FROM THE REV. EMERSON DAVIS, D.D."Westfield, Mass., November 16, 1849."Dear Sir: You have requested me to give you my impressions and recollections of President Moore. They are all exceedingly pleasant, and yet I must say he was a man of such equanimity of temper and uniformity of life, that I am unable to single out one act or saying of his that produced a deeper impression than others."My first introduction to him was in the spring of 1818, when I was ushered into his study with a letter of recommendation for admission to Williams College. It was to me a fearful moment, but the cordial manner in which I was received, and his kind inquiries after his friend who had furnished me with a letter, made me at once easy in his presence. I found that he had the heart of a man, and through an acquaintance of several years, to the time of his death, he manifested the same kindness and cordiality that he did the first time I saw him."He was a man of medium stature, rather corpulent, his complexion sallow, the top of his head nearly bald, there being a slight sprinkling of hair between the forehead and crown. His voice, though not loud, was clear and pleasant, and in animated conversation and in the pulpit pitched upon the tenor key."He was dignified in his appearance, serious in his aspect, instructive and agreeable in his conversation, kind and benevolent in his feelings, modest and unassuming in his manners, deliberate and cautious in coming to a conclusion, but firm and determined when his position was taken. If a student had at any time spoken against him, he would have been regarded as a rebel against law and order. In managing cases of discipline, he was calm and entirely self-possessed.In preaching, he had very little action; and yet there was an impressiveness in his manner that fixed the attention of his hearers. In the more animated parts of his discourse, his utterancebecame more rapid, and the sound of his voice shrill and tremulous, showing that he felt deeply the force of the sentiments he uttered. In his religious views, I know not that he differed from the great mass of the orthodox clergy of New England, of his day."Such are my recollections of President Moore."Yours truly,"Emerson Davis."
FROM THE REV. EMERSON DAVIS, D.D.
"Westfield, Mass., November 16, 1849.
"Dear Sir: You have requested me to give you my impressions and recollections of President Moore. They are all exceedingly pleasant, and yet I must say he was a man of such equanimity of temper and uniformity of life, that I am unable to single out one act or saying of his that produced a deeper impression than others.
"My first introduction to him was in the spring of 1818, when I was ushered into his study with a letter of recommendation for admission to Williams College. It was to me a fearful moment, but the cordial manner in which I was received, and his kind inquiries after his friend who had furnished me with a letter, made me at once easy in his presence. I found that he had the heart of a man, and through an acquaintance of several years, to the time of his death, he manifested the same kindness and cordiality that he did the first time I saw him.
"He was a man of medium stature, rather corpulent, his complexion sallow, the top of his head nearly bald, there being a slight sprinkling of hair between the forehead and crown. His voice, though not loud, was clear and pleasant, and in animated conversation and in the pulpit pitched upon the tenor key.
"He was dignified in his appearance, serious in his aspect, instructive and agreeable in his conversation, kind and benevolent in his feelings, modest and unassuming in his manners, deliberate and cautious in coming to a conclusion, but firm and determined when his position was taken. If a student had at any time spoken against him, he would have been regarded as a rebel against law and order. In managing cases of discipline, he was calm and entirely self-possessed.
In preaching, he had very little action; and yet there was an impressiveness in his manner that fixed the attention of his hearers. In the more animated parts of his discourse, his utterancebecame more rapid, and the sound of his voice shrill and tremulous, showing that he felt deeply the force of the sentiments he uttered. In his religious views, I know not that he differed from the great mass of the orthodox clergy of New England, of his day.
"Such are my recollections of President Moore.
"Yours truly,"Emerson Davis."
The following tribute to one of Dartmouth's most eminent and honored teachers is from a "Discourse" by Professor (now President) Brown.
"Charles Bricket Haddockwas born in that part of Salisbury, N. H., which is now Franklin, June 20, 1796. His mother was Abigail Webster, an older sister of Ezekiel and Daniel Webster. She had two children, Charles and William. She was a person of uncommon excellence and loveliness, a favorite with her brothers, who always spoke of her with great affection. She was a religious woman, and on her death-bed manifested great solicitude for her sons, especially dedicating the oldest, Charles, to the Christian ministry. This expression of feeling was almost the only recollection which Mr. Haddock had of his mother.
"The place of his birth was retired, but full of rural beauty; the rushing Merrimac-making sweet music of a summer evening, the broad intervals basking in the summer sun, the granite mountains 'dumbly keeping watch all round,' from whose summits, looking almost to the White Hills on one side, and almost to the sea on the other, you would behold a landscape picturesque and lovely beyond the power of description. The quiet scenes of his youth, the simple pleasures, and the common amusements of village life, varied with few excitements, could not have been without their effect upon the mind of a sensitive boy. To what age he was left to these alone, I do not know.
"He fitted for college mainly at the academy in Salisbury, and entered in 1812. Nature had done more for him than his instructors, and he very soon took the position, which he ever maintained, as intellectual leader in a class, which, thoughsmall, numbered among its members several young men of distinguished ability. In that little community he was at once the best scholar and the most popular man. 'In looks,' writes one of his class-mates,[41]'Haddock was decidedly the most striking man in the class. He was tall and well-proportioned. He had an intellectual cast of features, a well-chiseled profile,—and altogether you might pronounce him a man intended for a scholar, and destined, if he lived, to make his mark in the world. I, who entered college a mere boy, singled him out the first day. He was always an industrious student. He never failed of a recitation, so far as I can remember, and he never failed to be prepared for it.'
[41]Professor Torrey, of Burlington.
[41]Professor Torrey, of Burlington.
"Adding thus to the distinction of attainment and scholarship so much beauty of person, so much modesty, gentleness, and propriety of demeanor, it was natural that he should be regarded as a model young man, nor was there wanting that profounder moral element, without which no character can be complete.
"The year 1815 was memorable in the religious history of the college. The period immediately preceding had been marked by unusual religious depression. In some classes only one person, and but a few in any of them, made profession of a serious religious purpose. Of this small number, there were some, however, whose feelings were deep, and whose lives were exemplary. To them,—not more, perhaps, than eight or ten in all,—was due, under the Divine favor, the moral regeneration of the college. First among those who, in that 'Great awakening,' avowed his purpose of a new life, was Mr. Haddock, then in the summer of his Junior year. The avowal was open, unreserved, and decisive, and, it is almost unnecessary to add, produced a strong sensation. From that time no one in college exerted a more positive influence in favor of personal religion, and not a few traced their own most serious thoughts to his example and to his faithfulness.
"This change in his feelings naturally determined his course in life, and immediately after taking his first degree he entered the seminary at Andover as a student in Theology. Here he pursued the profound and difficult studies of his professionwith a more than ordinary breadth of scholarship, mingling classical and literary studies with those of theology, but entering with zeal and a chastened enthusiasm into all the duties and requirements of the place.
"He remained at Andover about two years, when, on account of a threatened pulmonary complaint, he made a journey to the South, going as far as Savannah, and spending the winter in various parts of the Southern States. Having performed a considerable part of the tour on horseback, he returned, in 1819, invigorated in health, and with a mind enlarged and liberalized by what were then quite unusual opportunities of observation and society, and was at once appointed to the newly established chair of Rhetoric, at the early age of twenty-three years. The college had but just gained the victory in its desperate struggle for existence. It was poor, but hopeful, and it moved forward with a policy of enlargement, determined to keep pace with all advancing learning and culture.
"Before that time, the duties of the new department had been distributed among all the college officers, and necessarily must have lacked something in fullness and method. No other New England college, except Harvard and Yale, then possessed such an officer, and the first appointment to the post in New Haven bears date but two years earlier."
"As an instructor, Professor Haddock was one of the best I ever knew. I never knew a better. It is with unfeigned gratitude that I remember my obligations to him, and I know I speak for thousands. As a critic, he was discriminating and quietly suggestive, guided by a taste that was nearly immaculate. His scholarship was unobtrusive, and his manner without ostentation. He made no pretense of knowledge, but it was always sufficient, always fresh, always sound. The range of his thought was broad. His mind was versatile and active. You could hardly find a subject with which he was not somewhat familiar, or in which he would not readily become interested. His opinions were never fantastic, nor exaggerated, nor disproportioned. He was not, perhaps, so exacting nor so stimulating a teacher as some, but he was careful, clear, distinct, and encouraging. He saw the difficulty in the mind ofthe pupil, if there was one, adapted himself with admirable facility to his wants, and by a lucid statement, a test question, or a distinct suggestion, would often free a subject from its obscurity, so that the way would all be in clear sunlight. He felt that, in education, the best results are not produced violently, but by influences quiet and protracted, gradually, but potently, moulding the affections and the life, 'finely touching the spirit to fine issues.'"
"In 1846, Professor Haddock published a volume of 'Addresses and Miscellaneous Writings,' gathered from reviews, and from his speeches before the New Hampshire Legislature, and on various public occasions. These are marked by the peculiar completeness and finish which characterized all his productions. There is in them no superfluous word, no affectation, no straining after effect, but much that is wise and everything that is tasteful. Yet, interesting as they are, I hardly feel as if they give an adequate expression of his rich and varied abilities. His more recent writings,—notes of foreign travels, lectures, and discourses,—he had begun to prepare for the press, when he was so suddenly taken from us, and I am glad to hope that some of them may yet see the light.
"For many years Professor Haddock acted as secretary of the New Hampshire Education Society. In discharge of the duties of this office, sometimes little more than a sinecure, he made it an object to bring before the society, in his annual reports, subjects of permanent interest. In looking them over, I perceive such topics as these: 'Objections to Charitable Education,' 'The Standard of Education for the Pulpit,' 'The Influence of Educated Mind,' 'Personal Qualifications for the Pulpit,' 'Manual Labor Institutions,' 'The Clergy the Natural Advisers of Young Men,' 'Personal Piety in Candidates for the Christian Ministry,' 'Wisdom in Clergymen,' 'The Eloquence of the Pulpit as affected by Ministerial Character.' These addresses, somewhat brief, never impassioned, are full of excellent suggestions, both to the laity and the clergy. They abound in practical wisdom, and any one may read them with profit.
"In all his writings his style was unambitious, unaffected,chaste, pure, and transparent as crystal. It was true to his subject and himself. If not fervid and vehement, it was because of his moderation and self-restraint; if not pungent and dogmatic, it was marked by sustained earnestness and finished beauty. If he had not predominantly that power which is called by the older rhetoricians amplification, he eminently had another, as rarely met with in perfection, the power of exact, unincumbered, logical statement. There was sometimes in him a reticence as admirable as it was unique. You wondered why he did not say more, and yet if he had, it would only have injured the effect. The word exactly fitted the sentiment. The idea was insphered in the expression. There was no excess or extravagance in anything he did or said. His thoughts glided softly and sweetly from his pen, as a rivulet from a silver fountain.
"I have sometimes thought that Professor Haddock's intellectual powers were nowhere displayed to more advantage than in the mingled grave and gay, learned and mirthful intercourse of social life. The very tones of his voice, sympathetic and attractive, the absence of dogmatism, or superciliousness, or self-assertion,—the mingled deference and independence, the clear and sustained thought, the ready insight, the quick apprehension of proprieties, the intelligent, dexterous, but never caustic reply, the sure appreciation of the feelings of others, and the power of making them, even the lowliest, feel that what they said was listened to with interest,—the sense of the droll and ludicrous, the responsive laughter, not boisterous, but hearty, bringing tears into the eyes,—all gave a peculiar charm to this form of intercourse. It was a ministry of beneficence, diffusing kindness, intelligence, and gentleness, enlivening many a dull hour, filling many a vacant mind, and inspiring many a worthy purpose.
"'Great openness and candor, good sense, the reading of a scholar, the originality of a man who sometimes thought for himself, aspirations after excellence much higher than those of many others,—all these traits came out in his familiar talks, in which he rather unbent than exerted himself; at the same time he was as gentle and attentive a listener as a man could wish, a truly sociable being, with whom youcould talk all day, and then all night, and never feel weary.'[42]
[42]Professor Torrey.
[42]Professor Torrey.
"In 1850, he received from Mr. Fillmore the appointment ofChargé d'Affairesat the court of Portugal, and in the spring of 1851 sailed for Lisbon, by way of England. I have the best means of knowing that, while at Lisbon, his intercourse and influence with the Court, and with the representatives of all the great powers, was most acceptable and most salutary. His residence in Portugal was in many ways delightful. The delicious climate, the cultivated and refined society of the diplomatic circle, temporary rest from labor, and change of scene and occupations, were all sources of pleasure. Yet here he was touched by one of his deepest sorrows, for at Lisbon, November, 1851, 'by the side of Philip Doddridge, in the English cemetery,' he buried his youngest son, a beautiful boy of eleven years.
"He returned from Portugal early in 1856, after an absence of nearly four years; and, having previously terminated his connection with the college, spent the remainder of his life at West Lebanon."
Prof. N. S. Folsom says:
"Professor Haddock was the 'orator suavi loquenti ore,' and he was much more than this. Both by precept and example he raised the standard of speaking and writing among the students, and stimulated them to the pursuit of a manly eloquence. There also prevailed a very general conviction of his sincerity and moral earnestness, and of his interest in our successful career in life. The themes he gave led us to discriminate both intellectually and morally, and if he thought the theme worthily treated, a kind note in the margin of the sheet was sure to tell us so. The spirit in which he met the class was that of the closing paragraph in his Phi Beta Kappa Oration of 1825: 'Young men of my country, God has given you a noble theatre, and called you into life at the most interesting of all times. Forget not that you are descendants of men who solemnly dedicated themselves and their posterity through all coming time to the cause of free and enlightened reason—unrestricted divine reason—the portion inscribedon our hearts of the universal law, 'whose seat is the bosom of God, her voice the harmony of the world.' Occasionally he preached in the Hanover village church, where the students attended. He never had so much as a scrap of any notes before him; and this was his habit also at White River, where he steadily officiated. I need not add that the students always were greatly delighted when they had the privilege to hear him. Every discourse was as complete as though it had been carefully written and committed to memory; but evidently his was nomemoriterpreaching. One sermon I particularly remember, delivered early in March, 1826, from the words, 'If this counsel or this work be of men it will come to nought, but if it be of God ye cannot overthrow it; lest haply ye be found fighting against God.' (Acts v. 38, 39.) No discourse I had ever heard in my whole life before surpassed this in eloquence and weight of sentiment; none even from Dr. Tyler was more magnetic, more persuasive to right action on the part of an already awakened conscience, or put the soul more directly in an attitude in which it would be naturally drawn towards what is true and best. My recollection of the feeling of the students toward him is, that he was, on the whole, not inferior in popularity with them to any other member of the Faculty. There is no man I could name so absolutely faultless, as he seemed to us young men of that period. I am not sure that his prestige and charm were not increased by the faultlessness of his dress, and by the manifestations of the becoming in personal appearance,—a well-known trait of his great kinsman, Daniel Webster, whom he not distantly resembled also in features, port, and step, and in distinct, measured utterance. Not that he in the least consciously imitated him, but there was the natural growth into the likeness of the object of his admiration; and there was, as in Mr. Webster, absolutely no affectation, nor sign of overmuch thought about raiment, nor vestige of anything like conscious, personal display."
A later pupil says:
"As a teacher Professor Haddock was remarkable for his dignity and refinement. His presence among young men wasalways sufficient to maintain perfect order and decorum. The true gentleman beamed forth from every feature and spoke in every tone of his voice. With apparent ease, he chained the attention of the most thoughtless to the most abstruse and uninviting topics. The deep things of Logic and Psychology he handled so adroitly, and presented so tastefully, as to give them a charm, indeed, a fascination.
"In the recitation room his words were few, but his statements were so clear and so elegantly expressed, that what the student had been able to learn only partially or obscurely from the book was now fully comprehended and securely treasured by the memory. The students were never willingly absent, for it was always a delight to listen to his instructions, and a failure to be present was counted an irreparable loss, inasmuch as the teacher always seemed greater than the text-book.
"It is hardly necessary to say that the influence of such a man was an important factor in the last two years of our college life. His noble bearing, his handsome face, his impressive manner, his uniform kindness and courtesy, and, especially, his manifest appreciation of young men who were struggling against heavy obstacles in their course of study, will never be forgotten by those who were so fortunate as to be under his tuition. Nor can it be doubted that the power of his refined intellect and taste has been felt in many places where his name has never been heard."
Professor Haddock married, first, Susan Saunders, daughter of Richard Lang, of Hanover; second, Mrs. Caroline (Kimball) Young, daughter of Richard Kimball, of Lebanon, N. H. He died at West Lebanon, N. H., January 15, 1861.
PROFESSOR WILLIAM CHAMBERLAIN.—PROFESSOR DANIEL OLIVER.—PROFESSOR JAMES FREEMAN DANA.
William Chamberlain, the successor of Professor Moore in the chair of Languages, was the son of General William and Jane (Eastman) Chamberlain, and was born at Peacham, Vt., May 24, 1797. From a reliable source we have the following account of him:
Perhaps there is on record no more worthy and comprehensive testimony to his character and his work than the few lines which the late President Lord furnished for the inscription on his tombstone. They read:
"William Chamberlain, Jr., A. M., Professor of Languages in Dartmouth College. A man of strong intellect, distinguished literary attainments, and moral worth.
"He added respectability to the institution, by prudence, efficiency, and a well-earned reputation; and contributed largely to promote its interests. By disinterested and unwearied labors, with fidelity in all his relations, beloved and honored, he filled up the measure of a short but useful life, and died with humble confidence in the Divine mercy, through the atonement of Jesus Christ, July 11, 1830, aged 33."
He gave to the college for ten years the unremitting labor of his life, and we may say his life itself. To his abundant and complete work as a teacher he added the labor of overseeing the material affairs of the college,—a labor devolved upon him, perhaps, on account of his superior executive ability.
Thus he superintended the building of Thornton and Wentworth Halls, and employed his vacations, and particularlythe long winter vacation, in travelling over what was then the wilderness of northern New Hampshire and Vermont, in care of the wild lands belonging to the college. Stricken with pneumonia on one of these journeys,—he would not wait for a complete convalescence before returning to duty,—his malady assumed the chronic form, and terminated his life in about six months after its first invasion.
The influences of his early life were such as may well have conduced to a broad and strong character.
His mother belonged to a family long identified with the early history of southern New Hampshire.
His father, General William Chamberlain, after serving in the armies of the Revolution, became a pioneer settler of northern Vermont, where he acquired a handsome estate and a prominent public position. He became Lieutenant Governor of the State, and represented it in Congress for several terms. Among his public services may be mentioned his care for the Caledonia County Grammar School, where his sons were fitted for college. This school was at that time taught by Ezra Carter, a man greatly respected for his attainments and dignity of character.
Thus the future professor grew up amid the versatile life of the frontier, surrounded by the contests and traditions of public service.
Distinguished for scholarship in college, a bold but prudent leader among his classmates in their conflicts with the University,[43]immediately after graduation he became the preceptorof Moors Charity School, and a year later entered, as a student of law, the office of Daniel Webster in Boston. Thence, in his twenty-fourth year he was recalled to the college as professor of Languages, and in the ordinary and extraordinary service of the institution he was intensely occupied for the remainder of his short life.
[43]The Rev. Daniel Lancaster, of the Class of 1821, supplies the following recollections of the assault upon the college libraries, made by a band of towns-people, under the guidance of Professors Carter and Dean of the University. They had forced the doors only to find that the books had already been removed, and themselves thus inclosed, the prisoners of the college students, led, among others, by senior Chamberlain. Mr. Lancaster continues: "Having stationed three or four of his classmates at the door of the library to prevent ingress or egress, he ascended a few steps on the flight of steps leading to the next floor, and called the excited throng to order. He then spoke in substance as follows: 'Fellow students, we are in the midst of a desperate emergency. The door of our library has been demolished. The vandals have entered and taken possession, but we have met the enemy. They are our prisoners and the library is safe. I have come from the president, who wishes me to say to you that he is confident you will conduct yourselves as gentlemen—using no violence or insult—in all the arrangements to be adopted, until order and quiet are restored.'"He then proceeded to marshal them in two files, beginning at the door of the library, and extending down stairs to the lower floor, through which files the University professors were conducted, each under escort of three students, to their homes."General H. K. Oliver, of Massachusetts, a member of the then Senior class, gives substantially the same account. He adds:"Having released the roughs on condition of good behavior, we exacted a promise of the learned professors of Mathematics and Dead Languages, 'that they would do so no more.' Classmates Fox, Shirley, and I then escorted Professor Carter home. Dean was escorted by Crosby (Hon. Nathan Crosby) and others. He (Carter) was very polite to us, invited us in, and treated us with wine and cake."
[43]The Rev. Daniel Lancaster, of the Class of 1821, supplies the following recollections of the assault upon the college libraries, made by a band of towns-people, under the guidance of Professors Carter and Dean of the University. They had forced the doors only to find that the books had already been removed, and themselves thus inclosed, the prisoners of the college students, led, among others, by senior Chamberlain. Mr. Lancaster continues: "Having stationed three or four of his classmates at the door of the library to prevent ingress or egress, he ascended a few steps on the flight of steps leading to the next floor, and called the excited throng to order. He then spoke in substance as follows: 'Fellow students, we are in the midst of a desperate emergency. The door of our library has been demolished. The vandals have entered and taken possession, but we have met the enemy. They are our prisoners and the library is safe. I have come from the president, who wishes me to say to you that he is confident you will conduct yourselves as gentlemen—using no violence or insult—in all the arrangements to be adopted, until order and quiet are restored.'
"He then proceeded to marshal them in two files, beginning at the door of the library, and extending down stairs to the lower floor, through which files the University professors were conducted, each under escort of three students, to their homes."
General H. K. Oliver, of Massachusetts, a member of the then Senior class, gives substantially the same account. He adds:
"Having released the roughs on condition of good behavior, we exacted a promise of the learned professors of Mathematics and Dead Languages, 'that they would do so no more.' Classmates Fox, Shirley, and I then escorted Professor Carter home. Dean was escorted by Crosby (Hon. Nathan Crosby) and others. He (Carter) was very polite to us, invited us in, and treated us with wine and cake."
A life so brief and active leaves behind it little but its example. Yet I shall venture to extract a few paragraphs from an address delivered by him on the 4th of July, 1826, the end of the first half century of our national life.
Remembering that they were written at a period before the great problems which have since controlled our history were recognized or appreciated among the people at large, they will be found to indicate a moral tone and a political prescience quite remarkable in a young man of twenty-eight years.
... "I have already alluded to it as the first of the appropriate duties of this day, to turn to Heaven in the exercise of devout gratitude, and render thanksgiving and praise to Him who was the God of our fathers in the day of their trial; who gave to them and has continued to us a fairer portion than was ever allotted to any other people. Is there one in this consecrated temple of the Almighty who would not join in the offering? I know it is unusual to dwell long upon such considerations at a time like this, but surely, if there ever were a call for a nation's gratitude to God, and ever a proper occasion for expressing it, we are the people in whose hearts that emotion should be deep and permanent, and this is a time to give it utterance."...
"We must do all in our power to promote liberal feelingsamong the several communities and sections of our federal republic, so as to preserve inviolate the Union of the States. Were this Union now in danger, it would call forth a more authoritative voice than mine; yet it may be in danger before the close of another half century. I will only speak my own conviction, that the States cannot be separated without the destruction of the country. They lie together on the bosom of this vast continent, a protection and an ornament, each to the other, and all to each, like the gems on the breast-plate of the Jewish Hierarch, indicative of the union of the Tribes, mutually lending and receiving lustre."...
"We must root out from among ourselves the institution of domestic slavery, or, before the close of another half century, we may have to abide the consequences of a servile war. In effecting this all-important object, we must indeed proceed gradually, temperately, in the observance of all good faith and good feeling toward the people of that portion of our Union on which the curse was entailed by the colonial policy of the mother country.
"It is a work which demands the full concurrence of all the States, and, sooner or later, it must be accomplished. Common sense will not cease to upbraid us with inconsistency, humanity will not be satisfied, nor Heaven fully propitiated, while we hold up boastfully in one hand this declaration, affirming that "all men are created equal," and grasp with the other the manacles and the scourge.
"Whatever may have been inferred by reason from a difference of physical attributes, and whatever may have been forced by criticism out of the word of God, the traffic in human flesh iscontrabandby the law of Nature written in our hearts, andforbiddenby the whole tenor and spirit of the religion revealed in the Gospel.
"Even in the darker and imperfect dispensation of the ancient Jews, every fiftieth year, at least, brought freedom toallthe inhabitants of the land. It is almost needless to say, that, if he who first procured the slave and brought him hither had no right to do so, then neither could he who bought him acquire a rightful ownership. There is nopropertyto a private man in the life or the natural faculties ofanother; no right can accrue by purchase, or vest by possession, and no inheritance on either side descend. A title, which by its very nature was void from the beginning, can never be made good; a dominion which Heaven never gave, must be perpetuated, if at all, by means which it will never sanction."...
Surely, the trumpet of this youth gave no "uncertain sound."
"One blast upon that bugle horn.Were worth ten thousand men."
"One blast upon that bugle horn.Were worth ten thousand men."
To the recognition of such qualities it was due, probably, that in 1829 he was called to New York city to assume the editorship of a journal ("Journal of Commerce") founded by an association of gentlemen, and which afterwards exerted great influence upon public opinion. He declined the offer, unwilling to leave his Alma Mater at a critical epoch in her history. He stayed by her to die in her service.
His widow, Mrs. Sarah L. (Gilman) Chamberlain, daughter of Dr. Joseph Gilman, of Wells, Me., and niece of Mrs. President Brown, survived him twenty years, residing at Hanover. The memory of her moral, intellectual, and social worth is warmly cherished by all who knew her.
Mr. Lancaster adds: "Professor Chamberlain was tall, erect, square built, well-proportioned, and of graceful mien and bearing,—such a man as the eye could rest upon with pleasure. His voice was clear, sonorous, yet smooth and agreeable."
Professor Folsom says:
"Professor Chamberlain, the youngest member of the Faculty, who was only twenty-three years old when, in 1820, he entered on his professorship of the Latin and Greek Languages and Literature, and only thirty-three when he died, was much admired and loved and reverenced by many of us. To myself, whenever I think of Dartmouth, his image invariably appears, and he stands out among the objects presenting themselves second only to that of Dr. Tyler, as the latter appeared when at his best and noblest in the pulpit. It was indeed in that same pulpit, and before I came under his instruction, that I first heard him, when he delivered an orationon the Fourth of July in the year 1826. It was to a crowded audience, filling the floor and the galleries. I doubt whether there is one survivor of that number, whether student or townsman, from whose recollection can have faded away the image of the orator, his form and attitude, his voice and action, and some of his thrilling words, especially when he described the nation holding in one hand the Declaration of Independence which proclaims human equality, and with the other grasping the manacles and scourge to torture millions of human beings bought and sold, and compelled to labor in slavery.
Professor Chamberlain took charge of the Class of 1828 in Latin and Greek when they entered on their Junior year. As soon as our class met him in the east recitation-room—he being seated at a small table on his left, and the class in lines of a half-parallelogram extending on the right and in front of him—we felt that we had come under a noble teacher. Some of us who loved the languages that he taught, and also had become acquainted with the best of the upper classes, carried with us none other than very high anticipations of a most profitable and pleasant term of study. And so it proved. How he used to electrify us at times by repeating something that had just been recited, as at the close of the Agricola of Tacitus, his strongly marked face all lighted up, new significance and something like inspiration being given us, when with his deliberate, distinct, emphatic, rhythmical, rich utterance, flowed out that prophetic sentence in the world's literature, 'Quidquid ex Agricola amavimus, quidquid mirati sumus, manet mansurumque in animis hominum, in aeternitate temporum, in fama rerum!'
"I remember that while my class were in the Œdipus Tyrannus of Sophocles and the Medea of Euripides, I was suffering from weak eyes, and went to the recitation-room with no other preparation than that of hearing each lesson twice read to me by two different students, who did me the kindness to perform that service. But with Professor Chamberlain's luminous explanation and comment, no Greek of my whole college course more deeply interested and helped me.
"He heard the rehearsal of my Commencement oration,and some of his words on that occasion I have not ceased to remember with gratitude. Nor was I the only one who received from him words of encouragement that proved of most valuable service in our subsequent career. Still it was themoralelement that constituted his highest power of influencing young men, and was his distinguishing personality. May I say, for one, that in this moral and spiritual personality he has again and again come to me since his departure, and been a present helper toward whatever of good I have attained in life.
"A single anecdote will serve to illustrate thelovewith which his pupils cherish his memory. I cannot but think that every survivor of my class must have some recollection of the fact, and share all my feelings in regard to it. He had been occasionally late at recitation, and the class, to give him a lesson of promptness, one morning having assembled as usual after service in chapel, and waited some four minutes past the hour, carried the vote to go to our rooms; and so, the professor just turning the corner, and hastening up the slope, and his approach being announced by some on the lookout, we dashed out, through the rear doors, or up the stairways, and not a solitary member of the class remained in the room. The next morning he was already there when we reached the place, made no remark on the occurrence of the previous day, and none of us could discern in him the faintest trace of displeasure. When, two years after we graduated, I heard of his death, I remembered a slight, hacking cough which he had, and that slightly bent, spare, though large and tall frame, and always placid face, and realized for the first time that what we imputed to him as a fault was the hindrance of disease, and possibly of sleepless nights; and I would have given a world for an opportunity to ask his forgiveness."[44]
[44]The writer did not know until a few years ago that he was related, though somewhat distantly, to the wife of Professor Chamberlain. He was personally acquainted with her from his Sophomore year. He then boarded and roomed at Mrs. President Brown's (Mrs. C.'s aunt). Her paternal great-grandfather, Rev. Nicholas Gilman, of Durham, N. H., and the writer's paternal great-grandfather (as well as maternal great-great-grandfather), Dr. Josiah Gilman, of Exeter, N. H., were brothers. He has felt, ever since he knew this fact, like having a clearer right of inheritance in Professor Chamberlain.
[44]The writer did not know until a few years ago that he was related, though somewhat distantly, to the wife of Professor Chamberlain. He was personally acquainted with her from his Sophomore year. He then boarded and roomed at Mrs. President Brown's (Mrs. C.'s aunt). Her paternal great-grandfather, Rev. Nicholas Gilman, of Durham, N. H., and the writer's paternal great-grandfather (as well as maternal great-great-grandfather), Dr. Josiah Gilman, of Exeter, N. H., were brothers. He has felt, ever since he knew this fact, like having a clearer right of inheritance in Professor Chamberlain.
Another pupil says of Professor Chamberlain:
"He was well-proportioned, tall, active, and energetic. His expression was dignified and commanding. In his word there was power. Integrity marked all his life. His word was as good as his bond. His principles were firmly grasped and implicitly followed. His intellectual powers were of a high order. He impressed every acquaintance with his intellectual greatness. His discourse was lofty but impressive.
"His religious life was less marked in public. He united with no church, though he was a man of prayer and from his dying bed sent a religious message to the students."
From a reliable source we have the following notice of another of Dartmouth's eminent and honored teachers:
Daniel Oliver, whose name appears on the list of teachers of past years in both the Medical and Academical departments of Dartmouth College, was born on the 9th of September, 1787. He was the third son of the Rev. Thomas Fitch Oliver, at that time rector of St. Michael's, Marblehead, and belonged to a family distinguished in the history of Massachusetts from the earliest period of the colony. He was a direct descendant of Mr. Thomas Oliver, whom Winthrop calls "an experienced and very skilful surgeon," and who acted as one of the ruling elders of the church in Boston soon after his arrival in 1632. Through his mother he was descended from William Pynchon, one of the founders of the Massachusetts Colony, and the Rev. William Hubbard, the historian of New England; and, through his paternal grandmother he was a descendant of the Rev. John Eliot, the noted Indian missionary.
After the death of his father, which took place at Garrison Forest, near Baltimore, before he had attained his tenth year, he was placed in the care of Colonel Lloyd Rogers, of that city, and almost immediately commenced his preparatory course for college, applying himself to his studies with great diligence, and entered. Harvard College in 1802. Although fond of study, and possessed of a mind of unusual vigor and brilliancy, the ambitions of college life do not seem to have dimmed the memories of his forest home in the South, and inhis letters, while at Cambridge, he more than once recalls the pleasant hours when living within its shades, in a strain at once suggestive of a refined and poetic nature.
To one of his thoughtful and contemplative mind it is not strange that, suddenly transferred from the quiet of home life to the turmoil of college scenes, he should have found much that was distasteful; and the following extract from a letter to him from the late Mr. Justice Story, at that time betrothed to his eldest sister, and with whom he was on terms of intimacy, would seem to imply no little disquietude on the part of his student friend during the earlier years of his life at Cambridge.
"You can hardly imagine with what delight I recur to the days which I spent at Cambridge. In the delightful seclusion from noisy vulgarity, in the sweet interchange of kind sentiments, and in the mutual competition of classic pursuits, I possessed a unity and tranquillity of purpose far beyond the merits of my later years. My first years there were not marked with this peculiar character. It was in my Junior and Senior years that, from forming a choice of friends, and participating in the higher views of literature, I felt that happiness resulted in the activity of intellect and possession of friendship. That period will in future be yours; and though you may start with surprise at the thought at this moment, that period will be marked out in the calendar of your years as among thedies fortunatos. You and I are not widely distinct in years, and you can therefore readily believe that this attachment is not the moral relation of comparison and experience; no, it was reality which charmed me when present, and reflects a lustre in remembrance. Go on, then, my dear fellow, in the academic course with awakened hope. A high destiny awaits you. The joys of youth shall give spirit to the exertions of manhood, and the pursuits of literature yield a permanent felicity attainable only by the votaries of taste. Sweet are the attainments which accomplish the wishes of friends. Our reliance upon you is founded on a belief that ambition and literature will unite us in as close bonds as sympathy and affinity.
"On a subject so interesting to me as my collegiate courseI seldom reflect without melancholy; not a harsh and dark brooding, but a soft and tender pensiveness which
"'Sheds o'er the soul a sympathetic gloom.'
"'Sheds o'er the soul a sympathetic gloom.'
"The thousand associations of festivity, pleasantry, study, and recreation live to hallow the whole. The picture, by its distance, loses its defects, and retains only the strong colorings of primitive impression. Never do I cast my eyes on that dear seat of letters but I exclaim involuntarily with Gray:
"'Ah! happy fields, ah! pleasing shade,Ah! groves beloved in vain,Where once my careless childhood strayed,A stranger yet to pain;I feel the gales that round ye blowA momentary bliss bestow.'
"'Ah! happy fields, ah! pleasing shade,Ah! groves beloved in vain,Where once my careless childhood strayed,A stranger yet to pain;I feel the gales that round ye blowA momentary bliss bestow.'
"By the way, when you are at leisure and feel a little dull, I advise you to take up some of our good-natured writers, such as Dr. Moore, Goldsmith, Coleman, Cervantes, Don Quixote, Smollett's novels, or the pleasant and airy productions of the muse. These I have always found a powerful anti-splenetic; and, although I am not a professed physician, I will venture to prescribe to you in this instance with all the confidence of Hippocrates. The whole system of nostrums from that arch-quack, the old serpent, down to the far-famed Stoughton of our own day, does not present so powerful a remedy, amid all itsantis, as cheerful reading to a heavy spirit. I will venture to say, in the spirit of Montesquieu, that an hour of such reading will place one quietly in his elbow chair in all the tranquillity of a Platonic lover."
It is probable that Mr. Story's influence was not without its effect in reconciling his young friend to college life, for he was very soon to be found among the foremost in the race for honorable distinction. He was graduated with distinguished honor, in 1806, in a class of remarkable ability, among whom were the late Hon. Alexander Everett, Judge William P. Preble, Professor J. G. Cogswell, and the venerable Dr. Jacob Bigelow, its last surviving member.
After leaving college he began the study of law under the direction of Mr. Story, but very soon abandoned it, and entered the office of his uncle, the late Dr. B. Lynde Oliver, ofSalem, as a student of medicine. In 1809, he entered the University of Pennsylvania, at that time distinguished by the names of Rush, Wistar, and Physick, and by his talents and attainments soon attracted the notice of Dr. Rush, whose favorite pupil and warm friend he afterwards became. On receiving his medical degree, the following letter, written in terms of the highest compliment, was addressed by Dr. Rush to his uncle and former instructor.
"Philadelphia, May 1, 1810."Dear Sir: I sit down with great pleasure to answer your letter by your nephew, now Dr. Oliver, and to inform you at the same time that he has received the honor of a doctor's degree in our university much to his credit and the satisfaction of his teachers. From his singular talents, and from his acquirements and manners, he cannot fail of becoming eminent in his profession. Long, very long, may he live to reflect honor upon all who are related to him, or who have been instrumental in opening and directing his acute and capacious mind in the prosecution of his studies! Be assured he carries with him my highest respect and sincere affection."With respectful compliments to the venerable patriarch of medicine, Dr. Holyoke (if not translated to a better world),"I am, dear sir, very sincerely yours,"Benjamin Rush."Dr. B. Lynde Oliver."
"Philadelphia, May 1, 1810.
"Dear Sir: I sit down with great pleasure to answer your letter by your nephew, now Dr. Oliver, and to inform you at the same time that he has received the honor of a doctor's degree in our university much to his credit and the satisfaction of his teachers. From his singular talents, and from his acquirements and manners, he cannot fail of becoming eminent in his profession. Long, very long, may he live to reflect honor upon all who are related to him, or who have been instrumental in opening and directing his acute and capacious mind in the prosecution of his studies! Be assured he carries with him my highest respect and sincere affection.
"With respectful compliments to the venerable patriarch of medicine, Dr. Holyoke (if not translated to a better world),
"I am, dear sir, very sincerely yours,
"Benjamin Rush.
"Dr. B. Lynde Oliver."
On his return to Salem, Dr. Oliver commenced the practice of medicine, and in July, 1811, as appears from his diary, he connected himself with Dr. R. D. Mussey, then a rising young surgeon, and with whom he was afterwards so long associated. From the following entry in the diary referred to, under date of July 12, 1812, may be learned somewhat of his tastes at this time, and his mode of passing the waiting hours of an early professional life:
"This day completed the first year of my connection in the medical profession with Dr. R. D. Massey. On reviewing this period, I am sensible of a great loss of time, and of a degree of professional and literary improvement altogether inadequateto such an extent of time. Some improvement, however, has I hope, been made. With respect to the books which I have read during the past year, the most important are Mosheim's 'Ecclesiastical History,' which I have not yet quite completed,—a learned and judicious outline of the history of the church, embracing many collateral topics of learning and philosophy ...; Homer's 'Iliad' in Greek, with the exception of the last book; the 'Æneid' except the last two; two or three books of Livy, and several of Juvenal's 'Satires.'
"The most important literary enterprise which I have undertaken and accomplished has been the delivery of a course of lectures on Chemistry in connection with Dr. Mussey. In Anatomy, also, we have executed something. Medicine will, in future, claim more of my attention, but not to the neglect of the two important collateral branches above mentioned."
In the autumn of 1815, Dr. Oliver was appointed to deliver a course of chemical lectures before the medical class at Dartmouth College. Although he had thus far pursued the study of chemistry as a collateral branch of medical science, he felt warranted in accepting the appointment, without, however, proposing to himself a more permanent position in this department.
In 1817, he was married to Miss Mary Robinson Pulling, the only daughter of Edward Pulling, Esq., an eminent barrister of Salem, and almost immediately went again to Philadelphia to avail himself of the advantages of that seat of medical learning, returning to Salem in the spring of 1818.
In the following year he was induced to undertake, in connection with the Hon. John Pickering, the preparation of a Greek lexicon, a work involving much labor and research, and the larger portion of which fell to his lot. Although mainly based on the Latin of Schrevelius, many of the interpretations were new, and there were added more than two thousand new articles. The magnitude of the task and its successful accomplishment at once raised him to a conspicuous rank among the scholars of his day.
In the summer of 1820 he accepted an appointment to the professorship of the Theory and Practice of Medicine, andof Materia Medica and Therapeutics in Dartmouth College, where he delivered his first course of lectures in the following autumn. He was also made Professor of Botany, and his lectures upon Physiology were among his most valuable contributions to medical literature. He took up his permanent residence in Hanover, in August, 1821, and from this time to the close of his connection with the college he was most faithful to all its interests. In 1825 he was appointed to the chair of Intellectual Philosophy in the Academical department of the college, a position which he filled with the ability that distinguished him elsewhere. The address delivered by him on the occasion of his induction into this professorship, upon the "Comparative Importance of the Study of Mental Science," was thus far, perhaps, his most successful literary effort. Clear, comprehensive, and abounding in passages of remarkable beauty and force, it established the reputation of its author both as a writer and a metaphysician.
In 1835 was published his "First Lines in Physiology," a treatise which received the highest commendation both at home and abroad. It passed through three editions, and although the rapid advance in physiological science since its publication has long since led to its disuse, it will still be admired by medical scholars for the purity of its style and the learning it everywhere displays.
In the spring of 1837, Dr. Oliver closed his connection with the college, and returned to Cambridge, where he was temporarily residing at the time of his appointment, again to resume the practice of his profession. He, however, delivered a course of lectures at the Dartmouth Medical School in the autumn of this and the following year. He was also induced, in 1840, after declining professorships both in St. Mary's College, Baltimore, and in Pennsylvania University, to deliver a course of lectures on Materia Medica at the Medical College of Ohio, but he resigned the chair at the close of the session, and returned again to Cambridge, where he resided to the close of his life. Although in declining health at this time, he did not relinquish professional practice until within a few months of his death, which took place on the 1st of June, 1842.
During his comparatively brief career, Dr. Oliver had become widely known as a medical and general scholar. As a teacher in the various departments of medical science with which he was connected he was also eminently successful. His lectures, always prepared with great care, were written with remarkable clearness and elegance, and were often listened to with attention by many outside the ranks of the profession. "His lectures to the under-graduates of the college," says a contemporary,[45]"would be thought, I am persuaded, still more remarkable than those upon Physiology. They were intended to exhibit the present state of mental philosophy. And the singular clearness with which he discriminated the settled points of absolute knowledge in this comprehensive and yet imperfect science, his happy development of intricate and complicated principles, and the beautiful colors which a true poetic spirit enabled him now and then to throw over the bald peaks and angles of this cold region, entitle him to a rank among metaphysicians as eminent as he maintained in his appropriate profession."