair was 
himself and Sam- 
The Facult}- cen- 
sors Silliman, 

Dana, W. A. Norton, Porter, Brush and Johnson, with the President of the University, were 
now constituted a Governing Board to administer the affairs of the School, which was thus 
given an official standing apart from the other courses included in the Department of Phil- 
osophj- and the Arts. 

This increased interest in the School was partly due to Professor James D. Dana, 
who had been from the first its earnest friend and promoter. He called public attention 
to it in an address delivered at the Commencement of 1855, and after that as long as 
his health permitted he gave instruction in Geology to the scientific students without 
pecuniary remuneration. Indeed, with all the Professors in the School, their work from 
the beginning had been, and for a while longer continued to be, largely a labor of 





love. The College needed all the money it could get, and more too, so that it had 
nothing to spare. The School had no funds of its own, and the fees from students 
were small. Yet those in charge of the School labored on with a single-minded devo- 
tion to the advancement of science, and with a manly faith in the future, which cannot 
fail to bring to mind the noble aims and self-sacrificing spirit of the early founders of 
Yale. Indeed, at every important onward step in its career, Yale has been blest in 
commanding the services of just such men, and the}' in turn have won the confidence 
of another class of benefactors, from whom the College has received such great enlarge- 

ment HI recent years, 
pears upon the scene 
Mr. Joseph E. Shef- 

Mr. Sheffield was 
business-men of the 
half of the century, 
business career in 
olina, where he 
with a New York 
soon ga\'e e\idence 
by his successful 
the commercial up- 
lowed the peace of 
the course of a jour- 
South, he went to 
tive village of one 
His keen e\-e at once 
advantages of the 
moved his business 
became one of the 
cotton in the coun- 
tial adviser of Mr. 
the direction of the 
United States Bank." 

North to his native State and chose New Ha\en for his future home. Here he had a 
hand in several important public enterprises of the day. Finding the project of a canal 
to Farmington in a state of collapse, he took hold of it and completed the canal to 
Northampton, advancing the necessary funds. Afterward, seeing among the earliest that 
the railroad was destined to supersede the canal, he advocated the change, obtained a 
new charter, and made the necessary advances. In both these enterprises Mr. Henry 
Farnam superintended the engineering work. " To Mr. Sheffield also belongs the credit 
of being one of the chief projectors of the railroad between New York and New Ha\en." 
He and Mr. Farnam were also engaged in building the Chicago & Rock Island Railroad. 

When Mr. Sheffield became interested in the Scientific School, the cramped quarters 
in the old President's house and the Chapel attic were becoming wholl\- inadequate to 
its growing needs. In 1859, he purchased the Medical building at the head of College 
Street, and remodelled it, adding a wing on each side, the chemical laboratory being 


One of these ap- 
now in the person of 

one of the leading 
country in the first 
He commenced his 
Newbern, North Car- 
formed a partnership 
house in 181 3, and 
of his great ability 
management during 
heavals which fol- 
181 5. After that, in 
ney through the 
Mobile, then a primi- 
thousand inhabitants, 
detected the natural 
place, and he re- 
thither, where " he 
largest shippers of 
tr\', and the confiden- 
Nicholas Biddle in 
Mobile branch of the 
In 1835, he returned 



on the west, and rooms for engineering; and metallurgy on the cast. The building, even 
with these additions, was much smaller than it is now, and lacked the tower in front. 

In the summer of i860, the renovated building was formally presented to the Corporation 
for the Scientific School, which at once mo\cd into its new quarters. Mr. Sheffield also 
rounded out his handsome gift with a fund of $50,000, the income of which was to go 
toward the payment of salaries. The early experience of the College with Governor Yale's 
bount)' was being repeated. As on the former occasion, a fiicntl now appeared when most 
needed, and by his timely gift ensured the continuance of the institution he favored. And, 
as at the "splendid Commencement" of 1718, the College was named in honor of its bene- 
factor, so also at the Commencement of 1 861, Mr. Sheffield's liberality was worthily com- 
memorated by the bestowal of his name on the School, henceforth known as the Sheffield 
Scientific School. 

Mr. Sheffield's gift put the School on a reliable basis, and important changes, indicative 
of confidence in its future, were promptly made. One of these was the rule adopted in 
1859, made operative in 1861, requiring entrance examinations. Another was the lengthen- 
ing of the course of study from two years to three. This was done in the Chemical course 
in 1861, and in the Engineering coarse in 1863. The effect of these measures was highly 
salutary, adding to the dignity of the School, and the value of its instruction, and tending 
to impro\e the quality and industry of its students. 

Tending strongly also in the direction of strengthening the School was the addition of 
Professor William D. Whitney, one of the foremost of living linguists, to its teaching force. 
He was already University Professor of Sanskrit in the Graduate School, and now became 
Instructor of Modern Languages in the Scientific School. Of his connection with the 
School Professor Lounsbury has written, " It was not alone an accession to the direct force 
engaged in teaching that he brought, nor even the moral weight of his acquirements and 
reputation. His presence was a positive element on the side of higher education, inde- 
pendent of the subjects taught. ... In great measure to Professor Whitney's counsels and 
influence must be ascribed the fact that in the Sheffield Scientific School there has never 
been any conflict between the study of Language and the study of Natural Science; that 
the importance of each branch has been fully recognized, and by none more cordially 
than by those engaged in the teaching of the other." 

The School, with its own building and endowment, its organized Faculty, its examinations 
for admission, and its well-defined courses leading to a Bachelor's degree, now took its 
place by the side of the older Yale as a second undergraduate College of the University. 
Its progress has been steady in the scope of its instruction, the size ajid value of its 
equipment, and the number of its students. Starting with two courses. Chemistry and 
Engineering, eight others have been added, so that the whole list now is Chemistry, Civil 
Engineering, Mechanical Engineering, Agriculture, Natural History, Mineralogy and other 
studies preparatory to Geology, Biology preparatory to Mediccil studies, studies preparatory 
to Mining and Metallurgy, select studies preparatory to other higher studies. Each of 
these courses occupies two years, and the whole group is preceded and introduced by a 
general course of one year vhich is obligatory on all who enter the school as Fresh- 
men. At the close of Freshman year each student chooses one of the ten courses as the 
one which he will follow during the remaining two years. One of these courses calls for 
special mention, namely, Agriculture. 



The early interest taken by the Sheffield School in Scientific Agriculture has already 
been mentioned. Concerning this, and the great results which have come from it, President 
Gilman in his semi-centennial discourse said: "Every State in the Union now has its 
College of Agriculture and the Mechanic Arts. It was not so when Norton came to Yale. 
He was a pioneer in the Scientific Agriculture of the United States; and with a longer 
life would have accomplished much more ; for he knew how. He set the pace. When 
his mantle fell upon Porter, a student of Liebig's, twenty-six leading agriculturalists, from 
e\'er}- part of the country, were brought to New Haven for a conference of many days, 
and it would not be difficult to show that this unique prime\-al example of University 


extension had a powerful influence in promoting, on right principles, the study of Agri- 
culture. This was in i860. It was estimated that five hundred persons from a distance 
came here to follow more or less of these lectures and discussions. Consequently, came 
the national grant, associated with the name of Senator Morrill, an enactment due in no 
small degree to influences here put forth. From this congressional bount}', Cornell, Madi- 
son, Minneapolis, Berkely and other Universities of the Western States derive a consider- 
able part of their revenues." 

The Morrill Act referred to was passed in 1862, for the encouragement of instruction 
in Agriculture and the Mechanic Arts. The several States were permitted to use the dona- 
tion for the establishment of new Colleges, or for the endowment of existing ones at 
their discretion. The amount which Connecticut received was $135,000. This sum was too 
small to start a new College with, especially as the Act of Congress decreed that no 



part of it should be expended on buildings. The Sheffield Scientific School, already 
partly equipped for the work, was admirably fitted to carry out the purpose of Con- 
gress in the most eftective and economical manner. Moreover, its selection as the recip- 
ient of the congressional aid would be an appropriate recognition of the pioneer work 
it had already done in the interest of better agricultural education. Accordingly the 
Legislature very wisely granted the interest of the fund to the School on condition that 


tuition money equal to one-half the interest should be remitted to such students as the 
State might designate. At the same time the Governor and other State officers were 
constituted a Visiting Board to inspect the School annually and see that the conditions 
of the grant were complied with. On this basis the State and the College executed 
a contract in 1863, and the interest, amounting to over $6,000, was paid to the School. 
In order to furnish the instruction contemplated in the Act of Congress, the course in 
Agriculture was established, and this, with the provision already made for the Mechanic 
Arts, met the requirements of the Act in the fullest and most satisfactory manner. The 
importance of this aid to the School was very great. It supplemented Mr. Sheffield's 



boLint}' in the most effective manner, and removed whatever element of doubt might yet 
have remained respecting the permanence of the School. 

Beginning with 1863, the income of the fund was paid to the School regularly for 
twent\--four years. In 1886, a desire was manifested in certain quarters to divert the money 
from the School, and accordingly the whole subject of the relations of the School to the 
State and to the Act of Congress was carefully investigated by legislative committees in two 
successive j^ears. The result was the unanimous passage of a resolution by the Legislature 
in 1887, affirming the validit)- of the contract of 1S63. In 1890, Congress supplemented its 
Act of 1862, by making provision "for the more complete endowment and maintenance of 
Colleges for the benefit of Agriculture and the Mechanic Arts now established, or which may 
hereafter be established, in accordance with" the Act of 1862. The additional income was 
paid to the School in 1890, '91 and '92. It was $15,000 the first year, and was to increase 
b)' the addition of $1,000 each year until it amounted to $25,000, which sum was to be 
paid annuall}- thereafter. The friends of the .School naturally supposed that it would re- 
main the permanent beneficiary of the enlarged endowment, and were pleased at the pros- 
pect of the expansion thus made possible. 

But the bounty of Congress had now grown to be so large a "plum" that the 
temptation to make a raid upon it became irresistible. Accordingly^ in 1893, the Legisla- 
ture passed an Act establishing the Storrs Agricultural College at Mansfield, Connecticut, as 
a State institution, and diverting to it the whole amount of the income hitherto paid to 
the Sheffield Scientific School. A clause in the Act of 1S90 appeared to open the way 
for the establishment of a new School, and the pa\mcnt to it of the money granted by that 
Act. But the University authorities considered that the taking from them of the income 
from the earlier fimd of 1862, was a clear violation of contract. Thc\' were the less will- 
ing to submit to this because the)' had more than fulfilled their part of the contract, and 
had incurred considerable expense in providing permanent accommodation for the students 
which it brought to them. Accordingly suit was brought against the State, and the deci- 
sion was in favor of the Sheffield School. The matter was then referred to three com- 
missioners, who unanimously awarded to the Scientific School the whole amount of the grant 
of 1862, with interest since 1S93, when the State had stopped its annual pa\-ment. This 
sum, amounting to nearly $155,000, was paid b_\- the State and added to the funds of the 
School, free from the conditions imposed in 1S63. The College authorities still belie\-ed 
that if the Act of Congress of 1890, were interpreted according to its probable intent, 
the Sheffield School would be the permanent recipient of the benefits of that Act. But 
on receiving from the State the sum awaided by the commission, all further claim was 

During the period of its connection with the State, in addition to the instruction 
furnished according to agreement, an important service was rendered b\' Professor Johnson 
which President Oilman speaks of as follows : " Earh' in the seventies he began to advo- 
cate the establishment of Experimental Stations, and in due time liad the satisfaction of 
seeing them established throughout the Union, while he became Director of that in Con- 
necticut. This achievement alone reflects great distinction on the Sheffield School. If it 
had done nothing but make and uphold this idea, its cost would have been repaid." 

With the expansion of the work of the School has come the necessary enlargement of 
its teaching force. In 1859, Rev. C. S. Lyman was appointed Professor of Industrial 

VOL. I. — 22 


chair was changed to Sheffield Professor- 


Mechanics and Physics. In 187J, ihe title of his 
ship of Astronomy and Physics, and in 1SS4, it was divided, Professor C. S. llasliii-s taking 
Physics, and Professor Lyman retaining Astronom\- inuil he retired as Emeritus Professor, 
in 1889, a vear before his death. From 1863 to 187J, Daniel C. Oilman was Professor of 
Physical anil Political Gcographs". In 1864, William H. Brewer was appointed Norton 
Professor of Agriculture, Addison E. Verriil Professor of Zoology, and Daniel Cady llaton 
Professor of Botan\-. The following \-ear Alfred P. Rockwell was appointed Professor of 
Mining and served until 1868. From 1872 to 1880, General Francis A. Walker was Professor 
of Political Econonn-, and was followed by Henry W. Farnam. In 1871, Oscar D. Allen 

NOKlll SHI'.II'lKl.n HAI.I, 

was chosen Professor of Mctallurgj', and in 1874, was transferred to Analytical Chemistry, 
while Professor Johnson gave his attention more e.Kclusively to Agricultural Chemistry 
until 1896, when he retired as P'meritus Professor. In 1870, William P. Trowbridge was 
appointed Professor of D\-namical Engineering. He retired in 1877, and Augustus J. 
Du Bois was appointed to the chair, frt)m which he was transferred in 1SS4 to that of Ci\il 
Engineering. Charles B. Richards was then elected to the chair, the title of which was 
changed in 1886, to Mechanical Engineering. In 1871, Thomas R. Lounsbur}- was chosen 
Professor of the English Language and Literature, and in 1S73, John V.. Clark became 
Professor of Mathematics. In 1875. William C. Mixter was appointed Professor of Chem- 
istry, and Sidney I. Smith Professor of Comparative Anatomy. In 1882, Russcl H. 
Chittenden became Professor of Physiological Chemistry. In 1893, Horace L. Wells was 
made Professor of Chemistry, and Samuel L. Penfield Professor of Mineralogy, both having 



served as Assistant Professors since 1888. In 1897, Louis V. Pirsson, Assistant Professor 
of Inorganic Geology, was elected Professor of Physical Geology, and Charles E. Becchcr 
Professor of Historical Geology. From 1891 to 1897, Arnold Guyot Cameron was Assist- 
ant Professor of French, and the following are now Assistant Professors: Samuel E. Barney, 
Civil Engineering; Frederick E. Beech, Physics; Wilbur L. Cross, English ; Percy F. Smith, 
Mathematics ; Robert N. Corwin, German ; and Lafayette B. Mendell, Physiological Chemistry. 
In addition to these, the names of many faithful instructors might be given who 
have done their part toward making the Sheffield Scientific Schtxjl what it is to-day. 
But the credit of its success is mainly due to the permanent Professors, for in addition to 


filling their respective chairs of instruction, they have constituted the Governing Board, in 
whose hands practically the entire administration of the School has been left. The Cor- 
poration, in the matter of starting and developing the new College, wisely adhered to its 
traditional policy in the management of the older Yale. The Governing Board was consti- 
tuted, as before mentioned, in 1856. In 1872, it was given a formal organization by the 
election of one of its number as Executive Officer. The choice naturally fell upon Pro- 
fessor George J. Brush, who had been one of the earliest students in the School, had 
graduated in its first regular class, had been a member of the Governing Board since its 
organization, and throughout the history of the School had been largely instrumental in 
making it a success. Professor Brush was chosen at first for one year, then by successive 
elections for longer periods, so that now at the end of twenty-five }-ears of continuous 
service he is still the honored and efficient head of the School with the title of Director. 



As the Scliool expanded its work, tlio need of more room was felt. Responding to this, 
Mr. Sheffield in 1865, enlarged the School building b\- putting up a three-story addition in 
tiie rear, containing chemical laborator\-, lecture-room and librarj-, a tower in front with 
clock and revolving turret containing a telescope, and a smaller tower containing a massive 
pier and a meridian circle. l-'ive years later, in 1870, the School had again outgrown its 
accommodations, and Mr. Sheffield again came to the rescue. He purchased land on 
Prospect Street north of the Sheffield building, and erected on it another building which 
was named \orth Sheffield Hall. Thi.; he equipped throughout. It is built of red brick 
with white brick trimmings arranged in stripes, j)roducing a somewhat unusual effect. It 
was arranged for the uses of the Eng'neering courses, Phjsics and IV)tan\-. In the rear 
a small observatory was built, where time observations were made for the School and the 
city until the Winchester Observatory was built. In 1882, Mr. Sheffield died, leaving his 
home property on Hillhouse Avenue, which joined the School grounds on the east, to the 

School, subject to 
1889, the School 
session, and Mr. 
residence was oc- 
iogical Labora- 
mentioned in this 
but a part of Mr. 
the School. Dur- 
kept it constantly 
its wants, and sup- 
without solicita- 
without any an- 
intention. Among 
aside from land 
were a fund of 
fessors' salaries, 
one-half of a fund 
in 1869, by friends 
its endowment. 

a life interest. In 
came into full pos- 
Shcffi eld's former 
cupied as a Bio- 
tor}-. The items 
account formed 
Sheffield's gifts to 
ingniany \'earshe 
in mind, studied 
plied them, always 
tion, and often 
nounccment of his 
his larger gifts, 
and buildings, 
$130,000 for Pro- 
and more than 
of $150,000 given 
of the School for 
His benefactions to it were in all more than a million dollars. 


In 1891, the increasing classes were again crowding the buildings available for their 
instruction, sufficient room for indi\idual laboratory work being one of the essentials of a 
School of Science. Accordingly a new building was erected during the following year, and 
was named Winchester Hall as a memorial of Hon. Oliver F. Winchester, and in honor of 
Mrs. Winchester who gave the money for it while it was going up. This is, in its outward 
appearance, the most satisfactory of all the Scientific buildings. It has a frontage of one 
hundred and fifteen feet on Prospect Street, is eight\'-four feet deep, and four stories 
high, of red brick with terra-cotta trimmings. A skilful grouping of the large windows 
at once relieves, and adds a touch of grace to, the otherwise plain walls, while the four 
towers at the corners, admirably proportioned to the rest of the building, lift it at once 
above the commonplace of four brick walls, and give it a massive dignity most pleasing 
to the eye. It is designed especially for the courses in Civil and Mechanical Engineering. 
for which large well-lighted rooms are provided on the first and third floors. The second 



floor contains laboratories for work in I'liysics, especially in Electricity as applied to 
Electrical Engineering. The fourth story consists of two large rooms, useful for examina- 
tions and public gatherings. In 1895, the need of more room again became pressing, and 
the Corporation erected a new Chemical Laboratory. This is a red-brick building on 
Prospect Street, at the northern end of the Scientific row. It furnishes table-room for 
chemical manipulation to two hundred and thirty-five persons, and its lecture and recita- 
tion rooms will seat three hundred and twenty-two. It is furnished with the most approved 
appliances for chemical work, and for spectroscopic and other physical work connected with 
Chemistr\-. Abundance of fresh air is supplied by a revolving fan, and fifty-seven hoods 
carrv off the noxious gases. 

I •..-■. 


Mention has been made several times of the increased size of the classes. For the 
first few years, and during the Civil War, the classes were small, thirteen being the largest 
number of graduates in any one year, and the whole number of graduates during the first 
sixteen years being one hundred and thirty-six. Beginning with 1S68, the classes for five 
years graduated in the neighborhood of twenty-five. From 1874 to 1884, inclusive, the 
classes at graduation varied very little from an average of forty-four. Beginning with 1885, 
the fifty mark was safel\' passed, and the classes grew rapidly until 1897, when the grad- 
uating class numbered one hundred and seventy-six. The whole membership of the School 
as shown in the Catalogue of 1896-7 is five hundred and fifty-three. Of these the three 
undergraduate classes number four hundred and eighty-five. 

The School which has grown to such a goodl\- size bears in important respects the 
impress of its earliest years. It was started by a few men who were eager to discover 


and impart scientific kno\vlcdy;e. The few pupil.s wiio came to them were to a considerable 
extent their assistants in exploring the fields of knowledge then beginning to open. For 
such students there seemed little occasion for furnishing anything but an opportunity to 
work; hence they were left to make their own personal arrangements as they pleased, and 
the momentum of this early practice lasted after the numbers had increased and the desire 
to work iiad become perhaps not quite so universal. Furthermore, while the originators 
of the School fully appreciated the importance of fitting their pupils for highest useful- 
ness to tlie community, the time had gone b)- when such men would feel called upon to 
furnish preparation " for service in Church or State." So it has come about that the 
School has no dormitories, and does not require attendance upon religious exercises. In 
these two particulars there is a marked difference between the two undergraduate sections 
of the Universit)-, which may in time lead to important results. The lack of dormitories 
is partly supplied by the students themselves, who ha\e built chapter-houses in connection 
with their societies. But these houses arc open only to members of the respectix'e societies, 
who are thus kept together and apart from their fellow-students more than is the case in 
the College dormitories. That is, the Sheffield students ha\c no adequate substitute for the 
campus life which Vale men so highly prize. While the absence of dormitories is likelv to 
produce its eft'ect upon the Scientific students as Yale men, the entire freedom which 
they enjoy in the matter of attendance upon religious exercises ma\- in time react upon 
the older College. It ma_\- hasten the da_\- wiien the College church, b}- important modifi- 
cations of its relation to the students, will become a true University Church. 

On the twenty-eighth of October 1S97, the .Sheffield .Scientific School celebrated the 
fiftieth anniversar}- of its foundation. The occasion was one of deep interest to the 
friends of the School, as the\' looked back on what it had accomplisheil in the work of 
its teachers and graduates. The commemorati\e address was deli\ered by I'resident Gilman 
of Johns Hopkins University, who recounted the mar\-ellous discoveries of the past fift_\- 
years, and the important contributions of the Sheffield School to the activities of the age. 
Referring to the brotherhood of institutions born during this period, all engaged in ex- 
tending the bounds of knowledge, he gracefully added,- — " I'or one such institution, now 
celebrating its majorit)-, permit me to acknowledge with filial gratitude, the impulses, les- 
sons, warnings and encouragements derived from the Shefliield School, and jMihlicl)- adnul 
that much of the health and strength of the Johns Hopkins University is due to earl_\- 
and repeated draughts upon the life-giving springs of New Haven." 

Concerning the graduates of the School, President Gilman went on to say: " Nearl\- 
two thousand men liave here been graduated, and niaii\- m<irc have been well trainctl, 
according to their aptitudes, in science and in the applications of science to the usefiil 
arts. Many of tiiem have proceeded to higher degrees, or ha\c entered at once upon 
places which led up to a participation in the construction of public works, the conduct 
of industrial establishments, the charge of mills, mines, surveys and explorations, and the 
promotion of public health. Others, and .some of the ablest, have entered upon the study 
of medicine. A large number have been called to chairs of instruction and investigation." 



The Graduate School 

GRADUATE instruction, apart from that leading to one of the three " learned profes- 
sions," was probably not thought of at Yale before the present century. Its begin- 
nings can perhaps be traced in the comprehensive plans of President Dwight, who, as one 
of the founders of the Connecticut Academy of Arts and Sciences in 1799, showed his desire 
to encourage independent research, and the acquisition of knowledge in other fields than 
those which had hitherto been almost exclusively cultivated. " Resident Graduates " came 
here for stud}' during his term of office, but it is not known to what extent their studies 
were other than theological. The catalogue of 18 14, contains the names of seventeen, the 
first official record of their presence, and the list is continued in succeeding catalogues, 
rising in one year to thirt\-one, until 1824, when it suddenly disappears. But in that year, 
" Tlieological Students " are entered for the first time, and the presumption is that they are 
simph' the " Resident Graduates " appearing now under their proper descriptive title. In 
1826, appear the names of four Resident Graduates, and as the students of the three pro- 
fessional Schools are all separately entered, we doubtless have here the first reliable list of 
non-professional graduate students. Three of these were Bachelors of Arts from Amherst 
College, one being Charles U. Shephard, afterward for many years a Professor at Amherst, 
and well known for his mineralogical collections. For the next twenty years, with a few 
exceptions, lists of graduate students appear in the Catalogue, the largest number for any 
one \ear being seven. Among these were Robert McEwen and Gordon Hall, afterward 
prominent clergymen ; B. G. Northrup, the well-known Superintendent of Education in Con- 
necticut ; Noah Porter, James D. Dana and Denison Olmsted, Professors at Yale; and William 
L. Kingsle}-, for many years Editor of the " New Englander." The instruction of this class of 
students is known to have appealed especially to the scholarh' enthusiasm of President 
Woolsey during the years of his Professorship, and their claims alwa\-s received his special 
attention. Professor Thacher also, with his usual forethought, expressed at an early date 
his desire that provision might be made for them. 

In 1 84 1, an important step was taken in the appointment of Edward E. Salisbury as 
Professor of Arabic and Sanskrit. This was the first provision made for the instruction of 
graduate students by other than College Professors whose attention was mainly given to 
undergraduates. It was also the first recognition in this country of the importance of San- 
skrit in the study of language, and. so far as demand for instruction went, was in advance 
of the time For eight years no student presented himself; then two came. They were 
William D. Whitney and James Hadley. The former had taken his first degree at Williams 
College, and came to Yale for graduate study, attracted by Professor Salisbur)-, who was 
the only Professor of Sanskrit in the countr}-. He studied here one year, in 1849-50, then 
went to Germany for three years. He returned to Yale in 1854, and took the Chair of 
Sanskrit which had been vacated for him by Professor Salisbury, who retained the Chair of 
Arabic two years longer. 

Professor Whitney's appointment came at a time when the Graduate School was begin- 
ning to emerge clearly to view as a distinct section of the new Department of Philosophy 


aiul llic Arts. This, as is elsewhere stated, commenced in 1847, and was opened to "grad- 
uates and others." Near there were eleven students, five of whom were undergraduates. 
Contrary to e.xpectation, the number of the latter greatly increased, so that in 1852, it was 
found best to classify them in separate Schools of Chemistry and Engineering, leaving two 
graduates who were not pursuing those studies. These were Daniel C. Gilman and Hubert 
A. Newton. In 1854, the \ear of Professor \\'hitne\'s appointment, the courses in Chemis- 
tr\- and Engineering were brought together under the title " \'ale Scientific School," and 
the following \ear a scheme of lectures and instruction designed especially for gratluates 
not in tiie .Scientific School appears. 

In 1861. the degree of Doctor of Philosophy was conferred for the first time, and its 
recipients were Eugene Schu\ler, James M. W'hiton and .Arthur W. Wright. These three 
scholars, since so well known in their respective lines of worU, were, so far as academic 
form goes, the first fijiished product of the Yale Graduate School. Yale was the first in- 
stitution in the L'nited States to confer this degree on the basis of at least two \ears' re- 
sident graduate work, with a final examination and thesis gi\ing exidence of high attainment. It 
furnished to young men of ability and ambition, but moderate means, the opportunitv to 
cam this most highl>" prized of all academic degrees without going abroad, and at the same 
time gave a notable impulse to the cause of acKanced scholarship in the l'nited States. 

The award of the degree in 1861, gave consistencj' and dignit\' to the courses leading 
to it, though much remained to be done in the wa\' of development .ind further organiza- 
tion of a Graduate School. In 1872, the Department of Philosophy and the .Arts was re- 
organizeil, as elsewhere mentioneil, so as to include all the sub-deixutments of instruction 
outside the three Professional Schools, and the graduate students, both of letters and science, 
in the new Department, were entered in a single list in the Catalogue. .At the same time the 
Graduate School was given a definite organization by the appointment of an E.\-ecutive Com- 
mittee to " receive and record the names of applicants for instruction, ,ind judge and ap|Move 
the courses of study |)ropt)sed." Shortly after, the number of degrees to be awarded in the 
School was increased. These at first were Doctor of Philosophy and Civil P-ngineer. In 
1873, that of Mechanical luigineer was added. In 1874, the degree of Master of Arts, hither- 
to given in course to Bachelors three )ears after graduation on pa_\-ment of fi\e dollars, was 
rescued from its comi)arati\e worthlessncss as a certificate of longevity and pecuniary abilit\-, 
and was made to depend upon one j-ear of non-]irofessional study. In 1897, the degree of 
Master of Science was established. 

In 1892, the organization of the School was further improved by the appointment of 
Professor A. T. Hadley as Dean. At the same time a step of much significance was taken, 
in the opening of the School to the graduates of Women's Colleges, who were invited to 
come here and stud\- for the degree of Doctor of Philosoph}-. This practical recognition of 
the needs of women, and of their riidit to participate in the advantages of the more highly 
specialized courses to be found onl\- at the larger Universities, was accorded to them in New 
ICngland first at Yale. This move was received with much interest in academic circles, and 
has met with a fair measure of success. The matter of pecuniary assistance, combined with 
honorable recognition of merit, was also taken up. I'ive fellowships of $400 each, and 
twenty scholarships of $100 each, were established b}- the Corporation. These were to be open 
to all members of the School, though the fellowships were to be given by preference to 
students in their second year who had shown marked ability in the first. In 1895, Professor 


Phillips succeeded Professor Hadley as Dean, and was established in a convenient office 
where he zealously looks after the interests of the School. In 1896-7, its membership was 
t\vo hundred and twenty-seven, including thirty-one women, an increase of fourfold in ten 

The Faculty of the School consists of the Professors of the four sub-departments of 
the Department of Philosophy and the Arts, with Lecturers and Instructors wherever avail- 
able, and University Professors whose time is given mostly to research. The latter have 
been few in number, owing to the very limited resources of the University. One of Yale's 
greatest needs to-day is large endowment for University Professorships which will furnish 
opportunities for lives devoted to the highest work of the scholar, such as are hardly pos- 
sible when time and strength are mainly given to undergraduate teaching. It is no dis- 
paragement of the work of the teacher to say that in practice it is apt to interfere with 
the best work of the scholar. Both are necessary to the highest usefulness of a University, 
but in the assignment of work, the best results can be obtained by a judicious release of 
some from undergraduate teaching, rather than b\' the requirement of substantially the 
same amount from all. The University Professorship furnishes the golden opportunity for 
ad\ancing the bounds of knowledge along scholarly lines. 

Mention has been made of the appointments of Professors Salisbury and Whitney. In 
1866, Othniel C. ;\Iarsh was appointed Professor of Palaeontology. His work has been done 
mainl}- in connection with the Peabody Museum. In 1871, Josiah W. Gibbs was appointed 
Professor of Mathematical Ph\sics. In 1877, Samuel Wells Williams, the well-known and 
eminent student of Chinese language and history, accepted a Professorship of Chinese, 
which he kept until his death in 1884. In 1886, William R. Harper came as Professor 
of Semitic Languages, and Arthur T. Hadle\' was appointed Professor of Political Science. 
These appointments awakened much interest, and the membership of the School was nearly 
doubled in five years. At the end of that time Professor Harper left to assume the duties 
of President of the Chicago University, and Professor Hadley was transferred to the Chair of 
Political Economy in the College. In 1S95, Edward W. Hopkins was appointed Professor 
of Sanskrit to succeed Professor Whitney, who died in 1894. 

From the date last given it will be seen that Professor Whitney was connected with 
the Graduate School for forty years, which is substantially the whole period of its existence. 
In a certain sense he was the gift of Professor Salisbury to Yale. It was Professor Salis- 
bury who as his teacher in 1 850, discovered his special gifts and encouraged him to 
cultivate them, then in 1854, made a place for him by giving up to him a portion of his 
own work, and again in 1869, made it possible for him to remain here by endowing for 
him the Chair of Sanskrit and Comparative Philology. In that \-ear President Eliot 
signalized the first month of his Presidency by inviting Professor \\'hitney to Harvard, 
and the latter would ha\'e felt constrained by financial considerations involving the 
welfare of his family to accept, had it not been for the prompt and generous action of 
his former teacher and life-long friend. Concerning this invitation Professor Lanman of 
Har\ard has said, " It reflects no less credit upon Mr. Eliot's discernment of character and 
attainments than upon Mr. Whitne\-'s surpassing gifts, that the youthful President should 
turn to him, among the first, for aid in helping to begin the great work of transforming 
the Provincial College into a National University." Professor Whitney gladly remained at 
Yale and made it a centre of Philological stud\- for the countrj-. Of his work here Dr. 



Ward of the "Independent" has said, "What Harvard did for the science of life in America 
through Agassiz, Yale did for Inilo-Kuropcan philology through Whitnej-." 

Important agencies in carrying on the work of the School are the clubs, of which there 
arc now eleven, namely, the Classical, ^Mathematical, Political Science, Philosophical, Semitic, 
Biblical, Comparative Religion, Modern Language, English, Physics Journal and Mngineers, 
Clubs. The older ones are in a measure rexivals of earlier organizations for the ])roniolion 
of original research; but in their present form they ha\e appeared within the past twenty 
)'ears, and most of them quite recently. Their niL-mbersliip consists of the instructors and 
graduate students in the department of stud\' indicated b_\- the name of the club. 'J'hcir 
meetings furnish opportunities for interchange of views between teachers and pupils, and 
thus supplement in a most useful way the more formal instruction of the class-room. In 
the language clubs, authors are read and discussed. In nearl\- all, papers arc presented 
which embody the results of indi\itlual investigations, and the most important of these have 
been subscquentl\' read before various larger organizations and printed in their transactions. 
The Ph)'sics Journal Club does not aim at research, but has for its object the reading and 
discussion of the \'arious periodicals in the field of Physics. Several of the clubs have 
rooms set apart for their use, and the Classical Club is especially fa\orcd in ha\ing a 
commodious, well-lighted room, and a good working-library of its own. For some years it 
occupied the upper story of the " Old Chapel ; " but when Phelps Hall was completed, it 
moved into the top story of that beautiful building, where it enjoys its present quarters, 
exceptionally well arranged and located for qtu'et iminterruptcd work. The opening of the 
club-room in 1896 was observed with public e.Kercises in the Chapel, where an address was 
delivered by Professor Gildersleeve of Johns Hopkins Universit}-, followed by a social 
gathering of classical scholars from diffej-ent parts of the country. During the evening, 
announcement was made that iMr. Scars of Bostttn had purchased and presented to the 
University the valuable classical library of the late Ernst Curtius, the distinguished historian 
of Greece. This had been pronounced by competent authority in Berlin, " the most 
valuable librarv in its department which had been offered for sale in Germany since 1870." 
A considerable part of this choice collection of books was placed on the shcl\-cs of the 
Classical Club, where they " increase in a marked degree the facilities for advanced work in 
the classics." 

A part of the work of the Graduate School is done in connection with the American 
Classical School at Athens. The Soldiers' Memorial P'ellowship at Yale is conferred upon a 
Yale graduate who has shown special proficiency in Greek. It may be held five years, and 
a part or all of that time may be spent at the School in Athens. During ten of the 
fifteen years since the School started, Yale has been represented by six Soldiers' Memorial 
Fellows. Four other Yale men have studit-d there, so that out of the seventy-three students 
going from the twent\--threc Colleges co-operating in the support of the School, ten have 
gone from Yale, a number exceeded by Harvard alone. Four of the Directors also, 
including Professor Richardson, the present head of the School, have been graduates of 
Yale, which from the first has been one of the most active promoters of the enterprise. A 
similar school for Latin classical study has been started at Rome, and Professor Peck of 
Yale is to ser\'e as its Director during the year 1898-9. 

The Graduate School claims to be non-professional. This claim rests partly on the 
fact that the School does not train its students for one of the three traditional " learned 


professions." It also rests partly on the theor\- that the School seeks to promote culture, 
to strengthen scholarly habits of life and thought, and to widen the fields of knowledge, 
quite apart from any use which may be made of these acquisitions as capital in the 
ordinary work of life. It is earnestly hoped that this ideal may be realized in future years, 
when a goodly number of young men and women may be able and willing to lengthen 
the period given to a general education before commencing special preparation for a 
particular calling. At present, however, the School is in fact largely a professional one, 
furnishing such an equipment as is most useful to the teacher. Its great academic prize, 
the Ph.D. degree, is sought mainly by those who expect to teach, and is valued largely 
because it helps its possessor to secure a College Professorship. Such being the case, 
attention is naturally called to the success of a School in fitting its students for the higher 
walks of the teacher's calling, and in this respect the record of the Yale Graduate School 
is a most honorable one. In the Chicago University, out of fifty-nine Doctors of Philos- 
ophy on the Faculty above the grade of Instructor, eleven received their degree from 
Yale, a larger number than from any other institution. Harvard coming next with six. In 
all, over one hundred and thirty Professors in different Colleges and Universities have 
studied at the Yale Graduate School since i860, but not all have completed the course 
for a degree. They are widely distributed in the United States, the British Provinces and 

During the past ten years, a number of graduates of the Swedish Colleges, Augustana 
and Gustavus Adolphus, have been to Yale for their Doctor's degree. The movement of 
these Swedes to Yale, especially in view of the fact that most of them have specialized in 
Philosophy and Biblical studies, has signified more than the individual preferences of the 
persons concerned. It has been from the first the subject of much interest and careful 
deliberation in the Swedish Lutheran bod_\- in the United States, and the confidence thus 
shown in the University opens for the latter a most promising and important field of 

In Japan the name and work of Yale are well-known through the gifted men who have 
come here for study, mainly in the Law and Graduate Schools, and on returning to their 
own country have occupied high positions in political and educational life. An interesting 
episode in the relations of Yale to educational work in Japan was the threefold invitation 
extended to Professor Ladd by the Trustees of the Doshisha, the teachers of the summer 
school at Hakone, and certain gentlemen of Tokio who were interested in education. 
Complying with this invitation, Professor Ladd spent the summer of 1892 in Japan, deliver- 
ing lectures on Philosophy, especially the Philosophy of Religion. His reception was most 
cordial, and his lectures, given three times in as many places, were well received by large 
and attentive audiences. One result of his visit was additional interest in Yale, and desire 
to secure its advantages, which have brought an increased attendance of Japanese students. 
It is safe to say that, of American Universities, Yale occupies at present the first position 
of influence in Japan, and it seems reasonable to believe that the j-ears spent here by 
men now in influential positions in that country have helped to prepare the way for the 
liberal policy of the Empire which throws open to Christians the highest ofiices in the 
State. Xor, in the matter of maintaining peaceful and friendly relations between the United 
States and Japan, can it be a matter of indifference that scholarl)' men of the two countries 
have worked together, and have learned to respect antl trust each other. 




The Art School 

YALE'S interest in Art is inseparably connected with the name of Trumbull, the histori- 
cal painter of the Revolution. John Trumbull was a citizen of Connecticut, and a 
son of Jonathan Trumbull who was Governor of the State throughout the Revolutionary 
War and the friend and counsellor of Washington. He graduated at Harvard in 1773, 
joined the arm\- at the opening of the war, was Aide to Washington at the Siege of Boston, 
soon after served for 
and resigned in 1777. 
had given evidence 
drawing, and now 
occupation. Shortly 
war, realizing the 
of the Revolutionary 
interest posterity 
scenes and heroes, 
improve himself as 
purpose he studied 
then returning, he 
through the couii- 
of men who had 
part in the Re\ulu- 
land and F"rance, 
with Adams and 
ters to those coun- 
tcrested in his plans, 
of twelve historical 
important events of 

Eight of these were 
in the Yale collec- 
" Battle of Bunker 
General Montgom- 
Quebec," "Battle of 


awhile under Gates, 
In his early years he 
of marked abilit)' for 
resumed his favorite 
after the close of the 
momentous nature 
struggle, and the 
wuukl take in its 
he set to work to 
a painter. For this 
several years abroad, 
travelled w i d e 1 y 
trv, making studies 
plavcd a prominent 
ti<jn. While in Eng- 
after consultation 
Jefferson, our minis- 
tries, who were in- 
he projected a series 
paintings of the most 
the Revolution, 
completed, and arc 
tion. The)' are. 
Hill," "Death of 
ery in the Attack on 
Princeton," " Cap- 

ture of the Hessians at Trenton," " Death of General Mercer at the Battle of Princeton," 
" Declaration of Independence," " Surrender of Burgoyne," " Surrender of Cornwallis," and 
" Resignation of Washington." The first two " are justh- called the finest examples of 
American Historical Painting." The " Battle of Bunker Hill " was the artist's first achieve- 
ment in this line, and has an interesting history besides, for it probably contributed to 
the saving of his life in Paris during the French Revolution after his name had been 
placed on the list of the " suspected." When the painting was on exhibition in England, 
the absence of horses attracted the attention of PLnglish critics who sneeringly asked, " Does 
not this American painter know what a horse is?" But the artist, who witnessed the battle, 



had made no mistake, for on that occasion the officers on both sides were on foot an 

unusual circumstance. Enlarged replicas of the last four he placed in the rotunda of the 
Capitol at Washington, a work which he executed between 1817 and 1824, in fulfilment 
of a commission from Congress. 

The " Declaration of Independence " is probably the best known of his works, and in 
executing it he spared neither labor nor expense to secure good portraits of the distin- 
guished men it contains. It is on these historical paintings, together with a few life-size 
portraits, that his fame rests. Among the latter are the portraits of Washington, John Jay, 
Alexander Hamilton and George Clinton, painted for the city of New York, and the well- 
known full-length figure of Washington standing by his horse on the evening before the 
Battle of Princeton. This the artist himself considered the best of all his portraits, and 
he with others presented it to Yale. It was painted in 1792, on an order from the city 
of Charleston, but as it afterward transpired that a civil rather than a military pose was 

of Washington as 
South, and the one