Thomas Hill: Twentieth President of Harvard [Reprint 2014 ed.] 9780674493377, 9780674187054


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Table of contents :
Foreword
Contents
List of Illustrations
Chapter I. EARLY YEARS
Chapter II. LEOMINSTER AND LEICESTER
Chapter III. HARVARD COLLEGE
Chapter IV. WALTHAM
Chapter V. PRESIDENT OF ANTIOCH
Chapter VI. PRESIDENT OF HARVARD
Chapter VII. RENEWED ENERGY
Chapter VIII. CONTRIBUTIONS
Chapter IX. PORTLAND
INDEX
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THOMAS TWENTIETH

HILL

P R E S I D E N T OF

HARVARD

LONDON : HUMPHREY MILFORD OXFORD UNIVERSITY P R E S S

ν: THOMAS HILL I N 1870 "His reddish hair . , . almost gray"

THOMAS HILL TWENTIETH PRESIDENT OF HARVARD BY

WILLIAM G. LAND

CAMBRIDGE : MASSACHUSETTS

HARVARD UNIVERSITY

1933

PRESS

COPYRIGHT, 1 9 3 3 B Y EDWARD BURLINGAME HILL

PRINTED AT T H E HARVARD U N I V E R S I T Y P R E S S CAMBRIDGE, M A S S . , U . S . A .

Foreword HIS narrative of the life and intellectual con-

tributions of Harvard's twentieth president is designed to be merely an introduction of Dr. Hill to the world he left forty-two years ago. In preparation several hundred letters have been gathered together, representing almost every month of his life except for that period when the family were in Cambridge. A bibliography of his writings already lists more than two hundred published articles, without attempting to enumerate his poems or his communications to the newspapers. Thus the selections here chosen are only a very few of very many which might illustrate his interests and beliefs. Particularly in the earlier letters, which were written at intervals and sent off perhaps once a month, material has been selected from several parts of the same letter without here noting the technical details of selection. Likewise other excerpts and omissions have been indicated only when necessary to preserve the sense of historical accuracy. For the scholar's reference, however, an annotated copy of this volume has been placed in the Harvard College Library. Editorial interpolation is indicated by the use of brackets. Thus rid

VI

FOREWORD

of footnotes, I hope that there will be no further scholastic impediment to pleasure. Dr. Hill's two surviving daughters, Mrs. Alfred Worcester and Mrs. Robert H. Monks, have furnished a large number of the letters which form the basis of the narrative, and their helpfulness, patience, and confidence have made the writing of the entire narrative a delightful undertaking. Among other members of the family, Mr. Otis S. Hill has contributed his father's mathematical papers, Miss Sarah C. Hill has supplied manyletters of the Hassler voyage, and Professor Edward B. Hill and Mr. Thomas Dana Hill have aided in completing the correspondence. I am also very much indebted to Mrs. Thorndike Endicott for letters in the collection of Rev. Henry W. Bellows; to Mrs. Ella Lyman Cabot for those of Mrs. Arthur T. Lyman; to Mr. J . Henry Blake for pictures taken on the Hassler; and to the Massachusetts Historical Society and the Archives Division of the Harvard College Library for material relating to Dr. Hill's Harvard administration. The friends who have aided with information and criticism are many. In thanking all, I wish especially to thank Dr. Alfred Worcester, who in every way has been a guide of inestimable value. W. G. L. CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS

May

!» 1933

Contents I.

EARLY YEARS

3

II.

LEOMINSTER AND LEICESTER

20

III.

HARVARD COLLEGE

39

IV.

WALTHAM

68

V.

PRESIDENT OF ANTIOCH

92

VI.

PRESIDENT OF HARVARD

I23

VII. RENEWED ENERGY

173

VIII. CONTRIBUTIONS

194

IX.

227

PORTLAND

INDEX

251

List of Illustrations THOMAS

HILL

IN

1870

Frontispiece

THOMAS

HILL

IN

1845

64

AT

WALTHAM, 1859

THOMAS THE

HILL

8A

AT ANTIOCH, 1861

PRESIDENT'S

HOUSE

116 164

COURTESY OF THE HARVARD COLLEGE LIBRARY ABOARD

T H E HASSKR,

1872

188

COURTESY OF MR. J. HENRY BLAKE THE

HIERARCHY

OR S C I E N C E S

201

FROM THE TRUE ORDER OF STUDIES, 1876 ED. THE

STUDIES IN L I B E R A L

EDUCATION

207

FROM THE TRUE ORDER OF STUDIES, 1859 ED. THOMAS

HILL

IN

1875

240

THOMAS TWENTIETH

PRESIDENT

HILL OF

HARVARD

Chapter I E A R L Y YEARS ÌOUT the life of Thomas Hill there has grown the legend of a man almost omniscient. He was both a scientist and a theologian, both a philosopher and a practical educator. In his own time the very height of his mental stature clouded its full recognition, for as the generation which came after him said, " H e was admired by the scientists for his theology, and by the theologians for his science." There were a good many exceptions to this current belief, yet it is the key to a life which was founded on a unity of science and religion. What that generation did not remember was the result of this unity, — that for twenty years the Rev. Thomas Hill had bèen a leader in improving education, and for twenty more a quiet but persistent advocate of reform. Similarly, in the two cities where he spent thirty years as minister, his name holds an aura of affection. Y e t in Cambridge, where he lived first as a student and later, for six years, as President of Harvard, his name is nowhere inscribed. The years of his presidency, 1862-1868, were difficult ones, for the forces of progress and tradition were begin-

4

THOMAS

HILL

ning to meet in clear conflict. They were years on the brink of inevitable change, and it was fortunate for Harvard's progress that this man whose election compromised the opposing elements was in his whole personality representative of one of them. From both parents Hill inherited this character of striving forward. His father, of a well educated family of rural Warwickshire, had left home to seek freedom of conscience in America. This Thomas Hill, then twenty years old, was the son of Samuel and Ann (Roby) Hill of Hall End, a village near Tamworth. Sailing from Liverpool on the ship Grange, he arrived at Philadelphia on May 21, 1791, and with a fellow emigrant set up in business there as a tanner. His partner turned out to be worthless, so a year later Hill moved to New Brunswick, New Jersey. He first married, on November 1 1 , 1 7 9 2 , a girl several years older than he, Ann Capnerhurst of Flemington. She died in September, 1793, shortly after the birth of a son, and four years later, on June 25, 1797, he married Henrietta Barker of New Brunswick. She was then twenty-three, the daughter of Samuel and Elizabeth (Toulmin) Barker of Linton, Cambridgeshire, where she was born September 20, 1774, and the grandniece of the eminent Dr. Joshua Toulmin who received the honorary degree of S.T.D. from Harvard. Following the Birmingham riots of 1791 her family had taken refuge across

EARLY YEARS

ζ

the Channel at Dunkirk, and in 1794 had come to America. From this marriage there were nine children, and the youngest of these, born J a n u a r y 7, 1 8 1 8 , was Thomas Hill. His mother died in J u n e , 1824, and his father in April, 1828. E v e n then they had taught well the love and charity of the Christian religion and also an appreciation of nature. Seventy years later Hill wrote of his boyhood : The house in which I was born was built by my father about the year 1813. It is still standing on the southwest corner of New Street and the Trenton Turnpike. A little brook used to run easterly a few rods from the house. A nice garden full of flowers, vegetables, and fruit trees sloped from the house down toward the brook. On the level ground near the brook were stables, barns, wagon sheds, stacks of bark, barracks of hay, and the tanyard. My mother's father and mother lived with us. They were Unitarian Christians, but went to the Presbyterian church. The rest of the family, excepting my father, went to the Episcopalian, preferring much the American preaching there to the Calvinistic thunders of the Presbyterians. In his youth the elder Hill had been a deist, but through the influence of his wife he had turned to Unitarianism and often defended his change of belief on Sunday afternoons with deistical friends. Besides subscribing to the library association of the town he had many books of his own, most of them

6

THOMAS HILL

religious and scientific works. T h u s he instructed his children in the rudiments of botany, always calling plants by their botanical names and encouraging the youngsters to do likewise. Following a visit of Professor P a r k e r Cleveland of Bowdoin College, he retold to them what he himself had learned of mineralogy. H e was a m a n " o f great stature and muscular strength, of sound sense and incorruptible integrity," and in spite of his religion and his politics the community recognized his qualities of leadership. Of him his son wrote in later years: My father had but two faults, so far as I could ever learn. He was a little quick tempered, and would sometimes speak sharply under the impulse of the moment. Then he had a foolish habit of emphasizing what he said by frequently saying in his Warwickshire dialect, "Dommit!" The clergymen of those days were almost invariably Federalists, and there were four reasons why my father was considered by the ministers a very bad man. First, he did not go to church; secondly, he was a Democrat; thirdly, he had the profane habit of saying "dommit"; and fourthly, he had been a Deist, and was now a Unitarian, which was if possible worse than being a Deist. Long before I was born he had been appointed to office, and the next Sunday my grandfather and grandmother heard the appointment announced by Rev. Dr. Clarke in the Presbyterian Church. All the congregation stared to hear a political appointment announced in church, but Dr. Clarke went solemnly on to give out and read a psalm. The whole was nearly in these words.

EARLY YEARS

7

" I would inform this congregation that Thomas Hill has been appointed a Judge of the Inferior Court of Common Pleas and a Justice of the Peace, in and for the County of Middlesex. Let us sing the sixty-ninth Psalm, third part, common metre; 'Lord what a thoughtless wretch was I, to mourn and murmur and repine, to see the wicked placed on high, in pride and robes of honor shine. But oh ! their end, their dreadful end ! Thy sanctuary taught me so. On slippery rocks I see them stand, and fiery billows roll below.'" His mother was an active, sensible woman, and a staunch believer in a practical kind of Christianity. She was of medium height, with " c h e s t n u t brown hair, high forehead, oval face, blue eyes, and round nose and chin," as her passport from France described her. Through her influence, as much as through t h a t of her husband, their children looked to the New Testament as the guide to life. I t was a household custom to commit passages to memory, to join reverently and with full heart in the family religious service, and to bring the whole temper of their daily life into conformity with the Sermon on the M o u n t . T h e great difference between this type of Christianity and the orthodoxy of their neighbors was very early forced upon young Hill's attention. Across the street lived a retired colonel and his wife, who according to the custom of the time kept a young slave girl as a servant. T h e y were very religious in an outward way and were constantly

8

THOMAS HILL

anxious about the Unitarianism of the Hills, "fearing that we should all fall into the fiery billows of eternal brimstone because we could not find the doctrine of the Trinity in our New Testaments." But their religion did not seem to us any more Christian than their theology. They seemed to us mean and dishonorable in small things, and their treatment of their little slave girl was diabolically cruel. Maria's mother was the slave of a man who lived about one mile from us on the turnpike toward Trenton. She was a high spirited child and when the Colonel's family abused her she would run away to see her mother. One day the Colonel's son, a student from Princeton, at home at the time, was sent to bring her back. He stripped her naked down to the waist, tied her hands behind her back, and then drove her with a cowhide whip the whole way home. My mother was in an upper chamber in our house and heard an awful screaming and noise in the Colonel's yard. She looked out and saw an incredible sight which made her hurry down stairs and tell my father. In the good Providence of God an honest carter named Williamson came to the house, and my father snapped at the chance. He bade Williamson go a roundabout way to the Colonel's house and buy the girl, as cheap as he could, but to buy her; being however very careful not to let the Colonel know who sent him. Williamson executed the commission very nicely, and in less than an hour Maria was at our house, and the money in the Colonel's pocket. Presently my mother took me and my brother out to show us something which should make us hate slavery

EARLY

YEARS

9

as long as we lived. There stood Maria burying her face in a roller towel, which she clutched convulsively with both hands. M y mother had taken a pair of scissors and split her clothes right down her back from her neck to her heels, and there was not a place up and down big enough to put the end of your finger on without touching either the scar of the whip, or a fresh wound, or both. I verily believe it was the horror of those two days that hastened my mother's death. Hill's mother and sisters had t a u g h t the b o y to read and to c y p h e r , so b y the time he was six he had read all the simpler lessons of Evenings At Home. Similarly, at a still earlier time, t h e y had t a u g h t him b y their example to love and c u l t i v a t e wild flowers, for each one of the f a m i l y , and even the negro b o y , J a c k , had a little garden plot. In this w a y y o u n g T o m became interested in his father's botanical books, and grew " e x c e e d i n g l y f o n d " of E r a s m u s D a r w i n ' s Zoonomia and the notes to his Botanic Garden. Y e t in the summer of 1824, when he himself first became conscious of the sense of b e a u t y , he began to d o u b t D a r w i n ' s explanation. I remember distinctly . . . on the morning after a great June thunder shower my first vivid sense of landscape beauty. I looked westerly up a gentle sloping field which made the horizon only half a mile distant. The grass was of the liveliest green, while the road winding over it was of the peculiar deep red of the new red sandstone, or shale. In the foreground on the edge of my father's garden was a row of thorny locusts, with their

IO

THOMAS HILL

delicate foliage thoroughly washed by yesterday's rains. It was, I suppose, the great contrast of these clean greens, first with the dust of the walk the day before, and secondly with the red road, combined with the great contrast of the soft sunny morning with the "dreadful pother o'er head" the preceding evening, which made that morning glance westward awaken in me what I recognized as a new feeling; the sense of landscape beauty which I had heard about, but never felt until that moment. But as soon as I felt this divine glow of the sense of beauty I began to doubt whether Darwin's attempt to explain it altogether by the association of ideas with the pleasures of eating in babyhood would hold. I was loath to give up my faith in Darwin, but my logic was too strong, and I concluded decidedly that on that point my oracle was wrong, and that the sense of beauty lay deeper in the soul than the pleasures of mere sense. Until he was past eight years old, young Hill never attended school. There was then no public school system in N e w J e r s e y , the custom being for the county to p a y the schoolmaster part of the tuition and the scholar p a y the rest. In the autumn of 1826 a M r . Hobart came from Connecticut and advertised to open a school, so Hill's father determined to send him at once. I went with some trepidation and found half a dozen boys there. I remember asking each boy if he had ever been to school before. When I found that they had all been, and most of them been for years, I felt that I should have to work hard to catch up with them. I did study with might and main, and that, with the excellent

EARLY

YEARS

II

teaching I had had at home, very soon put me at the head of the school in every single study, a position which I held as long as I went to that school, over two years. After the death of his father in 1828 young Tom was put under the guardianship of his brother John. The family fortune was none too great, and in January, 1830, after another year at a cheaper school, they found a place for the youngster as a printer's apprentice. This was a decided setback. He had done excellently at Daboll's Arithmetic and Bonnycastle's Surveying, but places for a boy of twelve were hard to find, so at the first opportunity Tom was thrust into the newspaper office of the Fredonian. I remained in that office three years and four months, and my recollections are very vivid, some of them pleasant and some exceedingly painful. The fact is that after my father's death and before I went to the printing office my brother moved out of the city, and I was left without much companionship except what I picked up in the streets after dark, which was by no means improving. I was dreamy and imaginative and lazy, and these faults were aggravated by dyspepsia from which I suffered greatly. My business was to stand all day picking up type, yet I was fed with food that would require a great deal of outdoor exercise for its digestion; corned beef and boiled cabbage two or three times a week to begin with, and bread made of the poorest flour. The wheat had sprouted before drying, and the bread was sticky, solid, heavy, and strange for heavy bread,

12

THOMAS HILL

sour also. This curious fact arose from the mode of baking. I saw it made repeatedly and heard the kitchen girl's explanation of her reason for doing as she did. When the bread was put in the pans for its final rising she allowed it to stand until it was exceedingly light and exceedingly sour. Then before putting it in the oven she cut it down with a dinner knife, "to let the wind out." Mr. and Mrs. Randolph never tasted it, nor ate much else that they gave to their children and to the apprentices. They said they had to have a different diet, with bread from a baker's, because they had dyspepsia. They did not seem to know that they were making Stephen, Emily, Almira, and Lewis dyspeptic, as well as Abraham Dunn, John Dunham, and me. While at the Fredonian sister Henrietta:

office Tom wrote his

I am so lazy I can hardly write, tho I feel as if I ought to do it, for you always mention me in your letters. I wish you all lived here again. I long to see you. I am fairly homesick, though I like my trade as well as ever. In one corner of the yard I have enclosed a small piece of ground, and planted in it several roots of liverwort and aenemone and also a wild flower which Nancy says she never saw here before though it grows in abundance near Flemington. On the outside of the bed I have three box trees. While this letter was making the rounds of the family his sister Ann, at Flemington, added to it. " T o m comes every Sunday morning for me to wash him before he goes to Sunday School, and after school he goes to church. In the afternoon if

EARLY YEARS

I3

there is no preaching in the Baptist sometimes he goes to some other church, and sometimes takes a walk with John. He gets a book every Sunday from the Sunday School library. This week he has the Life of Washington. He has part of every Saturday afternoon to himself." Nevertheless, his garden, Sunday reading and walks, and visits to his sister's did not outweigh the corned beef and cabbage and the resulting illhealth which made the Fredonian a veritable Dotheboys' Hall. Fifty years later Hill related his experiences to a friend who set them down. " H e at length became desperate, and with the lure of adventure in his head, concluded to go live with the Cherokees, who were at that time attracting attention over their treatment by the State of Georgia. So with a drizzling rain and a gloomy foreboding sky he set out to walk the distance, only a thousand miles or more. But thirty-six hours of this proved the project not so agreeable as it had appeared in anticipation, so he decided to go to his brother's house, not far along his route, and deliver himself up to justice. So his brother took him back to the master, but the flight brought about mutual explanations, and the latter said he would rather not take him back because he was not worth his keeping, being indolent and not addicted to work, a fault which was perfectly true, but which was the direct result of his bad food and treatment."

14

THOMAS

HILL

A t this t i m e his e l d e s t b r o t h e r , W i l l i a m , w a s master of L o w e r D u b l i n A c a d e m y , near Holmesb u r g , P e n n s y l v a n i a , so in M a y , 1833, y o u n g T o m was sent there to s t u d y g e o m e t r y and trigonometry, reading, and grammar.

M e a n w h i l e , in t h e

c o u r s e o f t h e y e a r , t h e f a m i l y w e r e a c t i v e in ing

a n o t h e r p l a c e f o r h i m , as his b r o t h e r

findJohn

wrote during that time: In placing you with brother William, dear T o m , I was actuated b y a desire to give you an opportunity of acquiring knowledge equal to that which William and I had enjoyed, and under the impression that you were of such a disposition as to profit b y the opportunity at least as much as either of us had done; — H e a v e n grant that you m a y turn your acquirements to better account. Y o u must be aware, dear brother, that your funds are not sufficient to permit your remaining long in your present situation, but that you must again undertake some business whereby you m a y support yourself in youth, and in manhood lay b y a store for the winter of life, taking the bee or the ant for a pattern rather than the butterfly. I have talked with several friends on the subject of a suitable business for you. In the absence of a decided predilection b y yourself we have to judge as well as we can by observation of the fitness of your talent and genius for any business worthy of pursuit which m a y be open to us. M a r y mentioned law; but the length of time before you would derive a revenue in that w a y and the consequent expense seem to be insuperable objections. W e have talked of many plans, such as putting you into a printing office like William F r y ' s of Harpers; or in a

EARLY

YEARS

I5

lawyers office at a small salary in New York, such as we sometimes see advertised; or a broker, or a druggist. I hope you will let me know if you have a strong preference for, or aversion to, any of them. In reply it was natural that Tom should have shown his preference for surveying, for his interest and success in mathematics ably fitted him for it. But one man "feared his indolence and his experiments," and others delayed. One of the partners of the Fredonian thought to set up for himself, and inquired if Tom would come with him, but even the printer's venture came to naught. So the spring and summer flew by, and no place offered itself. Finally, learning of a place in an apothecary's shop, his brothers wished to place him there, but as his companion of later years wrote of the difficulties: "Even this could not be obtained unless he would make the strongest promise that he would not study chemistry. He made the promise, and kept it, and became an apothecary's boy. He was at this time about fifteen or sixteen. Being debarred from chemistry, which under the circumstances would have been the most natural study for him to have undertaken, he took hold of botany, but felt obliged to conceal this fact from his master. In order to do this, and for the study itself, he used to get up very early in the mornings and go off to the fields for flowers, but get home in season to

ι6

THOMAS HILL

open the shop, sweep, and dust out, as early as the neighboring boys, and without his master's knowing anything about it. He concealed the flowers in a pitcher under the counter, and at noon when his master was dining, he took out his flowers, and examined and studied them. "Several years passed in this way, until he was about nineteen or twenty, when his time had about expired, and the question which had been in solution so long demanded an answer in some decisive way, as to what he should make his profession or occupation for life. He consulted with his brothers, but his preference was the ministry and he seemed determined to follow it. But his family all opposed it strongly. O f all useless and undesirable positions in life, that of a dull minister was the poorest.' They seemed to think that in his case the dullness was a foregone conclusion. He did not however change his intention, and his brothers, finding him firm, told him that if he must follow his desire he had better commence studying theology immediately." Hill's interest in theology was rooted into his early life. His father's influence had been strong. Likewise his father's books and those from the circulating library to which the elder Hill belonged led to a taste for serious reading. He had been attracted first by Franklin's Autobiography, and by the anecdotes of Erasmus Darwin. Then Playfair's

EARLY YEARS

I7

Euclid, studied in school, led him to work out by himself a philosophy of reasoning. So when his secret botanical expeditions were impossible, Hill turned his attention to the philosophical and theological works of Joseph Priestley, whom his father had once visited, and to those of John Locke, and finally to the sermons of the then famous Orville Dewey. By the summer of 1836 Hill had already turned his thoughts towards Boston and New England, the seat of Unitarianism. In this he received the support of his sister Henrietta, who wrote: I sympathize with you in your admiration of Boston. From all that I can learn, the state of society there is better than in most places. N e w England is called the land of steady habits, and if the saying is truth, it speaks something for Unitarianism, which prevails there. I am glad you take so much interest in religious subjects. I t will induce you to happiness, provided you keep clean of sectarianism, which narrows the mind and often the heart too.

No better advice was ever given — or followed; for Thomas Hill, keeping his own beliefs, became beloved for tolerance. Bent on entering the Divinity School at Harvard, he wrote for advice to Orville Dewey, then minister of the Second Unitarian Church in New York. Such preaching as his had never before been heard in that city, and his fame made him the

ι8

THOMAS

HILL

oracle to whom the young and zealous Unitarian student turned. In answer to Hill's inquiries he sent two letters of encouragement: The very impulse under which you write is so far a pledge for the wisdom of the course you are inclined to pursue. Let me say too, that your letter otherwise impresses me favorably. Still I feel that I cannot absolutely advise without knowing you. All I can say in the circumstance is, — consult your powers, — consult your truest friends on the same points, and form a judgment as impartial as you are able. I believe that with prudence $1200 would carry you through four years study. One year's study of the dead languages I think would prepare you to enter the three years' course in the Department of Divinity at Cambridge. In this case I suppose you're to give up the College Course, which at your period of life and with your means I should think best. . . . I am sorry I cannot answer you more definitely with regard to studies. I have a poor head for statistics. I do not exactly know what will be required of you to enter the Divinity Department at Cambridge. But on this point several others in your letter depend. I advise you therefore to write to Dr. Palfrey of Cambridge, who is accustomed to be addressed on such subjects. Say to him that I advised you to write. Ask him about expenses. Tell him the state of your knowledge, and he will be able to advise you as to the term of study necessary before entering. I should think there would be a good school for you in or near Cambridge, but the plan is not natural, and might depend on facilities and preferences. As to after employment, there is not the least

EARLY YEARS

Ig

fear for a man of sense and earnestness. Drones and dull men thrive no more with us than elsewhere, but I am persuaded better things of you. Before proceeding to study at the Divinity School young Hill had to learn Greek, Latin, and Hebrew. So it was arranged through Dr. Palfrey that he should go to board with a recent graduate who was minister at Leominster, Massachusetts. Thus he set about his preparation, looking forward to the formal teaching from books, and to the informalities of religious discussion. It was on the second day of M a y , 1838, that Thomas Hill set out to a new country, — a tall, large boned, blue-eyed, reddish-haired fellow of twenty, vitally interested in religion, and both in actions and in mind beyond his years. Not only could he hold his own in theological argument, but he was something of a scholar in mathematics, was well acquainted with the elements of physics and chemistry, and, with a lively interest in nature, was more than a passable botanist and zoologist. And the rolling hills of Leominster were to serve these last, as at the same time the R e v . Rufus P. Stebbins was to aid the study of religion and the classics.

Chapter II LEOMINSTER AND LEICESTER RAVEL in the 'thirties was by boat and stage, and at times by the " cars." The railroad from Boston extended as far as Stonington, with a break in the line at Providence to ferry across the river. Hill spent a day in New York, and after the Lexington had felt its way up the Sound through a night of fog and rain he had his first glimpse of New England. As he wrote to his brothers and sisters, " P e r m i t me to tell the history of my journey ' o u t of the f a c e ' " : As soon as I started from Stonington I saw why the town had been thus named. The ground was covered with stone from the size of your hand to a cubic yard. We travelled fifteen or twenty miles before I saw any but stone fences. The country all the way from Stonington to Boston is worse than West Jersey; sphagnous swamps and rocky hills all the way. At Providence we crossed in a ferry boat to the other road. In the Stonington car there was a stove and some coal, and as one man had a locofoco and another some old paper we soon had a first rate fire. On arriving at Boston I had myself and chest immediately carted to the Leominster (pronounced lem'minster) stage office where I am now writing.

LEOMINSTER AND LEICESTER

21

A t twelve and a half P. M . I went to Cambridge, and going to Divinity Hall knocked at room No. 3 labelled Hobson. A f t e r talking some to Cousin Sam, he showed me R e v . Dr. Palfrey's house. I went there and was shown into the library. Dr. Palfrey sent a newspaper for me to amuse myself until he came in. H e is much younger than I had thought the Dean of the F a c u l t y would be. H e was v e r y kind and gave me a letter of introduction to M r . Stebbins. H e says that the conditions are merely these: If M r . Stebbins finds he cannot spare the time from his parish engagements to teach me, or if he finds me so dumb as to make it irksome to teach me, he will not scruple to tell me so. T h e D r . said he regretted he had no leisure to spend with me, but gave me a letter to Dr. Harris, the Librarian. H e said that I would not have time to read in the library but that it would be pleasant for me to look around the place where I was soon to spend so much of my time. I returned from Cambridge at four o'clock and engaged a place in the Leominster stage to start at four in the morning. I went to bed at nine o'clock and told them to be sure to wake me in time for the stage. Accordingly they waked me at three o'clock and I came down into the office where I waited until five but the stage did not come. T h e driver had forgotten me, or the clerk had forgotten to tell the driver. T h e y were v e r y sorry for their neglect and offered to take me in a chaise immediately. B u t I told them I would not punish them so much for their neglect as to put them to that trouble, but would stay till tomorrow at four o'clock.

So after a day of wandering to see the sights of Boston, at times "into crooked streets which came to a full stop like a blind lane," Hill took the stage

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to Leominster, situateci among the hills just south of Fitchburg, which was to be his home for the next year. For him it was an ideal place. There were plenty of rocks to climb, fences to leap, and fields and swamps in which to make botanical explorations. It was no less this outdoor life which made Hill's studies successful than the avidity with which he attacked them. Mr. Stebbins set him at once to Latin, and later put him on the road to Greek. By November he was reading daily two pages of Sallust, and one in the Greek reader. At Thanksgiving he finished Sallust and began Cicero. So, instead of the twenty-seven months of preparation which Mr. Stebbins had foreseen, he predicted at the end of seven months that Hill would be ready to go to Cambridge in eight months more; and he was not far wrong. Yet all the time was not devoted to the classics or to Plutarch or to Rollin's Ancient History. During his study hours, which usually amounted to six or seven a day, young Hill would frequently run out for a few minutes to wheel stones, hoe cucumbers, stick peas, or merely "jump over a string." As there was no room at Mr. Stebbins', he boarded with an old militia veteran, "General" Gibbs, and upon one occasion wrote of his daily schedule: Gen. Gibbs has been sick some time and has not fully recovered yet. I get up sometimes at five and sometimes

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not until six and build the fires for him. If I am up in time I study my Greek lesson until six thirty, and then take a walk or saw and split wood. We breakfast at seven thirty, and I resume my Greek and finish it, and then read over my Latin which I had studied the previous evening. If there is any time before I go to recite I spend it in exercise. At eleven and a quarter I go to Mr. Stebbins' room, walk in, reach down his books for him, draw a chair to the fire and sit down. We then talk about the weather, the news, &c., a few minutes. When he makes a long pause I begin to read my Greek, translating it as I go, and he correcting my pronunciation, for I almost always pronounce the Greek g soft instead of hard. He then makes me parse some of the more difficult passages, and gives me my lesson for the next time. Then I take up Sallust and go through the same process with that, asking him to explain the passages where I am doubtful as to the true meaning. He then frequently lends me a paper or tract. I say good day and he says good morning and I depart, fifteen or twenty minutes past twelve. We have dinner as soon as I come and after dinner I read about an hour and a half, and then take rambles, work on the wood pile, mason up the fireplaces, build a high desk so that I can stand up to study, put latches on Mrs. Gibbs' doors, make electrical machines, make chamois to prance over the clock with a bent wire and weight, play the flute, or do anything I wish till quarter to five when we generally sit down to supper. After the table is cleared and the children put to bed I fall foul of Sallust and read two pages. If Mrs. Gibbs has no company I study in her sitting room so as to use but one fire and that each may have the benefit of the other's lamp.

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This generally takes till about eight. I then read about an hour before I prepare for bed, sometimes reading aloud. I am generally in bed and asleep before ten. And thus from mentioning Gen. Gibbs' illness I have been led to give you an outline of my daily life. Even then Hill did not mention his garden of wild flowers brought back from his rambles, his "cyphering in algebra a little," his part in the debates at the Young Men's Institute, his sitting and talking on religion and politics with those who could not walk with him, or the meetings of the Sabbath School teachers at which M r . Stebbins presided and explained the Scriptures. T h e great topic of conversation was religion. N o t only was it a subject in which Hill's own interest had been rooted since boyhood, b u t it was a common topic for everyone. I t was the age of Transcendentalism and of the Unitarianism of William Ellery Channing and of Wendell Phillips. Orthodox Congregationalists and their Unitarian offspring were at theological swords' points, and the Baptists also were gaining strength through this religious revival and were becoming a strong third p a r t y in N e w England. Of this Hill wrote home not long after coming to Leominster: Yesterday Squire Walker, an old man of three score and ten, came over and said that he wanted somebody to ride with him to Fitchburg. The General could not go, so the Squire asked whether his man Hill could not go.

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" I guess so," said the General. "Well," said the Squire, "he's the man I wanted." So I jumped into Squire Walker's gig and at one o'clock we started for Fitchburg. The afternoon was fine, the orchards in full bloom, and the nag a good traveller. After a ride of five or six miles through a country of hills and valleys, large factories and neat cottages, we arrived in Fitchburg. We stayed only a short time, and as we were coming home, the Squire called a man to him to ask him about some business. " T h i s is Mr. Hill," said the Squire. " M r . Hill how do you do," said the man. " B u t I forget your name," said the Squire. "Crocker, Crocker, Crocker, my name's Crocker." " T h i s is Mr. Crocker, Mr. Hill. Mr. Hill comes from New Jersey, Mr. Crocker." "Well what's the news?" "Ο I have not been there in a month, I have nothing new," said I. " Y e s , but how is religion, that's the great thing, what's the news about religion there?" " W h y , " said I, " i t appeared to be very flourishing." And off Mr. Crocker started into an exhortation to me not to let my tongue be still, but to be always ready to speak a word. As soon as he paused to take breath Squire Walker said, " Mr. Hill has come among us to get ready for the ministry." "Where, where, where?" said Crocker. " I am here with Mr. Stebbins," said I. " O my dear friend, I hope you will see your way clearer than he does." " W h y , is he not in the straight p a t h ? " " Ο I don't want to say anything against him, but he doesn't see his way clear I think. I do think the dear Son of God was equal to his Father. I hope you will see your way clearer than he does. I hope you will be led into the truth," and off the Squire drove. Crocker is a wild sort of Baptist, and Squire Walker told me he attacked almost every one in the same way. When we came to Gen. Gibbs', he told him that he

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had got acquainted with his Mr. Hill. "Well," said the General, "what kind of a man is he? Does he open better than he looks?" "Yes," said the Squire, "I'll board him if you won't." I believe the Squire is in his second childhood. Tom Hill was hardly as energetic as Mr. Crocker, but he was full of eager enthusiasm, and entered into conversation with almost everyone he met, sometimes bearing the principal part in discussion with his friends after a Sunday sermon, "urging arguments for the Unitarian faith upon Tyler, for the Christian faith upon Nelson, and against the Arians upon General Gibbs." For one thing, young Mr. Stebbins, " a nice kind man, his person somewhat portly, his voice low toned, his doctrine sound, and his manner earnest," quite took the heart of the young student. "Your love for Mr. Stebbins," he wrote home that summer, "if so great from the few things I have said of him, would be unbounded if you knew the man himself." So Hill became his disciple. He read the Examiner and the Register, as well as the papers which the liberal-minded Mr. Stebbins exchanged with the Calvinist minister. Nevertheless, in spite of this amount of discussion and reading Hill felt that he did not think seriously or think enough upon religious subjects. On the other hand he admitted that he hesitated to write his thoughts in letters lest his brothers and sisters think him hypocritical.

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T]

Still his letters of this period were filled w i t h religious discussions, digests of sermons and conversations w i t h M r . Stebbins, comments on articles in the Christian Register and on tracts which he borrowed, and numerous quotations from N o y e s ' translation of Job. One passage from his letters is t y p i c a l of m a n y others: Tonight Mr. Stebbins finished his lectures on the Trinity and in explaining some of the texts used by the Orthodox he showed himself to be a high Arian and in his sermon this afternoon he spoke of the state of the wicked after death as being utterly hopeless. But I do not think his mistakes in doctrine will ever be a reason to me for not liking him. I was struck with the manner in which Mr. Stebbins quoted some texts. Thus in Acts 2:22 he emphasized "did by h i m " but not " a man approved." I did not see the reason for this until he began to explain John ι : ι which according to him means: In the beginning of the Creation the first man was Jesus Christ and he was with God the Father and he was God in an inferior sense himself. I asked General Gibbs whether, if Jesus were a préexistent being, it made any difference whether he had real flesh or not. He said it made no différence. " W h y then," said I, "does the Apostle John say it is antichrist to deny that Jesus is come in the flesh? Upon your doctrine of préexistence what difference does it make whether you think he had the reality or the appearance of flesh?" But I conceive by the phrase " i s not come in the flesh" is meant: God has not anointed a man to the office of Saviour. B y "is come in the flesh": God has anointed a man for the office.

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Thus young Hill wrestled with theological problems. A t this time, too, he became critical of his former confidence in Priestley's philosophy, and in other directions also experienced a new awakening of thought. Emerson's addresses, for instance, seemed at first "queer stuff, — part sensible and part unintelligible, but all clothed in a dress of words, which rather hides than displays his thoughts." T o one brought up in scriptural tradition Emerson wrote a new language, yet after a day's thought on the subject Hill pushed aside the prejudices of his tutor and " t h o u g h t better of Emerson, by interpreting his abstractions, and so understanding b e t t e r " every time he read. Although it was not until 1846 that Hill began to study Emerson and to admire him, this widening of thought prepared him to link the laws of nature and of God. From this time on he began to grapple consciously with philosophical problems in earnest. Meanwhile Mr. Stebbins and the Christian Register were his guides. T o the Register he contributed a number of poems of a rather hymnlike style. Lest he be discovered he signed them with assumed initials, for he said they were only the results of odd moments. The rhymes have been written down as fast as I could make them and not altered before they were printed, and the sentiments were not such as I wished most to

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express but such as I could first get into verse. I sent them to the Register not because I would be pleased with seeing such in print, but because I know some folks are tickled with anything however poor if it only jingles, and I thought they might be pleased to read them. O n e of these poems, beginning " R e j o i c e y o u n g m a n in t h e s t r e n g t h of t h y y o u t h , " characterizes T h o m a s Hill a t t h e age of t w e n t y , for he did himself rejoice in t h e o u t d o o r s a n d in f e a t s of s t r e n g t h . H e could wheel m o r e logs t h a n a n y o n e else, a n d w e n t o f t e n for long climbs o v e r t h e hills. I n d e e d these m u s t h a v e been t h e m o s t e n j o y a b l e d a y s a t L e o m inster, for their description fills his letters. I wish indeed I had learned to sketch from Nature. The scenery is beautiful at all times, and has been unusually so for the last five or six weeks. The hills that do not rise more than four to six hundred feet have deciduous trees enough to ornament them well in the autumn, but the higher mountains are generally clothed with evergreens. I went [in June] over South Monoosnuc hill, and from the northwest side had a splendid view. M t . Holyoke rose far in the west; in the north, Monadnoc in New Hampshire about thirty miles distant towered up, and beside it several other high peaks, some of which were so far distant I tho't they must be the White Mountains. When coming down the hill on this side again I was obliged to take hold of thin branches and swing off from steep ledges four or five feet high, and sometimes landed in a hole between the blocks of granite, covered with brush thro' which my legs would sink. Once I landed in

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a plat of Rhus toxicodendron, about three feet high in full flowering. I held up my hands and ran through it and when I reached the brook at the foot I smeared myself well with mud and washed myself well, and believe I escaped unhurt. As I was crossing a lot I looked behind me and behold a steer was coming full split towards me. The fence was about six rods off, and I was there and over it about so quick that all the horned cattle in Leominster could not have caught me. I suppose if I had gone towards the steer it would have run away from me. I remember starting from the milk house, when I was a little boy with an apron on, to go for locust beans to the drift lane hedge. Mr. Boggs' bull was in the lot and he came at me. The " B o y in Danger" came into my mind and I thought I should go right up. Sister Tilly stood by the milk house. I screamed to her, as I stood right still, " O ! Tilly!" And off the bull went as fast as he came. I found, before the steer came, a patch of Geranium maculatum, the first I have seen. But it was nearly out of flower. On the hill grew Geranium robertianum, with a very strong odor and much smaller flowers. The spoonhunt, as the boys call laurel, and the strawberries are very abundant, some places as red with these as Mrs. O'Neil's cloak. I thought when I started it would be a pleasant day for walking, but going up and down Monoosnuc, running from the steer, and a bright sun made me both hot and tired when I reached home at four o'clock. A t seven I started to take another walk and I found my heels so sore from jumping down the granite ledges of Monoosnuc, I could scarce walk. N o t every d a y was as strenuous as this one. M o r e often he trudged off across the fields with

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a young tailor acquaintance for company to gather wild plants for his garden. While at the Fredonian he had planted a few flowers in one corner of the yard and at the apothecary's he had studied Beck's Manual of Botany. Now, at Leominster, a young doctor of the town who was also an amateur botanist encouraged Hill's inquiries and advanced him still further on the road of natural history. A s early as August, 1838, Hill was inclined to go to Leicester Academy. For almost fifty years that institution had been at the head of Worcester County schools, and already pupils were coming there from a distance to prepare for college. A t first his brothers must have thought it too expensive an undertaking, and for a time the matter was dropped. A t length, in December," General " Gibbs sold his house, and Hill was turned out of his boarding place. He then joined his friend Tyler in keeping bachelor's hall near the tailor shop, living cheaply but comfortably, and studying the classics six to seven hours a day. This gave another aspect to his plans for Leicester, especially as Mr. Stebbins favored the opportunity offered there for the composition and delivery of addresses. In addition he urged Hill to think of taking the college course before entering the Divinity School. So, on January 16, 1839, Hill set off for Leicester, wondering and doubting what lay ahead of him, but spurred

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on b y M r . Stebbins and by his own ambition. few days later he wrote:

A

I got a pair of pants and a vest, borrowed f i o of Gen. Gibbs and came to this place, took room No. 6 in the building, engaged to board with Mrs. Rawson, and entered a class in Virgil, another in Cicero, and a third in Greek Reader. So now I am a student. I believe I shall be afraid to enter the Divinity School this fall; afraid that the attempt to master so much would injure me, and afraid that the mastery would be so imperfect that I would have to pass examinations in all that the class has been studying for the six months previous. I must wait till August 1840. To go through college would take too much time and means, especially if I had to get rid of as large a contingent fund each year as John calculates. This institution is very Orthodox, and Abolition to the hub. Our terms are eleven weeks in length, beginning on the last Thursdays of February and May, and on the first of September and December. A f t e r a week, preferring molasses instead of butter, and water fresh from the pump to baneful coffee, Hill shifted to the Commons to board. A s he was a little older than his fellows his earnestness and his firm convictions at once gained their respect. A t the beginning of the next term he was elected President of the Peace Society, President of the Temperance Society, President of the Missionary Society, and Editor of the Rambler, and was appointed to make an oration before a public meeting of the Social Fraternity, which when

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d e l i v e r e d w a s , as he w r o t e w i t h m o d e s t " m u c h a p p l a u d e d , deservedly

humor,

of course."

I propose to stay here five terms, i. e. until M a y 1840, and then to go somewhere and study Hebrew, perhaps with M r . Stebbins, so as to go to Cambridge in A u g u s t 1840. M y fellow students, though Orthodox, are liberal, so that their company is quite agreeable. Orthodoxy in Massachusetts is quite different from Presbyterianism and Baptism [sic] in N e w Jersey. T h e y treat me like one of themselves here, call upon me to ask a blessing at table as frequently as any one; call upon me to open the Social Fraternity by prayer; call upon me to pray in their prayer meetings; in short ask me to take part in all their religious exercises j u s t as they would an Orthodox man. T h e teachers sometimes twist the Scriptures to their own purposes in a way that is painful to me, but they never say anything on doctrinal points directly to me. W h e n talking to Faulkner [a classmate] one d a y , he asked me whether there was anything of the bigotry and intolerance in Orthodoxy of which Channing accuses it. I told him there was farther south, and that there used to be here, but that the Unitarians had improved the Orthodox v e r y much within the last five or six years. H e acknowledged the change, but he would not admit the cause! A l t h o u g h t h e c o u n t r y round about Leicester afforded no new botanical interest, Hill

continued

his w a l k s , a n d g a i n e d t h e c o m p a n i o n s h i p o f o t h e r s o f his o w n a g e a n d s p i r i t . T h i s b r o u g h t h i m i n t o a r a n g e o f t h o u g h t w h i c h h e h a d l a c k e d in s t u d y i n g b y h i m s e l f a n d in t a l k i n g o n l y w i t h o l d e r p e o p l e as he had at Leominster.

W h i l e his i n t e n s e i n t e r e s t

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in religion made him respected, it must at the same time have set him apart. I have not walked on Sunday since I came to Leicester except in the evening, and I have not walked in the evening on Sunday for three months. The law of the Academy forbids us to walk before sunset and I think it is a bad example to set to walk even after sunset. For though in my walk I might meditate in the field at eventide upon proper and holy themes, and might make each place through which I wandered a Bethel and there lift up my thoughts in praise or prayer, yet many who would be led by my example to walk on the Sabbath might walk out merely to profane the day and justify themselves by my example. During the week his walks to Strawberry Hill provided both inspiring views and companions. Week-ends and vacations gave opportunity for visits to Leominster, and, more rarely, to see his sister at Mount Holyoke Seminary. On these expeditions Hill generally " t o o k passage on two calves," and at the beginning of one February vacation battled rain and mud the whole forty miles to South Hadley. In the same spirit he pursued his studies. Virgil followed Cicero, and the New Testament soon took the place of Lucian and Homer. Still the Divinity School seemed far far away, and Mr. Stebbins again spoke of first going through college. Nor was he the only one. T h e Rev. Samuel May, who as minister at Leicester had become Hill's friend and ad-

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viser, also favored the idea. Furthermore, several boys at the Academy were planning to enter A m herst, and their arguments, in addition to those of the R e v . M r . Stebbins for his alma mater, almost decided Hill to go with them. A s before, the ministry was a clear goal, but the w a y toward it was beset with doubts, for there was little money in the Hill family, and with the full tide of learning before him, T o m both wondered and doubted at his own ability. N o t sure which road to take, he wrote his brothers for advice: The arguments of my friends almost persuade me to go through Amherst College. The expenses there are from $100 to $150 per annum. With the increased amount of knowledge, of age, and experience of men, I could enter upon my work with a better prospect of doing, with the aid of the Spirit, my Master's service. Opportunity is given at the college to teach in the winter. I might do that for the benefit of my head, heart, and pocket. I wish you would tell me what you think of a college course. T h e family were startled, apparently not so much at the prospect of his going through the college course as at the idea of choosing Amherst. T o them it was an almost unknown quantity, while H a r v a r d , on the other hand, had always been accepted as his goal. Moreover, his cousin Hobson from Philadelphia was then at the Divinity School. Answering their questions T o m wrote in M a y , 1839:

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" B u t why Amherst?" Amherst College is near to my present situation; its reputation, good; its graduates, with whom I am acquainted, men of talent and usefulness; its course of study as great as a person of little preparation can go through with; its situation more healthy for a person of weak lungs than Cambridge; its expense small; its professor of Chemistry and Natural Philosophy [Edward Hitchcock] unrivalled; its proximity to South Hadley pleasant to me; and some other reasons of minor importance, some of which, given by Mr. Stebbins, I scarce know whether ought to have weight with me or not. If you can find objections strong enough to meet these reasons let us have them. M y objections to Cambridge are : its expenses are entirely beyond my means; its nearness to the sea shore I am afraid would injure my lungs, (I dread the residence there at the Divinity School); and its great and peculiar advantages are useless to me because my preparatory studies have not been enough to enable me to enjoy them. M y objection to Dartmouth is that it is " w a y out of the world" up in New Hampshire a hundred miles off; to Williamstown, that it is unknown to me; to Yale, its expense; to Rutgers, that it is at home and I ought to see the world; to Nassau Hall, a deep rooted prejudice which I have against it; and those are all and each of the colleges to which I could be expected to go, I believe. E v e n at the end of June, 1839, Hill's eye w a s fixed on A m h e r s t . I t is possible that his interest in natural science was taking hold of him as it was to later during his college course, and so diverted his attention to A m h e r s t and to the renowned H i t c h cock, w h o w a s b o t h minister and scientist. Y e t t w o

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months later he was in Cambridge taking examinations for entrance to Harvard. Family pressure probably had some influence, as well as Hill's own decision, backed up by Mr. May and Mr. Stebbins, to continue on his chosen path. One of his companions at Leicester Academy, however, attributed the changing force to the father of one of Hill's classmates, John A. Smith of Leicester, who had taken a considerable interest in him. At the time when, by his advice, Hill entered Harvard rather than any other college Mr. Smith is said to have remarked prophetically, "There, I have given Harvard College a President!" At twenty-one Thomas Hill was a tall and well set young man, in spite of his fancied inhibition of "weak lungs." He reveled in the outdoors, both to enjoy it physically and to appreciate it mentally. For his age he had a well founded knowledge of botany, and excelled, too, in other studies. In mathematics, for instance, he had gradually cultivated a mental aptness which carried him so far above the average that in his Harvard admission examination he found himself marked down for omitting the details of what were to him obvious steps in his work. So it was with a unity of purpose that in fifteen months Hill was able to conquer the classics and to fit himself for college. Yet Hill's stay at Leominster and at Leicester meant more than that. They meant a social edu-

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cation, a partial counteracting of his years in the printing office and in the chemist's shop. T h e y meant education through men and through living; and as the outdoors, his companions, his studies, and his thoughts played their parts during these months, no less did the friendly counsels of M r . Stebbins and M r . M a y . As Hill wrote in his last letter from Leicester: I shall feel quite homesick when I leave here, for I have become quite attached to my teachers, fellow students, minister, Sunday class, and a few others. O how time flies ! It is more than a year that I have been studying, and it seems but yesterday when I wrote to Orville Dewey. Then what a mountain appeared before me in the acquisition of languages. Now I can take up a Virgil or a Greek Testament and read them with scarcely more labor than if I were reading some English manuscripts which I have seen. Thus persevering labor conquers, but time is in the meantime conquering us, rolling us every moment nearer to death and to the eternal judgment. 'Tis like this paper which as my pen moves is covered over and leaves me less and less room to write, and what has once gone from under the pen has stained it forever, and must come before your eyes.

Chapter III HARVARD COLLEGE Y 1839 Harvard had celebrated a bicentenary and had settled again into another century of academic existence. Salt tides came up the river past Gerry's Landing; the Charles wound through the meadows of Mount Auburn; and old Cambridge centered around the life of the college. Only University Hall stood on one side of the Y a r d ; Gore Hall was just beginning to raise its turrets to the eastward; and thoughts for the advancement of higher learning were still the thoughts of a few individuals. Harvard was sheltered by its elms and by its age, and was surrounded by a wood fence and the rules of the Faculty.

B

The custom of education brought each year seventy or more fifteen- and sixteen-year-old boys to Harvard College. Bonfires, mass meetings, and town fights made no distinction of classes in their hilarity of youth, and "annoying the Freshmen," as the Faculty put it, was only a minor attraction to upperclass ingenuity, yet even that served at times as a text for President Quincy's admonitions. T o one who was much older than his fellows and who had a definite aim in life, this college of reci-

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tations and revelry held the promise of an institution of learning. Thomas Hill's interest in Harvard was in the task which lay before him, to prepare himself for the Christian ministry. Thus, at first, neither did he like his surroundings nor did some of his fellow Freshmen like him. Hardly had he become settled before he wrote to his brothers and sisters: There is a scandalous degree of profanity and winebibbing here, I don't care who says to the contrary. l ' v e seen enough since I've been here to make me sick of the sight. There is nothing but mischief in their heads from morn to night. While I am writing some of the wise fools are amusing themselves by throwing shot into my open windows. I advised them not to waste their lead so, for it was silly to be so extravagant. I would however hope, or as Mr. Dewey says, I am persuaded, better things of most of them. On looking at my floor I find that it was gravel that was thrown in my windows. This is the first time I have been troubled. I hope 'twill be the last, for as they saw I neither moved nor raised my eyes from the paper they will think I care nothing for them and thus leave me. I suppose you would like to know where I am fixed. The room is on the north entry of Hollis Hall, ground floor, south side, west end. I board in Commons, where the table is very good indeed and the victuals furnished at cost. I wish they were more of them Graham. It would please me better and cost them less. I suppose many of the students however care nothing either for health or economy.

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T h e Freshman Class consists of 76 and is divided into three divisions; the first containing thirty seven or eight; the second twenty two or three, and the third sixteen. T h e divisions are made according to the scholarship and apparent talents of the scholars; the third division containing the best scholars and taking rather longer lessons than the second, and the second than the first. Our division recites in L i v y (Latin historian) at 8, and in Herodotus (Greek historian) at 9. A t two o'clock we recite in Geometry. Our lessons are pretty long and we spend a good deal of time in studying. This evening at six we were called together for prayers and the freshmen had their places assigned. A n old man who could hardly see even with his specs on officiated, and in a very feeling manner too: the R e v . Dr. Ware, father of H e n r y W a r e , Jr. I do not know with whom I shall meet tomorrow to commemorate the love of the dying Saviour, but I trust it will be with brethren having their hearts filled with a sense of that love, and that we shall have a pleasant season together. In Cambridge Hill found both interesting and inspiring preachers. First

Church,

gave

T h e R e v . John Albro, at the "both

sense

and

t o passages w h i c h before he had not

beauty"

understood.

Another pattern to follow was the R e v .

Henry

W a r e , Jr., the Professor of P u l p i t Eloquence, w h o p r e a c h e d w i t h " n o noise o r d e c l a m a t i o n , n o listless sleepy reading, but with the voice of a man feeling w h a t h e s a y s is t r u t h a n d s t r i v i n g t o m a k e his h e a r ers feel i t . "

T h e r e were others, too, w h o felt this

inspiration, and within

a few months Hill

had

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found a few "pious members" of his class with whom he could pass an hour on Sunday mornings in prayer or in talking over some passage of Scripture. While these were few among the students of the college, it encouraged him to know that others beside himself looked to the guidance of the Spirit. Still there were plenty of pranks at Harvard which would have turned one less devoted to his purpose into the ways of the majority. More than one night's mischief burdened Hill's first few months at college. His studious habits and his religious attitude made him an attractive target for those bent on mischief. Some of them made up fabulous tales of how he had boasted that he was going to become the first scholar, and how he had said that he was about to reform the University and bring it into a state of good order. They said, too, in their malice, that he had thrown open his door and prayed aloud when people were passing. In contrast to his former pleasant surroundings, all this hurt Hill tremendously, and all the more because it was not only the hazing of one class by another, but was a personal derision joined in by members of his own class. He said little about it to his family until it was all over. Then towards the end of November he wrote: I confess I did wrong in not telling you what my trouble was. Some little brats had gone into a closet and opening the window were firing out of this dark hole at

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the windows of Kingman's room. M y own windows had j u s t been stoned in and I thought these fellows were firing at mine too, Kingman's room adjoining mine. W e went outside, found who were firing, and told a college officer who came and scared the chaps b y scolding them. This immediately gave us the character of spies, and the next night, I unguardedly going to bed with the door unlocked, some ruffians came in, dragged the mattress from under me and emptied several pails of water on me. I immediately ran yelling out of doors and when I waked up I was dancing on the frosty grass in the bright moonlight, dripping with water. I ran back to m y room and it was fifteen or twenty minutes before I could think what was the matter. A young man lost his life in this way a few years ago, the shock and the chill bringing on a cold which soon killed. I was half sick under it for four or five days, trembling and jumping at even the creaking of m y own shoes. In addition to this I was hissed and laughed at, had bottles thrown out of the windows at me, etc, etc. Our windows were broken almost every night and at last we moved to the third story of Massachusetts. Here we were at peace until last Friday night, when two or three more lights were broken. On Sunday night they were fired at again, and I complained of the boys to the Faculty and on T u e s d a y morning two of them were expelled. From this I suppose fresh trouble will arise, but I will be better prepared to meet it if it comes now. [December 4] I am sorry you are grieved on account of m y college troubles. T h e y do not trouble me any more. I mean the past transactions do not trouble me, nor are the students making any fresh trouble with fresh insults. M r . Stebbins passed through j u s t such an ordeal at Amherst, and so must every one who prefers

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his idea of duty to a slavish compliance with wicked customs. Every year however this necessity is diminished, for these customs are broken up gradually and it is hoped that in a few years this system of college honor will be put to rest with the laws of duelling and of war. One of our Tutors, Robert Bartlett, is a very kind man and has shown me marks of his good feelings. He says that the best condition to be in with respect to the college is to be unknown and disregarded. The second best is to be hated by all hands. The worst is to be beloved and "popular." For if the whole class are hanging about you seeking your assistance and counsel, or dragging you into sports and amusements, they waste your time and entirely prevent you from becoming anything. Once the difficulties of the fall were over, the third floor of Massachusetts was " s n u g as can be, and nothing to be desired except more sun." His chum, as room-mates were then called, was rather a trial, but in spite of his mannerisms was at least more tolerable than others might have been. So with a large carpet, which made the room look " q u i t e like a parlor," and with a stove in the fireplace, the remainder of the term was spent in comparative comfort. At first Hill boarded in Commons, but soon feeling overfed with milk and hot bread made of wheat flour, he began to suffer from the sarcasm of his friends as he grew fatter and heavier. So he left the rough-and-tumble of the Commons for his own small stove, thus saving both money and health, besides the effort of dodging flying chunks of bread

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and boiled potatoes. Studies took much of his time, and he stood at the head of his class. Still they were not his only interest, for the Botanic Garden soon became a favorite haunt. Saturdays he often spent in calls upon Aunt Nancy Bowen or Cousin Sam Hobson. Both Mr. Stebbins and Mr. May came several times to Cambridge, and Hill was always in correspondence with them. In the spring, as a mental relief from the tension of college, he freed himself from the "lengthening t e r m " to visit Leominster. There he could revisit the many friends to whom he had become quite attached, and, as before, he could sit and talk with Mr. Stebbins on philosophy and religion and listen to the preaching which he most admired. In his religious thought Hill continued to develop along the same lines at Harvard as he had previously at Leominster. His knowledge of Greek led him to interpret the Bible from a different standpoint, and he began to forsake the doctrines in which he had previously believed for a system of thought based on his own literal translation and influenced by current theological discussions. In regard to the disputes on future punishment he said that he used to be a firm restorationist, but that now under the influence of the Greek New Testament he leaned strongly towards annihilation or eternal suffering. He had always been interested in these questions, which were vital ones in his day;

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nevertheless he was beginning to feel an influence opposed to the narrowness of debate which was purely theological. First aroused by his reading Emerson at Leominster, the spirit of Transcendentalism again gave Hill something to wonder and think about in Carlyle. It is said our tutors are both transcendentalists, but I have not heard anything like it; except that once or twice they have spoken of innate ideas. Dana, a classmate, is about one-fourth, and perhaps he has made me about one-sixteenth of a transcendentalist by lending me Sartor Resartus, a curious book written in a ludicrous style, conveying his doctrines under pretence of a translation from a German loafer's manuscript. I laughed and sneered and despised and wondered alternately as I read it. The doctrine of Clothes is the subject. I feel queer here, associated with the sons of the Wares, the Pierponts, the Sedgwicks, the Sargents, the Frothinghams, &c., and perhaps it will make me vain. If stinted funds and worn clothes made him feel socially inferior, it came as a natural furtherance of his reaction to the hazing through which he was going, for Hill's difference in age and in ideals was a bait for both the brahmins and the philistines of the college. T h a t winter vacation Hill returned to N e w Brunswick, and with the beginning of a new term he looked forward to a fresh start. A few in his class he had found to be Christians in action as well as in name. Also he was looking forward to room-

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ing alone, for the conceit of his chum had finally become unbearable. As he said of him, on the way back from vacation, " I went to the Providence, and soon had the — pleasure I was about to say — sensation of seeing m y chum come aboard." It was an ill foreboding, for the reaction of coming back to Cambridge and of trying to settle again in its unpleasant atmosphere soon affected Hill physically as well as mentally. As he wrote in March, 1840: The studies this term are more onerous than they were last, more numerous at least. Our class is now engaged in Latin, Greek, French, Mathematics, History, and Natural History. These two last are very interesting, though the author in the Natural History is sometimes indefinite and indistinct, and indeed in my opinion sometimes erroneous, though only on trifling matters. The numerous studies and the bother of moving and one thing and another drove me sick. I struggled against it for three or four days, but had to knock under, sent for a doctor, went to board at Mrs. Underbill's and was sick a week. The doctor dosed me savagely with Croton Oil and Colocynth and refused pay for attendance when I offered him silver. It made me quite homesick to return from such a pleasant journey and such agreeable visits as I had enjoyed, and in less than a week to be sick among strangers. But it did not equal the gloomy feeling at first leaving Leominster. Then came dark doubts and dreadful temptings in my mind. It makes me shudder to think of them. But this time it was mere homesickness, the disagreeable situation here continually forcing me to recall the happier scenes of vacation,

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and thus the thoughts of Brunswick drove away all power to study. I have no chum and expect none this term. I am living quite expensively, $2.50 a week for board and $15.00 a term for room rent instead of chumming and making it seven and a half. But it will be better for me to study well and keep my health for two years than to drag on and be sick four. We could not form an eating club. Perhaps we can soon. I think that when I feel good again I shall only dine at Mrs. Underbill's and eat the other meals by myself which will save fifty cents a week. Our table has some of the best scholars in the class at it, some of the best in character and best in scholarship. B y the end of April he was again in good spirits. K e e p i n g bachelor's hall for awhile, s t u d y i n g , m a k ing social visits to both relatives and friends, writing interminable letters, w a l k i n g in the Botanic G a r d e n and caring for his own window-boxes, attending the D i v i n i t y School sermons, and reading a little every d a y in the W h i g reading room — al] k e p t his time full. A s he m a d e friends and as his a t t i t u d e of tolerance became b e t t e r understood b y his fellows, his ambition likewise rose, and soon he began to accuse himself of indolence. Time flies. The Spring begins to show herself, and the frogs, the insects, and the birds have already saluted her with notes of joy. Flora too approaches and earth grows green beneath her steps. The generally received opinion is, I believe, that the idle man's time hangs heavy on his hands, yet I believe that I never had so vivid an idea of the shortness of time as when I look back on idle time.

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Nearly half the term is gone and yet it seems as if but little time had passed, for I have not done half what I intended to do in that time. I have kept my standing in the class it is true, and have read a little, but unless I do twice as much the rest of the te'rm I shall feel as if I had been asleep. If I was only as punctual in fulfilling my plans, and as ready and persevering in carrying out my good wishes, I might be much better worthy of the kindness and attention shown towards me. Treated with such uniform respect and kindness, resorted to by classmates as if an oracle of truth, and finding the tutors and professors so confiding in my apparent honesty and studiousness, I fear lest I am puffed up and think more highly of myself than I ought to think. This last sentence was dictated by a love of approbation doubtless, and that organ whispers "mock humility will make them think less of you." T h u s by the middle of the term Hill found himself back on even ground. H e had emerged victorious in the struggle between the ideals and standards bred in him and those of the college atmosphere of the time. W h a t added more to his victory, he still stood at the head of his class. So, as time went on, he wrote with satisfaction: Studies seem easier now that we have the run of them. I can read French now as readily as I could Latin or Greek after I had studied them seven or eight months. This shows how the knowledge of one language facilitates the acquisition of others. Understanding in some measure three languages, to all of which French has some resemblance in construction, and to two of which

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it is intimately connected in etymology, it is easier for me to study than if I had only one. For a few days at a time we have had very warm weather alternating with easterly winds. These last make me feel a little hoarse and sore in the throat. I fat up like a pig, but how can I help it unless I starve? I have eaten no meat for a month past and yet I am fatter daily. The heat is now excessive, but we have great luxury in leaping into fifteen feet of salt water. Studies now are irksome, but yet I manage to review a good deal of Latin and read a good deal of French. Even scribbling in this style is too laborious and I quit. H e w a s glad when it came time for the summer vacation. P a r t of the six weeks he spent visiting those places where he had acquaintances, M a r l borough, Leominster, Princeton, and Leicester. H e intended to return to t a k e a j o b setting t y p e at Folsom's printing shop, for the fall of V i c k s b u r g B a n k stock had seriously affected the meagre funds on w h i c h he relied for his expenses, but the plan fell through. Nevertheless he did find enough w o r k to tide him over. In the next winter v a c a t i o n , 1841, he t a u g h t school at Lincoln, for H a r v a r d students were then almost the only teachers the neighboring towns could secure. N o t only did Hill fill the rôle of teacher and so replenish his p o c k e t b o o k , but he m a d e a lasting impression at Lincoln b y the w a y s in w h i c h he showed his interest in children. In the long winter evenings he invented games to amuse

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them, and mended their stools and playthings. Thus early appeared that which was to make him beloved as a pastor, teacher, and friend to the children of two generations. The most far-reaching circumstance of Hill's sophomore year was his increasing acquaintance with Professor Benjamin Peirce. As a learned mathematician " B e n n y " Peirce had a fame as widespread as it was illustrious; as a pedagogue he was the despair of both his pupils and his colleagues. " T o send a beginner to Peirce to learn mathematics," it was said, "seemed like committing an infant child to a giant to learn to walk." Indeed Peirce's pupils, contrary to all student custom, found that they had to resort to other and less formidable teachers for explanations out of class. Young Hill, on the other hand, had the sort of mathematical insight which quickly grasped the principles behind the all too concise statements of Peirce's textbook. In recitation he showed a grasp of the subject far beyond the average, and it was not long before that eminent professor had mentioned as much to other members of the Faculty. Twenty years later President Quincy, long since retired, wrote to Hill : Our connections, at that period, were reciprocally interesting and memorable. Early in your college life one of the professors, I think it was Peirce, drew my attention to your character and promise, and your course be-

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came to me an object of observation and inquiry, more than was, as it respects others, common with me. This you never knew, and until now I had never occasion particularly to intimate. Under an unpretending surface, I discerned mental wealth and faithful study, destined to expand and shine in power and usefulness. As an evidence that those are not words of course and for effect, your "Exercise" on one occasion, I preserved and is still in my possession; to me a gratifying evidence of my preconceived opinion of talent and hope. In those times the gap between students and Faculty was almost impassable. For a student to enter the classroom early, or stay to ask a question, was enough to subject him to Coventry, and those who clandestinely sought help from their tutors did so under cover of night. Under such circumstances Peirce welcomed Hill all the more, while on the other hand Hill's classmates looked on him as an epitome of learning, and respected him accordingly. Thus Peirce led the way into the abstractions of mathematics and Hill followed, becoming able in time to interpret and clarify in ordinary language the ideas which Peirce could express only as mathematical concepts. But while his capacities could grow only at a gradual pace, there was a more immediate result of this friendship. In the summer of 184I he helped to move the library into its new building and to clear up the grounds about it, and in the following winter vacation Professor Peirce engaged him for work at a meteorological

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observatory set up at the astronomical observatory near the College Y a r d . T h u s Hill wrote to his sister Henrietta at N e w Brunswick: T h r e e of us are e m p l o y e d ; we observe the m a g n e t i c needles, T h e r m o m e t e r , and B a r o m e t e r , e v e r y second hour, beginning each d a y at 8h 24m A.M. (2 o ' c l o c k G ö t t i n g e n time), and continuing t w e n t y four hours. D u r i n g the interval of t w o hours between the observations we sleep at night, a n d in the d a y time calculate the curves. T o g i v e y o u some idea of these curves I copy on a v e r y small scale part of one of our m a p s . I n our large m a p we use w a t e r colors and t a k e a different color for each d a y . W h e n the w e e k is c o m p l e t e d we m a k e another curve of a still different color to show the average of the week. T h e n we g o to work and calculate a form u l a b y which this average curve can be nearly represented and then calculate a curve b y the f o r m u l a and d r a w it in d o t t e d m a r k s , and that ends the w e e k ' s w o r k for the thermometer. T h e same work m u s t be also done for the B a r o m e t e r , and similar for the M a g n e t i c needle, only t h a t instead of the height of a column of quicksilver we set d o w n the distance of the N o r t h end of the needle from the M e r i d ian line. F o r as the Sun rises the needle m o v e s westward, and as the Sun goes d o w n the needle goes east, with m u c h greater regularity than the T h e r m o m e t e r rises and falls. Y e t the change is v e r y slight. I f the m a g n e t i c needle is one foot long the north end is o n l y a b o u t one one hundredth of an inch farther west at noon t h a n at midnight. Some m a y think t h a t this little c h a n g e is not w o r t h noticing, but let us remember t h a t this little change, so regular as it is, m u s t be produced b y some l a w established b y our F a t h e r ' s wisdom, and

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therefore not unimportant; and that the observation of this little change may reveal to us that law. Ah! Sister, this study of Natural Sciences is enchanting work. How rich the treasures of enjoyment it opens to us. We seem admitted as it were to the Divine counsels and are shown what were His plans in creation. But how vastly inferior our wisdom is to His. As Professor Peirce this morning observed, it was kindness in Him to make the laws of matter so simple as H e has. H e might have built the world on complicated principles, so that no human understanding could have fathomed its laws. Perhaps H e has made some things so. Perhaps this very branch of science, Meteorology, may be of too complicated a nature for human minds to grasp. Perhaps however it may be reserved for some happy mortal to discover all its laws and find new proofs of God's love and wisdom. Professor Peirce talked to me a long while this morning urging me to give my whole attention to physical science. He says that my mind is just adapted to it, that I have the same talents and the same mental character, as has appeared in every man who has really advanced the physical sciences, that although I may be of much use to the world as a clergyman, yet I shall most benefit mankind, most promote good morals and sound faith, and most glorify my Creator, by cultivating those powers in which I most excel. I do not appeal, said he, to your personal ambition, altho' there I am sure that there is no comparison between the two courses of life, but I appeal to your benevolence, — Science is not a narrow thing. Sir Isaac Newton has benefitted mankind, has made the whole world happier, has done much more good than if he had been a clergyman. Yes, said I, but I think that there is more need of making direct

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efforts to elevate the morals of the people than of making indirect efforts thro the medium of science. So there is, said he, but then there are many many clergymen, and few, very few philosophers; and if I am not very much mistaken you are extremely well adapted to join this band of a few. And so you see, Tet, by artful appeals to my ambition, benevolence, and pride, he would flatter me to forsake the Gospel, and take up the book of Nature. But I cannot; necessity is upon me; woe is to me if I preach not, yea the love of Christ constraineth me. What! shall I see poverty and distress on every side, shall I see Sin devastating the human family and Superstition's cursed car driving triumphant over prostrate millions, shall I see men rushing on blindfolded in crowded ranks to destruction, shall I see this and yet sit in my closet and ponder over functions and forces? Never. Shame rather be on me that I am not already in the field; shame rather be upon me that here I sit so long "preparing" for the work. Hill was regarded by Professor Peirce as one of the best mathematicians who had been at H a r v a r d for m a n y years. In his senior year he invented the " o c c u l t a t o r , " a machine for calculating the time and paths of eclipses, for which he was awarded the Scott Medal of the Franklin Institute. T h a t such talent should be wasted upon a minister was beyond Peirce's comprehension, but against Hill's firm resolution he could do nothing. H e urged him to accept an excellent position at the National Observatory in Washington, but his pupil would not

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for a moment consider it. Yet this much was gained: not only was Hill thoroughly absorbed in science while in college, but throughout his life retained that interest. His belief that the law of science "must be produced by some law established by our Father's wisdom" became the foundation stone of his preaching for the next fifty years. In the two middle years of his college career Hill's time was every minute occupied. Not only did he keep a top place in his studies, but through his work for Professor Peirce he found enough to pay for his board during the winter. At the beginning of his senior year he was still forty dollars in debt to the College, and in his pocket had but six dollars and the promise of a school for the coming winter vacation. President Quincy urged him to undertake some tutoring, but as Hill wrote to his friend Samuel M a y : Dr. Howe could not raise money enough to pay me, for I would not undertake so arduous a job for less than $200 and he could not pay that, and I am glad he could not, for it would have been enough to kill me. President Quincy pressed me to take it for less and tried to flatter me into it; but I, for a wonder, had courage enough to refuse, to believe that Joe might have as good a teacher, and that I could not do justice to myself and to him too.

Yet in the very same letter Hill revealed a characteristic generosity: " I have declined the office of theme bearer in behalf of my chum Thayer, who is

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as poor as I, but stands lower in scholarship and has no friends." During these two years Hill had also become prominent in both the literary and scientific societies of the College and had made many friends. For one group he composed a long poetical satire, "doggerel verse" as he called it, dashed off on the spur of the moment. One particular jeu d'esprit, entitled " Y e s 'Twas the Moon," his friends eagerly copied off and greeted with acclaim. The other night Noyes took it to his boarding house, and the fellows were so delighted with it that they determined to rehearse it with theatrical pomp. So they put out all the candles but one, set that under the table, hung a lantern to the ceiling for the moon, and then Noyes played the bugle and beat the drums. When the music was over, they rung a bell, and the candle from under the table came on top the table. Belton then read the poem, interrupted by frequent bursts of applause and flourishes of trumpets. After the performance, Noyes (the supposed author) was called for with enthusiastic cheering. Noyes came forward, made a speech, disclaimed the authorship, and the performance ended with music. Double curtains had been drawn at every window. Meanwhile Hill continued to work for Peirce. Once he became so immersed in tions and in the proof sheets of Liebig's that he forgot to return to his boarding lunch, and when put to it on his return,

Professor computaChemistry house for he reeled



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off the menu of the d a y before, to the glee of his fellow boarders. His " h a b i t u a l reading in Prof. C h a n n i n g ' s lecture r o o m " brought an official F a c u l t y warning, and w i t h his thoughts and reading ever on m a t h e m a t i c s and physics he wrote in 1842, at the end of the winter v a c a t i o n , to his closest friend and classmate, F r e d K n a p p , " f o o l ishly, sleepily, w e a r i l y " : My Friendly Neighborly Klassmate: I am ashamed of not having written afore, but pressing business has pervented me. I have calculated twenty empirical curves, besides other labors of equal fatigue, having lectured three times [on the subject of the air], once to a goodly company in the town house of Natick, having had my name trumpeted in printed handbills. And now I havn't got no time to write to you. I would give you a long letter if I had time. I would tell you how I had an invitation to a party at Dr. Plympton's and how I didn't go, and how afterwards, Dr. P's folks wouldnt come to the observatory, how Mary Elisabeth told me that if I had come she would have shown me all the pretty girls of Cambridge, how my mouth watered when she said so; how I ransacked the records of observations and found that the needles always have wiberated when there wan't no fire; how Prof. Peirce and I fixed magnets round the Gauss, and greatly decreased the time of its wiberation; how the barometer fell t'other night to 28.346, so that Prof. Peirce thought his barometer was leaking at the top and was going to give up his observations; how Prof. Peirce's new book is coming out, and how he gives me the sheets as fast as they are printed; how I have one pupil in algebra who gives me three dollars a week, and how

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I h a v e another pupil in reading, writing, and arithmetic from w h o m I shall t a k e nothing; how I ' v e been to D r . W a l k e r ' s lectures, and w h a t a noble lecturer the doctor is; how Peirce's new periodical is coming out and h o w I worked to solve questions for it and a f t e r w a r d s f o u n d o u t t h e y were the wrong questions; how Charles D i c k e n s visited the l i b r a r y ; how I saw a splendid and singular s k y on F e b r u a r y first at 2h 30m A.M., and w h a t a curious triplicated halo I saw on J a n u a r y 25; how we saw last T h u r s d a y at one A.M. A u r o r a Borealis between us and the clouds, and how C a p t . Pierce of Lincoln s a y s he has seen aurora b e t w e e n him and the neighboring woods and hills; how a thermometer exposed to the northern s k y rose t w o degrees w h e n a cloud passed in the north a n d fell two degrees in ten minutes after the s k y was clear!; how Prof. Peirce comes to the o b s e r v a t o r y a n d talks to us till the cows come home, and how he w a l k s to the A p p i a n W a y c h a t t i n g w i t h us all the w a y ; how he stopped in the street w h e n talking to me about e v o l u t e s and drew curves on the ground with the toe of his b o o t ; how we e n j o y ourselves boarding at M r s . D i x ; how I was overwhelmed with N e w Y e a r presents, h a v i n g a c o m forter, quilt, handkerchiefs, shirts, one hundred dollars in bankbills, etc. poked at m e ; how we receive meteorological tables from various p a r t s ; how we long to see our classmates again; how the report spread a b o u t the v a cation was to be seven weeks, and how false it is; and how Prof. L o n g f e l l o w is going to E u r o p e ; I say if I had time I would tell y o u all this and a great deal more, b u t I h a v e n o t time. I suppose y o u will start in a d a y or t w o at farthest after receipt of this letter, for C a m b r i d g e . T h i s f r i e n d s h i p w i t h F r e d K n a p p a n d his b r o t h e r F r a n k h a d b e g u n in t h e i r f r e s h m a n y e a r .

Living

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in D i v i n i t y H a l l , the K n a p p s were p r o b a b l y of t h a t g r o u p of " p i o u s m e m b e r s " of his class in whose c o m p a n y H i l l h a d f o u n d c o m f o r t during his first y e a r at college, for both of them later a t t e n d e d the D i v i n i t y School. F r e d K n a p p h a d become Hill's closest companion, and before setting to w o r k f o r the v a c a t i o n H i l l visited the K n a p p s at W a l p o l e , N e w H a m p s h i r e . A f t e r his return to C a m b r i d g e in J u l y , 1 8 4 2 , H i l l w r o t e to F r e d : " I enclose a letter f o r the f a i r ; I h a d w r i t t e n three of three pages each to the s a m e person, but couldn't m a k e up m y m i n d to send t h e m . " " T h e f a i r " was Miss Anne Foster Bellows, a cousin of the K n a p p s , whose presence at W a l p o l e h a d m a d e his visit there d o u b l y pleasant. T h e effect w a s o b s e r v e d b y a c l a s s m a t e and companion at the o b s e r v a t o r y , w h o a d d e d in p o s t s c r i p t : I am happy to hear from friend Hill that you vacation so cheerily. He gives flattering accounts of his reception and visit. But the sympathetic pleasure which his visit gives me is not ungratified. He has more than once intimated a wish to attend the Fair there next week. But if he goes I have too much reason to apprehend that a fair and not the fair will draw him there. I hope however, to prevail on him to remain with me. Did he see but few ladies there ? One or two seem to occupy the whole of his thoughts nearly. I hope the calculation of a few empirical curves will cure him of all undue excitement. F o r the time being Hill remained in C a m b r i d g e , b u t the next a u t u m n saw him u n e x p e c t e d l y in W a l -

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pole. H e had secured permission to undertake the first year studies of the Divinity School in addition to his college studies in order to set himself a year ahead when he should enter. T h e return to theological training made Hill look on his completely scientific interests with conscientious misgivings, and the added study was more than he could grasp immediately. In September, when he was beginning to feel this uneasiness, he had written to his brothers and sisters, " I believe if I keep as crazy and confused in memory as I am that I must have a memorandum book to note down m y thoughts. I am dreaming day and night." T h u s it happened that with the intention of taking a short vacation in which to balance himself anew, he left college at the beginning of October, 1842, apparently with the consent of his teachers, although without a formal notice to the F a c u l t y . A n d it was from Walpole that at the end of October he wrote his friend R e v . Samuel M a y : I had some trouble in my mind and thought that I was working too hard, not exactly that either, but that I was working too constantly, and so I slipped away from College and came up in these New Hampshire hills to recreate. And here I have been for a month past loafing at my ease, that is to say husking corn, driving the plough, carting corn, gathering apples, digging potatoes, churning, etc. etc., and am almost ready now to go back to Cambridge. M y "trouble" was that I became so absorbed in sci-

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entific subjects, that I could not when I tried, bring my mind to bear on any moral subject. And this was a state in which I did not choose to be, for I wish at all times to have my mind so free and uncramped that it can with pleasure turn to religious themes. Do not think I was foolish. I will give you proof in minute enumeration of particular instances if you wish that I could not think of moral or religious themes aright. A t t h e t i m e t h e p a r i s h in W a l p o l e w a s w i t h o u t a minister. As h e h a d a l r e a d y begun his d i v i n i t y studies Hill was asked t o p r e a c h , a n d was so well liked t h a t he w a s hired t o c o m e for t h e next w i n t e r vacation. Thus, with a double attraction to the locality, he could r i g h t l y describe t h e j o y of t h a t winter's stay: The time has passed very pleasantly indeed at Walpole. On Sunday evening, Mr. Allen of the Divinity School, who is teaching here, gave us lectures on religious subjects. On Wednesday evenings lectures in the Academy on divers subjects by divers people. On alternate Thursday evenings the Club. Fifteen or twenty ladies and gentlemen meet at seven o'clock, at the house of some one of their number, who usually invites a few others to tea at six. At seven the club meets. Any one who chooses raps on the table to call attention and then reads aloud anything he chooses. After an hour and a half reading of this kind, during which perhaps half a dozen have read, original contributions which have been left on the entry table are read. Then follows singing of glees and music. The town is very musical. Almost every family has a piano, and some of the young ladies cannot only give

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you the popular music but can give you even Beethoven with taste and feeling. I tho't that young ladies knew nothing of the piano except the fingering, but I have learned at Walpole that some girls cannot only finger, but understand and give expression to music, even to the unearthly strains of Beethoven's La Pathetique. And then let William Bellows, his wife, his sister Anne, and his cousin Rowe sing me a glee. The Birds of Watertown might do it better! It is no wonder that after his return to Cambridge thoughts of Walpole should fill Hill's mind, and while others were blundering through the tedium of recitations that he should write for his own contemplation: Those Walpole hills! I oft shall roam In memory, o'er their sunlit sides, Near which, thro' soft and verdant fields The graceful river slowly glides. . . .

The remaining weeks of the college year went quickly. On his way from Walpole, Hill had preached once for Mr. Stebbins, " thus beginning to pay him for his teaching me four or five years a g o " : otherwise he stayed in Cambridge, for his two months absence and the extra load of Divinity School studies forced him to concentrated effort. After graduating from college in 1843 he studied at the Divinity School for two years more, yet all the while continued his wide range of interests. In 1843 Hill published a little book of poems, Christmas, and Poems on Slavery, which he dedi-

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cated to Eliza Lee Folien, who was then active in the anti-slavery cause. At the same time he was preparing an introduction to the Freshman mathematics course, which was published in 1845 as An Elementary Treatise on Arithmetic and was quicklyadopted by Professor Peirce as the standard preparation for Harvard entrance examinations. Once he went to New Brunswick, Flemington, and Philadelphia on a visit to his brothers and sisters; yet above all other things thoughts of Walpole held Hill's attention. On one hand he was corresponding with Miss Anne Bellows, and on the other was writing almost as frequently to Fred Knapp. Several times he went to Walpole, and once wrote on returning: If I were to paint . . . that which would easiest lead me to forget my business, waste my time, and neglect my studies, what then would I paint? Why, a girl with flowery ringlets, rich ruby lips, eyes clear and blue as heaven, cheeks rosy, and manner as bewitching as the strains of her voice.

Hill's letters of 1843-44, written to Fred Knapp, who was intending to enter the Divinity School the following year, are full of short and long dissertations on style, reasoning, sermons, and lectures. "And what news do I bring from the fields you flower with so much hope?" he wrote to Fred: Why, I have read the Gospel of Matthew, and the Gospel of John with Dr. Noyes, and have a little manu-

THOMAS HILL INT 1845 From a daguerreotype

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script book of notes thereon. Have likewise gone over with some care Ecclesiastes, Proverbs, and Job. Have written divers essays, and heard divers more on divers subjects relative to style, poetry, prophesy, prayer, and have every Friday evening enjoyed an extempore debate upon a religious question. Besides this have written over a hundred verses on religious subjects, have officiated in chapel a fortnight, and composed one or two sermons. I might, perhaps should, have done more, but, as Fenelon says, the diabolical attractions of geometry have led me off to Laplace's Essai Philosophique sur le Hasard, and to Charles' Sur le Geometrie des Coniques Spheriques. Likewise Newton's Universal Arithmetic, Legendre's Theorie des Nombres, Gauss' Disquisitiones Arithmeticae, and Euclid's Elementa, Liber VII. Sir John Hawkins' History of Music, Stewart's Philosophy of the Human Mind, Locke's Essay, Hallam's Middle Ages, Prescott's Mexico have received some attention. I have one pupil in Latin, Greek, and mathematics, and another part of the time in mathematics. Well, when I began to enumerate I thought I had done nothing this term, but I have made out quite an array, even without mentioning passages of the Old Testament in German, and fifteen or twenty chapters of Hebrew. D u r i n g his six years in C a m b r i d g e , Hill h a d c u l t i v a t e d an interest in all b r a n c h e s of learning. W h e n he g r a d u a t e d f r o m H a r v a r d College it w a s w i t h high honors, a l t h o u g h not in t h e place he h a d previously held as first scholar. I n m a t h e m a t i c s , G r e e k , a n d p h i l o s o p h y he o b t a i n e d a first place,

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and a second in Latin, rhetoric, and political economy. The Rev. Edward Pierce of Brookline, who was returning to Cambridge for his fifty-ninth Commencement, wrote in praise of Hill's oration: " ' M a t h e m a t i c s , ' fifteen minutes long, was decidedly the most interesting exercise of the day. I t was original, discriminating, finely written, and although on so apparently dry a subject, truly eloquent. It was expected that he would have the first assignment in the class; but his attention has been divided among so many objects, that he was exceeded in recitation exercises by Sargent, whose attention has been perseveringly and uninterruptedly devoted to the attainment of first honors." Similarly, when Hill graduated from the Divinity School in 1845, the R e v . Mr. Pierce heralded his exercise, " T h e Mythical Theory of Strauss," as "decidedly the best . . . of more than two hundred dissertations" which he had heard at Harvard. " I will hazard the prediction," he added, " t h a t Hill, Fenner, and White will be introduced to the best parishes, which shall be vacant during their candidateship." A t twenty-seven Hill had defined the doctrine which he was to write and to preach for almost fifty years, that the laws of science were the laws of God. A s he himself wrote: Of all sciences the mathematical were best fitted to take a man at once from the sway of the senses and lift

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his mind to subjects of pure intellect, so that he sees the reality of things beyond sight. They unveil to him many marvels, and teach him that higher mysteries may yet be unrevealed. They offer analogies the most apposite for the illustration of religious truths. They "bring demonstration to the aid of faith," and are alone capable of doing it; for they alone can handle questions of the superlative degree. T h u s the spirit of a teacher with a sincere belief in the laws of science and of God was to serve T h o m a s Hill well as he now stepped to the threshold of his life's task.

Chapter IV WALTHAM ITH the autumn of 1845 a new panorama of life was spread before the young graduate. First he had to look for a pastorate, but before that time came the founding of a partnership. Hill had visited Walpole for a summer fortnight in 1844 and again in the following February, when Miss Anne Bellows had given her consent. Thus, as soon as classes were finished at the Divinity School, he went speedily to New Hampshire.

W

Anne Foster Bellows was the daughter of Josiah and Mary (Sparhawk) Bellows, whose families had long been prominent at Walpole and Bellows Falls. At this time she was not quite twenty-eight years old, having been born at Walpole October 25, 1817. As one of her daughters pictures her, " S h e was rather above medium height and slight (the little white satin slippers in which she was married were too small for any of her daughters to wear afterwards) and of graceful and gracious carriage. She was not pretty, but when her brother-in-law once heard her described as plain, he exclaimed, 'Anne plain! I have always thought of her as one

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of the most beautiful women of m y acquaintance!' T h a t was because of the beauty and animation of her expression. She had a quick sense of humor. She was a good listener and could draw people out and take an intelligent interest even in the rather deep and abstruse conversation of m y father with some of his scientific friends." T o her husband's work as pastor and as college president she became invaluable, supplementing his intellectual attainments with her attractive social qualities and her tact and judgment in practical affairs. Anne herself had written at the time of their engagement to Hill's favorite sister, Henrietta: Before going on with my letter I must make you laugh at me by telling you of one difficulty I find in writing to you. I do not know what to call your brother Tom. I am so much accustomed to hearing him spoken of as Mr. Hill, that I can scarcely bring myself to use the more sisterly and familiar name, which you give him. And now having confessed the trouble, I shall go on much better. He preached for us yesterday on Repentance. Perhaps you will hardly allow me to be a fair judge, but I thought the sermons were powerful, and his manner of delivering them very fine. Your sisters, Nancy and Elisa, who heard him speak at Commencement, can form some idea of his manner in preaching. He has the same ease and power, the only difference being produced by the difference of subject. I have seen and heard most of the leading preachers of our denomination and do not know of one whose manner satisfies me more entirely. It is very impressive, and at the same time uncommonly quiet and simple.

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Late in August Tom and Anne went up the Connecticut Valley to visit her sister Kate at Littleton, New Hampshire, and to tramp among the White Mountains, and Mrs. Bellows (she had married a cousin, Judge Henry A. Bellows) soon wrote of their visit: But notwithstanding I was very good to them both, having neither eyes nor ears the greater part of the time, yet I did contrive to pick up some very pleasant impressions of Mr. Hill. I think, on the whole, I never saw a man better calculated to make domestic life happy, and since I have known better what is most necessary to this end, I have esteemed as crowning graces those qualities which perhaps the world overlooks, but which alone to my eyes can make learning or talents venerable — simplicity, kindliness, frankness, warm heartedness which can take all things in its love, integrity, truth. I was particularly overcome by his manner toward the children. You see perhaps you think how he found the way to my heart, knowing that he who gains the children has found the key to the mother's affections, and rightfully. There are those who affect this interest, and perhaps by deceit gain the parents' hearts, yet the thousand spontaneous kind acts which mark the true love cannot be counterfeited. Mr. Hill would read with the greatest energy and heartiness Miss Edgeworth's stories, or invent those which would answer a present purpose, sit in the evening telling pleasant anecdotes, encourage them to right action by right motive, and take away from the dullness of a moral lesson by administering timely advice with skill. But . . . after all this man is to take Anne from us and what good thing will he ever do to compensate us? He thinks of carrying

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her off to Philadelphia, preferring to grow puny in poverty there, so that he may extend the faith, rather than live in ease in the fat churches of the East. I say do not starve for conscience sake. Little Nancybelle has had a wide berth hitherto. Although she has made up her mind to bear all things patiently yet I have always hoped she might live in ease. A n y fears of the p o v e r t y - s t r i c k e n parish in P h i l adelphia were h a p p i l y unfulfilled. I n s t e a d Hfill decided to settle not f a r f r o m C a m b r i d g e and B o s t o n . I n N o v e m b e r he w r o t e to his friend S a m u e l M a y : I wish you could have helped me in deciding the question of where to settle, but since you couldn't, won't you please, since that question is settled, help settle me? You know that in Philadelphia the work has passed out of my hands into the care of Money, and that I have here received two calls, one at Salem and one at Waltham. I had a desperate hard struggle to decide at which place to settle, and was teased to any extent by members of each parish, but have decided at length to go to Waltham. Strange choice it may appear to you as it does to most folks, but nevertheless the choice is made and I am to be settled on the 3 1 s t proximo. . . . Now you are and have for seven years been nearer to me than any of m y classmates, and if you are not too much of an abolitionist to take part in an ordination where Dewey preaches the sermon (as I hope he will for me) you wiü be as glad to give the right hand as I shall be to take it. T h a n k s g i v i n g D a y , N o v e m b e r 27, 1 8 4 5 , saw the m a r r i a g e of T h o m a s Hill and A n n e B e l l o w s at W a l pole, and b y the first of D e c e m b e r t h e y were in

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Waltham. Their beginnings were modest, for the salary of minister was his only income. His parishioners, however, were generous, and with their help he built a small house on Church Street. Its furnishings were simple, and as there were many expenses on beginning housekeeping the young minister contrived armchairs from barrels and made and upholstered couches himself. Ever thinking of his wife's pleasure, he purchased a piano even before papering the walls of the new house. Indeed, even as late as 1853 they were still white. It happened that Hill was then reading Forty Days in the Desert at the Sunday School teachers' meetings. The book had many engravings, and as they were too small to be seen at a distance and it was quite inconvenient to be handing the book around, he conceived the idea of copying them in charcoal on the parlor wall, expecting to wash them off afterwards. Soon the whole end of the parlor was ornamented with sketches, and Mrs. Hill refused to remove them until the walls were finally papered. Among the frequent visitors at Waltham was Hill's friend and teacher, Professor Peirce. As Robert Rantoul is quoted in The Early Years of the Saturday Club·.1 "The tradition obtained in my day that Peirce would, now and then, become obsessed with a new 1

Courtesy of Houghton Mifflin Co.

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conceit of some kind, and in the heat of it would become so alarmed lest the discovery should escape him before he could reduce it to writing, that he would rush to the livery-stable behind the church, hire a chaise, and m a k e all haste to W a l t h a m where the R e v e r e n d T h o m a s Hill was then settled. Peirce could not clearly describe to Hill j u s t w h a t was disturbing his mind, but Hill, w h o had no such original inspirations to trouble him, could better express in words the new proposition when at last he understood it. Hill would g r a d u a l l y fathom the mind of Peirce and, towards morning, send him home to C a m b r i d g e w i t h his problem stated on paper and his thoughts at rest." W h e t h e r or not Peirce's nocturnal excursions were actually a fact, he was indeed a frequent and welcome visitor, often coming to dinner on Sund a y s , sometimes accompanied b y a still more famous and picturesque figure w h o also delighted the Hill homestead. Louis A g a s s i z had arrived in A m e r i c a in the autumn of 1846. M a n y years later Hill recalled the beginnings of a long and close friendship: Speaking with a physician, a member of my parish, concerning Agassiz's arrival, and his proposed course of lectures before the Lowell Institute, I mentioned the fact that he could recognize any one of several thousand species of fish, on seeing a single scale. The Doctor was at first incredulous, but the moment that I had con-

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vinced him that Agassiz had that power, he eagerly asked if it were not possible to get him to give some lectures at Waltham; I went to Boston, and found the Professor alone; a man of good health, a little under forty years of age; of gentle, kindly expression, and speaking English with a slightly foreign accent and French idiom. His only hesitation was whether he could find time. He came out, however, and gave us not only the four lectures which he had promised, but, becoming interested in his audience, added a fifth without charge. He was my guest; and these five visits in the autumn of 1846 were the beginning of my acquaintance with him. He took all our hearts by storm. Never was there a man of greater personal influence over all classes of people. M y servant girl admired him as greatly as any of our family did. An old fishman, who came from week to week to my door with his cart, brought me one day a few minute scales, wrapped in a piece of paper, and asked me to see if that Professor could tell what they were. When I showed them to Agassiz he laughed and said " Y e s , the fish man would know the fish as a brooksucker." I reported his answer to the old fisherman; and he was from that moment as enthusiastic as any of us over the man who had solved what he regarded as an insoluble problem. H e came to m y house one morning by appointment, and we spent the day in a long ramble. We came home to a late dinner, loaded with insects, snakes and tortoises. The tortoises were put in a pail in the kitchen, somewhat to the terror of the bright Irish girl who had " n e v e r before seen a snuff box walk." While we were at dinner with one or two friends, the girl came in and whispered in her mistress's ear that "one of those black things had got out of the pail." Agassiz overheard and

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rushed, w i t h o u t ceremony, from the table into the kitchen. I followed and found him on his hands and knees, pushing the tin reflector from the hearth in front of the range, and rescuing his little spotted turtle from under the grate. I t m a y be that his course of lectures at W a l t h a m , and the frequent visits which he m a d e to m y house during the first f e w y e a r s , while the mother of his children was still living and they were with her [in Switzerland] and he h a d not formed new a t t a c h m e n t s in C a m b r i d g e , was the reason w h y the whole people of that town seemed to feel a peculiar interest in him. N o t only m y parish (who used to s a y jocosely t h a t their minister was richer than m o s t Christians, h a v i n g fourteen A p o s t l e s instead of t w e l v e — Peirce for his thirteenth, and A g a s s i z for his fourteenth) — b u t m e m b e r s of other parishes also seemed to feel it incumbent upon them to sustain his honor. In our little town at that time of four thousand inhabitants, we subscribed, I think, for t w e n t y - s e v e n copies of his great w o r k , " Contributions to the N a t u r a l H i s t o r y of the U n i t e d S t a t e s , " a number certainly o u t of all proportion to our population. W h e n M r . Samuel F e l t o n w a s superintendent of the F i t c h b u r g Railroad he used to take a p a r t y of friends, once or twice a year, to observe the progress in building the Cheshire, and a f t e r w a r d s the Sullivan R o a d . O n e of the most delightful of these excursions was the l a s t , when the line of rail had been extended up the v a l l e y of the A m m o n o o s u c as far as L i t t l e t o n , N e w H a m p s h i r e . T h e p a r t y included his t w o brothers, M r . Cornelius C o n w a y Felton, afterwards President of H a r v a r d College, and M r . John B . F e l t o n ; Professor A r n o l d G u y o t ; Professor Peirce; A g a s s i z ; his son, A l e x a n d e r A g a s s i z , then a b o y j u s t arrived from E u r o p e , and not k n o w i n g a word of E n g l i s h ; and myself.

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We started on this expedition in an accommodation train which had picked up one man at Charlestown, two or three others at Cambridge, and myself at Waltham. But at the end of the first twenty five miles, all got out at South Acton and waited for an express train. While thus waiting, we all utilized the time in hunting for specimens of animal life, for Agassiz. His son Alexander had a gauze net at the end of a pole with which to catch butterflies. Agassiz seeing a fine specimen on the wing called to the boy to come and catch it. "Alexe! Vite! Beau Papillon !" A few moments after Mr. Samuel Felton turned over a log on the ground, and seeing a fine black beetle under it, repeated the cry, "Alexe! Vite! Beau Papillon!" The boy ran up and seeing that his fine butterfly was a black beetle, burst into such a merry laugh that none of us, not even Mr. Felton himself, could resist joining, and "Beau Papillon" became the watch-word of our party. From Littleton we took stage for Franconia Notch. There was but one other passenger in the coach, an exceedingly solemn-looking man, and very silent. H e was apparently shocked by the levity and gayety of our party, who, although on science bent, all had a cheerful mind. When we came to the foot of a long hill, we all got out and walked, except Professor Cornelius Felton, who remained on the seat with the driver. As we were turning over stones and sticks for hidden reptiles or insects, looking on the under side of leaves to discover butterflies or snails, rapping the bushes to start little moths, and occasionally shouting one to another "Beau Papillon," the driver asked Professor Felton who these men were that were with him. H e replied, " T h e y are a set of naturalists from an institution near Boston." Our zoological pursuits retarded our movements up the hill so much that the coach had got far ahead of us,

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and our van was led by the solemn man, who had not taken any part in our performances. As we drew near the top of the hill, however, a remarkably beautiful butterfly went up in front of him. The flush of his boyhood seemed instantly to return. He took off his hat, and made a sweep for it; and as the butterfly easily eluded him, he made a second and a third, growing more and more eager till, at length, as the butterfly rose and soared over a high clump of bushes, our solemn man leaped into the air, made his last frantic swoop and screamed at the top of his voice, "Beau Papillon!" At that moment the stage in the opposite direction met ours at the top of the hill. The drivers paused a moment to exchange salutations, and the other said to ours, "Why! You've a strange freight down there. Who are they?" Our driver, leaning toward him, said in a confidential whisper, "They are a set of naturals from that insane asylum near Boston. Their keeper just told me so." Such were Hill's two apostles who joined with him in finding, revealed in the unvarying laws of science, the laws of God. With the spirit of a teacher, Hill continued the work he had already begun in the Elementary 'Treatise on Arithmetic. For fourteen years he was a member of the Waltham School Board, for most of that time its chairman. It was at this time that he became interested in shorthand, and in the Phonographic Magazine, shortly before his death, appeared an account of his work at Waltham: " H e threw himself into that work with great zeal; his ideas seemed revolutionary, but he brought

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the town finally into his way of thinking, and competent judges say the schools of Waltham from 1855 to 1862 were very far superior, judged by their results, to any other schools in New England. The peculiar steps to produce this result may be summed up in saying that mental arithmetic was not touched b y children under twelve; and that written arithmetic up to twelve was confined to the four fundamental operations, on whole numbers and decimals. Vulgar fractions were not touched until there was perfect facility in handling decimals. T h e time allowed for arithmetic was reduced fifty per cent; spelling was also banished, and the time thus saved on these two studies was used partly in longer recesses, partly in more reading, but chiefly in drawing and other geometrical exercises. " I n 1852 Mr. Thomas J. Ranney called the attention of the school committee in Waltham to phonotypy and Phonography. Phonetic print was immediately introduced into all the primary schools; and, very soon after, Phonography was a regular branch in the high school. Dr. Hill opened an evening school that same winter for adults, and taught them to read by phonetic type. He lectured and wrote for periodicals upon its superiority as a means of teaching to read, and demonstrated by repeated experiments that the use of phonotypy for learning to read made the pupil far less likely to misspell according to common print."

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With parental care Hill watched the use of his methods of teaching. He found, when his own children came to school age, that there was no suitable text in geometry, and consequently published in 1855 a little volume entitled First lessons in Geometry, which for a time was widely used. Similarly he made many changes as a result of comparative tests made upon different schools. Likewise he insisted on making things real to the pupils. Once he found a teacher trying to demonstrate, with a large globe and an orange, how the world kept turning in its orbit, with the resulting phenomena of night and day. Hill took the globe and went over to where the sun was streaming in the window, and there demonstrated the problem so that every pupil could not fail to understand. In these observations on teaching methods there was a scientific spirit uncommon in the educational practice of his day. Among other things which he noticed at the ledges near the Pond End School was that succeeding ages of little girls played house in the same spot, and that through the years the "parlor," the "kitchen," and other imaginary rooms were always in the same relative location. To test a growing theory he at once hitched up and drove to fetch an old, old woman and found that she, too, pointed out the rooms in the self-same order.

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Some of the older pupils, especially the boys, not knowing the kindness that was always in his heart, were a little scared of this committee chairman who was inclined to startle them with questions not in the book. Y e t he sometimes afforded them amusement. Once he appeared in a classroom somewhat dusty with ashes, remarking in explanation: " T h a t fire downstairs needed fixing and the janitor being busy, I did it myself." H e seemed to have a natural humility which many would have called Christian nobleness. Besides his ministerial work and his interest in education, Hill had many duties thrust upon him, yet he found considerable time for writing. In 1849 he published a thin volume, Geometry and Faith. In this, and in its later enlargements and revisions, lies the essence of Hill's doctrine, the same belief which he had expressed while in college, that the law of science " m u s t be produced by some law established by our Father's wisdom." In mathematics and astronomy he contributed a number of papers to the American Association for the Advancement of Science, of which he was a member, and in 1857 he was engaged to write the articles on astronomy for the new Apple ton s Encyclopedia. H e also found time to invent a machine for adding and subtracting, which he called the " r e a d y reckoner," and an electrotyping process. " H e seems all the time hurried," wrote his sister; yet in

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fact the greater part of his time was spent in purely ministerial duties at Waltham and in other parishes. After his college experience Hill always feared that if he should give his scientific interests free rein they would absorb all his time to the neglect of his parish work. So he decided on Monday as a day of recreation, as he was then tired from his Sunday's preaching, and could allow himself the pleasure of devoting a day to mathematics, but even then he made it a rule not to go into any too original investigations for fear they should prove too absorbing. This became such a habit with him, and he enjoyed his Mondays so much, that he used to say afterwards that often, as he was going to bed on Sunday night, delightful and fascinating problems would flash through his mind to investigate the next day. His time was so taken with preaching, writing, and mathematics that he rarely read a novel. In fact he avoided them, for when he did get hold of one, he would become just as absorbed as he did in mathematics. One day at the dinner table someone referred to the Pickwick Papers, and Peter Magnus' way of amusing his friends by signing himself "Afternoon." Not being familiar with the book, Hill had it brought to him, and the place pointed out. One by one the family left the table, which was cleared off. He continued to read on and on, and there he sat, until he was completely sur-

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prised by the girl coming in to set the table for tea four hours later. One son and four daughters were born to gladden this home in Waltham. Hill's sister Henrietta, and later his nephew, Frank Hill, also lived there for a time. Then, too, the minister and his family were blessed with neighbors, some of whom, as " A u n t " Ann Adams and Miss Elizabeth Joy, became almost as members of the same family. Fred Knapp, then in charge of the First Parish in Brookline, was a constant visitor, and Frank Hill and Professor Agassiz were also Hill's companions on rambles from which he would bring back roots to plant in a garden which was always a source of pleasure and joy. As he had for those at Lincoln a decade before, Hill began to make toys and playthings for his own children. It was indeed one of the greatest pleasures throughout his whole life, and a favorite story is told of a Christmas morning while Dr. Hill was President of Harvard. Just after the presents had been distributed Louis Agassiz came to call. Hill had made some amusing-looking animals out of potatoes which had a knob at the end, sticking in pieces of wood for the legs, tail, and horns, and pinning on them flaming eyes and a fiery tongue. It was soon after the great megatherium had been put up in the Museum, and immediately the children demanded Agassiz's zoological opinion. So looking one of the animals over carefully as if to

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identify it, he concluded with extreme seriousness: " T h a t , my dears, is a potatotherium." A t thirty-seven Thomas Hill was well known throughout the East as a liberal Unitarian who had a vital interest in education. In 1853 he had advanced his theory of learning before the Harvard Natural History Society. T w o years later when the Rev. Rufus P. Stebbins resigned from the presidency of the Theological School at Meadville, Pennsylvania, Hill was approached as a possible successor. For eight years Meadville had been the scene of a sectarian controversy between the Unitarians and the "Christians," 1 or Christian Connexion, as they were often called. Their union had been founded upon a mutual desire for freedom from traditional creeds, a dislike for the temper of sectarianism in the i83o's, and an aim for a life according to the teachings of the N e w Testament; but their radicalism led to their own sectarianism, and finally the Christian Connexion withdrew from Meadville. T h e presidency was offered by the Unitarians to Hill in April, 1855, at a salary of $2,000. A t Waltham he received only $> 1,500, one third of which was contributed by wealthy parishioners; nevertheless he refused the offer. While he must have known the circumstances of the school from his old teacher and from his constant reading of the Unitarian press, he seems to have been in1

Prounced " Chri-stians."

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fluenced primarily by his attachment to Waltham and by the friendships dear to himself and to his family. It might therefore seem all the more inexplicable why, four years later, he should have accepted the presidency of Antioch College. He had been interested in Antioch's possibilities from the start, yet it had been torn between Unitarian and Christian just as Meadville had been and its troubles had sent its first president, Horace Mann, to his grave. Perhaps because of the recent reorganization of the college by President Mann and the Unitarians its prospects seemed brighter. Certainly Hill was urged strongly to go, and when he finally accepted the offer it was as an opportunity in education and in Christian service. For a number of years Hill had observed and talked and written in aid of fundamental ideas in teaching. In the Waltham schools he had carried out practical experiments and reforms. His First Lessons in Geometry and his Geometry and Faith were more than isolated texts; they were part and parcel of his growing educational theory. In the Phi Beta Kappa oration at Harvard in 1858, entitled "Liberal Education," he had shown the relations of the physical and social sciences in a natural order of education and in 1859 had begun to expand this theory in a series of articles, " T h e True Order of Studies."

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On August 1 2 , 1859, barely two weeks after Horace M a n n ' s death, D r . Henry W . Bellows, Hill's cousin by marriage, came to Waltham. H e was a trustee of Antioch, an ardent champion of its ideals, and one who was known to inspire its friends. In the talks of those few days he found Hill willing to listen, although modestly doubtful of his ability to make the college a success, and later definitely alarmed about its finances. On August 1 4 he wrote to D r . Bellows at Walpole: Now that the stir and contagion of your visit has a little subsided I feel one or two things standing out prominent on the horizon of my thought to which I wish to call your attention. . . . There is a point which I did not think of at first, but which assumes a greater magnitude in my eyes the longer I think about the whole matter, — it is the pecuniary state of affairs. You say that $5000 per annum is secured by the notes of good substantial men, to be paid semiannually. But the remainder is dependent on the number of students, and must fluctuate from various causes, and be partly dependent on the popularity of the new President. A man without children, of financial ability to scheme thro', and of a heroic confidence in himself and in the future, might do well in administering a College whose income was thus uncertain. But I feel that it would completely paralyze me, and utterly distract my mind from the great scientific and literary interests of the College, if I felt any uncertainty about the pay either of myself or of my assistants. It would not do for me to find that when quarterday came any of

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the teachers were obliged to put up with apologies and regrets instead of money. I feel that this responsibility of keeping up the popularity of the College, and thus keeping all the teachers in bread and butter, is too great for me, I can't undertake it. I do not and cannot feel that chivalrous devotion to the College which is necessary to make me run any risk about my own income, or incur any responsibility about that of other teachers. I t appears to me that I could not work at all if I did not have a strong confidence that the salaries of the teachers were sure to be paid punctually and in full, whatever the success or popularity of my movements. This may be cautious and cowardly in me, — but nevertheless it's me; partly by nature, and more especially by the fact of my having five children whose interests I look to as a special trust from Heaven committed to my particular care. Whether there is any possibility of removing this objection of mine by procuring the guarantee of rich and honorable men to make up the deficits for three years, if any deficit occur; — or whether it is worth while to remove any objections of mine, — that is, whether it will be better to seek some other candidate, you must decide.

Four days later he wrote Fred Knapp, who was also at Walpole, asking him to show the letter to Dr. Bellows. I suppose that Henry told you of our talks together about Antioch. Since his departure to Walpole I have had some good long talks with Dr. Gannett and Dr. Walker [the Rev. Ezra Stiles Gannett, pastor of the Arlington Street Church, and the Rev. James Walker, President of Harvard]. I am astonished at the unanim-

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ity with which all say that I am the man for Antioch. I cannot feel so. I cannot but feel some uncertainty about my executive and administrative ability, — my ability to carry out the ideas which I know are good and sound. Still I would not hesitate to try and to do my very best in all respects, if all things else were favorable. In saying this I would not attempt to conceal that it is very painful and inconvenient in all respects for me to tear myself out of this place to go a thousand miles westward, and I most sincerely wish that the Christians at Antioch would utterly refuse to have a Unitarian Minister as President. However I dare not hope it, I am afraid that they will formally appoint me and then I suppose I must go. When once I feel that there is no escape, I have no doubt that courage and zeal will arise in my heart. But if the Christians there want me they must send for me. As for going to the Miami Conference before I am appointed President, I simply say that I won't. I am sure it would be bad policy in every way. If I go to Antioch at all it will not be before the formal election. Again if the Trustees want me to go to Antioch they must take me as I am, encumbered with the promise to write and deliver a course of twelve lectures next winter in Boston. I cannot afford it, (in any sense of the word afford) to omit or postpone them and I must have time to write them. H e r e , a p p a r e n t l y , he s t o p p e d — for t h e next sentence is widely spaced; set d o w n , as it were, with determination. Finally, my dear Fred, I really don't think I can go to Antioch at all. The fatal point of view in the case is the money view. I have no property, and I have five

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small children. I do not feel it right for me to jeopard their comfort and well being and I can't do it. T h e unmarried man m a y serve the Lord in any w a y , but the married man is to serve H i m b y serving his children. T h e professors and teachers at Antioch are also mortal and m u s t have bread. T h e average receipts for three years past have been $8,000, the expenses $13,000. T h e deficit of $5,000 is to be m a d e up b y the notes of certain gentlemen, donations to the college, falling due every six months. A b o u t two thirds the receipts of the College are therefore contingent o n the number of students, every 30 students, it appears, netting to the college the income of about $1,000. O f course if the President should at first contrast unfavorably with M r . M a n n , and be a little less popular, — or if there should be a failure in the crops a year or two, or if the number of men advanced in years who come to college should diminish and leave the ranks to be supplied only by younger men — or if the standard of scholarship should be raised a little too suddenly and exclude too many applicants for admission, — or if a n y other of a score of causes should operate to cause a diminution in the number of students even for a single year, the fluctuation would be felt in our salaries, and it would worry and distract me to have it so. E v e n if m y own salary were fixed to be paid out of the subscribed fund, and so made sure, I think it would be a terrible hindrance to m y freedom and efficiency of action to see m y confreres suffer. I cannot feel willing to undertake this pecuniary responsibility through thick and thin. I admire the heroism of those who like M r . M a n n sacrifice all personal considerations and sink their priv a t e fortunes in sustaining the work they have undert a k e n ; but I have not the heroism myself, and cannot

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feel it my duty to undertake a work for which I am not fitted. The literary and scientific interests of the College, its moral and religious interests, I should devote myself to, with great zeal, and I trust with sound discretion, — but I could not do it unless I was as sure that m y own and my teachers salaries would be paid punctually and in full every three or six months as I am about the pay of the public school teachers in Waltham, — I certainly could not do it while I felt that not only my own bread and butter, but that of all the teachers under me, was dependent, not on the wisdom, but on the popularity of my measures, on how many scholars I brought in. I cannot possibly get up in myself the confidence in my own popularity and success which would make me feel sure of the receipts from room rent and tuition remaining £8,000 and therefore I cannot consent to go. Now if it were possible to have a guaranty that the income shall be actually not less than $ 13,000 or some other fixed sum per annum for three or five years, that would change the matter. But I do not suppose that I shall be left in my own happy and quiet sphere of life in Waltham. The thought of leaving is very painful, not only because of the painfulness of tearing away from Massachusetts, the State of my adoption and where I have lived the largest and by far the best half of my life, —• but because continual illness has partly broken my spirits and made me less hopeful of the future, less buoyant and elastic than formerly, — (even making me feel sometimes disposed to retreat to farming and to forswear all intellectual pursuits whatever, instead of going into new and untried responsibilities.) Still I know also that there is enough stamina left in

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me to make me do well at Antioch, if there was a certain income there. I don't want to go, but if I ought and must, then I suppose I can. One of the Ohio trustees had suggested Dr. Stebbins for the post, but Dr. Bellows insisted that Hill was the man for the place. On the twentieth he wrote, " I am convinced you ought to go, and that you will go, 'spite of what you say, which is just and right." Hill again insisted that the deficit must be underwritten, and at the beginning of September Dr. Bellows went to Antioch to propose his candidate. There was rather an excited suspense in Waltham when Mr. and Mrs. Hill went to Philadelphia, twelve hours nearer Ohio, there to await a telegram which should tell them to come on to Yellow Springs. On the morning of September 7, 18 59, Thomas Hill was elected President of Antioch College. T h e following evening, from notes written on the train, he delivered his inaugural address, "Integral Education." T h e news of his election saddened the good people of Waltham. A s his sister wrote a few days later, Tom's people feel very badly about his leaving them. Many of them cannot speak of it without tears. It is not only his flock who regret his going; many of his townsmen lament it. Yesterday the Catholic priest in his church told his hearers they were going to lose a "good friend," and a "Christian man," and after speak-

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ing of things this Christian had done, he said, "If any of you don't know who I mean, I tell you it is the Reverend Mr. Hill." The temporary peace in Antioch's struggles for life, the pledging of additional money to satisfy his insistence on security, and the welcome accorded on all sides seemed to quiet all Hill's doubts. For a fortnight, until he had to begin thinking of the Lowell Lectures, he conferred with the teachers and heard recitations. " I like them," he wrote on his return to Waltham, " a n d I like all things at Antioch. . . . I feel as though I had entered on a glorious field of labor. Heaven grant I m a y improve it well, and show myself a workman that needeth not be ashamed."

Chapter V PRESIDENT OF ANTIOCH IN the last few years, so in its earliest years Antioch College denoted a radical step in educational practice. Its first President, Horace Mann, "the prince of New England educators," had gone there inspired by the mission of an unsectarian institution to teach liberal Christianity in the West, and also by the plan which offered equal opportunities in coeducation. Thus the missionary enterprises of both liberal Christianity and coeducation had given Antioch a character apart from all other colleges. Not only was one curriculum offered to men and women alike, with preparatory and music departments supplementing the college, but neither religion nor color were bars to admission. Good moral character was an indispensable condition. There was no hazing. Its students aided, rather than opposed, the college authorities. The ideal which twenty years before young Tom Hill had held for Harvard and which Harvard had not fulfilled, Antioch seemed to have attained in reality.

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M u c h of this freedom from time-honored practices w a s due to H o r a c e M a n n , whose " C o d e

of

C o n d u c t , " a d d r e s s e d t o t h e s t u d e n t b o d y , h a d bec o m e A n t i o c h ' s g o l d e n rule. H i l l w r o t e t o B e l l o w s in A u g u s t , 1859, w h i l e still d o u b t f u l a b o u t g o i n g : I have been reading, thinking, and inquiring, concerning Antioch and the practical working of things there, and I am growing every hour stronger in the faith that Horace M a n n has already embodied there more of m y own . . . ideas of Education than are embodied anywhere else in Christendom. I endorse cordially the main ideas of his government, as I can learn, and I even (shudder as you read) find in his code of honor nothing that I did not always maintain when a member of Leicester A c a d e m y and H a r v a r d College. Remember I pray you, on that subject, that manner and motive are the essence of every deed. W h e n , at Hill's inaugural, D r . Bellows remarked t h a t in s t u d e n t a n d f a c u l t y r e l a t i o n s t h e r e w e r e s o m e p e c u l i a r n o t i o n s o f his p r e d e c e s s o r w i t h reg a r d t o c o l l e g e m a n a g e m e n t w i t h w h i c h he d o u b t less w o u l d h a v e no s y m p a t h y , t h e r e p l y c a m e v e r y p r o m p t l y : no educational opinions of M r .

Mann

c o m m e n d e d t h e m s e l v e s m o r e c o m p l e t e l y t h a n did these. P r e s i d e n t M a n n ' s m i s s i o n a r y z e a l for f r e e d o m of t h o u g h t h a d u n f o r t u n a t e l y increased the inevitable suspicion between Christian and Unitarian, e v e n t h o u g h h e h a d b e c o m e a m e m b e r of t h e C h r i s t i a n C o n f e r e n c e in a n e f f o r t t o a v o i d

sectarian

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jealousies. In addition his earnest feeling that worthy colored students should be admitted was, as he well knew, an obstacle in the way of the immediate success of Antioch, yet he defied the president of the trustees, a " C h r i s t i a n " and a Congressman, rather than do less than justice to the Negro. At another time when the college was in extreme need, rather than exclude a bright and good colored boy he refused a gift of $5,000 offered to the college on that condition. The deciding factor which opened the breach was the matter of money. It aligned the local Christian forces, who wished to see Antioch fail so that the Unitarians would withdraw, against both the Unitarians and the more liberal Christians, who together saw that the only hope of saving the college was to pay its debts. In establishing Antioch, the ideals of the Christian Connexion had been almost too lofty to insure their fulfillment. After the Civil War, in his last effort to rehabilitate the college, Dr. Bellows reviewed its history under the Christians: " T h e y determined to establish a college that should outstrip from the start anything in the western country, if not in the whole United States. They resolved not only that education should be thorough and high, but of superhuman cheapness. Six dollars a year, — the interest on a hundred dollar scholarship, — was to entitle every stock-

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holder in that amount, to send his children, of both sexes, one after another, in endless succession, to this great fountain of learning! Buildings of an expensive character were begun and finished. A n enormous main building, with chapel, library, lecture-rooms; two halls accommodating perhaps a couple of hundred students each, with a commons hall and kitchen in one of them; a fine President's house, all thoroughly and economically built, substantial and permanent, well enough planned, and not unshapely, situated in a commanding plot of forty acres, admitting of shade trees and walks, to be found mainly in the pictures of the college, — these attest the enterprise, zeal, and faith of the original projectors of this institution." T o rid Antioch of the scholarship system required an entire change of charter. T h e financial intricacies of buying up the college for its debts and erecting a new corporation, together with the attacks of the opposition both on the Unitarians and on him personally, took President Mann's entire energy and strength. A month after the reorganization was effected, the struggle killed him. Everything seemed more hopeful when Hill became President of the college in September, 1859. T o be sure, every cent which the Christian farmers had invested in scholarships had been lost to them. Nevertheless both M a n n and Bellows had insisted that the Unitarians should remain a minority on

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the new board of trustees. Both financial and sectarian differences seemed to be healed, and the prospects bright. In January, i860, the Hill family moved to Antioch, leaving their Waltham neighbors and friends only with the greatest regret. Even at first sight, Hill saw that the President's house would "need a good deal done to it to make it look as we shall like to have it." Frank Hill had come with them, and soon was busy wedging up the piazza, mending the pump, getting the stove to rights, and making the place livable. President Hill spent the first few weeks hearing recitations, — one in philosophy and another in political economy, — attending faculty and committee meetings, consulting with the matrons and with the teachers of the preparatory department, and hearing and granting petitions from the students. The " lucid intervals of his distractions" he spent helping Mrs. Hill and Frank tack down carpets and prescribe for the children, who were all down with illnesses resulting from the long trip, the change in drinking water, and the chill of an inadequately planned and heated house. Nor was the condition of the college much better. Ever since President Mann's final illness it had been without a leader, and perhaps even before that its spirit had begun to weaken, for in giving almost his entire time to the weaving together of its financial threads in order to save the college, he

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had gradually and inevitably lost touch with his students. Meanwhile, in the fall of 1859, the steward of the college, being also its agent, had neglected the buildings in the effort to bring in money and students. Panes were broken, doors unhinged, and locks broken off, empty rooms misused and the grounds neglected. Within the first week of President Hill's regime two students were dismissed for drunkenness and another suspended. Having thus dealt with the most patent disorder, he saw that confidence had to be immediately restored by bringing again to the student body a Christian spirit of helpfulness and example. Accordingly he himself set to work to improve not only the discipline but also the outward appearance of the college. A s the weather became warmer he turned with spade and rake to the college grounds, then little better than a pasture. During the summer vacation some of the students stayed to help mow the weeds, repair the walks, and plant shrubs. T h e improvement was noticed even at the next Commencement, when former students spoke of it, and continued with each succeeding year. In the spring of 1862, when war threatened to close the college, Hill wrote back to Waltham, " I have been at work planting shrubs, etc. Antioch ground shall bear m y mark for m a n y a long year (unless pigs and cows are allowed to run in next y e a r ) . "

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Soon after President Hill took the reins, Frank Hill was made sub-treasurer and steward of the college. Under his eye the buildings were repaired, funds administered, and irresponsible student watchmen displaced. T h e improvements which were made had to be accomplished almost entirely without funds. T h e trustees adopted plans for paths and roads but provided no money. Hill used the hundred dollars or so available as best he could, writing apologetically yet with justification, " M u d is tremendous here in winter, and I felt that I must make the paths drier next winter. So I have spent the money partly on existing paths even where not consonant with your plan." Some months earlier he had written: F r a n k assumes office on T u e s d a y . W o u l d that N i c k L o n g w o r t h [Cincinnati's multi-millionaire] would g i v e him a few t h o u s a n d , or even hundreds, to w o r k w i t h . I g o to C i n c i n n a t i a week from S u n d a y and intend to reconnoitre the ground, and find out if I can how to bleed some of the people there.

Again money became Antioch's paramount question, although this time without the spectre of debts which had faced its first president. In order to make ends meet, President Hill preached each Sunday at the Church of the Redeemer in Cincinnati, but because of his faith in Antioch he would not consent to undertake a regular pastorate, even though he felt it was a golden opportunity for some-

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one to bring to full flower. Instead he looked upon that parish, when under a permanent minister, as a future help to Antioch by interesting those who might send their children or their money. In J u l y , i860, he lectured and preached through Missouri and Illinois to attract dollars and students, and the following month, when H a r v a r d honored him with the degree of Doctor of Sacred Theology, he sought further aid in the E a s t . T h e next term saw Antioch in somewhat better condition, and in November Hill wrote to D r . Bellows: All goes smoothly, except finances. There has been no serious misdemeanor, so far, this term. Everybody treats me kindly this year, and I am as happy as the day is long, except when I think of money. Some of my Eastern friends have given me a few dollars which I have expended with very great effect on the grounds. I have moved a good many trees, dug around others, trimmed smoothed and gravelled walks and roads, planted quantities of shrubs, vines, etc., etc. and altogether made the appearance of things more respectable. Then Frank Hill has mended all the broken glass (five hundred panes were out and had been for a long time), built a piazza at the east end of North Hall, mended the cellar doors etc. of Antioch Hall and stored the wood in the cellar, repaired the settees etc. in the recitation rooms, and in short "slicked u p " and repaired all internals as I have externals. Everything prospers except finances. And why not finances, do you ask? Firstly, because the number of students is not quite so great, making our income 300 dollars less than in the corresponding term last year.

ΙΟΟ

THOMAS

HILL

Secondly, because neither the first nor second deficiency funds are paid promptly as they should be. Three of the trustees have not yet paid their non-attendance fines. T w o of the sixteen guarantee men (Second Deficiency Fund) have not yet paid their assessments of $325 each. Then the deficiency fund due on the 20th ultimo, and on which we depend for 700 or 800 dollars of last year's income stands thus Due October 20 Reed H. W. B. (God bless him) Kellogg Three Prof, deduction from salary Eli Fáy in part Leaving over due

?Joo 25 600 175 1300

2500

1200

N o w , of this that has been received, you see that only $700 is cash. Of that seven hundred, five hundred were at once absorbed in the payment of a loan which M r . Carter had generously made and then there were only two hundred towards paying the salaries due in J u n e last. T h a t I am still lacking $375 of m y salary for last year due J u l y 1 , and have been able to get only $ΐζο of this year's salary leaving, you perceive, an arrearage of $2ξο more due me since October 1 , which considering the unusual expenses I have had in repairing and improving the house at my own expense pinches me considerably. Artemas Carter lent us three hundred last February which we had until the April deficiency was paid in, somewhere in M a y , and five hundred in J u l y to p a y salaries and to make certain necessary repairs, and this has been refunded only by the receipt of your check in October. F o r this he has charged the College no interest

PRESIDENT

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ΙΟΙ

although he had been forced to pay ten per cent for most of it. /Now he has again lent us a little for the most pressing necessities, and I have been obliged to borrow in Cincinnati two hundred dollars to meet my household expenses, on which I am paying six per cent. The friend from whom I borrowed wants it back again, but I do not see where it is to come from. None of the backwardness is on the Unitarian side of the house. The Christians are slow to pay, but prompt to ask privileges and demand rights. I wish we might have a good solid foundation, and a modification of the charter so that there should be no test of a denominational character requisite to elect — trustees. Well, I sat down to put you on your guard against too strong a recommendation [of a former student] and I have given you eight pages of dolorous cries concerning the Christian's backwardness in "forking u p . " ^

N e v e r t h e l e s s P r e s i d e n t Hill w e n t f o r w a r d w i t h a plan to secure the f o u n d a t i o n of an e n d o w m e n t and to m a k e the college g o v e r n m e n t non-sectarian, the t w o indispensable requirements f o r its success. A t the s a m e time he h a d almost no s a l a r y for himself. E a r l y in J a n u a r y , 1 8 6 1 , he w r o t e to D r . Bellows : I am strongly tempted to meet you and Mr. F a y on the sixteenth in Boston, for with this defalcation of twelve or thirteen hundred dollars of income which we ought to have had in October, we are very hard up, and I do not know but I must borrow money on my own credit, to live on till June. The College owes me this very minute about $ 1,009, a n d will not be able as far as I can see, to do anything else than increase their in-

I02

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debtedness to me more and more, the longer I stay. N o w m y whole worldly fortune is very small, it would not carry on the College six months, and if we cannot get a permanent substitute for these first deficiency notes this summer, w h y then, I must leave this summer.

About a proposal to change the charter to provide non-sectarianism he continued: I have j u s t this instant received a letter from Artemas Carter. He is satisfied with twelve Christians, and eight Unitarians, and thinks that any man who would give money at all would give it with the present charter. I don't. I should myself prefer to have the number of any one sect limited to eight, to propose this would show that we do not wish to increase our strength but that the movement is bonafide unsectarian. W i t h eight Unitarians, eight Christians, and four Methodists or Presbyterians, we should be quite sure of having perpetually an unsectarian and really liberal university. W i t h these amendments in our charter I think we could raise endowments, (provided the political troubles do not lead to a long and bloody war between N o r t h and South, which I trust m a y be averted) to some extent out of Western men. W h a t I first want is to be sure that I can beg with a good assurance that the charter etc., is right, — then I want to go to one or two men that I have in m y eye and plead with them to give us $100,000 to set us on a permanent footing. When that is done, and the College is a sure and permanent institution, really not denominational, I can, I think, get Cincinnati men to give us endowments for single professorships, or gifts for apparatus, etc.

PRESIDENT

On February

OF A N T I O C H

I03

19, 1 8 6 1 , P r e s i d e n t H i l l s e n t

a

p r i n t e d c i r c u l a r l e t t e r t o e a c h o f t h e t r u s t e e s , recounting the state of finances.

Besides noting that

the f a c u l t y had already subscribed out of their salaries t o w a r d t h e d e f i c i e n c y f u n d s , h e s t a t e d f u r ther: This [money unpaid] all falls upon the salaries of the President and Professors, for we, of course, have too much pride in the credit of our Institution to allow bills for repairs, or the wages of subordinate persons, teachers, or others, to go unpaid. It is evident, therefore, that there is urgent need of some relief this Spring. A n d even were all the notes of the first deficiency fund met at m a t u r i t y , it would not be wise for us to close this collegiate year without making provision for the maintenance of the Institution beyond April, 1862, when all these notes expire. T h e College is unquestionably worth sustaining. T h a t the Institution is needed, is proved b y the presence here, this term beginning Dec. 12, in the very midst of the commercial panic, of 266 students, belonging to seven different religious denominations, and coming from nineteen States of the Union and from Canada, some of them of marked talent, and many of them having abilities and a moral character which amply repay the labors of a teacher. T h e Institution is worth sustaining, if for no other reason, for this: that it has persistently sought to attain the highest position among the Colleges of the West, and persistence in this attempt, with whatever success, must stimulate other Institutions to a generous rivalry in improving the character of the education which they bestow.

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I t is worth sustaining for the sake of retaining the acquisitions made by so many sacrifices in the past. These durable buildings, these spacious grounds, held by us free of incumbrance, this good reputation won in the midst of nine years hard labor, struggling with foes within and without; these things, and that memory which hallows one green circle on the College lawn [the first burial-place of President Mann] to so many hearts, are of permanent and inestimable value to Antioch College, if she goes on in an upward course, but will only be a burden and a shame to her if she descends from her high position. I cannot, therefore, but feel exceedingly reluctant to leave the post which the Board of Trustees have assigned me, knowing that to leave at such a time and for such a cause, would seriously injure the Institution. Yet it is impossible for me to remain unless some very decided and effectual improvement is made in the condition of affairs. The day for temporary expedients has passed. The former Corporation was nursed by such attendants, and died of bankruptcy. Our Corporation began its existence on a three years' lease of life, and now threatens something very like death on reaching the age of two years and two months. To give it permanent life we must make a permanent provision for its support. We must have an endowment fund, safely invested, and large enough even with safe investment to pay the salaries of the College Professors. The Preparatory Department can sustain itself, but the income from the College students is not more than sufficient to meet incidental expenses. As it increases it will be needed for the payment of tutors and the increase of books and illustrative apparatus.

PRESIDENT OF ΑΝΤΙ O CH

I05

But to whom shall we look for an endowment fund? The College has hitherto been sustained almost exclusively by Christians and Unitarians, except so far as tuition and room rent have been paid by students of other denominations. But the Christians are, as you know, not rich in this world's goods, and although in the day of their union upon Antioch they raised large sums of money, we cannot expect them now, when they are giving so much of their strength to the new College at Merom [Indiana] to aid us materially in raising the funds we need. The Unitarian denomination is able to furnish us all that we require. They cannot, however, reasonably be expected to do so. In the first place, the Unitarians of Cincinnati, who, from their geographical position, would be expected to lead in the movement, are not, from the state of their church affairs, able to do so. In the second place, the Unitarian denomination is, if a life-long connection with them enables me to judge, exceedingly jealous of a sectarian or proselyting spirit. They are backward in helping anything which bears the name of a sect, even if it be their own. They will not be likely to give us much aid so long as our Charter requires the Trustees to belong to certain denominations. I do not think they would be any more likely to give, if our Charter required twelve Trustees to be Unitarian and eight Christian. The objection is, that a sectarian or partisan test is required at all; that we declare by our Charter that the Trustees must belong to two specified denominations, and even then fix their proportion, as though we were jealous of each other, each afraid the other might attain the mastery. And I will confess, my dear sir, that I share in the unsectarian spirit of my denomination. I regret that our free and liberal Institution was organized under a charter which contains pro-

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visions so sectarian that we cannot reasonably ask liberal men of other denominations to help us. In June next the laws of the State of Ohio require us to elect two new Trustees from Greene county. The resignation of several Trustees renders it probable that other elections will also then be held. According to our Charter these elections must be made from the two denominations, Christian and Unitarian, even although a person, say of the Friends or the Methodists, well qualified by intrinsic fitness for the office, by moral integrity, by unsullied reputation, by dignity of character, by literary attainments, by familiarity with the details of education, by financial or by executive ability, should live on the spot, and no other such man could be found in the limits of the county. I cannot feel satisfied with our Charter while it thus rigidly excludes us from choosing such men as may be best fitted for their posts, and forces us to choose them on the ground of denominational character. I propose, therefore, the following amendment to the Charter, viz: To alter Article I I I (which provides for a Board of twelve Christians and eight Unitarians) in such wise as to make it read as follows : " A R T I C L E I I I . All of the rights and powers of the Corporation hereby formed, and the entire control and management of its College and property and affairs, shall be vested in, and exercised by a Board of Trustees composed of twenty persons, not more than nine of whom shall ever belong to any one religious denomination. But no sectarian or partisan test shall ever be applied in any of the affairs of the Corporation, or of its College, for any other purpose than the enforcement of this Article; and no sectarian or partisan instruction shall ever be allowed in the Institution. Nor shall this

PRESIDENT

OF A N T I O C H

IO7

Article ever be repealed, nor amended in such manner as at all to impair its efficacy, and this shall be the fundamental condition on which all future gifts or endowments are to be received; the violation of which shall work a forfeiture of said gifts or endowments. This Article shall, however, never be interpreted to forbid the teaching of the Christian religion and the vindication of its a u t h o r i t y . " This amendment involves the necessity of reducing the Christian representation on the Board by only three members, and does not necessarily require us to introduce more than three from other denominations. It simply takes away the prohibitions on our liberality imposed by the present Charter. B u t to carry this amendment requires the unanimous concurrence of the Trustees. Will you, m y dear sir, consent to this amendment, and give your vote for it at the annual meeting, June 25, 1861Ρ If from your answer, and that of the other Trustees, I find that the Trustees will give a unanimous vote for this amendment, then I will gladly join with you in endeavoring to raise an endowment fund of $200,000, and I will exert myself to the utmost to raise one-half of it in the shortest possible time. B u t if from your answer and that of the other Trustees, it appears that a unanimous vote for this amendment cannot be obtained, then I shall be obliged to leave the College on the first of July next. T h e explicit conditions upon which I accepted the Presidency are not fulfilled, and I am released from m y implied pledge to remain until after April 1862. I should very gladly fulfill that implied promise, and remain even longer, were I permitted to give m y time and strength to the work of education. B u t if, as this year, the President is to

Ιθ8

THOMAS HILL

have continual pecuniary embarrassment and anxieties weighing upon him, then I must leave the post. And if the Board of Trustees, by adhering to sectarian provisions of the Charter, prevent me from vigorous and effective action for lifting the College out of its present state of poverty, I think neither human nor divine witnesses will hold me responsible for the results. Such a letter contains a direct statement of ideals and of necessities. I t was characteristically straightforward—astonishingly so, considering the devious politics of Antioch in the past. T h e frankness which had made Hill beloved in W a l t h a m and respected at Antioch also contributed to his difficulties as an administrator. Seeing only the honesty of his own convictions, he did not realize t h a t others could think him insincere. As he wrote in M a y : The worst feature of the case to me is the exceedingly jealous temper manifested by some of the Christians. They insist on it that my proposed change of charter was a covert way of passing the whole institution into the hands of the Unitarians. The Christians of the Christians say that if we would only make the College wholly and entirely Unitarian, it would be better patronised by Christians than now. They cannot understand me when I assure them that Unitarians don't want a Unitarian College, east or west; that the height of our ambition is to have the College really and in good faith unsectarian. Old friends at W a l t h a m feared t h a t Antioch would not hold out. In F e b r u a r y M a r y Hill had written :

PRESIDENT

OF A N T I O C H

IO9

It is funny to have so many letters come; each wants to know all about the affair, and what he is going to do, and all that, when he doesn't know any more than they do about it. I rather think we shall have to wait until July [the time of the annual trustees meeting] before we shall know much about it. In March, Hill relinquished his teaching to the hands of a faithful faculty, and went east to start an endowment, " p r e p a r e d to coax and beg every man of wealth that I conceive it possible to get anything out o f . " From N e w Hampshire to Pennsylvania he lectured and preached, visited and pleaded for money for Antioch. Then came the bombardment of Fort Sumter. In the first flurries of war excitement, the help which had previously come from staunch believers was turned to meet a more pressing cause. " S o here I a m , " he wrote Dr. Bellows, "still without hope of an endowment this spring, and of course not in a condition to insist upon the change of charter this summer." In J u n e President Hill presented his report to the trustees concerning the state of the college and his own exertions to obtain endowments. T h e spirit of these men was as sectarian as ever. T h e need of funds was imminent, yet they could not cooperate. Instead, a contract was drawn up, providing that the control of Antioch should pass to the party which could raise funds for it. T h e Christians had first chance to raise $ 5 , 1 7 0 , the amount in unpaid salaries, before September 1 , 1861 ; failing that, the

no

THOMAS

HILL

Unitarians were to raise it by November ι . So on July 20, Hill reported what he had heard of the Christian Convention held at T r o y , Ohio. T h e whole two days were taken up with discussions that showed an entire lack of spirit for raising the money. Elder Linn, and one or two others urged that the best way was to repudiate the contract. T h u s the College might be brought to a stop and after lying still a few years the Unitarians would get disgusted with it and give it up to the Christians for nothing; — this would be getting it cheaper than by the Stanton contract. A t any rate I can't fathom the matter. [August 20] I heard from . . . the two Christian agents for raising money appointed b y the T r o y Convention, through a very trustworthy person, a true Christian Christian. B o t h the agents are in despair. T h e y cannot raise the funds on September 1. Summerbell is pouring out great vials of wrath on us Unitarians for having entrapped them!!! Well now the question is, can we Unitarians raise the funds between September 1, and N o v e m b e r 1? H a d our arms been victorious on the 21st ult. [at Bull Run] I think there would have been no doubt. N o w , I feel that it is a serious question. I wish you would advise me as to the best course for me to pursue. I f we cannot raise money for the Endowment, it is not worth while to raise it for the current year. W e have, however, for the current year part of the First Deficiency Fund notes, still good I suppose. T o which I add $500 on next year's which I will increase if necessary. Then I have verbal promises in Boston and at N e w Bedford, amounting to over $800 for help

P R E S I D E N T OF A N T I O C H

III

during the coming year. So that if the e n d o w m e n t could be obtained, I think the current expenses for next y e a r m i g h t easily be covered. E a r l y in S e p t e m b e r , 1 8 6 1 , P r e s i d e n t H i l l s t a r t e d t o m a k e t h i s final e f f o r t t o r a i s e m o n e y in t h e U n i t a r i a n s t r o n g h o l d : $ 5 , 1 7 0 in c a s h b y N o v e m b e r a n d $7,000 in n o t e s p a y a b l e in J u l y , 1 8 6 2 , as a g u a r a n tee of the professors' salaries.

In addition an en-

d o w m e n t o f $50,000 w a s t o b e r a i s e d w i t h i n a y e a r . H i s o w n f a i t h in t h e p o s s i b i l i t i e s a n d f u t u r e o f t h e college convinced even those w h o had been t r y i n g since April, i860, to persuade him to c o m e b a c k to a

secure

Chapel

and

comfortable

in B o s t o n .

As

pastorate

he w r o t e

at

King's

after one

day

rather more successful than usual: Called at M r . H o w e ' s ; he handed me $2ξ in gold and bid me not enter his n a m e on the paper, so I p u t it d o w n Ε . Η . H . M r . T a p l e y came in; said he would do something. B o t h these were v o l u n t a r y offers. W h i l e w r i t i n g letters, G e o . B . Emerson came in and asked me to ride w i t h him to M r . L e e ' s . M r . E m e r s o n g o t f u l l y wide a w a k e a b o u t it, thinks m y field at A n t i o c h m u c h more i m p o r t a n t than K i n g ' s C h a p e l ! ; g a v e me the promise of $100. W h e n at M r . L e e ' s he opened on M r . L e e and m a d e him g i v e a like promise. C o m i n g a w a y M r . E m e r son promised to go to N e w B e d f o r d this w e e k and use all his influence to m a k e M r . A r n o l d help me and A n t i o c h ; he h a d never understood m y position and prospects there before. In such manner was the collection carried

on.

B y N o v e m b e r P r e s i d e n t H i l l h a d r a i s e d in c a s h t h e

112

THOMAS

HILL

sum of $5,170.95, while D r . Bellows completed the v i c t o r y b y m a k i n g u p out of his own pocket almost $1,400 of the $7,000 needed in notes. On the day, November ist, Carter and Kebler were here, and they with Weston, Van Mater, and myself signed a paper approving the schedule of notes for $7,000. The next day Van Mater changed his mind and thought some of the notes not good, and is evidently chagrined at our success. He will not however trouble us on Commencement Day if we can only get our endowment. But how can I possibly take time to work for an endowment? I have now my own classes behindhand, and as Bardwell and Warriner have gone into the army, I must take my share of their classes. The burden is as much as I can bear, and it seems impossible for me to lay it down. I wish I could inoculate someone with all your zeal, and eloquence, and give him all my own knowledge of the state of things here, and all Dr. Walker's wisdom, and then set him to labor for us. It seems to me that we ought to succeed, and must succeed, — and the worse the times are the more need of our success. Hill's patience w a s sorely tried. H o w anyone subscribing to the Christian religion could s a y a n y thing prejudicial or u n t r u t h f u l was entirely beyond his comprehension. Y e t he treated the enemies of the A n t i o c h for which he hoped and worked j u s t as he had the philistines of H a r v a r d w h o had d u m p e d him out of bed. H e was " p e r s u a d e d better things of t h e m . " W i t h f r a n k simplicity he trusted others to do as he would h a v e done, and when t h e y failed

PRESIDENT

OF A N T I O C H

II3

his trust, he merely h o p e d for the better. A s one of h i s s t u d e n t s w r o t e , " I h a v e f a i t h in t h e t r i u m p h o f right, and believe t h a t peace will come to A n t i o c h at no v e r y distant d a y .

M r . Hill's steady

and holy calmness must put contention to

course flight."

N e v e r t h e l e s s h i s d i f f i c u l t i e s c o n t i n u e d , a n d in F e b r u a r y , 1862, P r e s i d e n t Hill thus described to D r . Bellows the state of affairs : T h i n g s are in a mess. I wrote to C a r t e r advising him to p u t in V a n M a t e r if the Christians succeeded Sept e m b e r ι . H e replied t h a t he w o u l d n ' t do it because he t h o u g h t it wrong to r e m o v e a good officer like F r a n k [Hill] w i t h o u t cause. I f the B o a r d instructed him, he'd d o it, otherwise not. So V a n M a t e r is n o t y e t assistant treasurer, and he and Jno. Ellis are v e r y indignant and w r a t h y . T h e n Ellis comes out in his paper with a public a t t a c k on me accusing me of deceit and falsehood, and sectarian zeal to m a k e A n t i o c h a U n i t a r i a n concern, e t c . , b a c k i n g it u p w i t h three or four false s t a t e m e n t s w h i c h he m a n u f a c t u r e d o u t of a misunderstanding and misinterpretation of a note of mine in the Christian Inquirer. T h e n I address Ellis a note m a r k e d " p r i v a t e " and rem o n s t r a t e w i t h him v e r y earnestly against his abusing and slandering me to the i n j u r y of A n t i o c h College, and tell him I think he m u s t be in a wrong state of heart to allow him thus to accuse me publicly of things of w h i c h he m u s t k n o w I am innocent. W h e r e u p o n he garbles and misquotes part of m y letter in his p a p e r ; and in a letter to me misinterprets and misapplies half w h a t I s a y , — assuring me t h a t the old charter will remain. I write him another note a n d remonstrate w i t h him earnestly for bringing p r i v a t e

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grievances into his public print, slandering and injuring the g o v e r n m e n t of the College to its great i n j u r y , when as a T r u s t e e he o u g h t rather to come to m e p r i v a t e l y , or on the B o a r d of T r u s t e e s assail me, and m a k e the g o v e r n m e n t of the College right. W h a t he'll do I do not k n o w . I m a y h a v e m a d e him an eternal and implacable e n e m y . B a r d w e l l is First L i e u t e n a n t of A r t i l l e r y in the 74th O h i o Volunteer M i l i t i a ; Warriner inspector of health in the W e s t . W h e r e f o r e in addition to teaching the Senior C l a s s all t h a t it is s t u d y i n g , viz. G e o l o g y , S t o r y On the Constitution, H a m i l t o n ' s Metaphysics, and G u i z o t ' s Histoire de Civilization, I am g i v i n g the Sophomores a daily recitation and lecture on the differential Calculus, and on C u r v e s and C u r v a t u r e , and the Freshmen a w e e k l y lecture on the proper modes of s t u d y , etc. O f course under these circumstances I cannot g e t a w a y to do p r i v a t e begging for A n t i o c h . O u r students this y e a r number a b o u t one hundred. W i t h t w o Profs, and f o r t y b o y s gone to fighting the rebels the hundred does well. B u t one hundred students, m a n y of them poor, and none p a y i n g more than $37.50 per a n n u m c a n n o t support a proper College organization. N o w w h a t is m y d u t y in the premises? M y heart is in A n t i o c h . G i v e me $1,000 per a n n u m (half m y nominal salary), and g i v e me reasonable prospect of speedy success and I would s t a y . B u t is it m y d u t y to remain there fighting for existence w i t h a mere handful of scholars? W e s t o n s a y s to me, " S t a y , if y o u h a v e to s t a y alone; better President H i l l here w i t h a class of thirteen, than all the F a c u l t y w i t h a school of a hundred, w i t h o u t h i m . " Perhaps m y v a n i t y would m a k e me s a y W e s t o n is right, did n o t the f a c t of the e n m i t y of Ellis and V a n M a t e r , and perhaps others, m a k e m e

PRESIDENT fear t h a t f r o m me. Chapel's there are

OF A N T I O C H

115

the Christians m i g h t at length all be alienated M o r e o v e r , I hear other loud calls. T h e Stone m o u t h is h a p p i l y closed b y brother F o o t e , but p l e n t y of h u n g r y churches.

Spring soon c a m e ; the great w a r of the S o u t h and N o r t h w e n t on, and the chances of raising a n y endowment

held

out

fanciful and futile hopes for a great gift to

dwindled.

Dr.

Bellows

still

the

college, b u t Hill felt almost resigned to Antioch.

leaving

In O c t o b e r he had been a t t a c k e d

a heart ailment.

with

" I don't u n d e r s t a n d , " he wrote

B e l l o w s at t h e t i m e , " h o w y o u s u r v i v e d it f r o m 1852 to 1859, — I really d o n ' t . "

Still he k e p t on,

t e a c h i n g e x t r a classes and struggling for funds. A p r i l the last hope failed.

By

Dr. Bellows wrote that

M r . W h i t t r e d g e , f r o m w h o m he h a d h o p e d t o g e t $25,000 t o w a r d s t h e e n d o w m e n t , c o u l d d o n o t h i n g until the W a r was over, and on the

seventeenth

Hill replied: Y o u r s of the n t h reached me on the 1 5 t h , and although it was a great disappointment and mortification, it was also a great relief and satisfaction, and t h a t in several w a y s . I t was a disappointment and mortification because of the intense conviction t h a t I h a v e , that with $100,000 invested at seven per cent, I c o u l d do a work here at A n t i o c h second to that done at no other institution in the world, measuring I mean b y the usefulness of the results. I never could understand the a p a t h y of the E a s t generally to A n t i o c h . I told m y people a t W a l t h a m some nine years ago t h a t the history

Il6

THOMAS HILL

of America began with the foundation of Antioch College, and if I had $100,000 I'd prove that the statement was not extravagant. M y two years of labor here have given me an attachment too, to the place, and a sense of identification with the enterprise that makes me feel it like a personal humiliation and failure. But your letter was a relief and satisfaction, first because it makes me feel that I had not been utterly shiftless and worthless as a beggar. I had felt mortified at my want of success in procuring gifts, and thought that it was my fault, but when I found you too were meeting repulses, I took courage and said it is the times and not the man who is out of joint. Secondly, what is really first, it gives us a certainty. Here I have been hanging two years on uncertainty, not knowing whether we should stay or go. Now I know that we shall go, and hope that in a very few days I shall know whither. I have delayed this reply over one mail, hoping I could tell you what decision I had made, but find I must wait a few days. Nevertheless the uncertainty is virtually finished. T h e decision finally arrived: on April 2,6, 1862, Thomas Hill was chosen by the Corporation as President of H a r v a r d University. When Horace M a n n came to Antioch he had seen there the greatest possibilities for advancing educational practice. Hill's reluctance to give up those prospects, if any hope for an endowment could be held, was because he too held Antioch as an ideal. In his effort to continue he had impoverished himself to p a y his teachers, and was kind and

THOMAS HILL AT ANTIOCH, 1861

PRESIDENT OF ANTIOCH

II7

generous to a fault. Once when a student was going to leave before her senior year was completed, he modestly supplied through a third party the necessary amount. Except in the first few months, when discipline had to be restored, all the students admired and respected him. They helped to mow the grass and to set out shrubs. Once when the President had been away, fourteen-year-old Mary Hill wrote, "As we got near the house again I heard a voice I rather thought I ' knowed ' and looking up who should I see but my own Popdad examining a snapping turtle and surrounded as usual by students who seemed as glad to see him as we were." Faculty and students alike joined in walks and parties. In its spirit Antioch differed from every other college of its time. " Dr. Hill shared his goods with us," said one of his students, " a s did the devoted teachers who labored with him. There was gratitude and devotion for him, but very little money." Looking back on memories of fifty years, Hill's nephew, John A. Bellows, wrote in the Christian Register of his Antioch days: "When Matthew Arnold wrote that beautiful passage about Oxford, — 'Adorable dreamer! home of lost causes and forsaken beliefs and unpopular names and impossible loyalties,' — he touched a chord that rings for more college men than those of the great English university. To many old Antiochians the wonderful words quite as surely bring

ιι8

THOMAS HILL

up that little Western college, with its gaunt old towers, its very level and unadorned campus, the straggling village street, the beautiful Glen, and, above all, the brave men and noble women — let us frankly say, the glorious company of the apostles, who I suspect, were often a noble army of martyrs — who glorified the Antioch of forty or fifty years ago. . . . " H o w often, and sometimes in dreams, have I gone back to the little town as it was fifty years ago ! Plainly do I recall its long and rather perilous board-walks, its yellowish red mud ; and, if I mistake not, an occasional pig disporting himself in gutters. (Certainly there were deer and sheep in Arcadia, but apparently Sir Philip forgot to speak of pigs!) The President's house where we lived, with its climbing prairie-roses, seemed to me like the home of all the Muses, as it was certainly the home of much wisdom as embodied in the president and his wonderful wife. The architecture of Antioch Hall may not have been as classic as that of the Parthenon; but for me its towers, like those of Oxford, were ' whispering the last enchantments of the Middle Ages, ever calling us nearer to the true goal of all of us, to the ideal, to perfection, to beauty.' Not that there was so very much beauty manifest. I even suspect that there was a good deal of genuine ugliness. At least, everything was plain, and rather bare. There was not enough money —

PRESIDENT

OF A N T I O C H

II9

I suppose there never has been enough money at Antioch — to do much for the outsides of things. But assuredly there was a lot of genuine beauty of the soul, and much high daring of the spirit for the men and women, and even for the boys and girls who went there in the sixties. . . . There was one great natural beauty, and that was the Glen. Every old Antiochian will recall that lovely ravine, which to us children was a kind of fairyland, where we played and dreamed. There was a tradition [indeed, a college regulation] that the young men of the college should walk there only, say, on the evennumbered days of the month, the young women on the odd. But it was like the every other day on which the horse-cars ran in a certain Eastern city: one never remembered which was the off day ! . . . "Of course, however, it was the people there who glorified the place. Dr. Thomas Hill had been called as President to succeed Horace Mann, whose great inspiration had not then died out of the air. As Antioch was one of the first institutions in this country to try coeducation, the training of the two sexes together was still considered — though I think not there — a doubtful problem. Naturally, as a boy, I knew nothing of its difficulties. The young men in the far-away heights of the Junior and Senior classes seemed to me like strong archangels; and many of the young women, to my fancy, wore halos that they have not yet quite laid

I20

THOMAS HILL

aside. Nor did I once suspect the serious straits in which, I suppose, many of the professors and their families found themselves, from the very limited funds of the college, and, I imagine, the consequently irregular payments of their salaries. Not a word, not a look, that I can remember suggested this more than occasional res angusta domi. Rather was there a kind of great good cheer, a high-hearted courage, that laughed at the narrowness of means, and turned semi-poverty into a real joy in the things of the spirit. I am sure it was so in the President's household. I suppose it to have been so with the other professors. As I recall them, they seem to me a splendid company of knightly men and noble women, — Mr. and Mrs. Henry Badger, Dr. Warriner, Prof. Bardwell, Prof. Cary, so long at Meadville, Prof. Weston and his wife. I do not remember anything about their teaching: perhaps as a 'Third Prep.' boy I had little or nothing to do with these professors, though I can distinctly recall . . . the strong impression Mrs. Badger made upon me, — she who was said to have been the original of Hawthorne's Hilda in The Marble Faun, — with her beautiful face and the spiritual charm of her presence. She, like her sister [Lucy Shepard], the second Mrs. Hill, was a prodigy of classical learning, and seemed to carry in her own person all ' the glory that was Greece and the grandeur that was Rome.'

P R E S I D E N T OF ANTIOCH

121

" . . . I close my eyes, and I can see them, as a boy I saw them, a shining row of men and women, on the platform of Antioch Hall, as we sat before them at morning prayers. I do not know that they were all very handsome or peculiarly distinguished in appearance. But as I see them in my dream, after fifty years, they all have a morning look in their faces, a look of onward-facing hope and courage, though the way, Heaven knows, was often dark enough, with few stars above it. . . . It was often a pretty hard struggle for these elders, of which we children knew little or nothing." Thus it was with well-founded idealism that President Hill wrote to Dr. Bellows in October, 1861, when Unitarian prospects were at their height: M y purpose is to m a k e A n t i o c h College so m u c h superior to all the Institutions of the N o r t h w e s t , except A n n A r b o r , and St. Louis, t h a t the colleges of O h i o and Indiana shall either be stimulated into a v e r y m u c h higher life, or else retire from any competition with us. I also hope, and I h a v e already taken some effective steps to accomplish the end, to bring a b o u t such a connexion between the public schools of the S t a t e and our College as shall be h i g h l y beneficial to both. W e h a v e a teachers course of s t u d y , and a great m a j o r i t y of o u r pupils engage in teaching, and h a v e a good reputation as teachers. I propose to m a k e the connexion also between the schools and the College b y h a v i n g the schools fit pupils for the College. T o this end I a m working diligently in the S t a t e T e a c h e r s Association, and writing

122

THOMAS

HILL

in the Ohio Journal of Education, and have a good reason to believe that my articles and lectures are producing a real and permanent effect. T h e crying need for funds, however, left Hill no time to give thought to the college as he wished. If the endowment could be raised he wanted to stay, for only in that way could his whole attention be given to making Antioch known in the East and renowned in the West. With funds, Antioch offered an opportunity to put into practice the doctrines of education which he had stated in 1859 in the "True Order of Studies: lacking them, he could not wear himself to further ill-health and poverty in pursuit of an ideal. Hill's administration of Antioch was a personal one. Instead of having to care for the constant petty demands of a traditional system, instead of all the formalities and restraints of an established community, he enjoyed at Antioch a new type of administration in which the students took a willing part. T o Antioch he gave unsparingly in the face of enormous difficulties, and in spite of the strain and anxiety these were fruitful years in fostering a noble ideal in education.

Chapter VI PRESIDENT OF HARVARD N LOOKING back at Antioch one feels that Hill achieved success: that had not the War intervened he would there have become famed in education. In looking back at Harvard one at first wonders whether he succeeded or failed. Against the long and brilliant administration of his successor, Charles William Eliot, President Hill's term seems almost colorless. Y e t the years from 1862 to 1868 were formative years in Harvard University. They saw a change in viewpoint from that of an undergraduate college with appended professional schools, to that of a university which should add to knowledge as well as disseminate it. The differences in the administrations lie in the attitude of the men. Eliot was primarily an administrator whose skill put through reforms that were inevitable; Hill was essentially a teacher, an earnest theorist in the cause of education. It was his sympathy with that movement that made Eliot say of him, " I have always been thankful that it was he who had charge of the University for the seven

I

124

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years preceding my election to the presidency." But where Eliot later drove reforms into the University, President Hill only pointed the way. Just as he had once clarified Peirce's problems in mathematics, he now revealed a movement which had already begun by showing what should be its logical conclusion. He led by the natural ability in moral persuasion which had already made him beloved as a pastor and a teacher. Where his predecessors had kept to a large extent within the bounds of tradition, President Hill pointed to an ultimate goal in higher education. It was a new kind of administration for Harvard, and the difficulties in its way were appalling. Some obstacles were apparent in the circumstances of Hill's election. Among those active in bringing him to Harvard were the scientists Peirce and Agassiz. Agassiz certainly campaigned actively for him, and probably also the Rev. George Putnam, a member of the Corporation and a liberal Unitarian leader who had scientific interests. Hill's old friends and neighbors at Waltham, the Lymans, were also definitely influential, for they were related to, or intimate with, a number of those on the governing boards of the University. On April 26, 1862, Hill was elected by the Corporation, but when the Overseers met on M a y 17 to confirm the vote there was so much discussion that the meeting adjourned until the twenty-

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second. John Langdon Sibley, then the Librarian, recorded the news in his journal: " T h e nomination . . . was rejected 16 to 9 by the Overseers. The injunction of secrecy is not removed from the debate. It is probable however that objections grow out of an apprehension that the scientific influence was getting too strong an ascendancy over a college founded Christo et Ecclesiae> that the Faculty would prefer, a little, not to have him for President, and that his manners are not quite enough polished to suit them. Perhaps, however, the result was owing very much to the antagonistic feelings of the Overseers against the Corporation, the Overseers endeavoring to control the funds and consequently the College by insisting that all salaries shall be submitted to them for approval and, if possible, annually." T h a t same day Hill dined with Dr. Putnam in Cincinnati, discussing the newspaper's garbled report of the earlier meeting, and what he must do in case the Overseers should confirm the election. In the evening he wrote to Dr. Bellows: I t h a n k y o u for y o u r congratulations and hope t h e y are not premature. I f the Overseers reject me t o d a y on a c c o u n t of m y U n i t a r i a n faith, that I should g l o r y in as a q u a s i - m a r t y r d o m ; if t h e y reject me for fear I should break d o w n H a r v a r d as I h a v e A n t i o c h , then I h a v e other fields still open to me. B u t if t h e y confirm m e , then I trust I m a y h a v e wisdom and s t r e n g t h to fill well the situation a p p a r e n t l y prepared for m e b y the P r o v i -

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dential leanings of many years, particularly manifest since 1858. I will not boast when putting on the harness, but I will hope and pray and trust. M y only regret is that I may have hurried you to your decision to give up after hearing from Mr. Whittredge. I had lost all hope from my success last fall, in getting anything but cash contributions, and I felt that I ought not to keep the Corporation waiting for my answer longer than was necessary. Nor did I wish to decline the appointment at Harvard if there was no rational hope at Antioch. Still he did not decide w i t h o u t considerable hesitation. W i t h any prospect of A n t i o c h prospering D r . Hill would never h a v e come to H a r v a r d , no m a t t e r how flattering the position and how m a n y friends thought him foolish to throw himself a w a y on a little college out W e s t . E v e n before President Felton's illness, Hill had replied to one of these (his brother-in-law, R o b e r t B a r n e t t ) j o k i n g l y y e t withal seriously: Well now, opinions differ. I think that the man who had the opportunity of taking the head position in a rapidly growing state, and of moulding and controlling the destinies of a young institution unfettered by red tape, and with the opportunity of exerting a governing influence in the greatest state of the greatest section of the greatest republic on earth, would be very foolish to cramp his genius down to the presidency of an old established institution off in one corner of the world, where he could exert very little influence and where his time would be almost altogether taken up with the discipline

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of offenders. Which would you prefer, a situation in a new and rapidly increasing business, or in an old establishment that was content with old f o g y ways? N o r w a s this r e p l y u n p r e m e d i t a t e d .

F u l l y nine

m o n t h s b e f o r e , in F e b r u a r y , 1 8 6 1 , M r s . H i l l h a d w r i t t e n in r e p l y t o l e t t e r s f r o m W a l t h a m ,

"The

s u g g e s t i o n h a s been m a d e b e f o r e , as a r e a s o n w h y M r . H i l l ' s a c c e p t a n c e of t h e P r e s i d e n c y h e r e , w o u l d m a k e it m o r e p r o b a b l e t h a t t h a t of H a r v a r d w o u l d s o m e d a y be o f f e r e d t o h i m . "

E v e n after President

F e l t o n h a d d i e d , a n d b e f o r e he h a d been a p p r o a c h e d as a possible s u c c e s s o r , H i l l s h i e d a w a y f r o m t h e i d e a of g o i n g t o H a r v a r d .

On M a r c h 6, 1 8 6 2 , h e

w r o t e to D r . B e l l o w s r e g a r d i n g the f u t u r e : A s for leaving Antioch next J u n e I confess there is some struggle in my heart. I should prefer staying here to doing anything else. B u t if $50,000 cannot be obtained then I do not feel bound to stay, nay I do not feel that I can stay. B u t if I leave, whither? The wish of m y heart is to continue in a similar occupation to m y present, minus a part of the work. I could wish most heartily for the opportunity to teach Metaphysics, Mathematics, or Political Economy, Natural Theology, or Evidences of Christianity. I know of no such opening, and in default of finding one, shall be forced to return to parochial labor. . . . T h e vacancy recently made, to which you allude, does not look at all attractive to me. In case my Alma M a t e r should be so desperately at a loss as to be forced to apply to me, I should of course feel her commands upon me to be almost imperative, — (that is, supposing my-

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self to be ejected by poverty from Antioch), — but they would not be quite agreeable. That post would give me no opportunity to engage in my favorite work of teaching. E a r l y in M a y P r e s i d e n t Hill sent in his resignation f r o m A n t i o c h , t o t a k e effect a t t h e end of J u n e , b u t still he w a s r e l u c t a n t t o leave a n d t o go t o H a r v a r d . O n J u n e 16 he w r o t e t o D r . Bellows: The Cambridge matter is this. When I saw that President Felton was sick I felt a presentiment that I should be asked to succeed him. I should prefer staying here. M y pride would be gratified by succeeding at Antioch. My modesty shrank from the conspicuous position at Cambridge. But after full debate in my own mind I decided that if Antioch could raise no funds, and if Harvard called me, I ought to go. Besides this I had three other retreats in case of failure here. Presently the invitation from Harvard came. I replied that if they wanted an immediate answer it must be no, for I still have hopes of raising money for Antioch. Then your letter came about Mr. Whittredge, and I thought we might better set the stake on that throw. It turned against us and I allowed Harvard to elect me. The Overseers refuse to concur. Looked at in the light of absolute fitness, and the Overseers are right. Looked at in the comparison of other candidates, etc., etc., and I think the Corporation are right in their choice, — I believe that on the whole I should by God's grace do well in the chair at Cambridge, as well as most men likely to be called if the Overseers persist in rejection. It is, I suppose, possible that the Overseers may reconsider, and I ought to be quiet until after the July

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m e e t i n g s . Y e t an e n d o w m e n t offered t o A n t i o c h of $100,000 on condition of m y s t a y i n g , would in t h e p r e s e n t s t a t e of affairs, fix m e h a p p i l y here. B u t I look for no such miracles within t h i r t y d a y s ! In July, Hill's future rested between

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t h e C h u r c h of t h e R e d e e m e r in C i n c i n n a t i , w h e r e he h a d preached while at Antioch, and a similar p o s i t i o n in S t . L o u i s .

In two letters to W a l t h a m

his d a u g h t e r M a r y described their feelings: I d o n ' t t h i n k its easy to give u p all speculations on t h e s u b j e c t when e v e r y b o d y ' s t a l k i n g a n d w r i t i n g a b o u t it. F r i e n d s l e a v i n g for t h e E a s t say, " O h , well, I h o p e t o see y o u all s o o n . " T h i s serves s o m e t i m e s t o check e m o tion, a n d s o m e t i m e s to excuse t h e w a n t of it, a n d so is v e r y p r o p e r l y said, b u t C i n c i n n a t i a n s are e q u a l l y positive in s a y i n g t h a t t h e y expect u s t o settle a m o n g t h e m before long. F a t h e r is s a n g u i n e . A little while ago h e was m o u r n i n g over a p o p p e d or exploded h a t ( t u r n t o t h e " A u t o c r a t " for e x p l a n a t i o n s ) which he d e c l a r e d he h a d b o u g h t for C a m b r i d g e . W e e n d e a v o r e d to console h i m b y s a y i n g t h a t we s u p p o s e d h e d i d n ' t expect t o need it for t h e r e now, to which he replied w i t h m u c h solemnity, "Certainly, I do." T h e way the Christians snapped at and accepted F a t h e r ' s resignation, before he could fairly offer it, w a s p e r f e c t l y comical. Y o u m a y see in t h e p a p e r s , t h a t f a r f r o m being s u s p e n d e d , t h e college is t o go on m o r e vigorously t h a n ever, a n d t h e s t a n d a r d of e d u c a t i o n still m o r e e l e v a t e d . T h e y o u g h t t o a d d , I ' m sure, t h a t it is n o w exclusively in t h e h a n d s of t h e C h r i s t i a n s . M o t h e r t h i n k s we h a v e as b a d luck in colleges as we

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used to in cats. They all either won't have Father or can't pay him. L e a v i n g t h e f a m i l y at Y e l l o w Springs, H i l l w e n t E a s t to visit at W a l t h a m and to see A g a s s i z at N a h a n t . O n A u g u s t 17 he preached a sermon at W a l t h a m , of w h i c h M r s . A r t h u r T . L y m a n wrote to her sister: I wish you all could have heard Mr. Hill's sermon yesterday. It seemed just what we needed in these terrible times. I can give you no idea of his fervor and earnestness, of his calm, beautiful faith and trust. Would that we all could feel it now and ever. Was it not touching to see him there, his place now occupied by another, the undertaking to which he went forth in hope unsuccessful, and this bitter disappointment besides, yet so calm and trusting in God that all was rightly ordered for a right end. I wish every Overseer could have seen and heard him; their slanders would have refuted themselves. He has been shamefully treated at the Institute too. During the last year he has received but 360 dollars, and yet has managed to pay every professor, thus leaving himself penniless. He seems very much dejected when speaking of Cambridge, but delighted to see his garden, recognizing every plant and flower. I fear he will accept the call to Cincinnati, and what else can he do? A t M r s . George L y m a n ' s , H i l l " s a t a long while talking w i t h Philip H o w e s Sears, her son-in-law, and found him quite a pleasant m a n " — writing n o t h i n g about his being an Overseer! Still everything was not discouraging, in spite of the advice

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of old President W a l k e r to accept the pastorate at Cincinnati, for H i l l had already been to Agassiz's at N a h a n t . T h e y m e t again in Boston b y appointment on A u g u s t 16, p r o b a b l y at the office of Hill's friend and classmate, Judge William A . R i c h a r d son. T o t h a t meeting came also another of '43, John W i l l i a m B a c o n . I sat talking with Bill awhile [Hill wrote to his family], and then Johnny Bill came in, and after a few minutes Agassiz came in. We shut the door and talked rapidly half an hour. Then Agassiz and I walked down to the corner of Washington and Summer. He went on and I waited for him. . . . Results partially unfavorable but not decidedly so, and of no great importance. Agassiz and Bill both confident of success in October. O n September 9 a committee of the Corporation reported in f a v o r of renaming D r . Hill as President. T h e Overseers met on the t w e n t y - t h i r d , and M r s . A r t h u r L y m a n wrote to her father, John A m o r y Lowell, w h o was a m e m b e r of the Corporation, but w h o had been abroad since early in J u l y : The meeting of the Overseers took place on Tuesday, and the nomination was referred to a committee, of which Judge Russell was chosen chairman. Mr. Bassett rose to propose a committee, but being lame and stiff his movements were slow, and Judge Russell sprang lightly to his feet and was chosen chairman in his stead. Mr. Bassett did not like to sit down without saying anything and so seconded the motion. I think they were doubtful whether they could carry the rejection

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again, and yet there was one unfavorable sign. One of M r . Hill's friends proposed that there be no adjournment, that the vote be taken at once. T h i s motion was overruled by a large m a j o r i t y , which was thought a bad sign, — his friends being a larger force that d a y than they might perhaps be again. Judge A b b o t t said he preferred not being on the committee, he was so busy. I cannot, however, help having a good deal of hope, for they are certainly not confident that he will be rejected. His friends ought to work night and day for the next week. Uncle F r a n k said that he thought it would be a close vote; he understood the committee were four in his favor, three opposed. T h e Adamses are very anxious and very interested. Mrs. A . said she was not afraid; if they only give him a trial they would find him ever purer and nobler.

On October 6,1862, President Hill's election was confirmed by the Overseers. Soon afterward Mrs. L y m a n wrote to her sister: P a p a will be rejoiced, as we were, at the good news of M r . Hill's elevation. . . . W e were in the greatest excitement M o n d a y afternoon. W e . . . waited first in the house, and then in the road, in great excitement. A t length Robert [Paine] appeared in sight and gave three cheers for M r . Hill. H e was elected, 15 against 8. Annie and I went round to tell the Adamses, who received the news with great delight. Mrs. A d a m s wept for j o y and said she was not afraid now; he would prove himself. She longed to see him coming in like a great boy and then saying something so wise ! W e have heard since more details about the meeting. M r . Bassett made a speech against M r . Hill, accusing

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him of eccentricity, and the members who had changed their votes of bribery and corruption. Mr. Bassett ended by saying that the Orthodox had put Mr. Hill in, contrary to the wish of the leading Unitarians and now he hoped they would say no more against Unitarianism. Mr. Sears made a speech setting forth his views upon the importance of the classics and dangerous tendencies of the physical sciences. Hon. Edward Everett, horrified that there should be any non-concurrence between the two Boards, . . . confessed his slight acquaintance with Mr. Hill, but from the partial insight he had obtained relevant to his principles, he was reluctantly obliged to admit that he did not consider him the man for the place. Judge Abbott spoke warmly in Mr. Hill's favor, also Judge Russell, who read Mr. Quincy's letter. Rev. Mr. Muzzey spoke against and Rev. Mr. Manning in favor of him. The other four opponents we do not know. They telegraphed to Mr. Hill and the Adamses have heard from Mrs. Hill. She said they would come to Waltham as soon as their packing boxes were ready to prepare for Cambridge. His wife wrote that they both felt very much the responsibilities of the position, but were very much gratified at the result. Ask Papa how it was managed and how so many were convinced. Was it by Mr. Quincy's letter? I t always seemed to me too providential not to come to pass. T h u s t h e c i r c u m s t a n c e s of P r e s i d e n t Hill's election reflected m a n y of t h e difficulties in t h e w a y of a successful a d m i n i s t r a t i o n . S o m e h o p e d for, o t h e r s f e a r e d , t h e coming of a liberal or scientific e d u c a t o r . T h e r e was dissension even a m o n g those w h o s u p p o r t e d t h e t r a d i t i o n of electing clergymen

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as presidents. At the same time the Overseers and the Corporation were playing against each other for the control of finances. With such forces making themselves known, only a diplomat could appreciate them and contend with them successfully. Most important, however, was the new President's relation to the social dignity of his office. Here was reflected the conflict between tradition and a personality which was to become a definite factor in Hill's administration. Those who expected him to be formal, with more austere dignity than had ever breathed from Thomas Hill in his whole life, mistook simplicity for commonness, and gentleness for weakness. As Dr. Henry Pickering Walcott, '58, said of him, "President Hill allowed himself to be imposed upon: many of his difficulties can be traced to his efforts to be kind and natural." Indeed the qualities which had made him loved as a pastor and teacher brought only misunderstanding in a politically polished society. With a belief in Christian brotherhood Hill did not feel in the least that he was not conforming to the dignity of an office he regarded as open in friendship to all who might seek him. Few students saw this side, since it was a timehonored custom to avoid all " P r e x y s , " no matter who. Few parents were intimate with him, for those in Boston society had little in common with the new President. The deviation from the usual

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rule of Boston-bred presidents was in itself remarkable, and Hill just as consciously avoided social affairs as Boston clung to its family traditions. If some, both in Cambridge and in Boston, felt him " n o t quite enough polished to suit t h e m , " so likewise did Hill " shrink from the conspicuous position at C a m b r i d g e . " Moreover he could not afford to live otherwise than quietly and modestly as he wished. His own straitened circumstances were in obvious contrast to those of m a n y of his own professors. Following a line of presidents whose levees had been both formal and well attended by Cambridge society, it was rather expected of President Hill to continue them. But it never entered his mind that formality would be required. A t his inaugural (March 24, 1863), instead of making the usual public announcement he merely told those about him that he would be glad to see his friends from six to ten o'clock, " a n d tho' it was not generally k n o w n , " as Sibley wrote in his journal, " t h e r e was a good assemblage." W i t h the stringencies of wartime the Commencement levees at the President's house became even more simple, with no refreshments in 1864, and only cakes and coffee in 1865; and, until the privilege became flagrantly abused, Hill issued no invitations or cards, but supposed that all would attend through custom. T h a t spring Sibley again became startled enough

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to note the President's doings: " M a y 1 1 : This evening President Hill set two trumpet creepers on the south side of the east transept of Gore Hall, and two Virginia creepers on the north side. The President took off his coat and spaded as diligently as any farmer or gardener." For the rest of the month more creepers, ivy, and evergreens were noted. "Some people," Sibley continued, " a r e unwise enough to say that the President is sinking his dignity by doing such things," and thereafter he himself was cautious enough to refrain from mentioning the President's doings. Somewhat later President Hill fell from grace in the eyes of Professor Torrey, one of the most reactionary of conservatives. Torrey dressed somewhat formally, always wearing the high laced boots then in fashion : Hill, preferring comfort to fashion, wore oxfords. But after the President, stopping in their walk to take out a stone, removed his shoe in full sight of the entire College Y a r d , Torrey from that day on refused to walk with him. Still, after Dr. Hill had spent a Sunday at Waltham in January, 1863, Mrs. Arthur Lyman wrote: " H e did not know how he was liked, but he knew he liked it: but we have heard from others that he is very much liked, winning all hearts, specially among the young m e n " ; and again, after the inaugural in March, when Dr. Hayward of the Medical School had entertained in his honor:

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" D r . Bigelow said that everywhere he went he heard nothing but praises of Mr. Hill, praises of his address at Cambridge, praises even of his appearance. The 'awkwardness and the eccentricity ' all seem forgotten. Mrs. Hill too seems to have made a very good impression. . . . Of course the popularity will not always continue, but whether it continues or not, it can never make him anything but a great and noble man." Such were the trials of a genuinely natural person thrust by circumstance into the presidency of Harvard. In the next few years this conflict between tradition and personality was to have an important effect. The rising spirit of change was first apparent in a growing sense of what Harvard should be. The idea was not new: President Kirkland's time was one of expansion; President Walker was perhaps the last to look on the undergraduate department as the great object of interest; President Felton shared with progressive teachers an ideal of higher education. Even in the popular mind this movement for educational reform had long since begun, but not until the ending of the Civil War were the concentrated energies of idealism forced into these new channels. Twenty years before, the ideal in higher education had been to study in Germany; now it turned to breed scholarship in America. Inevitably these changes came to Harvard. Among

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others, Professors Ticknor, Lowell, and Longfellow had long demanded higher academic standards, but it was left for the triumvirate of Professors Agassiz and Peirce and President Hill to introduce the idea that the University should expand in disseminating knowledge, by the cooperative efforts of all its departments, and should also add to knowledge. In this it is apparent that Louis Agassiz was at the head of the procession. In his Museum of Comparative Zoology he had sown the seed of graduate research. Furthermore he insisted on an unselfish cooperation which coincided almost exactly with President Hill's ideal. Agassiz was, moreover, a driving force, and early in November, 1861, he started his campaign. T h e Lawrence Scientific School, of whose Faculty he was a member, was in notoriously ill condition. In the Faculty meeting of November ζ Agassiz made a motion that " w e regularly discuss the interests of the Scientific School." Professors Agassiz, Eustis, and Charles W . Eliot were appointed a committee on the order of subjects to be discussed. T h e report of this committee, presented in December, was read by Eliot and contained a synopsis of the course of study recommended and regulations concerning degrees. In the course of a year several plans were proposed, centering on the development of a " g e n e r a l " as well as a " s p e c i a l " course in the School. Pending Hill's election and

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his actual arrival Agassiz made no move in the discussions until, on December 2, 1862, the plans proposed by Eliot and by Professor Asa Gray, the botanist, were referred to President Hill " i n the hope that he might be able to suggest a scheme which would be unanimously adopted by the Faculty." Then Professor Peirce arose and "expressed the opinion that Professor Agassiz had prepared a plan for the better organization of the School." At the next meeting Agassiz appeared and read a communication which extended the horizon of the "general" course movement to take in not only the entire University but also teachers, graduates of other colleges, and the general public. As a means of forcing his opponents into the light he expressly provided for the immediate voluntary action of individuals. "Unless therefore the heads of the different departments agree to modify the plan they have thus far pursued with the view to benefitting the University generally," he said, "nothing can be done, until provisions be otherwise made for more general courses. Assuming, however, that each of us, within moderate limits, is ready to cooperate in a work which may greatly improve the general condition of the University, I would propose the following organization." His suggestion was for a plan of University Lectures of a character higher than those then given within the several departments of the University. Starting

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with President Hill — whom he asked to deliver a course similar to his Lowell Lectures of 1859 on the interrelation of all the sciences — and continuing through Engineering and Chemistry (aimed at Eliot), the Observatory, the College, the Law School, and the Divinity School, Agassiz propounded a system of voluntary lectures open to every member of the University and to outsiders upon application. " I n this w a y , " he concluded, " I would break open the class system which is too exclusively adhered to in the University, and initiate a freer system of elective studies outside of the undergraduate department." Thus Louis Agassiz started the University to growing. The effects, although not immediate, were far reaching. In Agassiz's plan he laid the foundation for the University Extension system, for the opening of courses to students in other departments, for replacing the time-honored recitation by the lecture, for reviving the elective system in the College, and for Harvard's reaching out towards graduate instruction. Here were the seeds which, with the passing of time, the Eliot administration was to bring to brilliant fruition. On March 1 1 , 1863, the Corporation assented to the plan, and immediately three courses were started. One hundred twenty-six persons registered, thirtyfive of them school teachers, and fourteen "outsiders" paying five dollars apiece. In the next

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term, when there were more courses given, the enrollment increased, but when in later years onlyabstruse scientific courses were offered, the attendance soon dropped sharply. This had been expected, and while lectures on popular science drew good audiences, those which only three or four attended were quite as important in the eyes of Agassiz and of President Hill. In the President's Report for 1863-64 he said of the University Lectures, "On the whole they have done something toward supplying the great educational want of our nation, a University." What President Hill meant by " a University" he then proceeded to explain. It was the same ideal which had prompted Agassiz to present the plan for the University Lectures, but President Hill clarified it and showed the logical course of events towards graduate study. In 1862 he had echoed the possibility that Harvard might well become " t h e first American university," but in his report for 1863-64, dated January 1, 1865, he spoke definitely of the plan: If the genius of our colleges is such that they must be confined to the diffusion of knowledge, and not allowed to contribute to its increase, then it is time that we should found a new institution, whose purpose it shall be to further sound learning. . . . In addition he suggested the establishment at Harvard of earned graduate degrees:

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The plan of "terminable fellowships," or "scholarships for resident graduates," to be given to young men of ability who should remain in Cambridge pursuing studies not professional for a limited number of years, passing examinations at proper intervals, and receiving an appropriate degree and diploma at the end of the course, seems fitted to produce a speedy and favorable result, by showing whether there are any young graduates eager for a higher education than they can now obtain. President Hill's suggestion for graduate degrees was entirely disregarded. The matter of scholarships was discussed two days later in the Academic Council, and then, submerged by the other needs of the University, it disappeared. He had unfortunately hitched the idea of graduate study to an unattainable star, the establishment of an endowment. Another problem arose with the opening of the University Lectures to those outside the University. The Medical School found them " a valuable aid to instruction," and because of them soon discovered themselves in a dilemma. Except in these lectures — some of which, particularly President Hill's course on the Teaching of Mathematics, were offered primarily for school teachers — Harvard was not yet willing to admit women to its instruction. Nevertheless, after having twice been refused admission to the regular courses in the Medical School, four nurses enrolled in its course of Uni-

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versity Lectures. For two months the Medical Faculty were perplexed but finally they asked the President " t o notify the females now in attendance upon the University Lectures delivered at the Massachusetts Medical College to discontinue." As a means of administering the University Lectures and of continuing the drive for cooperation on University problems, President Hill followed up Agassiz's communication before the Scientific School Faculty by calling a meeting of the professors of all departments to discuss the plan for the University Lectures. Thus in January, 1863, arose the Senatus Academicus. Under President Hill this Academic Council held at first semi-annual meetings and later annual ones. Before it he brought almost all his propositions for bettering the University, but attendance was small, and the only subject not introduced by the President himself was that concerning women students. Thus the Council was moribund from the start, and when President Eliot revived and enlarged it under a new statute in 1872 it was no more successful. Nevertheless it was an experiment in departmental and individual cooperation. If Harvard was not yet ready for graduate studies, women students, and interdepartmental discussions of those affairs common to all the University, it was no more ready to see the process of education as a whole. Starting with the ideal of a

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true university and w i t h the proposal of J a n u a r y , 1865, for earned g r a d u a t e degrees and scholarships, President H i l l speedily initiated a discussion on elective studies. H i s paper read before the A c a d e m i c Council on this occasion is not e x t a n t , but he followed it w i t h another, entitled " S t u d i e s in H a r v a r d C o l l e g e . " I t is undated, but in all probability it was presented before the committee of the Corporation w h i c h in 1866 was considering changes in the undergraduate course. W h i l e it was f r a n k l y an idealistic picture, he showed w h a t could be done w i t h unlimited moral and some m o n e t a r y support. H e first proposed to raise the standards of the professional schools b y m a k i n g them t r u l y g r a d u a t e — pointing especially to the technical course of the L a w r e n c e Scientific School — and also b y requiring a rigorous examination for their degrees. T h e n in regard to the College, w h i c h w a s the focal point of the committee's discussion, he said: Secondly, in regard to the College or School of Liberal Arts, I would maintain still the current doctrine that this Department is not to be professional or technological. The tendency to make it so should be carefully guarded against and resisted. The function of the undergraduate department is to develop and train the powers of the student in such wise as best to fit him for any special walk which he may afterward choose, in science, art, literature, religion, or politics. To do this it must still insist on giving to every young man as broad a culture as possible, opening his mind to the

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greatest variety of topics, without distracting or confusing him. And in order that this broad culture should begin at an early age, in the preparatory schools, the requisites for admission should be enlarged, and modified in essential particulars. In Latin and Greek I would abolish, as much worse than useless, the examinations in grammar and in writing those languages; but would require for admission to College the ability to read and explain the grammatical construction of more than is now required. To translate accurately, learning grammar only to the extent necessary to their accurate translation, would be to the general student incomparably more useful than the writing of Arnold's Prose Composition or committing to memory of Andrews & Stoddard. One half the time given by most young men to Latin and Greek studies before entering College is wasted upon details of grammar, worse than wasted, because that sort of study diminishes the students' interest in the authors studied. In the mathematics the candidate also misuses time thro the inverted method of teaching so common in schools; exercising the memory, loading it with details, straining the reason with demonstration; but not illuminating the imagination with principles to guide its flights. Through this saving of time in the classics a n d in m a t h e m a t i c s , President Hill proposed t h a t an e l e m e n t a r y knowledge of physics, n a t u r a l history, and modern l a n g u a g e s be required. After s t a t i n g in detail a plan for admission he continued: I think that such an examination would give us a Freshman Class about six months older, and twelve

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m o n t h s better educateci than the F r e s h m a n Classes under the present system. W h a t should we do w i t h the C l a s s w h e n it had entered? I t s m e m b e r s would h a v e already had before entering College a compulsory training in M a t h e m a t i c s , Physics, H i s t o r y , and L a n g u a g e . Should we then g i v e t h e m a free choice, or a partial one? I t appears to me desirable to g i v e them still for three years a compulsory course in A m e r i c a n H i s t o r y and Political E c o n o m y , in M e n t a l and M o r a l P h i l o s o p h y , and the practice o f writing. In regard to other m a t t e r s allow them a free choice, only requiring the student to take studies enough to o c c u p y his time. T h e degree of Bachelor of A r t s should be bestowed at the end of each A c a d e m i c y e a r upon those w h o h a d (1) been thro the course p r e p a r a t o r y for admission, (2) passed good examinations in all the required studies of the three years in College, (3) passed 100 m o n t h l y examinations in a n y elective studies he m i g h t choose under necessary restrictions. A l l these examinations m u s t be scattered over the three years, and m a y be extended o v e r four, and reasonable facilities m u s t be offered to allow a student to complete them in three years. T o o m u c h of the students' time is now occupied in the daily examinations, called recitations, and too little a c t u a l l y viva voce teaching is obtained f r o m the Professors, and I should in the plan proposed increase the a m o u n t of oral instruction and diminish the a m o u n t of daily examinations, substituting more m o n t h l y examinations. W e m u s t not forget t h a t although each student has his special a p t i t u d e s and special inaptitudes, the only w a y nevertheless for a student of special branches to

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attain excellence in those branches is to have the widest preparatory and collateral education which his nature allows. The special student should give himself wholly to his chosen subject, and to whatever bears upon it or throws light upon it, and he will find that everything throws light upon it. "All are needed by each one," and the problem in education is to devise a plan by which each student shall have his powers of perception and imagination and reason aroused to activity upon every subject; so that the student may the more intelligently choose and more effectively pursue the one for which he is best endowed by nature. Of course as a practical matter in the present state of the College Treasury, the Elective System is limited both by the paucity of teachers and paucity of rooms. The enlargement of the system has been carried by the present Faculty as far as is possible in this state of poverty. I n these proposals, which r a n g e d f r o m t h e prep a r a t o r y school t o g r a d u a t e studies, P r e s i d e n t Hill saw t h e process of e d u c a t i o n as a whole. H e recognized in t h e College an agency for t r a n s f o r m i n g t h e schoolboy i n t o t h e s t u d e n t , w h o would t h e n be e q u i p p e d t o e n t e r g r a d u a t e or professional s t u d y . As a t e a c h e r he saw t h a t t h e real abilities of t h e professors were being w a s t e d . Still t h e r e was no c h a n c e t h a t this c o n t i n u o u s process in e d u c a t i o n would b e p o p u l a r l y recognized. T h e energies of r e f o r m were c e n t e r e d on t h e College, a t t a c k i n g t h e difficulty of b o t h its c u r r i c u l u m a n d its admission requirements.

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This was inevitable from the nature of that movement. It had come from outside, where Harvard was thought of as primarily the College — a tradition deeply rooted and still present. President-Emeritus Eliot, speaking in 1921, said of it, " D r . Hill brought in another spirit. Nevertheless, to this day there are many Harvard Bachelors of Arts who hold that graduates of Harvard professional schools cannot be considered to be genuine sons of Harvard, and do not see that the service Harvard University renders to the country through its graduate professional schools is greater than that it renders through Harvard College proper. A Harvard tradition that is still an obstacle to progress!" The immediate cause for outside interest in the College appeared in September, 1864, when the Sophomores put the new Freshmen through an extraordinary course of hazing. Seizing the opportunity for capital, the newspapers contrasted in lurid lines the conditions at Harvard with the purity of other N e w England colleges. President Hill became indignant at the utter falsity of the reports. He demanded of the editors that they either prove or retract their statements, especially as only a few weeks later two students were dismissed from Y a l e for the same cause. He only added fuel to flame. A n editor in Springfield wrote in reply that he was surprised that Hill did not appreciate the ef-

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forts of his paper in cooperating w i t h the H a r v a r d authorities to s t a m p out the evil. T h e question turned from that of discipline into one which Hill regarded as more f u n d a m e n t a l , and in his annual report he belabored the newspapers and false friends alike. T h u s for an entire term the College w a s in the public eye, and the result was soon to come in agitation for reform. B y the end of the y e a r 1864 Lincoln had been reelected and Sherman had begun his m a r c h to the sea. T h e energy of idealism shifted into new channels, and the m a t t e r of changes in H a r v a r d College, w h i c h had begun and was right at h a n d , was one of t h e m . T h e disturbance was most p a t e n t l y reflected in Sibley's disappointment in the number of Freshmen admitted at C o m m e n c e m e n t in J u l y , 1865. A p p a r e n t l y he had expected t h a t the ending of the w a r would bring a v e r y large increase, but when he saw that only ninety-five were enrolled, w h i c h w a s less than the average of normal times, he set down w h a t he felt to be the causes: t h a t Professor James Mills Peirce had been too exacting in M a t h ematics; that those in college had communicated the difficulties to their quondam schoolmates; t h a t the H a r v a r d admission requirements were so strict t h a t b o y s could enter a year in advance at other places; the expense; and finally, " w h a t has hurt the College m u c h is the u n j u s t circulation of rumors respecting brutalizing treatment in hazing

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newcomers." Fortunately, however, more students passed the examinations at a later date, and the class became as large as it had been before the war. Y e t Sibley's fears were well grounded. F i v e months earlier, in February, 1865, a committee of parents and guardians had drawn up a memorial to the Corporation: " . . . W e have learned that year by year the requirements in particular branches are more severe, and we fear that studies not essential to a regular intellectual growth are given an undue prominence. If the facts are as stated the remedy for this condition of affairs lies with the Corporation rather than with the faculty of the College. So far as we are informed upon the organization and powers of the latter, there would appear to exist a necessity for more unity of purpose and of action to be derived from some properly arranged system." T h e y urged a complete investigation of system and schedule, including textbooks, number and length of lessons, and examinations and their contingent results. In addition they suggested that the organization of the Faculty should be modified " . . . s o that the power of the different members should be proportioned to the responsibility of their positions. T h e President of the College, who for the time being is supposed to give force and direction to its government, is really so limited in his

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place that the youngest and most inexperienced tutor in the faculty has an equal vote in its decisions. It is possible that cases may arise in which the President should have a controlling power over its decisions, or when the opinions of the senior professors should more than counterbalance those of graduates of recent standing, when expressed in the form of votes." In April another parent wrote to the Corporation, " H a d I heard as much about the course of mathematics at Cambridge three years ago as I have within the last year I should either have sent my son to N e w Haven [this from a Lowell !] or had him put through another course of Mathematics before he entered college." Thus the reform movement was in two directions, that of studies and that of administration. The first of these had its results in the rise of the elective system; the second, in the long deliberations of the Overseers in the winter of 1868-69 and the election of Charles William Eliot as President Hill's successor. Elective studies had undergone vicissitudes since 182.4, when the idea was first introduced. B y 184I they were only countenanced, and then with the restriction of half credit for such courses. Professors Beck, Felton, Peirce, and Longfellow continued to support the plan, but the opposition was strong, and President Sparks further narrowed its scope by allowing credit for only one elective. A n y

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others were " e x t r a " and did not count. It became in name as well as in fact a " v o l u n t a r y " system, and still the choice continued to lessen. After Professor Felton became President the list was expanded to include patristic and modern Greek — his own favorites — as well as German, Spanish, and Italian. Even then the highest mark obtainable was only six, instead of eight as in required studies. Hemmed in by the opposition, electives were at best "voluntary." President Hill brought in the idea of an elective system substantially in its present spirit: excepting those studies deemed necessary, a free choice. In January, 1865, he introduced the subject of electives to the Academic Council, and may have advocated at that time a complete revision of both studies and methods of instruction, as he did the next year in his paper before the committee. He knew, however, that possible changes were limited both by the financial condition of the University and by a strong opposition. Nevertheless agitation from outside and by the progressive members of the College Faculty soon resulted in the vote of April 24, 1865, which President Eliot later spoke of as coming "without explanation or prolonged discussion," and "thus the Faculty set out on a road which they have steadily travelled ever since." At the same time the recitation system was being attacked in the newspapers and periodicals. Pro-

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fessor Hedge's article on "University Reform" appeared in the Atlantic Monthly for September, 1866, and Francis C. Lowell demanded of the Corporation, " I f your methods of training are really the best, would it not be well to have them fully explained and defended before the public?" How difficult it was to bring in a new order of things is only too well shown by the Corporation's adopting in April, 1867, a new scheme of studies, not because it satisfied anyone, but as "better than the existing order." Nevertheless the death knell had sounded for recitations and for the class system of required studies. President Hill led the movement of change by recognizing the relation of preparatory, college, and graduate studies in the process of education. But with popular attention centered on the College alone, the time was not ripe for the general acceptance of any doctrine of integral education. The idea of graduate studies had borne no fruit. The advocacy of higher admission standards, founded on a view of the educational process as a whole, was met on one side by agitation against the standard already in force, and was opposed on the other by sentiment against any radical reform. While that doctrine which struck at the methods of preparation was fundamentally sound, few school teachers were trained outside the tradition, and what was more important, Harvard's treasury

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could not afford any decrease in enrollment. Thus, while Hill clarified the objectives of the movement which later were recognized and attained, the difficulties of finding support at that time were heaped high in the way. Only after a considerable growth in Harvard's monetary and moral support was it possible for President Eliot to extend the elective system, to change the standard of admission, and to attempt the three-year course. Another reason why President Hill's ideals for the University took little root was because they were still in the process of formation. The success of his natural method of persuasion depended largely on repetition and restatement so that the force of logic might be the converting agency, but his views on university administration, while corollary to those which he held on secondary education, were not yet fully established in his own belief. He had not restated and reiterated them as he had for twenty years those on natural theology, integral education, and school instruction. Antioch's course had been a combination of preparatory and college studies, offering, in a state unhampered by educational tradition, an opportunity to build from the schools upward. Harvard, with its enormous possibilities for new ideals of scholarly attainment, presented entirely new problems. Here again the conflict was between tradition and one who with a few others was looking far ahead. Those who

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had faith in the idea of a university which should contribute to knowledge as well as disseminate it found in President Hill one who extended the principle of sound education not only upward into higher learning but also downward to reach through the College into the preparatory and elementary schools. While both tradition itself and a reform movement governed by tradition defeated this greater ideal, its final acceptance is the true measure of its worth. Administratively President Hill lacked both the vigor of Agassiz in converting the indifferent and the unbelievers and the steadfastness of Eliot in pushing toward a specific goal. His success depended on the cooperation of those who were striving toward a common ideal. In this way he had united his parishioners at Waltham, and in the face of poverty had secured voluntary cooperation at Antioch. A t Harvard there were not enough Agassizs or Peirces to inspire success. Its administration was one traditionally politic in nature, and Thomas Hill was no strategist. He tried to conciliate opposing forces by entirely natural frankness, and in Christian fairness to be just to everyone. Thus President Hill attempted to yoke the needs of the Scientific School and his desires for the University. When Professor Eben Horsford resigned the Rumford Professorship in January, 1863, Professor Charles W . Eliot, then a young teacher of

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chemistry in the Lawrence Scientific School, expected to be appointed to the place. T h e proponents of the university idea believed that in the interests of higher education the man to fill it was Professor Wolcott Gibbs, who was then in N e w Y o r k , and was already widely known as an extremely capable and progressive physicist and chemist. T h e problem was to keep Eliot — for his teaching and administrative abilities were highly valued — and at the same time to get Gibbs. N o one knew as did Eliot the circumstances of the Scientific School, and when President Hill brought up the proposition that he should continue on a salary partially dependent on student fees Eliot of course refused. It was then proposed to transfer the Rumford Professorship to the College, with the idea of having Gibbs teach physics, which indeed its founder had originally intended, and so to leave Eliot in charge in the Scientific School. This move would also put a liberal scientist on the College Faculty. Eliot apparently communicated his fears for the Scientific School to his friend and mentor, Professor Cooke, who was teaching chemistry in the College, and Cooke remonstrated with Peirce. On February ao, 1863, Peirce wrote to President Hill: I do not know how to do justice to the arguments of the enclosed letter from my friend and colleague Prof. Cooke by any condensation of them which I could make.

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I think that I had better, therefore, send it to you and let it exert its proper influence in its own way. Some of the points which are presented are of rather a delicate nature. . . . I cannot think that the Corporation will acknowledge that they are bound to divert any foundation from its legitimate purposes to maintain an institution which is inadequate to its own support. I believe this obligation to be wholly imaginary on the part of my colleague, and to be quite inconsistent with the recent measures by which the Rumford Professorship was restored to the undergraduate department of the college. But if I am mistaken, and there is such an obligation, let it be carried out in the most honorable manner. Meanwhile, having on February 12 obtained Gibbs' assent to his formal nomination for the Rumford chair, President Hill turned to the task of providing for Eliot, and following the method for raising money which indeed had been the only one possible at Antioch, he turned to those who might be prevailed upon to supply the needed funds. When Eliot heard that wealthy members of his family were being approached, he placed himself squarely against any such "temporary or unusual expedient whatever, but not against the raising of a permanent fund which would be a lasting addition to the resources of the University." If he were to stay it would be only "on the usual salary, paid in the common w a y . " There is perhaps no stronger illustration of the difference between Hill and Eliot. The President

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acted according to the method of persuasion which was to him usual and right, and with his natural kindliness wished to provide for Eliot, especially as it was well known that the young professor was in somewhat straitened circumstances. Moreover, as he knew from his experience at Antioch, no endowments could be secured in wartime. Eliot, on the other hand, showed the steadfastness to conviction which later characterized his presidency. Hill continued to try to find some way out of the difficulty and so held off Gibbs' nomination until the end of the term, but Eliot stood his course and further demonstrated to the Corporation the dire need of the Scientific School for the Rumford funds. Apparently he did not seem to realize that Gibbs was definitely slated for the post, and that he either would have to take whatever could be found for him or would be forced to withdraw entirely. In the end the Corporation recognized the truth of his contentions in regard to the Scientific School and again allotted to it the Rumford Professorship, but as under the circumstances no endowment could be found for Eliot, and as he was unwilling to modify his position, the new Rumford Professor became the head of the Lawrence Scientific School. It seemed at the time as if Eliot had been pushed out of the University. The consequent effect on a number of Boston families probably lost to Presi-

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dent Hill whatever measure of good will might have come from them, and may have influenced the reform movement which was to come the next year. Furthermore the incident was reflected subconsciously between President and Corporation, all of whose members were of Boston stock, and strained a relationship already formal. It may also have been heightened, during the course of negotiations, by Judge Hoar's explosion when he found that President Hill had long known of Eliot's stand, but was still trying to have him accept an offer to remain. T h e story of Hoar's resentment, however, seems to have grown with the years, for the next year Hoar placed the utmost confidence in President Hill by asking him to draw up and present the Corporation's views before the legislative hearing of April 20, 1864 on the proposed separation of Harvard from the state, a project in which he had the greatest interest; nor did he resign from the Corporation until January, 1868. Nevertheless President Hill and the governing boards of the University lived in two worlds apart. H e felt it the duty of his position to carry out the decisions of the Corporation rather than to initiate its measures. Where later Eliot drove ahead, Hill suggested rather than insisted. Thus by a mingling of varied, yet related, circumstances it was the Corporation, not the President, who were addressed in February, 1865, by the committee of

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parents and guardians as best suited to institute changes in the undergraduate course. In addition to the parents' insistence on a scholastic reform, this was also a movement for administrative reform. A t first the parents' committee saw only immediate possibilities. In order to change the system of studies and to take the entire control of discipline out of the College Faculty, they wanted to give greater power to the President and to the older professors. President Hill freely admitted that in regard to the College Faculty he was unable to produce harmony in such a large group whose views were not always in accord. This was one of the difficulties which the proponents of reform sought to remedy, but they placed the emphasis on the professors as much as on the President. Expanding the scope of this suggestion, Hill brought before the Academic Council in July, 1865, a plan for centralizing authority in the President with some check on his actions through a veto by the Faculty. Apparently, too, he kept referring to the matter in individual conversations during the summer. Such are the natural inferences from an anonymous letter, endorsed in Hill's handwriting as from " f i v e professors," opposing the suggestion on the ground that such an arrangement would only lessen the President's prestige by making him dependent on the Faculty, and the presidential

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action would become looked on as his personal action. It might work for one president and not for another. " A law," the letter stated, " m u s t provide for the future and its possibilities." Evidently it was the advice of friends who saw, as Hill could not see, the difficulties he was facing. This proposal for centralization was also a result of President Hill's desire to depart from the path of traditional student discipline. Before accepting the position he had considered petty a system which made the President little more than the head of the college police, and which referred the minutest infraction of the rules to the Faculty for action. Nevertheless, having come to Harvard from a sense of duty to his alma mater, Hill could not resign because of it as Everett and Sparks had done, and he refused to do so when Antioch was to reopen after the Civil War. A t Harvard studies and discipline had long been connected, even to the names of the committee on those subjects, and the rules of the Faculty presupposed inherent student deviltry. It is true that college students were of present high-school age, and that they might be more mature when entering college was one reason why Hill wished to add a year to the admission requirements. But instead of making the problems of college discipline the main subject of his annual reports, as did Acting President Andrew Preston Peabody both in 1861 and in 1869, President Hill

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brought in another view. In his first report, dated January, 1864, he wrote: " T h e discipline of the College during the year was, as the undersigned is assured, as good as in the preceding year. That there should be some immorality and misbehavior among a body of eight hundred men gathered about a University is to be expected; but after a year's observation, the President is convinced that the reports of evil among them are frequently exaggerated, and that the amount of sterling worth and steadfast fidelity is seldom reported." Nevertheless in September came the row over hazing which set the community by the ears and resulted in a general dissatisfaction with the College as a whole. Although he thus defended them in the face of all tradition, nevertheless to the students President Hill as a person was virtually unknown. In a diary covering a year and a half, one of them mentioned him just four times amid a gala feast of girls and good times: once going " t o see the P r e x " for permission to be absent; a second time, "Lecture by Dr. Hill, very d r y . " ; and two other notations at the time of Mrs. Hill's death. There were a few who transgressed the bounds of student approbation and found the President a very human man. Of the class of '66, Drone, Derby, and Hawes helped him set out the ivy and creepers around the Library and Boylston Hall; and Welles found the President not so fierce as was commonly imagined.

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Once when Welles went to his uncle for an excuse for " a sort of a cold" that had made him cut classes, the good doctor sought to teach him a lesson, and told him to go to see the President, saying that he was a very hard hearted man (knowing President Hill's proverbial kindness) and warning him to be honest. In the afternoon Welles returned with a note from the President, somewhat as follows: " D e a r Dr. Walcott: This young man came to me and told me he was in trouble under the Faculty. He seemed an innocent boy enough, though of not much use to the college, and I incautiously got him to the window and took a paper knife to hold his tongue while I looked at his throat. I am afraid I have injured his tonsils. Will you please attend to him and send the bill to me." If it now seems strange for the President to have dealt with trivial incidents, it was then part of the system which made him the center of every detail of administration, from answering the letters of prospective students to granting excuses to delinquents. Yet in every case President Hill introduced a personal note which few other presidents had, for he held at once the loftiest ideals for the University and a homely kindliness toward each of its individuals. Again President Hill's difficulties can be traced to his kind and unassuming character. Thus he

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was blind to the traditions and usages of the College, and accepted its tokens in perfect faith. If, when he read one of his own poems during a lecture on education or on conduct, the students murmured, "Beautiful, beautiful!" he could not realize that the traditions of student-lore made them only mock him. He infused the office of President with his own personality, yet those who expected the formalism of tradition saw the incongruities of a personality but not those of the tradition; those who knew him saw the simple dignity of a natural Christian believer. In these six years there appear two forces which were separated by the diameter of a circle. One was the tradition of an old established institution and society, of whose strength he was only imperfectly aware; the other lay in the personality of an earnest and modest seeker for the best in education, in Christian brotherhood, and in man. If to posterity President Hill's administration should appear colorless or gray, it is nevertheless radiant from beneath with the gold of idealism and the purple of his exquisitely simple and kindly nature. Still other events lay beyond the bounds of opposing forces. It was a happy gathering in that home on Quincy Street when Mrs. Hill and the five children sat down to dinner in the President's house on Thanksgiving Day, 1862. During term-time

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Agassiz, Peirce, Sibley, and D r . P e a b o d y were frequent visitors there, and the Presidenti urned from the cares of administration to e n j o y his family. W i t h his usual a c t i v i t y he devised a system of mirrors to reflect light on their ill-planned stairway, and began to spade a new garden for his own pleasure. So, w i t h the happiness of M r s . Hill and their growing children, it was a modest and cheerful home. T h e n , on M a r c h 19, 1864, t w o weeks after the birth of a son, M r s . H i l l died. F r o m an acquaintance w h o had first k n o w n the family at A n t i o c h came a tribute of dear friendship: . . . I was not obliged to learn to know your wife; I knew her at first sight. Her overflowing kindness, her tremulous sensitiveness, her rare tenderness delicacy and refinement, her prudence, her patience, her quiet energy, her love of the beautiful, her appreciation of the ludicrous, her insight into persons, her wisdom as a counsellor, her justice, her faithful speaking of the truth in love, the sweet serenity of her temper, her deep Christian faith, her broad Christian sympathies, her high Christian life, — all of these and a certain unanalyzable something else (which may have been herself and not her qualities) seemed to flash themselves at once upon my "inward eye," . . . From first to last she gave me a friendship as deep and generous as her nature; — for this, I have always been and shall always be proudly, humbly grateful. Such an unexpected tragedy brought an emptiness to t h a t home t h a t had been g a y at heart, and m a d e

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it seem less bright even at its most cheery times. Still in many little and many great ways friends helped to lessen the loss more deeply felt when such an unassuming and almost unrealized energy had passed away. Perhaps the greatest of these friends was Lucy Elizabeth Shepard, one who had studied with President Hill at Antioch and was then teaching at the Cambridge Latin School. She was both young enough and old enough to be loved by the children, and had genius enough as teacher and student to be a true intellectual companion to President Hill. With unselfish devotion she shouldered the care of six children and a large part of the family responsibilities. It was the same spirit which at Antioch had led her to give all her savings to help others who were struggling for an education. She might have been, as her niece was years later, the living model for Abbott Thayer's " Caritas," for she was an embodiment of love. Lucy Shepard was then twenty-eight, the daughter of Otis and Ann (Pope) Shepard of Dorchester. At first it hardly occurred to President Hill that she should take his wife's place, yet no one was better fitted with a store of energy, genius of intellect, and Christian simplicity. On July 23, 1866, they were married; but within a year she became mortally ill. It was again a tragedy which perhaps none could have foreseen, but whatever had made her a prodigy of

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learning and an example of Christian love had also affected her emotional stability, and she became the subject of a mental disease which held no hope for cure. T o President Hill this care and anxiety so added to the loss of his first wife that he bent, almost broke, under the strain. His health had already been undermined by the worries at Antioch and by the difficulties of administration at Harvard. Still he refused to take a vacation offered and urged upon him by friends in the West, and by July, 1868, he was both physically and mentally exhausted. His physician and friend, Dr. Morrill W y m a n , who understood his troubles at home and in the University, advised him to ask the Corporation for a leave of absence, and, with Mrs. Hill, to get away from Cambridge and recuperate. But when the President showed him the letter which he intended to send, Dr. W y m a n saw that it implied a resignation. T o his question the President replied that he would rather trust to the kind feelings of the Corporation than ask directly for an extended vacation of six or eight months. W y m a n shook his head, advising that before sending such a letter Hill should consult his friends and make his position more clear. On September 13 President Hill preached his first sermon of the term, but on the nineteenth he sent a note to the Corporation: " I n pursuance of a resolution to which I

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have been for many months reluctantly coming, I hereby resign. . . . " President Hill stepped out of office on September 30, 1868, and soon afterward the family moved again to the little house on Church Street in Waltham. I a m n o t sorry [Hill w r o t e to Susan S m i t h , one of the most understanding of W a l t h a m friends], I am glad. . . . M r s . H i l l and I c a m e here on the 7th. A f o r t n i g h t ' s W a l t h a m air has effected an almost miraculous improvem e n t in her h e a l t h , — m a y the dear G o d m a k e it perm a n e n t . She walks and talks, and reads and sews, fifty n a y a hundred times as well as she could a fortnight since and seems m u c h better than at a n y time for nearly two years.

During the winter Mrs. Hill taught Latin to one of the daughters in her own thorough and inspiring way. In one morning she read one hundred and fifty lines of Greek without a lexicon because she had accidentally come across a book which she had never read in that language. In December a son was born; " G o d has given me back my powers," she said, " b u t I have not strength to take them up," and on February 9, 1869, she died. For well over four of the six years of his administration President Hill thus lived in the shadow of family affliction which in the end forced him to give up. With the lives of Anne Bellows Hill and L u c y Shepard Hill ending one so suddenly and the other

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in such prolonged tragedy, his own energy and vigor were taken away. He was only fifty at the time of leaving office; yet, from an erect and young-looking man, he had already become bowed and his reddish hair had turned almost gray. During his term at Harvard President Hill received many honors, among them the degree of Doctor of Laws from Yale in 1863. Other events, not so connected with the President himself, belong more properly to the history of the University than to the record of an episode in that history. Grays Hall was erected in 1863; among other benefactions Nathaniel Thayer provided funds in 1864 to start a students' dining association; Professor Louis Agassiz was largely responsible for the establishment of the Mining School and the SturgisHooper Professorship; in 1865 Judge Hoar and William A. Richardson, the classmate who had worked with Agassiz in securing Hill as President, were prime movers in securing the separation of Harvard from legislative control and in establishing the alumni election of Overseers; in 1866 the Peabody Museum was founded; leaders in the Massachusetts Dental Society founded the Dental School in 1867; and in 1868 negotiations were going forward to establish the Bussey Institute. While President Hill had little more than an official part in the majority of these undertakings, nevertheless, in seeking as an ultimate goal his ideal of a univer-

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sity, he left a mark on Harvard which became the basis of its future leadership, a mark intangible but none the less real. No one was better qualified than President Hill to head the University at a time when the interests of religion, classical learning, and scientific progress had to be compromised. The reform of higher education was inevitable. As a step in that direction progressive teachers like Agassiz and Peirce formulated the system of University Lectures, supported elective studies, and advocated that the class system and recitations be abolished. All these reforms in the course of time became popular. Similarly, just as the choice of a progressive as president reflected the strength of new ideas with which the old had to compromise, so his term of office encouraged their growth. Just as experiments in cooperation — the University Lectures and the Academic Council — eventually failed because they depended on an enthusiasm not yet sufficiently awakened, so did the changes in undergraduate studies succeed because they were the first fruits of a rising popular interest. This was partly the result of a general concern for education, heightened by the ending of the Civil War, and partly the unconscious development, in many phases, of a conflict of President Hill's personality with tradition. It was a success unrecognized within the sense of impending change which it had

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itself brought about. Indeed, with Eliot's return, the feeling that President Hill had failed became more deeply rooted — a feeling which in the shadow of his own fresh sorrow caused him to write to an old friend and confidant at Waltham: " I am thankful that you remember good of me and not evil. The evil that I do, the good that I leave undone, haunt me a great deal, and I do not feel that I can give a good account of my stewardship." Although he consciously felt miscast as an administrator and restrained by an established system, President Hill's efforts suffered most because he was a leader, one ahead of his time and consequently ahead of popular support. With his ideas for higher education still being formulated, with the opposition of tradition, and with his own family troubles, he had little opportunity to develop or to reiterate these ideas. If he has succeeded it is because the fruits of his leadership have been finally accepted. He took the already growing idea of the University and made it into an ideal which comprehended education as a whole, with graduate schools contributing to the store of man's knowledge, and with the work of the College as a transition between early education and later scholarship. As graduate studies and fellowships, the three-year course, the elective system, a rational student discipline, and raised admission

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standards have come to pass, so too it may become fully recognized that " the problem in education is to devise a plan by which each student shall have his powers of perception and imagination and reason aroused to activity upon every subject."

Chapter VII RENEWED E N E R G Y HE story of the next four years is one of renewed health and vigor. In retiring to Waltham Dr. Hill again entered the life which he had reluctantly abandoned to go to Antioch. Although hard work was out of the question, he began in November, 1868, to preach somewhere every Sunday, depending entirely on his old sermons. It was spring before he really felt strong enough to undertake even the least mental or physical labor, but in February, after his wife's last sickness finally lifted the need of constant care, the results of a complete rest soon began to show. B y the middle of March he could again look forward to fresh activities, for he wrote at that time, " I t seems quite like old times to go to School Committee meetings, and that's just where I've been. I am elected for two years, and hope I may be able to do something for the city in that time." In M a y he visited Frank Hill at Yellow Springs and travelled as far west as the R o c k y Mountains, returning to delight friends at Waltham with his stories and to work a little more in his garden. Then in July his son Harry, just graduated from Harvard, sailed for a year's

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s t u d y of chemistry in G e r m a n y , and on the eighteenth D r . Hill w r o t e his first letter to Berlin : I was excessively tired when the Silesia moved off, and hurried to get on board the Providence. We have been counting your miles across the ocean ever since, and sympathizing with you in your seasickness, homesickness, and a«£?«-sickness. I have done a gewaltig sight of work since reaching home on Wednesday morning, on the School Committee, and in the garden. Tom Egan helped me one day and three quarters, viz. on Thursday and Saturday. When he came back Saturday morning he looked at what I had done and asked, " D i d you have a man to help you yesterday?" I said no, when he exclaimed with great unction, " B y mighty! but you did a great day's work!" I received yesterday morning a funny letter from Frank C. Hill upbraiding me for not sending him the reduction of my observations at his front door [in preparation for the coming solar eclipse], so this morning I reduced them and have put them in an envelope. This mathematical work combined with the extra amount of school work yesterday has brought back a return of my dizziness, — not badly. The coming week is full of school meetings and school examinations, and I fear I shall get little time for gardening and still less for boating, though I want very much to herborize on the Charles again. Starting w i t h a trip to Illinois to v i e w the total eclipse of A u g u s t 7, 1869, D r . Hill travelled interm i t t e n t l y about the country for several months, aided by railroad passes from his friends, and ex-

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pense m o n e y generously supplied b y M r s . L y m a n . A t the end of A u g u s t he spent a d a y at S u t t o n , Massachusetts, viewing the prospects for his cranberry crop, and the next week, w i t h F r e d K n a p p and others, he w e n t to examine the E a g l e s w o o d tract at W e s t Creek, N e w Jersey, in which he w a s part owner. T o c a p the climax came a long trip to the Pacific C o a s t in response to a continued invitation from George F r o s t , a former school teacher at W a l t h a m and now purchasing agent for the Union Pacific Railroad, w h o m H i l l had already visited at O m a h a in M a y . A g a i n his letters, full of details t h a t his children might e n j o y , reveal a profound interest in nature and a bent for scientific inquiry: Down the Sierra we came into rain, and then into clear sky. Trees, bushes, herbs, weeds, all new. Took a stroll into a "pasture primeval" under gigantic white oaks scattered about, while the passengers lunched. Found the pasture not dry grass as I had supposed, but covered with various strange weeds, mostly dry, but some, looking dry, really fresh, and covered with minute lilac flowers, giving in places quite a lilac tinge to the whole field. [In San Francisco.] It cleared off magnificently this morning and I went out and met Howe of '64 and Stetson of '63. Johnson of '69 called on me yesterday. I feel that my journey is doing me great good, and I only fear lest I receive too many attentions here. [October 27.] I have been having a very delightful time here for eight days past. This morning I met the

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fellow of 1842 w h o was m o n i t o r to us of '43 when we were Fresh. E v e r y b o d y is a t t e n t i v e and kind to me, and t h e y t a k e m e to drive and to walk and show me all the lions in the most courteous w a y . W h a t lions h a v e I seen? A Chinese Josh house, which is a c a r a v a n s a r y in its lower stories full of w e a r y travellers, and a highly o r n a m e n t e d shrine in its attic w i t h a handsome idol in it, before which a l a m p is ever burning night and d a y ; . . . 7 t h , w e n t all through the mint and saw the mechanical and chemical operations; . . . 14th, d r o v e o u t to the sea and s a w a herd of a hundred h u g e seals with their y o u n g ones, crawling and climbing and growling and m o a n i n g and barking within one eighth of a mile from the p i a z z a where y o u sit, so t h a t with an opera glass y o u can see the v e r y beard on their chins; . . . and 1 7 t h , visited the D r y D o c k d u g out o f a ledge of solid serpentine and tight as a d r u m . T h e y were j u s t e m p t y ing it, and lots of fish were there, and there were t w o w h i c h I called little flounders, but the men said t h e y were y o u n g halibut, so I took them and a dozen other little fellows t h a t would soon perish in the air, and filled a wide m o u t h eight oz. vial w i t h them and alcohol to t a k e to A g a s s i z . [October 31.] I reached S a c r a m e n t o F r i d a y noon a n d a f t e r dinner went to N e w c a s t l e . T h e bedrooms in the little t a v e r n were separated o n l y b y board partitions, with cracks and knot holes in them, and the partitions were only seven feet high. T h e r e were no ceilings, and I could see out of holes in the wall and cracks in the roof, right to the stars. Y e s t e r d a y morning I m o u n t e d a little M e x i c a n p o n y , w i t h a M e x i c a n saddle and stirrups, and rode all alone about seven miles, t h r o u g h the wonderf u l l y wild remains of placer mining, thro' a forlorn little mining village called R a t t l e s n a k e , o v e r a suspension

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bridge over the wild American River, to a cave in a hill of white marble. The cave was 340 feet deep and 215 feet high, though in places the roof came down low enough to be touched by your hand. When it was first discovered ten years ago it was very beautiful, adorned with white or transparent stalactites above and stalagmites below, and a very curiously and quaintly sculptured roof and walls. But thoughtless visitors have now broken it a good deal, and it has been smoked and tarnished by pitch-pine fires and by kerosene lamps. The man who shows it lighted it for me with forty candles, but I made him blow them all out and send his boy for some looking glasses. With them I turned the sunlight in, to the man's great astonishment, and lighted his cave for him more elegantly than it had ever been lighted before. "And then," said he, "so cheap!" B y Thanksgiving Dr. Hill was again at Waltham, swinging Indian clubs every morning, and becoming more vigorous in body and in mind. For part of his income he tutored a Harvard freshman whose greatest fault was laziness, " a l w a y s unpunctual, and coming with the funniest excuses for not appearing." He enjoyed several short trips to Walpole and a tour of the White Mountains to Littleton, but his greatest delight was in his renewed intellectual effort. In 1870 he contributed articles on mathematics, science, and religion to the newspapers and to the Religious Magazine and Monthly Review, and in December he gave the Lowell Institute Lectures in Boston on " N a t u r a l Sources of Theology." Still the management of

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all this rather wearied him. A s he w r o t e to H a l in Berlin, I do wish you were here to consult about business matters. I always leaned a great deal on your mother's judgment, and now I have no one to lean on but Chap [his cousin Elizabeth Chapman, who was living with them] and Auntie [the favorite name of the Hill family for their close friend and neighbor, Mrs. Horatio Adams] and one I don't depend on much for judgment and the other I don't like to bother about new fences, and asparagus beds, and pear trees, and church pews, and gravestones, and magazine articles and Lowell Lectures, and cranberry stock, and so on ad infinitum. O n c e a month on T h u r s d a y s a club of scientists, among them Agassiz, Peirce, G i b b s , L o v e r i n g , B o w e n , and R a p h a e l P u m p e l l y met at the house of one of their number. H e r e D r . Hill filled his cup of thought to the brim, and wrote of one of their meetings : Afterward Ben Peirce was telling me of his triple, quadruple, quintuple, and sextuple algebras. Quaternions is a true quadruple algebra because it contains four kinds of units, viz. units of length, breadth, thickness, and ratio, which is number. I got so interested in hearing what Benny said that I forgot my train, and rushed out of Gibbs' house at 11: 23 in the vain hope of intercepting the 1 1 : 1 5 train at Mount Auburn. Of course I didn't do it, but reached Mt. Auburn bridge at 1 1 : 4 2 in a fine sweat, took the horse car three minutes afterward to Watertown, and walked up. I reached home at ten minutes to one and slipped up to bed so

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quietly that no one heard me. I feel none the worse for my debauch; on the contrary I think the sweat did me good, and I feel ten years younger this morning. So went the year 1870, and when the Lowell Lectures were over his friend Agassiz spurred Hill on to new efforts, writing in J a n u a r y , 1871 : I have lately thought of you more frequently and more lovingly than ever, under the impression that now you have another opportunity of doing great things and that you are not going to allow it to pass away without improving it. Our whole school system needs a radical reform. It is altogether a mere machine without soul or spirit in it. The teachers are machinery, and the object taught unworthy of our age. There are no two ways to look at the subject, and with the interest felt by the whole community in matters of education it would not be difficult for you to start a complete reorganisation of the whole system. Will you go to work in earnest and do it? Come and see me; we will put our heads together and try to devise something worthy of the good old Commonwealth. The subject must be in other minds also, judging from an article by H. G. Wilson in the January Atlantic, which by the way I like much. I write abruptly because I cannot apply myself long. But this will be sufficient to start you I hope. It is hard to say what might have been the outcome of this plan. Agassiz undoubtedly felt that it would restore a prestige which the ex-President of H a r v a r d had lost through the difficulties of his administration. Y e t the obstacles in the w a y of a popular acceptance of D r . Hill's theories of educa-

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tion were similar to those which had faced him at Harvard. On the other hand he was one of the foremost exponents of new methods of secondary education, and had already brought the Waltham schools to a high level by the partial application of his principles allowed by the system then in vogue. Furthermore in 1870-71, besides being an Overseer of Harvard, Dr. Hill represented Waltham in the Legislature and was a member of its Committee on Education. What might have been is only conjecture, for at about the same time Professor Peirce, who had become Superintendent of the Coast Survey, and his chief, William A . Richardson, now Secretary of the Treasury, were planning a long and much needed rest for Agassiz, and asked him to take charge of a scientific expedition » which was to steam around Cape Horn to the Pacific Coast. Such a project would of course benefit his Museum of Comparative Zoology, and Agassiz embraced the opportunity. Then at the end of April, Hill received a note from his classmate Secretary Richardson, in part as follows: Thinking it might be useful to you in improving your health to join this expedition, I suggested to Prof. Peirce the expediency of inviting you to be one of the party. If arrangements can be made to take you, I should think Prof. Agassiz and Mrs. Agassiz, who goes also, would be glad of your company, and that the Government might benefit by your services.

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I don't suppose that it would be a very profitable enterprise for you and don't know as the Coast Survey could pay you anything. Perhaps Profs. Peirce and Agassiz could find some way of compensating you so as to make it an object. Soon it was arranged that Dr. Hill should go as botanist, physicist, and photographer. The excitement of preparation for the expedition, which was at first expected to sail in September, and of his inventing experimental apparatus, brought on at the end of August a return of his old weakness, and for two weeks he did not get downstairs. Still the Hassler was not ready: in September he went to New York to make a series of magnetic observations to determine the effect of the iron ship upon its compass; in October he wrote, " D o n ' t know yet when ship'll sail. Hope it will be in a fortnight"; and in November, when the Hassler did arrive in Boston, throngs of interested spectators held up the work of stowing supplies. Dr. Hill's letters to his children reveal him, at the age of almost fifty-four, as do none other of his writings. While in his reports of the expedition's progress written for the newspapers he never mentioned his own part, in his journal and in his letters home, which cover a good two hundred closely written pages, he gave every picturesque detail that others might enjoy. Unconsciously he showed his own interests, writing in his familiar way after eight days of stormy weather off Pernambuco:

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N a n , dear, what do you think of finding little fishes not as big as m y little finger out in fathomless water two hundred miles from shore? H o w do the dear little toads find their way about? And we have seen brown and black porpoises swimming out in mid-ocean. T h e y breathe air, not water, and drown if their noses are held under too long. H o w do they manage in a storm when the sea is all afoam ? H o w are the young ones born and suckled without strangling? I asked Agassiz these questions a day or two ago, and he said, " W h e n I think about such things I have no patience with those who deny or forget the existence of a superintending Wisdom governing all these matters. I can only be dogmatic and say the presence of such Wisdom is manifest." T h e s t o r y of t h e v o y a g e b e g i n s w i t h D r . H i l l ' s o w n d e s c r i p t i o n of its p u r p o s e in a l e t t e r t o a n o t h e r of his y o u n g d a u g h t e r s , l e f t a t h o m e u n d e r t h e c a r e of M i s s C h a p m a n : T h e Coast Survey are j u s t finishing a new iron ship for use in the survey of the Pacific Coast. Of course she has to sail round South America. All t h a t time would be wasted but the Survey tells the officers to make scientific observations on the way, and to m a k e those observations worth more, p u t M r . and Mrs. Agassiz, Professor Steindachner, Count Pourtales, &c, &c, on board to assist in the work, and gives them leave to detain the ship any reasonable time to make observations. We go prepared to dredge in the deepest waters of the ocean and fetch u p mud and living creatures from the bottom and bring a b u n d a n t specimens home. M r . Nathaniel T h a y e r gives $20,000 to be used in the expedition. We take thermometers and measure the temperature of the

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water on the surface and all the way down. We take instruments to measure how deep light penetrates in the ocean, and how deep under water the chemical rays will act on a plate. Also to get the specific gravity of the water at various places. Also to measure the density of various gases in the water. Also to make photographic pictures when we land. Also to gather plants, insects, and animals on shore. Also to observe zodiacal light with spectroscopes. But the principal work is on heat, light, and chemical forces in the deep sea and animals from deep sea bottom. Expect first to work in the tropical seas, then go down and land in Patagonia, spend some time in the Straits of Magellan, and work up as far north in the Pacific as we have time to do. Expect to leave the vessel finally in August at San Francisco and come home by Pacific R.R. A t last, on December 4, 1 8 7 1 , the Hassler steamed out of Boston harbor into the teeth of a storm and rounded Cape Cod. T w o days later Dr. Hill wrote from Vineyard H a v e n , at that time known as Holmes' Hole: After a hard days work we rearranged and repacked all our apparatus, material, and tackle, and stowed it away in good order for sea, hoping it may never have such a rough sea as that around Cape Cod. By the Daily Advertiser you will see that the Hassler was the only vessel reported as leaving the port of Boston on Monday. This day has not been lost as this repacking could not be done until we were quietly out of reach of visitors, had to be done sometime, and could not be done at sea. We swing ship for compass in the morning and then

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steam first for M o n t a u k Point, then straight for St. Thomas.

A t St. Thomas they stopped nearly a week for engine repairs, but again, off Montserrat, a feed pipe burst and the Hassler headed for Barbados, where they stayed for another five days. Here Dr. Hill made the first experiments with his own apparatus. On Saturday, D a y , White, myself, and four sailors leaped into a whale boat, rowed nearer land into about one hundred fathom of water, and there let down two of m y porcelain plates. W e were delighted to find the method perfectly practicable and we took seven measures of the transparency of the water in that place which agreed well with each other. I however became very seasick with the dancing of the little boat, and so we contented ourselves with seven measures and then went back to the ship. Our deepest measure was only ninetyone feet deep, and I had no right to be disappointed in two things. First, down to the depth of ninety feet no variation was detected for the laboratory law that passage through one fathom of water takes off a given percentage of the light, bright or dim. Secondly, that this water which seemed so very blue and transparent was really so opaque, only eighty per cent of the light getting through a fathom, which would give us the darkness of star-light at about 180 to 200 fathoms. T h i s page is of course not to be made public, — ask H a l to please say nothing of the results. W e m a y hereafter find clearer water and make more careful measurements, and the results at any rate belong to Prof. Peirce, not to me. B u t I wrote to Auntie A d a m s "cock-a-doodle-doo" be-

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cause the method of measurement proves entirely practicable, and there can be no question that we shall get v e r y valuable results from it in the Pacific Ocean. W e don't expect to do anything in the Atlantic but to make the best of our w a y to the Straits of Magellan. Well, when we got back to the ship they all crowded u p and asked what results. White and D a y answered, " T h e Doctor is too sea sick to say much, but we will crow for him. I t is a beautiful process and perfectly successful, and the D o c t o r will have a right to crow loudly when he recovers his sea legs." T h e Governor, who had known Agassiz in England nearly thirty years ago, took Agassiz and Mrs. A . to his home. H e is an amateur collector of shells and has a very fine collection. So to please the Governor, but more to try the machinery, we took the Governor on board about 4 ! o'clock, and while we were at dinner the vessel steamed out of the harbor and went some five or six miles to Sandy B a y . There in the bright moonlight they cast the dredge in about eighty or one hundred fathoms water. T h e dredge is a net with fine meshes enclosed in a canvas bag open at the bottom and fastened at the top to a strong iron frame about three feet long and eighteen inches wide. This is dragged on the bottom and then pulled up. Four hauls were made and they were exceedingly rich in new kinds of sponge and coral and creatures of various kinds. Agassiz said there was enough brought up in those four hauls to keep them profitably at work in the museum studying animals for a year.

On the evening of December 31 the Hassler again set off for Rio de Janeiro. For the next eight days

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it w a s b u f f e t e d and blown a b o u t , until, as D r . H i l l w r o t e , t h e y were all " n o t only a s h a m e d of l i v e l y P e g g y ' s b e h a v i o r b u t f a i r l y sick of i t . " T h e n f o r more than three weeks t h e y l a y at R i o to repair a l e a k y superstructure. T h e r e w a s thus ample time to g o inland, and while he w r o t e of these t r a v e l s to his children in m i n u t e detail, those m a n y pages are all s u m m a r i z e d in w h a t he w r o t e to his brother: I have enjoyed the time very much, busy with pressing and drying seaweed and with photographing live animals in the water. I have also taken two excursions into the country, one of which gave me 140 miles by railroad and about 160 by stage and 15 by steamboat, going through a wild Catawissa and Adirondack looking country, — mountains rather higher than the White Hills and more jagged and peaked. I saw hills far too steep to plough entirely covered with coffee plantations, also orchards of oranges and of figs, and hedges of tea in bloom. I ate figs to satiety, and returned in a few hours to eat again. I saw myriads of wild flowers of several hundred varieties, and recognised only those which I had known in hot house culture, most frequently not even recognising the family of the flowers. The beauty and richness of my tour oppresses me with a sense that I am not worthy to enjoy it all. The world is more beautiful and lovely than I could imagine. In the West Indies I was disappointed because tropical vegetation did not seem as luxuriant as I anticipated; here the surprise is the other way, there seem to be few fungi in the woods here and their place is taken by a great variety of beautiful flowering orchids, epiphytic on the trees. In a garden of eighty acres beautifully iaid

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o u t at Juiz de F o r a , a b o u t 91 miles in an air line, inward f r o m R i o , Senor M a r i c a n o , or Senor L a g e (for in Brazil y o u call a m a n b y a n y one of his names; y o u for example would be called M r . John, or M r . B a r k e r , more freq u e n t l y than M r . Hill) has hedged a long w a l k with branches of trees, and covered those branches with a v a r i e t y of e p i p h y t i c orchids. I think I saw seven kinds in flower last week, and m a n y kinds not in flower. A t Petropolis (the c o u n t r y residence of the E m p e r o r , thirty-one miles in air line from R i o , forty-three by railroad, s t e a m b o a t , and stage; situated at an altitude of 2,500 feet a b o v e the harbor, — all of which ascent is m a d e in seven miles of turnpike, a d v a n c i n g y o u a b o u t one and a half miles horizontally amid grand p e a k s towering thousands of feet a b o v e the village) where I spend S u n d a y , I saw m y first carnival. I d o n ' t care to see a n y m o r e ; I did not g o ashore last night to see the greatest. Y o u remember F o u r t h of J u l y in N e w B r u n s w i c k , a b o u t 1828 or '30, carriages, ships, etc. in a procession? Well, c o v e r them with flags of all nations, let the people on them and in them be dressed like clowns and w e a r ridiculous m a s k s and m a k e unseemly gestures and sing and p l a y lively tunes, — that was S u n d a y afternoon in Petropolis. T h e v i e w from the top of the hill as y o u begin t h a t seven miles of 350 feet descent to the mile is wonderf u l l y fine, v e r y far exceeding the v i e w from the west ridge of the H o o s a c in M a s s a c h u s e t t s . Y o u look d o w n a deep ravine whose sides seem to tower high a b o v e y o u , and which appears to end in a sudden precipice half w a y d o w n the m o u n t a i n . T h r o ' this wide, deep v i s t a y o u first see a plain, dotted w i t h little hills, stretching o u t fifteen miles southerly. T h e n comes the g r e a t harbor of R i o , stretching out fifteen miles f u r t h e r , and ending in a

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narrow strait to the ocean close behind the city. I saw i,t on two mornings and one evening, and think it the finest view of the kind I ever saw, excepting perhaps Lake Champlain and the Adirondacks seen from the Vermont hills. When I returned from this trip I found the repairs had proceeded much faster than was anticipated, and the vessel goes to sea now in a few minutes, — three or four days sooner than we feared. T h e y sailed from Rio on February 14, 1872. After coaling at Montevideo they steamed into lonely San Matias Gulf, passed through the Straits of Magellan, and visited Robinson Crusoe's island, Juan Fernandez. T h e y explored glaciers and craters, gathered specimens, and dredged and measured the ocean depths, and stopped at Chilean ports for coal and supplies. Dr. Hill soon left the difficult wet-plate process of photography to Dr. White, of the ship's staff, and to the artist, J. Henry Blake, but unfortunately their efforts were often ruined by the climate and by the " l i v e l y P e g g y . " Mr. Blake, who is probably the only member of the expedition now living, still counts it a high point in his life. " I was then only twentysix years old," he says, " j u s t old enough to want to learn, and I found in Dr. Hill (whom I had seen only ex-officio when he was President and I was a student at the Lawrence Scientific School) one who was a most companionable teacher. In the evenings we used to sit on deck while he pointed out the

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constellations and described their movements, and although I was then thirty or more years younger than he, I think we were together most of the time." While the ship's company played at cards, Dr. Hill wrote a journal and long letters to his children. By June the Hassler arrived at Payta, on the coast of Peru, to coal for the long trip to the Galapagos and thence to Panama. This part of the voyage Dr. Hill was to recall again and again. His journal of the nine days at the Galapagos Islands was a text from which for twenty years he was to preach unceasingly against the Darwinian concept of evolution through gradual change. Of that archipelago, about which Darwin had written in the Voyage of the Beagle, nothing could be more descriptive than what Dr. Hill wrote, appealing to the imagination of his eight-year-old son: You don't know what the Galapagos are, do you? They are some islands very far out in the ocean. I t is six or seven hundred miles to the nearest land, and it takes a good fast ship going as fast as it can about three days and three nights to come from the nearest part of America. I t took the Hassler four days to come here. There are five pretty big islands here and a parcel of little ones. The largest island would reach from Waltham to Walpole or to Springfield, and it has five large mountains on it and a great many hills. These islands lie on the Equator; that means that for half the year the sun is on the south side of you at noon, as it is at Waltham, and for the other half the year the sun is on the north side of you as it is in the Straits of Magellan.

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The Galapagos are all volcanic; that means that all the mountains and hills on them were once burning mountains and red hot melted stones and rocks came boiling up out of them. This was a great many years ago, and the stones and rocks are cold now. On some of the rocks plants began to grow. These rocks were melted a great great many years ago, but still you can see that all the rocks on these islands have been hot and melted once. They do not look at all like the rocks and stones at Waltham. They are black and full of bubbles and of smooth glossy looking places. Get Kitty to show you a smooth glossy black clinker from the kitchen stove or from the furnace if she was unfortunate as to make such clinkers. Or ask Mr. Egan to get you such a clinker, sometime when he sees one anywhere, and that clinker will show you what sort of rocks all these islands are made of.

At sundown on Thursday, June 6, the Hassler set sail from Payta, and on Monday at daybreak sighted Charles Island, where lived an Equadorean colonel in quasi-banishment, an Englishman, and half a dozen peons. There the party explored and collected, and on Tuesday Dr. Hill wrote in his journal: It was a charming day, thermometer at 80° F . , the ocean of a wonderful clear blue, the sky with everchanging clouds in the morning, but cloudless before noon. The waves breaking against the almost black lava rocks showed to great advantage. The alternate sunlight and cloud shadows, wandering over the gray shrubbery and red and black rocks of the hillsides, produced sometimes picturesque, sometimes beautiful effects. We reached the

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ship a little before three o'clock. I put my plants into safety between driers, and then got out a new apparatus which I had invented and made to test the transparency of the water. Then I helped Doctor Steindachner washing and pickling his fish. The artist made some lovely color sketches of several of the more brilliant or remarkable fish. Of some kinds we obtained but a single specimen, and strangely enough one of these was taken by the good Doctor with his hands out of a little pool left by the tide. Of other fish we have, in addition to all that we can eat, more than Agassiz had room for in his alcohol. I told him it was a great surprise to find him with more fish than he wanted. [Thursday, at Albemarle Island] The landing was somewhat difficult; we had to j u m p from the boat to the rocks on which the water was rising and falling, with the waves, three or four feet. A few steps inland brought us to the terrestrial iguanas; a beautiful creature, very closely allied to the aquatic one, which was as abundant in the waters here as at Charles Island. The aquatic are nearly black, with dark crimson sides, and a little black eye like an opossum's; the terrestrial have the fore quarters and head light orange, and a very handsome eye like a toad's. Our observations on the two creatures differ decidedly from Darwin's, made thirty years earlier. We found the land species decidedly larger than the aquatic; he speaks of them as smaller. We found them shy and wild, and disposed to bite severely; he speaks of them as fearless, stupid, and peaceable. We could not see any trace of webfootedness in either; he calls the aquatic kind webfooted. As I came back I took a lizard by the tail and brought him to the ship alive, where the artist painted his portrait. We were on board

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by two o'clock; after that I lay down for a nap, but was soon awakened by the repeated firing of a gun. I went on deck and found the good Doctor [Steindachner] in a state of suppressed grief and indignation at something, he would not say what; the captain was not so reticent, he expressed his mind loud enough to be heard. It seems that some young men attached to the ship had been firing at any bird that came along, in mere wantonness. What a contrast between the spirit of these young men, and that of Agassiz and of my dear Doctor! When the latter handed over my iguana to the artist to have his picture painted, he took the beastie by the hand and said good bye, and with a half playful, half serious feeling offered to kiss its head. I t seems to pain him to kill the creatures which he wishes to study. He and Agassiz and I are the only ones, I believe, on shipboard who think snakes, lizards, and iguanas beautiful. S u c c e s s i v e l y t h e y visited J a m e s , J a r v i s , a n d I n d e f a t i g a b l e I s l a n d s , a n d on J u n e 1 7 headed f o r P a n a m a . T e n y e a r s later D r . H i l l said t h a t in the whole ten m o n t h s v o y a g e nothing h a d been more p l e a s a n t , more interesting, or more instructive, a n d w r o t e at the t i m e in his j o u r n a l : In the evening we cross the equator for the third and last time. The moon is bright, and is going round by the south. Shiod bonuml her shadow will no longer annoy me, as for six months past, by trying to unscrew the universe. Nine days and a half in this marvelous archipelago, and how pleasant the memories of these nine days will be! A f t e r a s t a y at P a n a m a the Hassler sounded T a r t a r S h o a l and in S e p t e m b e r finally reached S a n

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Francisco. It had been a long trip. Even Agassiz had lost in that time some of his fervor for the sea, and while at the Galapagos Dr. Hill had written, " D r . Steindachner said yesterday he should be glad when the voyage was over. H e wants to 'go everywhere, stay a good while in each place, see everything, but still get home in a few weeks ' ; and I feel just so." And by the end of September, 1872, he was again home at Waltham, with renewed health and a myriad of memories from another world.

Chapter V i l i CONTRIBUTIONS N THE winter of 1872-73 Dr. Hill enjoyed a rather retired life in quiet and friendly surroundings. For the first time in thirteen years there was no anxiety and no pressure of many things to be done. He owned the house where he had spent the happy years of his pastorate, and needed little more. " I feel quite sure of $ 1500 from Jersey and Mass. cranberries this year," he wrote to Hal, who was now teaching at Harvard, " a n d may get $1800." He went often to Cambridge and Boston, and in November preached at Plymouth for his friend Fred Knapp. Then came an attractive invitation to settle with the First Parish in Portland, Maine, where he had once preached in March, 1867. So on February 3, 1873, he began there a ministry which lasted eighteen years. In this period Dr. Hill produced the fullest exposition of his thought upon the questions of science, education, and religion. His interest in these can be traced from boyhood. The Sunday afternoon arguments of his father had inclined the boy toward rational thinking, and the number of the-

I

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I95 ological, philosophical, and scientific works at hand stimulated a devouring desire to read. Of his own intellectual development Hill wrote in the Forum for December, 1887: My father was exceedingly interested in books, particularly in those bearing on natural sciences, politics, and theology. . . . During my apprenticeship in the newspaper office . . . Doddridge's Rise and Progress was placed in my hands. I suppose that certain intellectual books aided the effect of these moral and religious influences. I remember the distinct consciousness of expansion, of a growth in intellectual power, arising from my grappling with Playfair's Euclid and Bonnycastle's Algebra. I took to more serious study, and being placed as an apprentice in a druggist and apothecary's shop, employed my evenings, my early mornings, and whatever vacant time I could catch during the day, in more solid reading. Joseph Priestley's theological works and his philosophical discussions of Necessity, Locke's Essay and his Conduct of Human Understanding, and the first volume of sermons by Orville Dewey, were among the most valuable books which I then read. At the age of twenty I determined to leave the apothecary's shop and devote myself to theological study. At that time I was a very confident materialist and sensationist in philosophy, holding to Priestley's views, very slightly influenced by my reading of Locke. The first study to which I now betook myself was the Latin language, and the mere fact of beginning to study a dead language awakened in me a train of thoughts and inquiries that had never been suggested in the reading of any English works. Sallust's Cataline and Jacob's Greek Reader stirred me up to more earnest thinking in one

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year than I had ever dreamed of. I entered college, took the four years there and two years in the divinity school. I cannot remember that in this course of professed study there was any one book which produced a marked effect upon my mind. But the general awakening of thought in various directions had lifted me, even before I entered college, out of my old philosophy. The moment that I began to grapple with philosophical questions in earnest I saw that my extreme confidence in my old views had been altogether unwarranted. I went back to my own original thought, which I distinctly remember having worked out in my eleventh year, without hint or suggestion from any quarter, but which had been overlaid by my subsequent reading of more empirical books. In that first schooling I had begun Euclid. I had asked myself, "What is meant by proving?" Lying on my back, barefooted, on a hot summer afternoon, I had thought out, in my own way, a system of logic based upon the assumption that certain truths are self evident — seen by direct vision. The relation of two such truths to each other is, in some cases, itself a self-evident truth. I did not, like Aristotle, perceive that this self-evident relation of truth to truth might always be considered as either exclusion or inclusion, but I did see that reasoning consists in connecting the conclusion to be proved, with self-evident premises, by a series of self-evident steps. And now, ten years afterward, I saw that every process of reasoning is thus a refutation of the empirical philosophy which I had incautiously, and I might say unconsciously, adopted. At a very early period I became interested in works on teleology and morphology. Paley's Natural 'Theology and the Bridgewater Treatises were my delight, but I took especial satisfaction in Babbage's so-called Ninth

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Bridgewater Treatise. I do not know that any one book has more powerfully affected m y whole mode of thought. I read, while an undergraduate, Auguste Comte's ponderous volumes of the Cours de Philosophie Positive, but I am not aware that they produced any other effect than to convince me more thoroughly that Babbage was right, and Comte wrong, in their methods of interpreting the order of physical nature. T h e work begun in me b y Babbage was pushed forward . . . b y Agassiz's introduction to his Essay on Classification and by Peirce's volume upon Analytical Mechanics. These led me first to see clearly how much stronger the morphological argument is than the teleological.

How great this influence was is shown by the publication in 1849 of a thin volume of forty-eight pages entitled Geometry and Faith: a Fragmentary Supplement to the Ninth Bridgewater "Treatise. Indeed the words of Babbage's preface, " t h e truths of Natural Religion are impressed in indelible characters on every fragment of the material world," became the starting point for Hill's greater correlation of religion and science. Had he been willing to leave theology and forget his already chosen goal, Thomas Hill might well have become one of the great mathematicians of his time. Even as a schoolboy he had led both his class and his teacher in mathematical studies. Later only chance prevented him from becoming a surveyor. A t Harvard came courses and a friend-

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ship with Professor Peirce. Hill computed for him at the Observatory, invented the " occultator " under his eye, read proof for the Cambridge Miscellany, and contributed problems and solutions under the guise of " + · " Hill's accomplishments in pure mathematics show that he had an exceptional ability and explain his later insistence on fundamental mathematical concepts as the basis not only of religious beliefs but of scientific attitudes. The general nature of Dr. Hill's contribution in mathematics may be seen from the few notes which found their way into print. After his graduation from college Hill considered this study purely as a recreation. In prefacing a contribution to the Mathematical Monthly of September, i860, he explained his attitude: " W h i l e acknowledging the justice of remarks in the previous issue on the waste of time involved in rediscovering that which was known centuries ago, I beg permission also to amuse myself with mathematical trifles even when I have not time to look up the results of previous investigations." Similarly he never extended his acquaintance of the subject beyond the general confines of Peirce's influence. T h e development of a rational type of thinking, combined with his extraordinary aptitude for mathematics, made Hill able to follow his teacher's reasoning, and later to untangle the great geometer when he became enmeshed in his own intricacies.

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In the North American Review for J u l y , 1858, H i l l paid tribute to him, and moreover g a v e the k e y to his own t y p e of t h o u g h t : Professor Peirce is distinguished in all his writings, from his Elements of Geometry to his Analytical Mechanics, by a peculiarity in his modes of proof. His demonstrations are always concise, and remarkable for the directness with which they attain their e n d . . . . The representation of reasoning as the process of connecting the truth to be proved, by a series of self-evident steps, with self-evident propositions, has the advantage of including inductive reasoning in natural science, and demonstrative reasoning in mathematics, as well as reasoning upon ordinary subjects. . . . Now the peculiarity of Peirce's mathematical reasoning which gives his demonstrations such exceeding brevity seems to us to consist in his resort to this direct and natural mode of thought, and his freedom from the restraint of conventional forms of demonstration. In Hill's own m a t h e m a t i c a l writings Peirce's influence is readily seen. H i s first book, published in J a n u a r y , 1845, was an arithmetic designed to fill the g a p between preparatory methods and Peirce's own text. While it more properly begins his career as an educator, it also shows the beginning of his insistence on the value of the imagination in m a t h ematics. " T h e present w o r k , " he wrote in his preface, " a i m s rather at the development of ideas, than the inculcation of rules. I t presupposes t h a t the student can cipher, and would only teach him

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how to think, — how to handle the idea of numbers with which he is familiar in the same manner in which he must take up, in higher mathematics, the ideas of space, velocity, etc." Similarly Hill derived added support from Sir William Rowan Hamilton's Lectures on Quaternions, which he reviewed for 'The North American Review in July, 1857, under the title " T h e Imagination in Mathematics." In the same year, and continuing at intervals until 1866, he presented before the American Association for the Advancement of Science a series of mathematical papers. T h e general theme of these investigations, made primarily for his own pleasure, was that which he gave in the first of these papers, " S y s t e m s of Coordinates in One Plane." There he concluded, in summary, " T h u s we have, in one sense, forty-three general systems of coordinates by which we may represent a curve without the use of anything more than ordinary algebra." In The Sequel to "Our Liberal Movement" his friend Joseph Henry Allen wrote in reminiscence of Hill's experimental illustrations of the intimate connection between mathematics and theology: " H e told me how Benjamin Peirce, that prince of mathematicians, in whom imagination and reverence kept pace with all the movements of his thought, found him once engaged in . . . constructions, and being fascinated by the theory, brought

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in Agassiz to see; and Agassiz, his eye being caught by one of the forms, exclaimed, ' W h y that is the very shape taken at one stage of its growth in the nerve-cord of a crab!' . . . He fully believed that the organic world was made up, so to speak, of the realizations of such curves, in infinite variety, from a like formula existing, if I may so express myself, in the mind of God." Akin to such investigations was Hill's interest in astronomy. In 1843 he invented the "occultator," an instrument for calculating eclipses, and in 1876 the "nautrigon," a mechanical apparatus for determining latitude and longitude at sea. These inventions show the latent possibilities had he turned the full force of his intellect to the sciences. What contribution Dr. Hill might have made to mathematics is only conjectural: more widespread, however, were his contributions, to philosophy, education, and theology, built on the foundation of mathesis. Dr. Hill's conception of knowledge and the methods of its attainment was an outgrowth of the driving forces of theology, to which was added his intense interest in mathematics. This fusion led to a logical scheme for the classification of all knowledge, which was, as he wrote, "first perceived by me one night about the first of February, 1843, while attempting to answer a chance question." It considered all learning as science taken in its

The Infinite

Religion,

Spirili a,«

THEOLOGY,

N a t u r a l Theology,

Unlimited W i l l ;

Ethios, •g The Finite Spirit, Λ PSYCHOLOGY, I the S S S Limited Wül ; I I I . . . . . . S . . . .

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Finite "Willi

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MATHEMATICS,

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» the S S g Creatone oí the S A r t ,

4> •2 •f BUSTOa"

I -Esthetics, w •5 M e n t a l Philo5 sopiy,*

S J ¡ Tradee s;

S

The Material World,

ξ Biology, S.

# I Chemistry, « Creations of the J £ Infinite Will; Mechanics, 4

or, The Field of Time and Space in which Creation is wrought ;

Algebra, Arithmetic, Geometry,

THE HIERARCHY OF SCIENCES

I

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The Relations of God to the Human Soul and to Finite Spirits,

Investigation ofparticular Fields oi Religious In· quiry,

Evidences of Chris" tianity, Dogmatic Theology,

Elis Relations to the $ Investigation of particular World and to History. ~ Fields in Natural TheS ology,

The Will and the Ideas of Duty, & c ,

(

The Emotions and Ideas ! of Beauty, &c., The Mind and Ideas of ' Truth, &c.,

Discussions of particular Relations in an Ethical Light, Analysis of particular Classes of Emotions, Metaphysics, Logic,

Law of Nations, Constitutional Law» Jurisprudence, Philology, Rhetoric, Poetpr, Music, Painting, Sculpture, Architecture! Commerce, Manufactures, Agriculture, • · Zoology, Botany, Plants and Animals, or a Matter as living. ! Physiology, Organic Chemistry, , Inorganic Chemistry, Matter as distinguished Electrics, into Kinds. Thermotics, Optics, 1 Matter as the subject of Acoustics, Motions. Dynamics, Statics,

The Attempts of Man to enforce his Ideas on his Fellows. The Use of Symbols to express Ideas. The Materia! World as naturally expressive of Thought and Feeling. The Material World in Material Uses.

History, «β ,t

Sodai Science» Political Economy,

* 4) Ζ Geology,

The Ideas of Time or * ï t e î Î S Â Î Progression. 1 Theory of Equations, Η Theory of Probabilities, Number and Ratio. Theory of Numbers, Space, Distance, and DÌ· reckon*

Theory of Education»

Analytical Geometry, Trigonometiy, Descriptive Geometry, Plane and Solid Geometry

Geography,

Astronomy,

Kinematics, T h e Calculus, Quaternioni, Stigmatica·

From The True Order of Studies (1876 ed.)

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largest sense, t h u s i m p l y i n g a basic scientific attitude for educational procedure.

T h e evolution of

i t s five l o g i c a l d i v i s i o n s w a s e x p l a i n e d b y H i l l i n M a y , 1853, i n

a n

address to the H a r v a r d N a t u r a l

History Society: In the s t u d y of these five sciences, f r o m the M a t h e matics to T h e o l o g y , we build e v e r y w h e r e u p o n t w o sorts of d a t a , one derived from consciousness, the other f r o m observation. In the M a t h e m a t i c s our ideas of T i m e come from consciousness, of S p a c e , from observation. In N a t u r a l H i s t o r y the conception of F o r c e , of cause, of life, is from within us; the p h e n o m e n a are perceived b y sense. In H i s t o r y , we in like m a n n e r j u d g e of causes and m o t i v e s from consciousness, b u t learn f a c t s f r o m testimony. A n d in P s y c h o l o g y and T h e o l o g y , a l t h o u g h the intuitions are the chief sources of k n o w l e d g e , t h e y are nevertheless guided and modified b y our previous a c q u a i n t a n c e w i t h H i s t o r y and N a t u r a l H i s t o r y . . . . T h e five sciences are n a t u r a l l y arranged in this order, in which those least dependent on consciousness are placed first, and those least dependent on observation last. T h i s is the logical order in w h i c h t h e y are to be pursued b y the h u m a n mind. T h e influence of this s y s t e m a t i z i n g of learning was fourfold.

Hill's effort to put into practice the

e d u c a t i o n a l t h e o r y i t i m p l i e d r e s u l t e d in a l i f e l o n g i n t e r e s t in t h e m e t h o d s o f e d u c a t i o n .

Second, when

in t h e P h i B e t a K a p p a O r a t i o n o f 1 8 5 8 , e n t i t l e d " L i b e r a l E d u c a t i o n , " Hill publicly presented this h i e r a r c h y o f sciences a n d his e d u c a t i o n a l

theory,

h e s o w e d the seed w h i c h g r e w into his b e c o m i n g

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President of Antioch and later of Harvard. A third effect was on Hill's attitude toward the controversy between the forces of science and religion, particularly in regard to the Darwinian theory of evolution. Perhaps the greatest of all influences, however, was on Hill's own religious and philosophical beliefs. To quote Professor Christie's Makers of the Meadmlle theological School, Hill's persistent efforts were " for an adequate expression of a theistic faith based on modern science." 1 The fullest development of Hill's educational theory is to be found in The True Order of Studies (1876), a revision, with the same title, of a series of articles first published in 1859 in Henry Barnard's American Journal of Education. In particular he applied this theory to the early school years, although he outlined a curriculum through college. The call to Antioch prevented Hill from completing the series, but in the closing article he pointed out that the true order of studies was not merely a logical plan but a practical one which had already found favor in Waltham. In our scheme of studies we are showing what we consider the natural order of intellectual growth, and the following of this order will simply give the best opportunities for the other kinds of education. Thus intellectually we place the cultivation of the powers of 1 The quotations here and on pp. 223 and 126 are by the courtesy of the Beacon Press, Boston.

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observation first in the scale, preceding that of the inventive and of the reasoning powers. This intellectual order of nature gives the opportunity, in physical education, of keeping the young child out of doors, rambling, under the guidance of the teacher, by the roadside or over the pastures to the benefit of its body as much as of its mind. The same intellectual order gives, in moral education, the opportunity for developing pure tastes, the love of natural beauty, and affording social pleasures of a higher character than in the ordinary plays of the school yard. I t gives also the best opportunity for impressing the young heart with the infinite wisdom and love manifested in the creation. . . . In like manner, the whole arrangement of the intellectual problems placed before the human spirit will be found, if we understand it in its natural order, to be adapted for the appropriate furtherance, at the proper age, of each part of physical, moral, and religious education. Nor . . . should we forget the artistic side; — that is to say, we must remember that skill in expression or action is as desirable as simple power. A man not only needs power, but needs it under control, else it loses its worth. While all studies must be used as a means of developing and guiding some power of action and expression, as well as of understanding, it is perhaps the especial function of the historic studies, of trade, art, language and law, to cultivate the powers of expression; and the teacher must remember to apply them in such a manner as to produce this end. As the bread of the mind is truth, so the bread of the moral nature is action, or expression, and the pupil must be drawn out into expression, not made the mere recipient of instruction. I t does not follow, because we have arranged the five branches of the heirarchy in a certain logical order, with

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Mathematics at one end and Theology at the other, t h a t this order is to be followed in arranging successive years of school life. I t would better apply to the minutes. T h e order is that of logical development, t h a t in which the subjects are to be successively unfolded to their fullest extent; but it would be absurd to postpone physical teaching entirely until a full knowledge of mathematics had been obtained, and so of any of the other branches. We m a y perhaps compare the course of education to the phyllotactic spiral on a two-fifths arrangement. T h e mathematics are the row of leaves on which the zero leaf is to be taken, and you cannot rise to a higher point in your mathematics, except by running round through the other four rows. For the full, harmonious development of the child's mind we need a perpetual recurrence to the five essential branches of inquiry suggested by every sight of nature. T h e youngest child in the school brings in, perhaps, a dandelion. W h a t is its form, and the number of its rays? These questions belong to mathematics. W h a t is its color, taste and smell, its medicinal effects, its relations to the sunflower and other composite plants? These are questions of physics. T h e derivation of its name, dandelion, — dents de lion, dens lionis,— from the form of the leaf; and of the generic name, taraxicum, from its medicinal effect; the fact of its introduction from Europe; the quotation of the lines, " Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the way, Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold "; — these would be historical instructions from the same simple flower. Then ask the child to tell you why he likes this flower so much; whether because it is prettier than morning glories, or because it comes so early, or because it is so common, — and you stimulate him,

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perhaps, to one of his earliest efforts at a psychological self-examination. Finally, speak to him, reverently and warmly, of the goodness of the Heavenly Father, who has spread beauty with so unsparing a hand before us, and tell him of the Saviour's appeal to our conscience, drawn from the beauty of the lily, using simple language that he can understand, — and you will have given him theological lessons also. While the tabular view accompanying the first of these articles showed a large dependence on the traditional curriculum, as in the division of history, with which Hill was least familiar, nevertheless it was an a t t e m p t to show the theory in practice. Similarly had he challenged his Phi Beta K a p p a hearers. In the closing pages of "Liberal Educat i o n " he considered the difficulties of his theory: The practical question, to what extent any branch . . . must be pursued, will depend for its solution partly on the average age and capacity of the pupils, partly on the ability and tastes of the instructors who can readily be obtained, and principally on the length of time over which the course of studies is to be extended. The question is, theoretically, of easy solution. Each department . . . is to be pursued to precisely the same extent required for a foundation of the succeeding branches in the same curriculum. The difficulty will consist in determining what extent is thus required, without allowing ourselves to be biased by our individual tastes. A second inquiry may be made as to the possibility of introducing só many branches into a limited course. I might reply . . . by simply saying that I have demon-

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strated it to be desirable, and that "whatsoever is desirable is possible, and will some day become actual." . . . I believe that experience is already able to show that, in a varied course of study, such as I here recommend, the progress of the pupil is actually greater in each branch, than it would be if he had not pursued the other studies. . . . And each man will be the better qualified to labor, in whatsoever department his work lies, in proportion to the breadth and depth of his acquaintance with all other departments. After leaving Waltham, Hill began to spread, through addresses to teachers' associations and in the Ohio Educational Monthly, the theories which he was trying to implant in the primary schools. Had Antioch prospered he undoubtedly would have carried the program through the preparatory and college years. At Harvard, on the other hand, the elements of tradition and opposition had to be considered. Hill's proposals there for better admission requirements, a partial elective system, a provision for completing the undergraduate course in three years, and the encouragement of graduate studies, were cut to fit the cloth of a long-established institution. He fitted into them some of his own theories, adapting them toward the logical conclusion of a trend already apparent, and within thirty years others progressed towards the same solution. Whether Hill's larger proposals, as developed in his educational writings, will in turn find adherents is for the future to decide.

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I79> 226-227, 229, 230, 246; selfestimates, 49, 85-90, 108, 115-116, 128, 171, 235; j í í a/jo Antioch; Harvard, administrative methods appearance, 19, 29, 137, 169, 229 character: estimates by others, 19, 26,51-52,70,90-91,125, 13°. 13 2 . T 34, 136-137. 229> 2 33 - 2 34. 241; self-estimates, 46, 49, 114, 128 children, 79, 82,86,96,108,129,165,182,189,190,222,233, 247, 248 education: early, 6, 9-11, 14, 19, 194-195; preparatory, 19, 21-23, 3 1 ) 33. 34. 37~3 8 . ΐ 9 ί - Ι 9 6 ; college decision, l 8 » 3 1 ) 35-36; college course, 41, 45, 47, 49-50, 61, 63, 65-66, 197; college life, 39-66, 93 experiments and inventions, 15, 23, 50, 55, 80, 165, 177, 181, 184, 200—201, 234-235, 238, 240 finances, 11, 14, 18, 31-32, 35, 36, 40, 44-46, 48, 50, 56-57, 71, 83, 86-88, 98, 100-102, 114, 117, 120, 130, 135, 175. !78, 194 health, 11-12, 22, 29, 32, 36, 37, 43, 44, 47, 50, 61, 89, 115, 122, 167, 173-174, 177. I8I, 229, 246-250 home life, 5-9, 22-24, 72, 96, 117, 118, 120, 135, 164-167, 229-230, 247-249 lecturing: 58, 87, 91, 140, 162, 177, 224, 228, 247 marriage, 71, 166 ministry: preparation, 16-19, 3i~3 2 . 35. 36, 4°, 4 2 , 54. 55. 61-63, 69, 195; activity, 71-72, 80-81, 98, 130, 167, 173. 194, 227, 229-231, 247, 249 reading, 9, 13, 16, 22, 26, 31, 38, 46, 58, 64-65, 81, 195, 197 social relations, 11, 32, 34, 37-38, 40, 42, 46-47, 49, 57-59, 117, 120, 125, 128, 134-137, 158-159, 195, 227, 230231, 246

INDEX

259

teaching, 50, 56, 58-59, 67, 91, 96, 109, π ι , ι ι 4 ) 123, 127, 128, 142,188; see also Education writing, ν , 80-81, 84, 121, 177, 189, 194-226, 249, 000 Hitchcock, Edward: 36 Hoar, Ebenezer Rockwood: 159, 169 Hobson, Samuel: 21,35, 45 Holmes, Oliver Wendell: 233-234 Holmesburg, Pa.: 14 Joy, Elizabeth: 82 Kebler, John: 112 King's Chapel: i n , 115 Knapp, Frank: 59 Knapp, Frederick Newman: 58-60, 64, 82, 8 6 , 1 7 5 , 1 9 4 Leicester Academy: 31-38, 50, 93 Leominster, Mass.: 19, 21-31, 33, 34, 37, 45, 47, 50, 232, 237 Lincoln, Mass.: 50, 59 Littleton, N . H . : 70,75, 76, 177 Longfellow, Henry W . : 59, 138, 151 Longworth, Nicholas: 98 Lovering, Joseph: 178 Lowell, Francis C . : 151, 153 Lowell, John Amory: 131, 133 Lower Dublin Academy: 14 Lyman family: 124 Mrs. Arthur T . , 130, 131, 136 Mrs. George, 130, 175 Mann, Horace: 84, 85, 88, 93-96, 104, 116, 119 Manning, Jacob M . : 133 Massachusetts Dental Society: 169 Massachusetts legislature: 159, 169, 180 Mathematics: n , 14-15, 19, 24, 37, 51-52, 54, 64, 65, 73, 7 7 78, 80, 81, 142, 145, 149, 151, 178, 197-201, 229, 230, 238-239 M a y , Samuel, Jr.: 34, 37-38, 45, 56, 6 i , 71

26ο

INDEX

Meadville, P a . : 83-84, 224, 247, 248 Meteorology: 52-54, 58-59 M t . Holyoke Seminary [S. H a d l e y , Mass.]: 34, 36 M u s i c : 23, 63, 65, 237-238, 242 M u z z e y , A r t e m a s Β . : 133 N a u t r i g o n : 201 N e w Bedford, M a s s . : n o , 111 N e w Brunswick, N . J.: 3 - 1 9 , 46, 48, 53, 64, 187, 232 N o y e s , Samuel B . : 57 Occultator: 55, 201 P a l f r e y , John G o r h a m : 18, 19, 21 P a r k , E d w a r d s A . : 244 P e a b o d y , Andrew Preston: 161, 165, 227 Peirce, B e n j a m i n : 5 1 - 5 9 , 7 2 - 7 5 , 124, 138, 139, 151, 156, 178, 180—181, 197-200, 214, 220, 222, 238, 246 Peirce, James Mills: 149 Philadelphia, P a . : 35, 64, 7 1 , 90, 233, 249 Philosophy: 17, 28, 46, 55, 195-197, 2 1 1 , 225-226, 242; see also E d u c a t i o n ; Science and religion; Theology Phonetics: 7 7 - 7 8 , 242 Pierce, E d w a r d : 66 P l y m o u t h , M a s s . : 194 P o e t r y : 28-29, 57, 63, 231-237, 241-242 Portland, M e . : 194, 227-249 N a t u r a l History Society, 216, 228 schools, 210, 242 Pourtales, Louis Francis: 182 Priestley, Joseph: 17, 28, 195, 215, 243 Princeton College [Nassau Hall]: 8 , 3 6 Pumpelly, R a p h a e l : 178 P u t n a m , George: 124, 125, 233 Quincy, Josiah: 39, 51, 5 6 , 1 3 3 Rantoul, R o b e r t : 72-73 R e a d y reckoner: 80

INDEX

261

Richardson, William Α . : 131, 169, ι 8 ο R i o de Janeiro, Brazil: 185-188 Russell, T h o m a s : 131 S t . Louis, M o . : 129 St. T h o m a s , W . I.: 184 Salem, Mass.: 71 San Francisco, Cal.: 1 7 5 - 1 7 6 , 183, 193 Science: 15, 36, 53-54, 61-62, 81, 226-227; s e e Botany; M a t h e m a t i c s ; Astronomy Science and religion: 3, 6, 36, 53-56, 62, 66-67, 80, 203, 2 1 2 215, 223 Sciences, hierarchy of: 140, 202, 204-205 Scientific method: 58, 79, 212, 224 Sears, Philip Howes: 130, 133 Shepard, L u c y : see Hill, L u c y (Shepard) Sibley, John L a n g d o n : 125, 135-136, 149, 165 Sketching: 29, 72, 237, 249 Slavery: 7 - 9 , 32, 63-64, 94, 232 Smith, John Α . : 37 Stebbins, R u f u s P . : 19, 21-38, 43, 45, 63, 83 Steindachner, Franz: 182, 1 9 1 - 1 9 3 Sutton, Mass.: 175 T h a y e r , Alexander: 56 T h a y e r , Nathaniel: 169, 182 T h e o l o g y : influences, 5-8, 16-18, 24, 27, 33, 41-42, 45-46, 195; beliefs, 27, 33, 54-55, 182, 197, 201, 215, 223-226, 243245; see also Philosophy; Science and religion Torrey, H e n r y W . : 136 Toulmin, Joshua: 4 Transcendentalism: 24, 46 Unitarianism [doctrine]: 5, 8, 17, 25, 26, 125, 223, 224, 243-244 Unitarians [sect]: 6, 24, 33, 83-84, 93, 95, 101-102, 1 0 5 - 1 1 1 , 113, 121, 124, 133, 215, 224 V a n M a t e r , John: 1 1 2 - 1 1 4

262

INDEX

W a l c o t t , H e n r y P . : 134, 163 W a l k e r , James: 59, 86, 112, 131, 137 Walpole, N . H . : 60-64, 68, 71, 86, 177, 236 W a l t h a m , Mass.: 71-91, 96, 108, 115, 124, 127, 129, 130, 133, I36, 168, 173, 177-180, I93-I94, 228, 247-250 schools, 77-79, 89, 173, 180, 203 Ware, H e n r y , Jr.: 41, 224 Warren, Gouverneur: 225 Warriner, H e n r y : 112,114,120 Welles, George D . : 162-163 W e n t w o r t h , George Α . : 209 Weston, John B . : 112, 114, 120 W h i t e Mountains: 70, 76-77, 177, 237 Whittredge, T h o m a s : 115,128 W y m a n , Morrill: 167 Y a l e University: 148, 169 Y e l l o w Springs, O . : 90, 130, 227, 248

WRITINGS

MENTIONED

Address before the H a r v a r d N a t u r a l History Society: 83, 202 Christmas, and Poems on S l a v e r y : 63, 232 Creed of an Individual: 224 D u t y of Unitarians in regard to Scientific T h o u g h t : 63, 232 Elementary Treatise on Arithmetic: 64, 77, 199, 208 First Lessons in G e o m e t r y : 79, 84, 208-210 G e o m e t r y and Biology: 221 Geometry and F a i t h : 80, 84, 197, 224, 235, 247 Imagination in M a t h e m a t i c s : 200 In the Woods and Elsewhere: 233, 237 Integral E d u c a t i o n : 90 Jesus, the Interpreter of N a t u r e : 224 Liberal Education : 84, 202, 206 Logos, T h e : 232 N a t u r a l L a w : 216-221, 223, 228 N a t u r a l Sources of T h e o l o g y : 177, 224

INDEX Nature, the Soul and the Gospel: 225-226 Note on Bufo Americanus·. 228 Personal Reminiscences of Agassiz: 213, 228 Phyllotaxis: 228 Postulates of Revelation and of Ethics: 224, 247 Practical Arithmetic (with G. A. Wentworth) : 209 Second Book in Geometry: 209 Systems of Coordinates in One Plane: loo True Order of Studies: 84, 122, 203, 208 What is Unitarianism: 224