LIBRARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 Class 
 

MEMOIRS 
 
 OP 
 
 FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD. 
 
 PRESIDENT OF COLUMBIA COLLEGE. 
 1SS&. 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 
 
 D.D., LL.D., L.H.D., D.C.L. 
 
 TENTH PRESIDENT OF COLUMBIA COLLEGE IN THE CITY OF NEW YORK 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN FULTON 
 
 PUBLISHED FOR THE COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS BY 
 
 MACMILLAN AND CO. 
 
 AND LONDON 
 
 1896 
 All rights reserved 
 
V 
 
 COPTBIGHT, 1896, 
 
 BY MACMILLAN AND CO. 
 
 NorfaooU $3ress 
 
 i. 8. Gushing & Co. - Berwick & Smith 
 Norwood Mass. U.S.A. 
 
PREFATORY NOTE 
 
 THE material for these Memoirs was collected by tlie late 
 Mrs. Margaret McMurray Barnard, and has been arranged 
 and edited in accordance with her wishes. Her sudden death, 
 when no more than two chapters had been written, left the 
 editor under a double disadvantage, since many interesting 
 letters and other documents of which she had frequently 
 spoken could not be found, and it was no longer possible 
 for him to confer with her on questions of detail. He has 
 therefore endeavored to make such use of the material at his 
 disposal as he has reason to believe that she would have pre- 
 ferred, treating some parts of the subject with more minute- 
 ness than his own judgment might have commended, but 
 omitting nothing that she would have wished to be expressed. 
 
 Mrs. Barnard's wish was that her husband's career as a 
 great educator should be illustrated as largely as possible 
 from his own writings. Hence, a large part of the volume 
 will be found to consist of summaries of his recorded views 
 and condensed extracts from his published and unpublished 
 works. 
 
 The brief account of the history of Columbia College, from 
 its incorporation as King's College in 1754 to the accession 
 of Dr. Barnard to the Presidency in 1864, has been consid- 
 ered to be desirable, because it shows that, from the first 
 foundation of that institution, there has always been a ten- 
 dency to reach out from the comparatively limited sphere of 
 a college of liberal arts to the more comprehensive functions 
 of an university, and because it was Dr. Barnard's sympathy 
 
 v 
 
 226521 
 
Vi PREFATORY NOTE 
 
 with that movement which made his election as President 
 so peculiarly fortunate. For the materials of this sketch, the 
 editor is almost wholly indebted to Professor Van Amringe. 
 
 It was no part of Mrs. Barnard's desire or design that 
 these Memoirs should include a history of Columbia College 
 under Dr. Barnard's administration, but only that her hus- 
 band's views and efforts during that most important period 
 of his life should be adequately set forth. No detailed ac- 
 count of his administration has been attempted, while copi- 
 ous but condensed extracts have been made from his reports 
 to the Board of Trustees and from other documents, in 
 explanation of his maturer thoughts on the whole science of 
 education, and more especially on college government, the 
 elective system of studies, postgraduate courses, and other 
 measures looking to the growth of an university organization. 
 To these have been added extracts from many papers in which 
 he advocated the higher education of women, with particular 
 reference to the events which led to the establishment of 
 Barnard College. 
 
 Notwithstanding faults of matter and method of which the 
 editor is conscious, and other faults which will doubtless be 
 observed by the reader, it may be hoped that these Memoirs 
 will be found to be useful as a contribution to the educational 
 history of this country during the nineteenth century. If 
 they shall also secure to the memory of Dr. Barnard some 
 part of the appreciation which is justly due to him as one 
 of the most eminent leaders in the conservative progress of 
 the higher education during that period, they will fulfil the 
 last and dearest wish of the loyal and devoted woman by 
 whose desire they have been compiled. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 PAQB 
 
 Birth and descent Sheffield and the Valley of the Housatonic 
 A New England village at the beginning of the century The 
 meeting-house A Puritan Sabbath Long sermons The vil- 
 lage choir Innovations A new meeting-house Publishing 
 the bans Barnard's mother The village school Religious 
 instructions A peculiar grammar school A bad introduction 
 to the classics Desultory reading Mechanical pursuits 
 School at Saratoga Barnard learns the art of printing . . 1 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 Stockbridge Academy and preparation for college The influence 
 of "other fellows" Barnard's schoolmates His mechanical 
 pursuits Introduction to natural science Juvenile social 
 science Schoolboy pranks A case of discipline The terrors 
 of proportion Entrance examination at Yale Yale in 1824 
 to 1828 College societies Barnard's contemporaries Social 
 influences of college life A distinguished career and a good 
 degree Barnard becomes a teacher in Hartford Grammar 
 School, studies French, German, Italian, and Spanish Becomes 
 attached to the Episcopal Church 22 
 
 CHAPTER HI 
 
 Barnard as a teacher Enters on the study of law His associate, 
 William Carter Newspaper controversies Miss Catherine 
 Beecher and her school Fanny Fern as a girl George D. 
 Prentice, John G. Whittier, and The New England Review 
 Barnard as an editor His first essay in authorship A Fourth 
 of July oration Barnard's hearing impaired His early lit- 
 erary efforts Park Benjamin Barnard becomes a tutor at 
 
 Yale 41 
 
 vii 
 
Viii CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 PAQK 
 
 College government at Yale in 1830 Morning prayers A case of 
 discipline Increasing deafness Barnard resigns his tutorship 
 and accepts a position in the American Institution for the Deaf 
 and Dumb at Hartford Theory and practice of deaf-mute edu- 
 cation Julia Brace The cholera season of 1832 The New 
 York Institution for the Instruction of the Deaf and Dumb 
 Barnard visits New York A city of desolation New York as 
 it was in 1832 Barnard accepts a position in the New York 
 Institution A congenial faculty Scientific studies The star 
 shower of 1832 Barnard is confirmed Meeting with Dr. 
 Manly of Alabama Professorship of Mathematics and Natural 
 Philosophy in the University of Alabama accepted ... 64 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 Barnard at the University of Alabama His varied services Fou- 
 cault's experiment Becomes Professor of Chemistry Invents 
 an improvement in photography Barnard as editor An edi- 
 torial mystification Magazine literature A Masonic oration 
 Appointed astronomer to the Boundary Commission of Florida 
 and Alabama Barnard's marriage A fortunate union Bar- 
 nard becomes a candidate for orders His service to the tem- 
 perance movement A noble discourse on the Union, and its 
 effect 87 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 Oration delivered before the citizens of Tuskaloosa, Alabama, July 
 4,1851 112 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 Barnard's theological studies Disorders in the University of 
 Alabama A senseless attack repelled Letters on college gov- 
 ernment begun The Yale statute and the South Carolina 
 Exculpation Law Objections to both Visitation of rooms by 
 professors Espionage Defence of the Faculty Government 
 by moral influence The ideal college officer described Origin 
 of the existing college system English colleges of the olden 
 time The university and the college Unobserved changes 
 which had made discipline difficult or impossible The college 
 community The old system of government impossible The 
 dormitory system condemned Populous towns to be preferred 
 to country places for college establishments . . 141 
 
CONTENTS IX 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 PACK 
 
 The system of college study The University of Virginia and its 
 elective plan Defence of the University Objections to the 
 Virginia system The "open system" condemned The sig- 
 nificance of degrees The object of college education to train 
 the mind Objection to its unpractical character considered 
 The overloading of the college course in compliance with popular 
 demands An elective group of studies proposed Barnard's 
 election to the chair of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy at 
 the University of Oxford, Mississippi His ordination and 
 removal to Oxford 168 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 The University domain at Oxford Barnard accepts pastoral charge 
 of the church at Oxford Confusion in the financial affairs of 
 the University History of its endowment Barnard's investi- 
 gations Barnard elected to succeed President Longstreet 
 Discipline improved Powers of Faculty enlarged True uni- 
 versity organization projected Open letter to the Board of 
 Trustees Plan for the rearrangement of the college curriculum 
 Post-graduate schools Recitations and lectures A noble 
 appeal for the higher education Astronomy Its practical 
 utility An appeal to State pride In what the greatness of a 
 State consists , 197 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 Effect of Barnard's Letter to the Trustees Two years of progress 
 
 Barnard and the University of the South Discouragement 
 Report to the American Association for the Advancement of 
 Science on the Coast Survey of the United States The astro- 
 nomical observatory and its telescope A petty persecution 
 A case of discipline Charges against Barnard of unsoundness 
 on the slavery question His defence and acquittal Barnard's 
 views on slavery A Union man at the South Thanksgiving 
 discourse in 1856 A letter from Jacob Thompson A meeting 
 with Jefferson Davis The astronomical expedition to Labrador 
 
 Barnard is elected president of the American Association for 
 
 the Advancement of Science .... , 234 
 
x CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Political excitement at the South The delusion of peaceful separa- 
 tion Barnard's views expressed in letters to a friend The 
 
 students of the University enlist Barnard's resignation is not 
 accepted Barnard at the Convention of the Southern Dioceses 
 
 Barnard's resignation accepted Visits military schools of 
 
 South Carolina and Virginia Applies to Mr. Davis for a pass- 
 port On the fall of Norfolk Barnard returns to the North 
 Contrast between the North and the South Barnard in the 
 Coast Survey Service Letter by a refugee Treason at the 
 North following the tactics of treason at the South Earnest 
 support of the administration Two letters from General 
 Sherman 271 
 
 CHAPTER XH 
 
 A sketch of the history of Columbia College First mention in the 
 records of Trinity Church, New York Bishop Berkeley Lot- 
 teries for the founding of a college Dr. Johnson appointed 
 President First matriculation of students in 1754 The Royal 
 Charter granted Opposition to the Charter Trinity Church 
 conveys land to the corporation of King's College The dread 
 of a Church establishment The College seal The foundation 
 stone of the College buildings laid First Commencement in 
 1758 Mr. Cooper elected President in 1763 Grant of land in 
 Gloucester County and how it was lost A grammar school 
 established Foundation of the New York Hospital Condition 
 of the College in 1773 Political controversies Dr. Cooper sails 
 for England Rev. Benjamin Moore Praeses pro tempore The 
 College buildings occupied by troops Suspension of the College 
 from 1776 to 1784 Organization of the University of the State 
 of New York Separate organization of Columbia College 
 The first Trustees Organization of the Board in 1787 Dr. W. 
 S. Johnson chosen President The faculties of Arts and of Medi- 
 cine Library increased College faculty enlarged James 
 Kent, Professor of Law Reduced means and their consequences 
 Dr. Wharton of Philadelphia elected President, 1801 Bishop 
 Moore on December 31st of the same year appointed to the same 
 office A new charter obtained in 1810 Bishop Moore resign- 
 ing, Rev. William Harris is elected President and Rev. Dr. John 
 M. Mason Provost in 1811 The Medical School is incorporated 
 with the College of Physicians and Surgeons in 1813 The 
 Botanic Gardens granted to the College in 1814 History 
 and value of the grant In 1816 Dr. Mason resigns, and the 
 
CONTENTS XI 
 
 PAQB 
 
 provostship is abolished Mr. James Kent is reappointed Pro- 
 fessor of Law and delivers lectures which were afterwards pub- 
 lished as commentaries Grammar school established Hon. 
 "William A. Duer, LL.D., succeeds Dr. Harris as President, 1829 
 A double course of studies introduced in 1830 and discontin- 
 ued in 1843 Fiftieth anniversary celebrated 1837 Nathaniel 
 F. Moore, LL.D., succeeds President Duer, 1842 The study of 
 German and elocution Charles King, Esq., LL.D., succeeds 
 Dr. Moore as President, 1849 Emeritus professors Plans for 
 a system of post-graduate instruction The College removed hi 
 1857 to the buildings formerly occupied by the New York Insti- 
 tution for the Deaf and Dumb Plans for parallel course of 
 study Establishment of the Law Schools in 1858 A School 
 of Mines projected in 1863 Election of Dr. Barnard to succeed 
 President King, 1864 301 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 Dr. Barnard as President of Columbia College His efforts in behalf 
 of the School of Mines His Inaugural Address on the relation 
 of physical science to revealed religion Denies a conflict be- 
 tween science and religion Opposition of religious men to sci- 
 ence Its cause, its folly, and itsdanger Reasons for harmony 
 between them The light of science is a light of revelation 
 Contrast between science and philosophical speculation Miracle 
 
 Superstition The Bible not a book of science Reasons 
 why it could not be so Evolution Theory and demonstration 
 
 Representatives of religion ought to study science, and scien- 
 tific men ought to study religion 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 A lack of incident in Dr. Barnard's later life Discouragements of 
 the earlier years of his presidency Discipline The responsi- 
 bility of students Freedom of attendance The marking sys- 
 tem Oral and written examinations Grading Honors 
 Decrease in attendance in the collegiate department Admis- 
 sions without examination Visitation of affiliated schools 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 A change of views on the subject of elective studies Modern lan- 
 guages Defects of the American college system Popular 
 dissatisfaction with it proved by statistics Increase of interest 
 
i CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 in scientific studies The beginning of an elective system advo- 
 cated The elective system again pressed The old theory of 
 the college curriculum exclusively for mental discipline rejected 
 The revival of the "double course" recommended Success 
 of the elective system reported, and its extension suggested 
 The elective principle advanced as the key which solves all diffi- 
 culties of the college problem The elective system adopted for 
 the Junior and Senior years 379 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 Dr. Barnard's change of view on the elective system A real con- 
 sistency underlying it Change of the age at which young men 
 enter college The college of the future Graduate fellows as 
 instructors Expansion of the college into a university The 
 graduate department The abandonment of the undergraduate 
 department suggested Opening of the college to women pro- 
 posed Keasons urged in behalf of the measure Movements 
 for the higher education of women in England and America 
 Objections to it answered The measure again urged The 
 Faculty of Columbia ready either to receive young women as 
 students or to teach them in an annex The Harvard Annex 
 Barnard College established in connection with Columbia 
 Table of attendance in Columbia College, and its associated 
 schools from 1865 to the close of President Barnard's adminis- 
 tration in 1888 
 
 CHAPTER XVH 
 
 Barnard's early education and its defects Education a science and 
 teaching an art Who should teach the teachers ? A depart- 
 ment of the theory and practice of education proposed Euro- 
 pean examples General defects of the present system What 
 a true education would be An ideal school . 424 
 
MEMOIES 
 
 OF 
 
 FKEDEKICK A. P. BAENARD 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 Birth and descent Sheffield and the Valley of the Housatonic A New 
 England village at the beginning of the century The meeting-house 
 A Puritan Sabbath Long sermons The village choir Innova- 
 tions A new meeting-house Publishing the bans Barnard's 
 mother The village school Religious instructions A peculiar 
 grammar school A bad introduction to the classics Desultory 
 reading Mechanical pursuits School at Saratoga Barnard learns 
 the art of printing. 
 
 FREDERICK AUGUSTUS PORTER BARNARD was born 
 at Sheffield, Massachusetts, May 5, 1809, of an honorable 
 ancestry both on the paternal and on the maternal side. 
 His father, Colonel Robert Foster Barnard, was a lawyer 
 of distinction, and several times represented his district 
 in the senate of his State. He was a lineal descendant in 
 the sixth generation from Francis Barnard of Coventry, 
 Warwickshire, England, who settled at Dorchester, Mas- 
 sachusetts, in 1636, but subsequently removed to Hart- 
 ford, Connecticut, and still later to Hadley, Massachusetts. 
 The wife of Colonel Barnard was Augusta Porter, daugh- 
 ter of Dr. Joshua Porter, a physician of Salisbury, Con- 
 necticut, and a descendant in the sixth generation from 
 John Porter of Warwickshire, England, who migrated 
 
OF 
 
 to the colony of Massachusetts Bay in 1626. According 
 to tradition, the founder of the Porter family was Sir 
 William de la Grande, a follower of William the Con- 
 queror ; and the surname of Porter is said to have been 
 derived from a son of Sir William who held the office 
 of Grand Porteur at the court of King Henry I. John 
 Porter, the founder of the American branch of the family, 
 was a lineal descendant in the sixteenth generation from 
 Sir William de la Grande. 
 
 The birthplace of Frederick Barnard was in the beauti- 
 ful valley of the Housatonic, surrounded by Greylock on 
 the north, by the western spur of the Green Mountains 
 on the east, by the Dover Hills on the south, and by the 
 bold Taughannock range on the west. Hardly anywhere 
 could a greater variety or a more pleasing contrast of bold 
 and peaceful scenery be found than in and around that 
 lovely valley, sheltered, as it was, by picturesque if not 
 majestic hills, watered by many streams and deep cold 
 lakes, all teeming with trout, which have long since 
 disappeared, and dotted with the quiet homes and 
 villages of a hardy and enterprising people. Other 
 noted' towns in the near neighborhood of Sheffield were 
 Williamstown, Pittsfield, Lenox, Stockbridge, Great Bar- 
 rington, Salisbury, and Sharon ; and it is no insignificant 
 indication of the character of the inhabitants of the dis- 
 trict that each of those towns sent from one to five students 
 either to Yale or to Williams College every year. The 
 village of Sheffield, as it was in those days, " before the 
 aggressions of railways had broken up the peaceful quiet 
 of country life, and converted rural districts into mere 
 suburbs of the great towns," has been happily described 
 by Dr. Barnard himself in an autobiographical sketch 
 contributed to The Forum in 1886. The description of 
 a typical Massachusetts village at the beginning of the 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 3 
 
 present century, as it appeared in the memory of an octo- 
 genarian in 1886, is historically as well as biographically 
 valuable, and may properly be inserted here with some 
 very slight abbreviation. 
 
 The inhabitants of Pitcairn's Island [says Dr. Barnard] 
 were hardly more completely isolated from the great world 
 than our little community. Only one slight link attached us 
 to outside humanity the mail-wagon, called for euphony's 
 sake " the stage," connecting Albany on the west with Hart- 
 ford on the east, which passed daily through the village. In 
 my later boyhood, when this ramshackle old vehicle was re- 
 placed by a dashing, yellow-painted, four-horse post-coach, a 
 galvanic thrill seemed to run through the whole sluggish com- 
 munity, and it was felt with pride that we were rising in the 
 world. Afterward the startling event of the day was the 
 flashing transit of that showy visitor, heralded long before 
 its arrival by the tuneful notes of the coachman's bugle to 
 which it was my daily delight to listen. 
 
 My native village was centrally situated in a township of 
 six miles square which, in the ecclesiastical polity of early 
 New England, had been constituted a single parish, subject to 
 a pastor of the dominant Congregational persuasion. Our 
 good town's people would have repelled with scorn the appli- 
 cation to themselves of a term so savoring of prelacy as " par- 
 ish." In their relations to the Christian world they described 
 themselves as a religious " society " ; but hateful as prelacy 
 was to them, their reverential awe of their spiritual guide 
 seemed to indicate that they could be brought to tolerate the 
 thing more easily than the name. 
 
 In virtue of our centrality we possessed the " meeting-house" 
 the word " Church " shared with " parish " in the popular 
 disesteem. As I remember it, the meeting-house stood, a 
 dreary, forlorn, and melancholy-looking barn-like wooden 
 structure, exactly in the middle of the road. It had been 
 erected by a generation which regarded " steeple-houses " as 
 vanities, and decorative architecture as positively sinful. 
 There was nothing about it, therefore, to endanger any soul 
 by ministering to " the lust of the eye." The interior was no 
 
4 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 less gloomy than the outward aspect. I heard it often spoken 
 of by our godly pastor in the pulpit as "the very gate of 
 heaven," and though I shuddered at the impious thought, I 
 could not help wondering what sort of a place heaven must be, 
 if the meeting-house was its gate. It was furnished with old- 
 fashioned pews, eight or ten feet square, enclosed by partitions 
 so high as completely to conceal the occupants from their neigh- 
 bors ; the design being perhaps to prevent untimely criticisms 
 of bonnets and dresses, or to guard the pious meditations of 
 young people from being distracted by the contemplation of 
 the charms of the opposite sex. The figure of the parson in 
 his lofty pulpit could be discerned only by those of his hearers 
 who sat on the further side of the pews from the sacred desk. 
 The pulpit was a ponderous and clumsy contrivance, so lofty 
 as to put the preacher on a level with his hearers in the spa- 
 cious galleries which ran around three sides of the auditorium. 
 It was approached by lofty stairways, one on each side, lead- 
 ing to massive doors which, when closed, gave it, to my young 
 eyes, so much the appearance of a place of involuntary con- 
 finement that my earliest and long-continued impression was 
 that the minister was shut up there against his will, and that 
 his fervent discourses, which I did not in the least understand, 
 were passionate appeals to the congregation to let him out. 
 I could never quite make out how it happened that these ap- 
 peals, often so apparently pathetic, seemed to be so unavailing. 
 
 Immediately above the pulpit was an approximately hemi- 
 spherical canopy, the nearest approach to ornament which the 
 edifice had to boast, but which was too hideous in appearance 
 to have been introduced with an aesthetic design. In popular 
 parlance it was called the " sounding-board," to which purpose 
 its flat under-surface may perhaps have adapted it. 
 
 In the pews the sexes sat promiscuously ; but as the occu- 
 pants of each pew were usually members of the same family, 
 that arrangement was regarded there as innocuous. In the 
 galleries, however, which were occupied by persons for whom 
 there was no room in the family pews below, and by the un- 
 fortunate class of extra-familiated persons who are always 
 numerous in every community, there was a " man's side " and 
 a "woman's side," the dividing line between them being di- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 5 
 
 rectly opposite to the pulpit. This was an effectual safeguard 
 against the dangers of personal proximity ; but it afforded to 
 the undevout the incidental advantage of being able to contem- 
 plate each other's features from a favorable point of view. 
 
 During my early boyhood it was one of the most earnest of 
 my ambitions to be permitted " to sit up gallery " ; but this was 
 an aspiration which my father did not regard with favor, and 
 which was rarely gratified. I felt this privation the more 
 severely because the boys of my own age with whom I most 
 constantly associated were not generally subject to a similar 
 restraint ; and it grieved my soul to see them in the weekly 
 enjoyment of a privilege which was denied to me ; but there 
 were times when the presence of "company" or some other 
 cause dislodged me from the family pew, and then the freedom 
 of the gallery was open to me as to others. It is possible that 
 I enjoyed these opportunities the more because of their rare 
 occurrence. There were two reasons which made a seat in the 
 gallery I will not say pleasant, for no part of the church 
 was pleasant but less wearisome to me than on the floor. 
 The first was that it afforded me the companionship of other 
 sufferers who shared my feelings, and with whom I could engage 
 in a cautiously conducted intercommunication which enabled us 
 to while away the tedious minutes. In our interchange of 
 thought, however, there was need of great circumspection ; for 
 there was a formidable functionary, elected on every " town- 
 meeting day " and called a tithing-man, whose duty it was to 
 look after the good order of public worship ; and the vigilant 
 eye of that dreaded functionary was sure to detect, and his 
 stern rebuke was not less sure to check with prompt severity, 
 the slightest overt act of young or old resembling irreverence. 
 The tithing-man was always a " professor " of the most austere 
 sort ; and I remember that 1 used to wonder whether he did 
 not think it wicked to laugh on week-days as well as on Sun- 
 days, and whether he did not regard anything pleasant as 
 necessarily sinful. 
 
 Another circumstance which made a seat in the gallery de- 
 sirable to me was that it afforded a view of the desk on which 
 the parson laid his manuscript. Our clergyman's sermons were 
 written out in full, each of them forming a sort of libretto, 
 
6 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 and as lie turned the leaves in the progress of his discourse, 
 we could judge approximately how much of it there was yet to 
 come. I remember the wistful anxiety with which we gallery 
 urchins used to watch his gradual approach to the last page ; 
 and how, when the last leaf was turned, we almost held our 
 breath for the final Amen. I remember, too, our deep dis- 
 appointment when we saw him turn his libretto over and begin 
 again on the first leaf originally left blank with " a few 
 words by way of application to close the subject." The "few 
 words " often expanded into many, until it seemed as if the 
 earnest divine were going to add a second sermon to the first, 
 and then our hearts sank into fathomless despair. 
 
 The choir, usually spoken of as " the singers," occupied the 
 front seats in the gallery, the " men singers " on one side, and 
 the "women singers" on the other, extending in long rows 
 from the leader, who stood directly opposite the pulpit, around 
 the corners of the gallery on both sides. They stood up when 
 they sang; the congregation remained seated. In my earlier 
 recollection, they were sustained by no instrumental accom- 
 paniment, a church organ being regarded as little better than 
 an invention of the devil ; but after a time this prejudice was 
 so far softened, that a violoncello, or, as it was called, a " bass 
 viol," was somewhat ungraciously admitted to give increased 
 solemnity to the deeper tones. In order to " set the pitch " 
 the leader was supplied with a sort of wooden whistle called a 
 pitch-pipe, having the external appearance of a small psalm- 
 book, and provided with a sliding stop by which to vary the 
 tone. After the hymn had been read entirely through by the 
 minister, this important functionary rose, audibly announced 
 the melody, gave a sound on his pitch-pipe, thus, " Bangor 
 toot ! " raised his right arm to bring the singers to their feet, 
 and then, with a powerful down-beat, struck the leading note 
 which the rest followed. The leader usually sang the air, 
 though that was properly the part of the " trebles," the word 
 soprano was unknown but, as if proud to show his versatility, 
 he often passed in succession to the other parts. 
 
 One further recollection of the old meeting-house I must not 
 omit. The time arrived at length, even in my early years, 
 when the depressing ugliness of the homely old structure 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 7 
 
 became too much, for a generation which, while still firmly 
 clinging to the faith of the fathers, had ceased to regard the 
 utter mortification of natural taste as absolutely indispensable 
 to godliness. In the minds of the devout there was a gradual 
 but evident softening on the subject of steeples ; and at length, 
 it began to be suggested that a taper spire, pointing to heaven, 
 might not be an inappropriate emblem of the pious purposes to 
 which the sacred edifice was devoted. The need of a bell, too, 
 to announce the hour of praise to distant dwellers, had long 
 been felt ; and a bell implied a belfry, which was half way to 
 a steeple. These ideas gradually worked in the minds of the 
 people until it was resolved in open town meeting that the 
 meeting-house should have a steeple. At the same time it was 
 suggested by some progressive reformers that the situation of 
 the structure in the middle of the street, though quite con- 
 sistent with, the spirit of reverence which regarded it as 
 typifying the thought which should be always central and 
 supreme in the minds of men, was an unnecessary obstruction 
 to the circulation of vehicles ; and it was consequently resolved 
 that the meeting-house should not only be embellished with a 
 spire, but should also be removed to a position where it should 
 dominate the highway laterally. The spirit of improvement 
 did not stop there. In fact, when a stagnant people is once 
 awakened to the idea of change as a possibility, changes for the 
 sake of change will not be slow to follow. It was resolved to 
 reconstruct the whole interior of the building. All the venerable 
 square pews were removed, the gallery and the lumbering old 
 pulpit were torn away, and nothing was left but an empty shell. 
 Pews in the modern style slips, they were called in Shef- 
 field in which all the hearers faced the minister, though 
 preferable, perhaps, on utilitarian principles, but greatly in- 
 ferior in apparent dignity, replaced the family boxes of the 
 fathers ; the ponderous, sombre-colored columns which sustained 
 the gallery gave way to slender, white-painted pillars ; and a 
 new and airy-looking reading-desk, approached by circular 
 steps with a light hand-rail, succeeded the venerable pulpit. 
 In these new arrangements there was a manifest effort to soften 
 the gloom of Sunday, but the impressiveness of the place was 
 lost, and, on the whole, the transformation did not please me. 
 
8 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The grand operation of moving the meeting-house to its new site 
 impressed me very powerfully. To transfer so vast a structure 
 to a distance of only a few hundred yards seemed to me a truly 
 Titanic work ; and I watched it from day to day with eyes 
 almost of incredulity. The difficulty of the work was prob- 
 ably magnified in my mind by the fact that it surpassed the 
 power of our local mechanics ; we were obliged to send as far 
 as Hudson, twenty-eight miles distant on the North River, to 
 obtain a competent engineer; and when that august man of 
 science arrived, I well remember the mingled feelings of awe 
 and admiration with which we boys of the village looked upon 
 him. 
 
 The addition of a steeple to the meeting-house involved the 
 construction also of a kind of pronaos, or vestibule, since the 
 old framework could scarcely be trusted to bear so great a 
 weight. This vestibule, in the half hour before service, became 
 a sort of loitering place, where even the most devout were 
 accustomed to linger for the exchange of pious greetings. It 
 served, therefore, as a convenient place for the posting of 
 public notices of such matters as were not out of harmony 
 with the sacredness of the edifice. Here, accordingly, it was 
 customary to make the publication required by the laws of 
 the State of Massachusetts of an intention of marriage enter- 
 tained by persons in the township. This publication, contrary 
 to the usage in Great Britain, where it is made from the pul- 
 pit, was required to be made by the town clerk. For many 
 years my father held that responsible office, and discharged 
 the particular duty here mentioned by affixing a bulletin in 
 a conspicuous position on the wall of the church vestibule. 
 In order that the people might have ample opportunity to 
 peruse such interesting notices, it was desirable that they 
 should be posted about the time of the first bell say about 
 an hour before service ; and my father used often to entrust 
 the notices to me with instructions to affix them in the proper 
 place. I well remember the feeling of importance with which 
 I used to discharge this duty, and the pride of office I felt 
 when I saw the crowds which curiosity drew around me as I 
 entered bearing the official posters. There were occasions on 
 which I did more than post the notices; I prepared them 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 9 
 
 myself when the absence of my father from home happened 
 to occur just as some ardent couple were impatient to fulfil 
 the legal formalities necessary to permit the union of their 
 hearts and fortunes for life. In such cases I assumed the func- 
 tion of town clerk ad interim, wrote the bulletins, signed my 
 father's name as his proxy, and thus spared the waiting lovers 
 the weariness of delay. The usual mode of publishing the 
 banns, of marriage was that which has been just described, 
 but it was optional with the town clerk to make it viva voce, 
 if he chose ; and as a single publication of that kind sufficed, 
 there were sensitive people who preferred so expeditious a 
 mode of getting through with a disagreeable formality rather 
 than to be publicly advertised for the space of three weeks. 
 In complying with the wishes of such persons my father 
 used to seize the moment when the services were concluded 
 and the congregation were rising from their seats ; then, rap- 
 ping for attention, he would make a stentorian outcry of the 
 important notification with which he was officially charged. 
 It happened once, when I was acting as his substitute, that I 
 was requested to publish by word of mouth, and not by posted 
 bulletin. It seemed to me a terrible thing to speak out loud 
 before such a multitude; but the dignity of office and the 
 sense of duty sustained me, and I passed through the ordeal 
 without discredit. Only, as my stature was small, I found it 
 necessary, in order to secure attention, to mount the seat of 
 the pew where I stood and to use all the strength of my lungs. 
 When the ceremony was over, I had the satisfaction of know- 
 ing that the parties most immediately interested had been well 
 published. 
 
 In later life Dr. Barnard was of the opinion that the 
 most powerful educative influences in a child's life are 
 those by which he is surrounded when emerging from 
 infancy, and consequently at a period of which conscious 
 memory preserves no record. Whatever education, in any 
 true sense of the word, he himself had received, he referred 
 to the careful training of his mother, chiefly in that early 
 period ; and although he remembered nothing of its proc- 
 
10 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 esses, lie believed it to have affected his moral rather 
 than his mental development. " I believe [he said] that 
 if there is anything good in me, it must be owing to 
 that loving maternal solicitude which gently swayed me 
 towards the right at a time when the bending of the twig 
 sufficed to give its permanent inclination to the full-grown 
 tree." Yet his recollection of events occurring in his 
 childhood was unusually distinct. Thus, he definitely 
 remembered being taken out at night to witness an astro- 
 nomical event which occurred during his second year, and 
 he also remembered the style of the " dresses of printed 
 muslin cut in kilted fashion" which he wore at that age. 
 With one of those dresses he associated what must have 
 been a very early lesson in the English language. 
 
 The dress [he says] was one I particularly admired; and 
 once, on having been arrayed in it just after it had come back 
 fresh from the laundry, I exclaimed, " mamma, what a pretty 
 new dress ! " " You should say clean dress, my child, not new," 
 replied my mother. The correction surprised me ; and I pon- 
 dered long on the distinction between clean and new. 
 
 In the intellectual sense of the word, Dr. Barnard hardly 
 believed that he had ever been educated. 
 
 If by education is meant the result of influences exerted by 
 other minds acting on and giving shape to my own, I should 
 find it difficult to point out when, where, and to what extent 
 such influences have produced such an effect on me. Not that 
 I had not teachers enough; I had probably more than my 
 share; but their personal relations to me, as I recall them, 
 seem to have consisted chiefly in " setting " me lessons, in lis- 
 tening to my " recitation," which was a verbal repetition of 
 the text, correcting my blunders by giving me the right word 
 when I used the wrong one, and telling me I " had better mind " 
 when I was restless or disorderly. 
 
FEEDEEICK A. P. BAENAED 11 
 
 Under such teachers his mind was neither nourished nor 
 stimulated. He was taught a few things and forced to 
 learn other things in an uninteresting mechanical way; 
 his real education was derived from the spontaneous exer- 
 cise and healthy growth of his unusual natural powers. 
 
 He had the good fortune, as Dr. Hale puts it, to be 
 " born in the middle of a family," his only brother, John 
 G. Barnard, afterwards a distinguished general officer in 
 the Engineer Corps of the United States army, being some- 
 what his junior, and his only sister Sarah, who afterwards 
 married the Hon. Augustus Porter, United States Senator 
 from Michigan, being his senior by about two years. In 
 company with the latter he was sent to the village school 
 soon after he was able to walk, and his description of that 
 institution of learning is well worth preserving. 
 
 On my introduction into this school, not being in the least 
 aware what I was sent there for, I was a good deal puzzled by 
 the scene presented to me. From end to end of the room on 
 each side there extended a long desk of soft, white, unpainted 
 pine, that on the left being embellished with curious and highly 
 ingenious carvings, and that on the opposite side being deco- 
 rated with numerous pen-drawings which a more mature critic 
 might have assigned to the Egyptian school. In front of these 
 desks were benches or forms of simple construction, consisting 
 of planks of some thickness supported by stout wooden pins 
 driven into obliquely bored auger-holes to serve as legs. Smaller 
 forms of less height occupied more advanced positions in the 
 room. These were for the little pupils, among whom I was 
 unceremoniously set down those next the desk were for the 
 "big boys" and "big girls," the sexes occupying different 
 sides of the room. Many of the little ones, with small books 
 in their hands, were rocking themselves to and fro, and rapidly 
 moving their lips. I was told that they were " studying their 
 lessons," and I wondered what that could be. 
 
 The master, for it was a " man's school," occupied a com- 
 manding position upon a slightly raised platform. His eye 
 
12 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 swept frequently over his little realm, and I observed with 
 amusement that the boy or girl on whom it momentarily 
 rested became instantly absorbed in some profoundly inter- 
 esting occupation with book or slate, and seemed to breathe 
 a deep sigh of relief when the formidable eye passed on. 
 Some of the boys at the desk, when thus left free to follow 
 their own devices, exchanged whispered communications, ap- 
 parently relating to strings, pins, and certain spherical objects 
 which were furtively passed from hand to hand. Others 
 applied themselves to improving the contour of their desks 
 with knives which seemed to have been furnished, not only 
 with blades, but also with gimlets, saws, and other implements 
 adapted to the use of sculptors in wood, and it soon became 
 evident that these were the artists to whom the decorations of 
 the desks were attributable. The girls, on their part, improved 
 their opportunities of perfecting the pictorial decorations of 
 the desks on their side. This sort of by-play, however, in- 
 terested and puzzled me less than the scholastic exercises of 
 the institution. " The first class in reading," " the second class 
 in reading," " the first class in spelling," " the second class in 
 spelling," and so on, were successively called up, and a horrible 
 botch they made of it, one after the other. I could not under- 
 stand what they stood up to read for, nor why they did not 
 read after they stood up. I could read before I went to school. 
 How it happened I did not know. I supposed it was natural 
 to do so. Probably I had acquired that accomplishment from 
 the same source from which I derived almost everything else 
 in me that is good if there is any such thing from my 
 mother's careful teaching. There came a time when I had to 
 stand up myself with a class of children of my own age. I 
 read and spelled as the others did ; it was a very wearying and 
 meaningless business, and I found school life very trying. As 
 days and weeks went on, I learned to hate it intensely. There 
 was but one pleasant incident in the oppressive three-hours 
 session. It was when the glad announcement was heard from 
 the master's lips, " The boys may go out." Then, for ten or 
 fifteen minutes, there followed a sense of exulting freedom, to 
 which nothing in later life could be compared. 
 
 A few weeks after my attendance at the district school began, 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 13 
 
 my inadequate appreciation of its educational advantages was 
 the occasion of a profound mortification to my loving mother ; 
 and, through her, of a singular feeling of perplexity and shame 
 to myself. A lady visitor, thinking perhaps to gratify a par- 
 ent's pride by noticing her offspring, called me to her and asked 
 me some of those trivial questions which strangers usually \ 
 address to children. Among other things she asked me, " Do 
 you go to school ? " I answered, " I do." Then she asked, 
 " What do you go to school for ? " I replied very truthfully 
 and honestly that I did not know. " my child," exclaimed 
 my mother, " why do you make such a naughty answer ? " " It 
 is not naughty," I insisted, "I don't know." "Oh, now," she 
 continued, " be good, and tell the lady that you go to learn to 
 read." " But I don't learn to read at school," I said ; " I can 
 read better than any of the children now." My mother gave 
 it up as a helpless case; but I could see that my stupidity 
 deeply grieved her, and I was deeply grieved myself without 
 knowing why. 
 
 Religious instruction, such as it was, formed an indis- 
 pensable part of the curriculum of a New England village 
 school. 
 
 The sensibilities of our pious villagers had never been 
 shocked by the proposal to exclude the Bible from the schools. 
 Every Saturday morning the whole school was called up to " say 
 the Catechism," meaning the Shorter Catechism of the West- 
 minster Assembly. On one occasion an answer given during 
 this exercise created a sensation. The commandments were 
 the subject of interrogation, and had been correctly given until 
 it came to one of the larger boys to answer the question, 
 Which is the ninth commandment ? Whether in sheer igno- 
 rance, or whether he was instigated by the total depravity that 
 the Catechism told us was inherent in us all, the boy replied 
 in a confident tone, " Thou shalt not swear." The consequences 
 of his indiscretion were somewhat serious; and, some hours 
 later, when the lad's father inspected his son's back, it was a 
 prevalent impression that he grievously violated this new 
 commandment. 
 
14 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 It cannot be said, however, that Frederick Barnard 
 learned nothing at the district school. The three addi- 
 tions to his knowledge which he received there, and of 
 which he retained a grateful recollection, were the differ- 
 ence between his right hand and his left, the mysteries 
 of the game of "mumble the peg," commonly called 
 mumblety-peg, and the charms of the fair sex to which 
 he ever afterwards continued to be sensitive. His mention 
 of that first experience of the tender passion is extremely 
 characteristic : 
 
 The object of my affection was very pretty, and I suppose 
 that was why I loved her ; but I thought I loved her because 
 she was a pleasant playmate. The persistency with which I 
 sought her society did not fail to attract the notice of my rude 
 companions. Possibly they were envious, I will not impute 
 motives, but I know that, on account of this weakness of 
 mine, they held me up to merciless derision, and, as a crowning 
 insult, called me "gal-boy." In the fact of being a "gal-boy" 
 I could see nothing discreditable ; but the contemptuous tone 
 in which the word was uttered wounded me deeply. 
 
 Thus "lives of great men all remind us" that "the 
 course of true love never did run smooth! " 
 
 At the mature age of four, Frederick was sent to what 
 was called a grammar school, conducted by a graduate of 
 Williams College, who, in later life, achieved a brilliant 
 reputation and became one of the most famous preachers 
 of his time, the Rev. Orville Dewey. The small student 
 was not required to study set lessons, but he was deeply 
 interested in Mr. Dewey's lessons on geography. For 
 the sake of illustration the teacher used a wooden ball, 
 about eight inches in diameter, on which he had traced 
 the equator, the tropics, the polar circles, and the ecliptic. 
 Unfortunately, however, he held the globe by a rod passing 
 through the axis and projecting some inches beyond the 
 
FKEDEKICK A. P. BAKNAKD 15 
 
 places which represented the poles of the earth, and when 
 he spoke of the poles, Frederick naturally inferred that 
 the earth must have similar projections on a larger scale. 
 From this bit of personal experience Dr. Barnard was led 
 to think " that illustration by design and model is not 
 always so effectual a mode of conveying knowledge as it 
 is generally supposed to be." 
 
 At the age of six Frederick was promoted to the study 
 of the humanities under the direction of the village parson, 
 who was fain to eke out a scanty income by receiving a 
 limited number of pupils. Of the eight or ten lads who 
 enjoyed the privilege of his instructions Frederick was 
 the only small boy, and he was set forthwith to study 
 Adams' Latin Grammar and the Colloquies of good old 
 Martin Cordery. The methods of the parson's school 
 were somewhat peculiar. His pupils were turned loose 
 together in a large room to prepare their lessons for the 
 appointed hour of recitation. As there was no one to 
 look after them, the time of preparation was spent in 
 play ; and as the reverend tutor was far from strict in his 
 requirements, the recitations were something of a farce. 
 Sometimes it happened that the dominie forgot his pupils 
 altogether! Naturally enough, the progress of the boys 
 in polite learning was not rapid, and after a time Colonel 
 Barnard put Frederick under the instructions of a young 
 law student who was then reading in his office. For two 
 trying years there was a struggle between the boy and 
 his instructor, the boy hating the very sight of the Latin 
 grammar and determined not to study it ; the young 
 man equally determined that he should. The stronger 
 will prevailed, and the end was that Frederick did learn 
 the whole grammar, rules and exceptions, Etymology, 
 Syntax, and Prosody, word for word, by heart, but without 
 understanding a syllable of it all. Luckily he had a read- 
 
16 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ing book Farrand's Course of Latin Study which has 
 long been forgotten, but the contents of which interested 
 his mind more than the dry if elegantly worded Colloquies 
 of Martin Cordery, and it is due to the pleasure with 
 which he read that book that he was able to regard the 
 study of the Latin language with anything but disgust. 
 
 Meanwhile, his mind was gaining nourishment else- 
 where. He was a voracious reader. The juvenile litera- 
 ture of that time was scanty ; but at least he read it all, 
 from Mother Goose to The Pilgrim's Progress. When 
 he was only six years old his father wisely put Shake- 
 speare into his hands, and even then he was able to enjoy 
 the Comedies, though the Tragedies and Histories were 
 still above his comprehension. His mother introduced him 
 to Cowper, Burns, Goldsmith, Campbell, and other poets, 
 and to Addison, Johnson, Burke, and Robertson among 
 prose writers. He pored over the pages of Rollin, but 
 books of voyages and travels were his special delight. 
 The narrative of Professor Silliman's journeys through 
 England, Scotland, and Holland in 1806 took so strong a 
 hold on his imagination that it became the desire of his 
 life to see and know the author. He trembled at the 
 thought that before he should be ready to enter Yale the 
 great professor might have passed away ; a needless fear, 
 as the event proved, since Professor Silliman survived the 
 graduation of his young admirer by more than six and 
 thirty years. Like many other men of eminence, Dr. 
 Barnard felt in after years that he owed far more of his 
 intellectual development to the desultory reading of his 
 early boyhood than to all the misdirected instructions 
 of his teachers. The senseless task of learning the 
 Latin grammar by rote, without understanding its mean- 
 ing, might have been more injurious than it actually 
 was, but for his promiscuous reading and the amusement 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 17 
 
 which he sought and found in mechanical contrivance. 
 A friendly carpenter allowed him the freedom of his 
 workshop and the use of his tools ; sometimes the good 
 man's indulgence went so far as to supply him with mate- 
 rials for his work. It was a proud satisfaction to Fred- 
 erick that the desk at which he sat in his father's office 
 while painfully memorizing the Latin grammar was of his 
 own construction. His kites, sleds, barrows, wind-mills, 
 water-mills, and trip-hammers were the envy of his com- 
 panions ; but notwithstanding the kindness of his friend the 
 carpenter, there is reason to fear that the litter he made at 
 home was sometimes the despair of the housemaid. The 
 faculties of contrivance and construction which were thus 
 brought into healthful activity were destined to contrib- 
 ute in no slight degree to his success in very different 
 pursuits. 
 
 When Frederick was about nine years of age, he went 
 to live with his grandfather, Dr. Porter, who had re- 
 cently removed to the village of Saratoga Springs, and 
 there, except when making occasional visits to his 
 home at Sheffield, he remained for nearly three years 
 in attendance at a school of some pretensions, called 
 the Saratoga Academy. At that school he first began 
 to find his Latin studies endurable, partly, perhaps, be- 
 cause a copy of Virgil with a prose translation chanced 
 to fall into his hands, and he found the story so fascinat- 
 ing that he read it entirely through before he had com- 
 pleted the first book of the original. While at Saratoga 
 he read the JEneid, the Georgics, and four of Cicero's 
 Orations, and had occasion to test the value of the rule 
 which forbade the use of any language but the Latin 
 in communications between the classical scholars and 
 the master. He found that his intercourse with his 
 superior was somewhat restricted in range and some- 
 
18 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 what meagre in the extent of its vocabulary, but on 
 the whole he believed that the rule was not without its 
 advantages. It was at Saratoga that he began the 
 study of Greek, and he used afterwards to say that 
 he found that study, under the conditions which then 
 existed, to be "hardly less bewildering than the navi- 
 gation of the Sargasso Sea by Christopher Columbus." 
 The only Greek grammars then in use were written 
 in Latin, and the lexicon in general use was the Greek- 
 Latin lexicon of Schrevelius, which was limited in its 
 vocabulary, and badly printed besides. The first Greek 
 text to which he was introduced was the Gospel of St. 
 John, of which he said many years later that "for sim- 
 plicity of style and freedom from embarrassing idioms, 
 he considered it the best example of written Greek that 
 could be put into the hands of a beginner." From St. 
 John he was advanced to the Collectanea Q-rceca Minora, 
 another text-book which has long since been laid on the 
 shelf, greatly to the loss, as Dr. Barnard thought, of 
 beginners in Greek. Besides his studies in the classics, 
 he became proficient in geography and made some prog- 
 ress in map-drawing. He has recorded that he was 
 deeply impressed by the knowledge of geometry displayed 
 by his professor's ingenious contrivances which the 
 boy did not in the least understand for describing 
 meridians and parallels of latitude with their proper 
 curvatures, also that his own maps were much com- 
 mended by partial friends, and that he was very proud 
 of the sinuosities of the rivers, which looked as if they 
 might have been drawn from nature, but which were 
 really the product of his own imagination. 
 
 An incident of his life at Saratoga was his learning 
 the printer's trade as a matter of boyish amusement. 
 His own account of it may be given at length. He says: 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 19 
 
 It was in the village of Saratoga that I first saw a printing 
 office. Nothing had ever more impressed my young imagina- 
 tion than the mysteries of the typographical art, and nothing 
 ever afforded me more unalloyed delight than the opportunity 
 I now enjoyed to fathom these mysteries. I soon made ac- 
 quaintance with all the printers, and was indulged in my 
 passionate desire to be taught how to handle the " stick." 
 I had at length a regular " case " assigned me, and for months 
 I devoted to it all my hours out of school. I learned to " com- 
 pose/' " impose," " correct," and " distribute " type, became in 
 fact familiar with all branches of the art, except the working 
 of the press, to which my strength was not equal; but I 
 learned to wield the " balls " with a certain dexterity. It is 
 to be remembered that automatic printing was then unknown, 
 and that even the ink-rollers now in universal use had not 
 been invented. My skill thus became such that, had I at 
 any time in my life been compelled to rely for subsistence 
 on the labor of my hands, I could easily have earned my 
 living as a practical printer. Many years later, on entering 
 a printer's office in Tuskaloosa, Alabama, and observing a 
 " stickful " of " matter " standing by itself on an " imposing- 
 stone," the spirit of the craft impelled me to pick it up. 
 Immediately there arose a loud outcry from the printers in 
 the office, who expected to see the whole tumbled into a mass 
 of " pi." Setting it gently down, I said to them, " Do not be 
 concerned, gentlemen ; I am a printer myself." I was always 
 afterwards a great favorite in that office, for there is no craft 
 in which the feeling of brotherhood is stronger than in the 
 printer's. It seems to me that my voluntary apprenticeship 
 to the printer's trade was by no means an unimportant element 
 of my education. The " copy " which I " set up " embraced 
 many pages of instructive matter, and the hundreds of 
 " takes " which I put in type for the columns of The Saratoga 
 Sentinel early familiarized me with politics and the forms 
 of political controversy. But a principal advantage which I 
 derived from this experience was the confirmation of those 
 habits of concentration and persevering industry to which I 
 have owed whatever of success may have attended me in life. 
 I would not advise every father who destines his son to an 
 
20 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 intellectual life to insist on his making himself an expert in 
 some mechanical art ; but if the boy manifests an inclination 
 to do so, I would by all means encourage it ; and that, if for no 
 other reason, on account of the valuable mental discipline it 
 will afford him. 
 
 To the close of his life Dr. Barnard cherished pleasing 
 recollections of the years he spent at Saratoga and of his 
 young companions there. He regarded the influence of 
 companionship as one of the strongest educative forces to 
 which a boy or a young man can be subjected, powerful 
 for good or evil on the ethical side, and so powerfully stim- 
 ulative on the intellectual side " that a lad can hardly fail 
 to derive benefit from attending school, though he should 
 do nothing more than attend." Of his Saratoga school- 
 mates some were unfortunate, but more succeeded in 
 achieving honorable distinction in various walks of life. 
 One was for years the most famous criminal lawyer at the 
 New York bar ; and another, whose mental and moral 
 qualities won for him young Barnard's cordial admira- 
 tion, was afterwards a representative in Congress from 
 the State of Louisiana. Forty years later, when he 
 met the latter gentleman once more in the village of 
 Saratoga, he asked a question which elicited a rather 
 sagacious reply. "Why is it," inquired Dr. Barnard, 
 " that the people of South Carolina, who forced upon us 
 our first protective tariff in 1816, are now such bitter 
 anti-protectionists?" "However you may account for 
 it," was the answer, "you will find it to be invariably 
 true that when men's interests lie in a given direction, 
 it will not be long before their honest conviction will lie 
 in the same direction. The interests of South Carolina 
 are not now what they were in 1816 ! " 
 
 Two letters written by Frederick have been preserved. 
 The first was addressed to his father, and was evidently 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 21 
 
 intended as a specimen of his proficiency in English 
 composition. The second, in a freer and more familiar 
 style, was sent at the age of thirteen to one of his cousins, 
 requesting him to purchase a microscope which Frederick 
 needed "for a particular purpose." 
 
22 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 Stockbridge Academy and preparation for college The influence of 
 "other fellows" Barnard's schoolmates His mechanical pur- 
 suits Introduction to natural science Juvenile social science 
 Schoolboy pranks A case of discipline The terrors of proportion 
 
 Entrance examination at Yale Yale in 1824 to 1828 College 
 societies Barnard's contemporaries Social influences of college life 
 
 A distinguished career and a good degree Barnard becomes a 
 teacher in Hartford Grammar School, studies French, German, Italian, 
 and Spanish Becomes attached to the Episcopal Church. 
 
 AT the age of twelve Frederick was sent to an academy 
 at Stockbridge to prepare for Yale. The head master was 
 a Mr. Jared Curtis, who was always called Major Curtis, 
 but in what service he had held his military rank Freder- 
 ick never learned. The school work at Stockbridge was 
 less instructive than at Saratoga; in some particulars it 
 seems to have been incredibly defective. Arithmetic was 
 wholly neglected, and English composition, the only study 
 of which Dr. Barnard seems to have retained any strong 
 recollection, was taught in a way which he did not hesitate 
 to call detestable. The unlucky boys were left to choose 
 their own subjects and to write their compositions as 
 best they might. They naturally chose the most ambitious 
 themes, and treated them with a dreary verbosity which 
 revealed their ignorance. Dr. Barnard used to say that 
 teachers who follow such methods " ought to be proceeded 
 against by the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to 
 Children." 
 
 Yet the years spent at Stockbridge were rich and fruit- 
 ful in the educational development of Frederick Barnard; 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 23 
 
 for there, more than ever before, and more perhaps than 
 ever afterwards, he was stimulated by his contact with 
 " other fellows " and began to make the influence of his 
 own personality felt by companions of no mean capacity. 
 If the academy at Stockbridge was not a good school, it 
 was not for the lack of good materials to work on. Many 
 of the pupils became distinguished men. When young 
 Barnard went there, David Dudley Field had just left; 
 but Timothy and Matthew Field were there, and Cyrus 
 and Stephen Field followed them a few years later. 
 Among his other contemporaries were Chester Averil, 
 who, before his early death, became a brilliant professor 
 at Union College; Ashley Curtis, an eminent mycologist, 
 whose life was spent in South Carolina ; William Pitt 
 Palmer, a poet of considerable promise, who quenched the 
 spark of poesy in Wall Street; Theodore Sedgwick, grand- 
 son of Judge Theodore Sedgwick of Revolutionary fame, 
 and himself an able writer on law and literature, who was 
 president of the New York International Exposition of 
 1853 ; John Henry Hopkins, a well-known engineer; 
 Albert Hopkins, afterwards professor of physics at Wil- 
 liams College; and a more distinguished brother of the 
 last named, who was to become the famous college presi- 
 dent, Mark Hopkins. Of all these it was a significant 
 fact that Mark Hopkins was singled out as the natural 
 but friendly rival of Frederick Barnard. After nearly 
 seventy years one of the "Stockbridge boys" gave this 
 account of them: 
 
 In all our intellectual contests, debating societies and spell- 
 ing classes, the two future college presidents, Dr. Hopkins 
 and Dr. Barnard, were always pitted against each other as 
 leaders of the contending forces. Our contentions were vigo- 
 rous and earnest, but amiable and good natured, resulting in a 
 pleasant esprit du corps among the boy students. The two 
 
24 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 leaders were congenial spirits ; both were born educators, and 
 they were pure and lovable boys. With tine physiques, per- 
 sonly attractive, amiable in temper, genial in intercourse, 
 refined in sentiment, dignified in manner, firm in their con- 
 victions of right and duty, and unfaltering in the pursuit of 
 high ideals, they disarmed envy and prejudice, and made only 
 friends. Their lives were pure in every way. They indulged 
 in no profane, vulgar, or harsh language ; much less were they 
 guilty of any low or unkind conduct. Tobacco in all its forms, 
 they eschewed instinctively. While keenly appreciating wit 
 and humor, and both relishing and telling good stories, they 
 had no tolerance for any of a coarse or offensive character. 
 They were equally intolerant of jokes that could pain or mor- 
 tify another. They saw neither humor nor smartness in crush- 
 ing a comrade's hat over his eyes, or throwing his cap into a 
 puddle, or pulling his hair " on the sly," or pinning absurd labels 
 on his back. If he was weak in the attic, they tried to help 
 encourage him ; if he was intrusive, conceited, or overbearing, 
 they would play the part of Socrates with him and lead him 
 into some intellectual quagmire from which he could escape 
 only by admitting that he did not know everything. 
 
 In the boyish sports and simple athletic exercises of the 
 lads at Stockbridge Barnard held his own with the best, 
 and in other amusements requiring mechanical ingenuity 
 and dexterity in construction he had no competitor. It 
 was remarked that Barnard's toy-pistol shot best, and that 
 his kites flew furthest. The pistol was entirely of his own 
 making. The barrel was a short piece of elder with the 
 pith punched out and with the orifice bored a little larger; 
 the missile was an arrow-like rod, with the feather-end 
 projecting somewhat from the rear of the barrel; the pro- 
 jecting force was the impulse of a smart spring, made from 
 the stem of the mountain ivy and attached by a stock to 
 the barrel of the pistol. The kites were perfected only 
 after long and patient experiment. It was found that a 
 heavy kite could not fly high. It was also found that a 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 25 
 
 heavy string was like so much dead weight when attached 
 to a light kite. The consequence of these observations 
 was the invention of a "thread-kite," scarcely twelve 
 inches in length by eight inches across the bow, which 
 weighed hardly an ounce and required only a brown thread 
 for a string. When made on this model, the kite could 
 be sent off to a distance of more than a mile; but it was 
 a great disappointment to Barnard that after rising to a 
 certain considerable height, it would rise no higher, but 
 when more string was " paid out " would only go further 
 off horizontally. For that undesirable physical fact there 
 appeared to be no remedy; but to expedite the tedious 
 process of winding in a mile of thread when his play was 
 over, Barnard invented a simple apparatus on the principle 
 of a weaver's " quill- wheel," by which the spool was made 
 to revolve with great rapidity by means of a driving-wheel 
 and band. All of his inventions were not so successful as 
 his kites and pistols. He became ambitious to construct 
 a balloon, and having mastered the principles of the thing, 
 he concluded that a hog's bladder would exactly suit his 
 purpose. Unfortunately, he neglected to compare the 
 weight of the membrane with the buoyant power of the 
 gas with which it was to be filled, and when his balloon 
 came to be inflated, it was found to have only one defect 
 it would not rise. 
 
 About that time itinerant lecturers began to travel 
 through the country, discoursing on chemistry, electric- 
 ity, magnetism, optics, pneumatics, and astronomy, 
 usually illustrating their lectures with practical experi- 
 ments. One of these lecturers, Mr. Josiah Holbrook, 
 well known as an educational reformer, visited Stock- 
 bridge. His apparatus was simple and his experiments 
 were slight enough, but such as they were, they fascinated 
 Frederick Barnard. The glimpses they gave him of the 
 
26 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 operation of the natural forces roused in him a strong 
 resolve to learn more and inspired him with an ambition 
 to make experiments on his own account. By dint of 
 much labor, and by converting many homely utensils to 
 unaccustomed uses, he contrived to supply himself with 
 quite an array of scientific apparatus, and soon became 
 an amateur lecturer on physics to his wondering school- 
 mates. He had no books ; at that time there were hardly 
 any school books on such subjects ; but at length, during 
 one of his vacations at home, he had the good fortune to 
 light on a small text-book belonging to his sister, entitled 
 Blake's First Lessons in Natural Philosophy. He read it 
 through from cover to cover, almost without stopping ; 
 and meagre as it was, it contained very much that was 
 new to him. Best of all, it suggested a variety of ex- 
 periments which he was able to make for himself, and 
 which he did make with infinite satisfaction. It was 
 out of his own experience that Dr. Barnard came to 
 the conclusion that, in the education of children, it is a 
 fatal mistake to substitute the study of words for the 
 observation of things. 
 
 It has always seemed to me [he said] to be the great, as it 
 is the almost universal, educational mistake of our time, that 
 children, instead of being introduced to subjects which address 
 the perceptive faculties, and which are adapted to furnish them 
 with a flood of novel and clearly comprehensible ideas, are 
 usually condemned to the dreary study of unintelligible words, 
 which impose a heavy burden on the memory and are only 
 apprehended after the understanding has become matured with 
 advancing years. 
 
 His new acquirements and his aptitude as a "born 
 teacher" soon made young Barnard's "Evenings at 
 Home " both instructive and entertaining to the family 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 27 
 
 circle. Thus Mr. Holly, the friend of his boyhood, from 
 whose reminiscences we have already given an extract, 
 records that, at a pleasant gathering of young people 
 one evening at Sheffield, one of the girls proposed to 
 vary the amusement with lectures, and called on Bar- 
 nard to open the course. He at once complied, and seeing 
 an ornamental pair of bellows hanging by the fireplace, 
 he took up the bellows and delivered a discourse on 
 the properties of air, which was received with great ap- 
 plause. Song and other music followed, and he was 
 called upon to deliver a second lecture. He again com- 
 plied, and took for his theme the poetical side of litera- 
 ture, not omitting, however, when dealing with love and 
 moonshine, to give some account of astronomical phe- 
 nomena and the majestic courses of the stars. 
 
 Barnard was not idle in his vacations at home ; but he 
 seems to have been occupied with things rather than with 
 books, and he had already begun to ponder the social 
 problems in which he never ceased to take an interest. 
 His favorite resort was the famous Salisbury Iron Works, 
 where he watched with untiring interest the whole process 
 of melting the ore and moulding the metal. 
 
 When the furnace blew out [says Mr. Holly], the stack con- 
 tinued to be red hot for several weeks, and the vapor was so 
 dense that the bottom could not be distinguished. To look 
 down into it was like peering into the depths of Sheol. Bar- 
 nard happened to be at Salisbury late one fall soon after the 
 furnace blew out. In an afternoon we strayed into the " top 
 house," and after taking a look into the fiery depths we found 
 the warmth at the top so agreeable and the gloaming light so 
 genial that we sat down on two inverted boxes and soon fell 
 into a train of familiar conversation on progress and reform. 
 The reforms projected by our youthful imagination were of the 
 most fundamental and comprehensive character. We held 
 that every child born into the world is entitled to a living, to 
 
28 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 care, food, raiment, training, and education. If parents failed 
 to supply these, the State ought to compel them to do their 
 duty; in cases of orphanage the State should take entire 
 charge of the children. All wrong was ultimately to be, not 
 righted, but prevented, by educating the minds, the souls, and 
 the bodies of the people, so that no one should wish to do 
 wrong. There were to be no empty stomachs to breed anarchy 
 or agrarianism. Time was to be fairly divided into proper 
 periods for education, work, rest, and recreation. Honest 
 work was to be rewarded with bread, butter, tea, coffee, sugar, 
 milk, and money enough to satisfy the reasonable wants of a 
 good citizen. Whoever would not work should have only 
 bread and water. Gardens of the gods were to be as plentiful 
 as potato fields ; the streets in towns and villages were to be 
 bordered with trees, shrubs, and flowers, and the country high- 
 ways were to be adorned in like manner with fruit trees of 
 divers kinds for public use. Dancing and good manners should 
 be taught in all schools, and music should be encouraged and 
 sustained at public expense. Apothecaries should still be 
 required to label poisonous drugs as poisons and severely 
 fined for any injuries that might be caused by their neglect ; 
 but the State should accept no bribe from rumsellers for the 
 privilege of selling unlabelled poisons without responsibility 
 for the ruinous evils which are wrought by their traffic. Jails 
 and penitentiaries were to be few; schoolhouses, academies, 
 and churches numerous. The poorest human habitation should 
 be a neat and commodious cottage, while public buildings 
 should surpass in beauty and grandeur the most splendid 
 architecture of all previous castles of Spain. 
 
 These were dreams of boyhood, visions of Utopia; but 
 they were at least dreams of such a boyhood as develops 
 into generous manhood; and the visions of a far-off or 
 impossible Utopia were at least prophetic revelations of 
 the strenuous and noble life that had begun to be. 
 
 But the man was still a boy, and his school life, blameless 
 and studious as it was, had its occasional boyish frolics, as 
 the following reminiscence of Mr. Holly testifies. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 29 
 
 The main square of old Stockbridge [he says] was called 
 Academy Square, because the Academy stood at its northeast 
 corner. Diagonally opposite the Academy was an unusually 
 large, three-story hostelry, kept by a kindly Boniface named 
 Hicks, with stoops on the two streets, which afforded a central 
 and convenient lounging-place and head-quarters for planning 
 excursions. Among the inn refreshments for elderly people 
 were " slings " compounded of spirits, sugar, and hot or cold 
 water, according to the season, and spiced with grated nutmeg. 
 In cold weather, a toasted cracker, about the diameter of the 
 top of the tumbler and half an inch thick, was added. This 
 was called a " toad." A milder beverage for younger people 
 was a " sangaree " prepared in the same way, but substituting 
 wine for stronger liquor. One pleasant Saturday afternoon in 
 the autumn, while sunning ourselves on the south stoop and 
 chatting about refreshments for a proposed picnic, crackers 
 were mentioned but objected to because they were such dry 
 and thirsty eating. It was suggested that we should test the 
 matter experimentally, and a wager was laid that one boy could 
 not eat six crackers while another boy walked around the square. 
 The two champions were Fenn years later Judge Fenn of a 
 Massachusetts court and myself. Fenn undertook the walk, 
 and I took the crackers. Barnard and two other boys were to 
 accompany Fenn to see that he did not run, while the other 
 boys remained with me to see that there should be no surrepti- 
 tious disposition of the crackers. Time was called and the work 
 began, legs against jaws. My watchers encouraged me by 
 asking occasionally, if I would like a little fine sand sprinkled 
 on the crackers, or a few choke-cherries a strong astringent 
 to eat with them. The boys with Fenn did him the like 
 service by warning him not to swing his arms, lest he should 
 hit somebody, or asking if he would like a few baked apple 
 cores along the walk to give him a firm footing. Time flew ; 
 the home stretch was looked for with intense interest ; the last 
 corner was turned; Fenn was working his legs for all that 
 they could accomplish while I was crushing between my palms 
 the remains of the last cracker ; but just as he reached the last 
 column of the stoop next to the goal, I forced down the last 
 crumb with a final and desperate gulp, winning, not by a neck, 
 
30 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 but by a mouth, and of course the Fenn party furnished the 
 " sangaree." Nearly half a century afterwards I accidentally 
 met Judge Fenn at the same hostelry, and we had a " right 
 gude willie waught for auld lang syne." 
 
 Playful as he was, Barnard, in all his school and college 
 career, had but one dispute with his superiors, and that 
 occurred at Stockbridge. The number of pupils at the 
 Academy had increased so rapidly that Major Curtis was 
 obliged to secure the aid of an assistant, a gentleman who 
 was still alive in 1885. Dr. Barnard described him as, 
 in some respects, the most extraordinary scholar he had 
 ever known. In the class-room he never took a book in 
 his hand, but seemed to carry the whole text in his mind, 
 quoting sentences at length, referring to particular words, 
 and even mentioning their places on the page, with un- 
 failing accuracy. In or out of the class-room, if he was 
 asked a question, he replied without hesitation, never 
 referring to grammar or dictionary for a rule, an excep- 
 tion, or a definition. The boys regarded him as a 
 prodigy, but he had the great misfortune to be deficient 
 in the qualities by which he might have won their confi- 
 dence and affection. In discipline he was something of 
 a martinet, and he soon became a terror to every young- 
 ster in the school. The tutor called Barnard to account 
 for some offence which he considered to be serious, but 
 which Barnard did not admit to have been an offence. 
 He did not seem to be disposed to resort to the extreme 
 measure of reporting the boy to Major Curtis for punish- 
 ment, and offered to let the matter drop, if Barnard 
 would make a suitable apology. The boy refused, and 
 chose rather to submit to a public censure in the presence 
 of the whole school. He felt the public reprimand keenly; 
 but he did not believe he had deserved it, and he would 
 not avert his punishment by making an insincere apology. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 31 
 
 The censure pronounced upon him he considered to be 
 merely a technical disgrace, and in bearing it he had the 
 great consolation of the abounding sympathies of his 
 companions. Everything considered, this painful ex- 
 perience was doubtless salutary in its effects, by draw- 
 ing out and strengthening that principle of unfaltering 
 and uncompromising self-respect which, in after life, was 
 so remarkable a feature of Dr. Barnard's character. 
 
 At length his school days came to their predestined 
 close. In leaving Stockbridge young Barnard had little 
 to regret, except, as he lamented afterwards, that he had 
 not availed himself of certain opportunities of learning 
 Hebrew and Spanish, and that his efforts to acquire the 
 art of stenography had been only so far successful as to 
 enable him to write mysterious-looking characters which 
 he could not read a few hours after they were written. 
 These, however, were light matters which the dread of 
 his approaching examination for admission to Yale cast 
 completely into the shade. It was a singular fact that 
 since he left the village school of Sheffield he had paid 
 not the least attention to arithmetic, and arithmetic was 
 one of the subjects included in the Yale examination, for 
 which he was otherwise well prepared. On reaching 
 home in the early summer, he took counsel with a cousin 
 who was then just out of his sophomore year at Yale, and 
 was advised to devote the next two months to Webber's 
 Arithmetic, paying particular attention to the doctrine 
 of Proportion. His diligence was quickened by his 
 apprehensions, for in those days the usages of Yale did 
 not allow of half-way admission to college " on condition." 
 After his examination a boy was either in college or out 
 of it. He might "scramble through" and founder 
 further on ; but for the time being his examination was 
 decisive, so that unless young Barnard could pass in arith- 
 
32 MEMOIES OF 
 
 metic, lie had no right to expect that he would be ad- 
 mitted. It may be well to say here that after all his 
 large experience as a professor and president of colleges, 
 Dr. Barnard never approved of half-way admissions to 
 college "on conditions." Happily, he found the text- 
 book recommended by his cousin to be helpful to him, 
 because "it told the why of things." He mastered its 
 contents from beginning to end before the dreaded exami- 
 nation came on, and it was to that time that he referred 
 his first taste for mathematics. 
 
 His account of the examination at New Haven is amus- 
 ing. 
 
 At the appropriate time I went to New Haven, my father 
 accompanying me. Arithmetic as a whole no longer troubled 
 me, but that ominous advice about Proportion weighed like a 
 ton of lead upon my heart. I suspected that Proportion was 
 the particular club with which it was customary to knock too 
 presumptuous sub-Freshmen on the head. The morning after 
 my arrival I entered upon the scene of my anticipated torture. 
 Singularly enough there is extant a letter in which, on the fol- 
 lowing day, I gave to my mother a full account of the proceed- 
 ings. The applicants for admission were divided into squads 
 of moderate numbers each. Mine consisted of eight victims 
 besides myself. The examination was entirely oral, and was 
 completed at a single session. One officer conducted the 
 examination in all the subjects, while another sat by and 
 looked on. My examiner was Professor Silliman, who, though 
 Professor of Chemistry, took us up on Virgil, Cicero, the Greek 
 Testament, Graeca Minora, Xenophon, Geography, and Arith- 
 metic, all apparently with equal facility. When at last I was 
 called up on Arithmetic, the subject of Proportion projected 
 itself before my mental vision in colossal dimensions ; I felt 
 quite sure that I should mix it up with the cube root and cir- 
 culating decimals ; but to my great astonishment and relief, this 
 important topic seemed to slip the mind of my examiner alto- 
 gether, and after asking me a question or two about numerators 
 and denominators and ascertaining my general notions of vul- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNAKD 33 
 
 gar fractions, he let the subject drop and passed on. I watched 
 the entire examination carefully and noted with surprise that 
 not a boy was asked a single word about Proportion ! At one 
 time during the proceedings the President walked into the room 
 and took a seat ; but he made no remark, and though he looked 
 dignified and grave, I could not but think that he looked a 
 little bored also. When the whole ceremony was over, we 
 were requested to step into the corridor for a moment; but 
 after a brief delay, " while one with moderate haste might tell 
 an hundred," we were recalled and informed that we had all 
 been admitted to the freshman class. 
 
 Thus Barnard was at last a collegian, and his career at 
 Yale was a distinguished one. Though he was the young- 
 est member of an unusually strong class, he took a high 
 stand from the first. Before the close of his sophomore 
 year he was recognized as the leader of the whole college 
 in Pure Mathematics and the exact sciences. At his grad- 
 uation in 1828 he stood second in the honor list, being out- 
 ranked only by Horace Binney, Jr., of Philadelphia, who 
 excelled him in the classics. His diligence and good 
 behavior won for him the high esteem of his superiors, 
 and his courtesy and geniality made him popular among 
 his fellow-students. Few incidents of his college life 
 have been preserved beyond those which he has himself 
 recorded in the following notes. His account of Yale 
 College as it was in 1824-1828 will be interesting to all 
 Yale students, and his observations on the system which 
 was then established there cannot fail to be of interest to 
 educators. 
 
 The two or three years [he says] that followed my entrance 
 into college were years of earnest and persevering labor ; but 
 although I was apparently surrounded by many educational in- 
 fluences, and enjoying, or supposed to enjoy, the instruction of 
 many eminent educators, it was to me a period of almost literal 
 self -education. There were two reasons for this : The first is 
 
34 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 that no man at Yale who aspired to be ranked as a scholar was 
 permitted by public opinion to obtain any assistance from any 
 quarter whatever, even from his immediate tutor, in preparing 
 himself for his daily scholastic exercises. He must stand up 
 boldly before his class, relying on his own resources exclusively, 
 and " take his chance." If he acquitted himself well, all honor 
 was awarded him; if he "stuck" or "flunked," he lost caste 
 in proportion to the gravity of the case. Scholastic rank in 
 college depended, then, as literary or professional rank in the 
 world depends always, upon the consensus of opinion of the 
 community which sees and judges it. There was no such thing 
 then as an artificial grade founded on numerical valuations of 
 particular performances. A man's superiority was acknowl- 
 edged because it was felt, not because he could point to a high 
 " mark " on the term record. Every man was constrained to 
 show what he was capable of doing without help, and for that 
 reason students profited little from the aid of their instructors 
 in meeting current difficulties. As a partial compensation, it 
 was allowed to seek such aid when the ordeal had been met ; 
 but even then it did not tend to exalt the reputation of a 
 scholar to avail himself of the privilege. 
 
 The other course, which seriously limited the magnitude of 
 my apparent advantage, was that, according to the usages then 
 prevailing at Yale, a student scarcely came into mental contact 
 with a professor before his senior year. In the junior year, it 
 is true, there were lectures from the Professors of Chemistry 
 and Physics ; but they were interjected into what were called 
 the " study hours," the regular periodical exercises of the day 
 not being interrupted on account of them. They added some- 
 thing to our knowledge, no doubt, but their proper educational 
 influence was slight. Leaving these lectures out of view, the 
 plan of operation was the following : Every class at entrance 
 was broken up into divisions of about forty students each, and 
 the tutor assigned to each division remained its sole instructor 
 in all branches of study whatsoever to the end of the junior 
 year. This tradition was first broken in the third year of my 
 own class, when Professor Olmsted [then newly appointed to 
 his chair] voluntarily relieved our tutor of his classes in me- 
 chanics and physics. He did so, as he told me himself frankly, 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 35 
 
 for the sake of getting himself up afresh in those subjects, to 
 which he had paid no attention while filling the chair of Chem- 
 istry and Natural History in the University of North Carolina. 
 I must admit that the Professor of Ancient Languages came 
 into the class-room once or twice during our sophomore year ; 
 and I cannot omit to mention that the Professor of Oratory 
 presided when we "spoke" in our turns in the chapel on 
 "Wednesday afternoons. It was his custom to hear us read our 
 " pieces " before they were publicly delivered, and he usually 
 made a few remarks on the merits or demerits of our perform- 
 ance when we had left the rostrum. The only one of his critical 
 observations which survives in my memory was that there are 
 only five words in the English language in which it is permis- 
 sible to sound the termination ed as a separate syllable, viz. : 
 blessed, cursed, learned, striped, and streaked a limitation 
 which I have since found to be too narrow. 
 
 My section, or " division," as it was called, was placed at 
 first under the care of Mr. Josiah Brewer, who left us at the 
 end of the first year to devote himself to a missionary life 
 in Syria. He was succeeded by William M. Holland, Esq., 
 a man of singular ability, afterwards a professor in Trinity 
 College, Hartford, who passed away in the prime of life. To 
 him I was indebted for many acts of kindness, and for more 
 useful counsel and encouragement in my educational career 
 than to any other of my instructors except Professor Olmsted, 
 who treated me from the first with marked interest and, indeed, 
 almost as a son. The President, Dr. Day, was a man of gentle 
 and kindly heart, but grave in aspect and rather formal in 
 deportment; and although he was regarded by the students 
 generally with affection, it was rather a reverential than a 
 glowing affection. During our senior year he gave us instruc- 
 tion in psychology and in political economy, and without 
 being brilliant, he was always interesting. Professor Silliman 
 was universally admired. He had a wonderful command of lan- 
 guage, and in his unwritten lectures on chemistry, mineralogy, 
 and geology, there were frequent bursts of genuine eloquence. 
 Professor Goodrich, of Oratory, and Professor Kingsley, of 
 Ancient Languages, though able men, left but slight impression 
 on me. These gentlemen were all the instructors then holding 
 
36 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 rank as professors in Yale College; but no fewer than seven- 
 teen tutors held office, though not all simultaneously, during 
 my time. Of these, five subsequently became professors in 
 colleges and four others college presidents. The most dis- 
 tinguished among them was President T. D. Woolsey, who 
 succeeded Dr. Day at Yale, and held office for twenty-five 
 years. He is still [1886], after fifteen years of retirement, in 
 the enjoyment of a hale and honorable old age. President 
 Woolsey was one of the tutors of my class, though not of 
 my division. 
 
 As I look back upon it, no part of my training at Yale 
 College seems to me to have been more beneficial than that 
 which I derived from the practice of writing and speaking in 
 the literary society to which I belonged. The general literary 
 societies, open to students of all the classes, and numbering one 
 or two hundred members each, were maintained at that time 
 with great enthusiasm. I am told that they are now extinct at 
 New Haven. They have been supplanted, I suppose, by the 
 multiplicity of small secret associations which decorate them- 
 selves with Greek-letter titles, but which if they are literary 
 at all, as they possibly are, though I doubt it can never furnish 
 the stimulus of a large audience. I can only regret the change. 
 It seems to me that, with the loss of her literary societies, half 
 the glory of Yale has departed from her. In the old Linonia 
 Hall I spent many of the most profitable hours of my college 
 life ; and I heard debates there which for interest and brilliancy 
 were equal to any at which I have since been privileged to be 
 present in assemblies of much superior dignity. There were 
 some men of my time who made no very serious struggle for 
 grade scholarship, and yet would sometimes "come out strong" 
 in the society. For the sake of students of this class, who will 
 always be more or less numerous in every college, I should 
 esteem it a great advantage if the old societies could be 
 resuscitated. 
 
 I cannot close these slight reminiscences of my college life 
 without mentioning a few of my classmates. The name which 
 stood, in alphabetic order, at the head of our catalogue, was 
 that of Thomas Gold Alvord, who is still living [1886] in honor- 
 able retirement, after being nine times elected to the Assembly 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 37 
 
 of the State of New York. He was twice Speaker of the As- 
 sembly, and for one term he presided over the Senate by virtue 
 of his office as Lieutenant-Governor. Another was Christo- 
 pher Morgan, once Secretary of State of the State of New York, 
 and member of Congress from Mr. Seward's district. A third 
 was W. TV. Hoppin, afterwards Governor of the State of Rhode 
 Island. A fourth was Oliver E. Daggett, later Professor of 
 Didactic Theology at Yale. A fifth was Henry N. Day, Pro- 
 fessor of Sacred Rhetoric and Theology in Western Reserve 
 College. Another was William Strong, who has served as an 
 Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States ; 
 and another still was John Van Buren, " Prince John," who 
 was certainly one of the most effective political speakers our 
 country has ever seen. He abounded in dry humor. On one 
 occasion, replying to the assertion that the people wanted some- 
 thing or other, he inquired, " How do you know ? I am one 
 of the people and I don't want it." 
 
 As to the social influences of college life upon those who 
 mingle in it, I have a word to say. In institutions like Yale, 
 Harvard, Princeton, and others, where large numbers of young 
 men are domiciled together, secluded from the world, screened 
 from the eye of society, subjected to a merely nominal oversight 
 by the academic authorities, and wholly unanswerable to munic- 
 ipal surveillance or control, the influence of "the other fellows " 
 is powerfully effective in the formation of personal habits and 
 opinions, and consequently in the moulding of character. With 
 all restraint practically withdrawn at an age when the faculty 
 of self-control is still feeble, and with temptations presenting 
 themselves in the most fascinating forms on every side, a young 
 man's natural love of pleasure and his propensity to self-indul- 
 gence do not need the stimulus of example or the attraction of 
 companionship to make them dangerous. But in a body of 
 four or five hundred young men of every variety of social con- 
 dition, there can never fail to be some who are fonder of amuse- 
 ment than of study; and their amusements will not always 
 be innocent. These young men are often attractive in manner 
 and genial in disposition, and consequently they are popular. 
 Popularity is a great thing in college. The popular man 
 wields an influence over his fellows which is almost unlimited, 
 
38 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 and when the popular man is also a vicious man, he becomes a 
 fearful agent of moral contamination. This is strong language, 
 but it is justified by the number of distressing moral wrecks 
 which fell under my own observation during my college life. 
 The greater number of the young men who resort to cloistered 
 colleges no doubt escape demoralization ; but of those who do 
 escape, many are saved only " so as by fire " ; and there is 
 hardly one who will not confess that the tendency to vulgarity in 
 language and the prevalent contempt for the conventional pro- 
 prieties of life have often been such as to shock his moral 
 sense. On the other hand, men of determined will, who struggle 
 successfully against all this and succeed in keeping themselves 
 unspotted from the grosser world, find in each other's society 
 an improving and educating influence of the highest value ; 
 and of all the benefits derived by such men from their college 
 experiences none are remembered with keener appreciation 
 than those which resulted from their association with "the 
 other fellows." 
 
 When a young man has taken his degree of Bachelor of Arts, 
 it is customary to say of him that he has " completed his educa- 
 tion." As a rule, and at the moment, the phrase expresses very 
 well his own opinion of himself. But in so far as education con- 
 sists in the acquisition of knowledge, he will soon find himself 
 to have been deceived. It was so with me. In my under- 
 graduate life I thought rather favorably of my attainments. 
 It was only after graduation that I began to be conscious how 
 little I knew. XJomniencement occurred in my year on Wed- 
 nesday, the 10th of September, and on the Monday following 
 I entered upon office as a teacher in the Hartford Grammar 
 School an institution in which, for time out of mind, it had 
 been customary to break in recent Yale graduates for service 
 as tutors of the college. As it was my purpose, while at 
 Hartford, to prosecute my reading in physics and the higher 
 mathematics, I became at once aware that, with a knowledge 
 of no other modern language than my own, I could not make a 
 single step of satisfactory progress. It seemed to me that I 
 had a new education before me, in which I must begin at the 
 beginning. I took up first the French language, and, without 
 a teacher, by dint of hard study and resolute perseverance, I 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 39 
 
 fixed in my memory all the pronouns, connectives, and irregu- 
 lar verbs contained in the tables of Levizac [the grammar then 
 in vogue], after which I learned to read rapidly. I would not 
 venture to say that my method is the best. It is not Mr. 
 Sauveur's, I believe ; but any one who will try it as I did, will 
 find it effectual. The successful study of French encouraged 
 me to attack German, Italian, and Spanish in much the same 
 way. More than twenty years later, when a translation of 
 Miss Fredrika Bremer's Hemmen i Nya Verlden had been 
 published in the United States in which, by the by, the 
 prudent publisher had suppressed everything she had said, and 
 she said some things very plainly, about the " peculiar institu- 
 tion" of the South I learned the Swedish language, only 
 that I might get the whole story in the original. I afterward 
 extended my study to the Danish. 
 
 It was during his college life that Barnard first became 
 attached to the Protestant Episcopal Church. The Cal- 
 vinistic Congregationalism in which he had been reared 
 had never won his personal adhesion ; but it had inspired 
 him with somewhat vehement prejudices against other 
 forms of Christianity. He regarded the Episcopal Church 
 with particular aversion on account of its liturgy, its 
 vestments, and even the use of the organ in public 
 worship. It happened, however, that one of his college 
 friends who was preparing to enter the Congregational 
 ministry was a devout admirer of the Book of Common 
 Prayer, and through him Barnard was induced to make 
 a study of the Prayer Book which ended in a complete 
 removal of his prejudices against liturgical worship. 
 Another friend, a devoted churchman, who made very 
 little pretension to personal piety, but who expected 
 nevertheless to take orders as soon as possible after his 
 graduation, was a strenuous maintainer of the peculiar 
 claims of the Episcopal ministry by virtue of its apostoli- 
 cal succession. He urged his views upon Barnard, and 
 
40 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 gave him several such works as Onderdonk's Episcopacy 
 Tested ly Scripture, Law's Letters to Bishop Hoadly, and 
 Chapman's famous Sermons. The historical argument, 
 rather, perhaps, than the critical, convinced Barnard 
 that Episcopacy was either of direct apostolical institu- 
 tion or an universal, and therefore normal, development 
 of the ministry established by the Apostles of Christ. 
 Accordingly, he wrote with many misgivings to ask his 
 father's permission to attend the Episcopal Church instead 
 of the College Chapel. It soon appeared that his appre- 
 hensions had been groundless. Colonel Barnard appears to 
 have been one of the many quiet and conscientious people 
 who conformed to the prevailing type of Christianity 
 and did nothing to discredit it, but who still preferred 
 the older customs of their Mother Church. His consent 
 to Frederick's request was given without hesitation 
 and was accompanied with a frank confession that he 
 himself would have been glad, if it had been possible, 
 to attend the Episcopal Church and to bring up his 
 family within its pale. Thus Frederick became an 
 attendant at the services of that church, but he was 
 not confirmed for several years. At that time the 
 Episcopal Church in Connecticut and elsewhere was 
 strongly leavened with Puritanism. Confirmation, and 
 not baptism, was generally regarded as the act of 
 "joining the church"; and in taking that grave step 
 the candidate was understood to make a "profession 
 of religion" rather than a confession of faith and an 
 acknowledgment of sacred obligation. Barnard, as ap- 
 pears from his correspondence, was deeply impressed 
 with the importance of religion, but he was not prepared 
 to make any profession of religious attainment, and his 
 confirmation did not take place at that time. 
 
FBEDERICK A, P. BARNABD 41 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 Barnard as a teacher Enters on the study of law His associate, 
 William Carter Newspaper controversies Miss Catherine Beecher 
 and her school Fanny Fern as a girl George D. Prentice, John G. 
 Whittier, and The New England Review Barnard as an editor His 
 first essay in authorship A Fourth of July oration Barnard's hear- 
 ing impaired His early literary efforts Park Benjamin Barnard 
 becomes a tutor at Yale. 
 
 ON September 15th, 1828, Frederick Barnard began 
 his career as a teacher in the Hartford Grammar School, 
 a classical school which had long served the double pur- 
 pose of preparing boys for college and of exercising 
 future tutors of Yale College in the art of teaching. 
 The plan of the school had recently been so extended 
 as to make its advantages available to boys who were 
 intended for business life as well as for lads who were 
 to enter college. Mr. Barrows, afterwards the Rev. 
 Professor Barrows, a graduate of two years' standing, 
 had chosen to retain his position in the Grammar School 
 instead of returning as a tutor to Yale, and by virtue 
 of his seniority became head master. He was a man 
 of earnest and devoted piety, beloved by all who came 
 into contact with him, and distinguished for the zealous 
 energy with which he performed the duties of his office. 
 His chief assistants were Mr. Barnard, who had general 
 charge of the classes in mathematics, and Mr. after- 
 wards the Rev. William Carter, who taught the classics. 
 A third assistant was employed to teach writing and 
 arithmetic. Each instructor had a separate room in 
 which to hear the recitations of his classes, and in each 
 
42 MBMOIKS OF 
 
 of those rooms a certain number of pupils had their 
 permanent desks. Among those who were thus under 
 Mr. Barnard's special charge were two lads who after- 
 wards became presidents of colleges. 
 
 After more than half a century had passed away, 
 Dr. Barnard could not forget the feeling of blank dis- 
 may with which he faced for the first time the hand- 
 ful of small boys to whom he now stood in the relation 
 of master. 
 
 I have since addressed great and imposing audiences [he 
 said] such as legislative bodies, popular assemblies, religious 
 organizations, temperance conventions, scientific associations 
 and meetings of all sorts, embracing every variety of age, 
 intelligence, and culture; but I have never felt again the 
 inward tremor with which I presented myself for the first 
 time before the squad of boys who were waiting to greet me 
 in the Hartford Grammar School. 
 
 He had the instinctive tact, however, to make his 
 pupils understand that he felt sincerely interested in 
 them. He was at pains to catch their way of thinking, 
 and by striving to sympathize with them he won their 
 sympathy and confidence. He joined heartily, and yet 
 with no loss of dignity, in their sports, and in the hours 
 of study the boys with whom he had been playing were 
 easily managed by a master who had won their good- 
 will. There is no doubt that he made a singular im- 
 pression on his pupils. One of them, the Rev. Dr. 
 A. L. Chapin, President of Beloit College, Wisconsin, 
 wrote of him in these terms in 1870 : 
 
 Mr. Barnard, more than any of the others, impressed the 
 boys with a sense of his superiority. Like almost all men of 
 genius, he was somewhat variable and moody, but at times 
 brilliant. Sometimes, in a fit of abstraction, he would sit for 
 half an hour together with his head bowed on his desk, observ- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 43 
 
 ing nothing that passed, the boys meantime being restrained 
 from disorder only by a kind of unconscious sympathy with 
 the teacher's mood. Then he would rally, and throw, perhaps 
 into the elocutionary exercises of Porter's Analysis, a glow of 
 life that thrilled and quickened the favored class assigned to 
 him, and especially when for variety of illustration, he would 
 give a reading of his own from Shakespeare. Some passages 
 from The Merchant of Venice always bring him before me. 
 Under his instructions, too, though somewhat outside of his 
 regular department, the Latin of Cicero's De Amicitia or of the 
 Agricola of Tacitus was clothed with a charm it has never lost 
 for me. 
 
 There were good reasons for the occasional abstractions 
 of the young teacher. In the second year of his service 
 at the Grammar School there fell upon him the first gloom 
 of a heavy cloud, to be mentioned presently, which was 
 to shadow his whole life ; but independently of that, he 
 was by habit and principle an ardent student. His 
 delight was in the higher mathematics, and in order to 
 pursue his mathematical studies to advantage he set 
 himself diligently to the acquisition, first of French, and 
 afterwards of German, Spanish, and Italian. At the 
 same time he began the study of law under the direction 
 of Jonathan Edwards, Esq., a member of the Hartford 
 bar with whom he had entered himself as a law student. 
 Law, and not teaching, was the profession to which he 
 expected and desired to devote his life ; and during his 
 first year at the Grammar School he became profoundly 
 interested in Blackstone's Commentaries. Thus mathe- 
 matics, languages, and law kept him constantly engaged. 
 On his desk he had always some book to be used in the 
 intervals between the recitations of his classes and in the 
 tedious hours when idle lads were "kept in" after school 
 to atone for sins of omission or commission during the 
 day. It is not improbable that he sometimes uncon 
 
44 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 sciously lengthened the intervals between his recitations, 
 and it is barely possible that other motives than the 
 sympathy mentioned by President Chapin may have 
 kept the boys from disturbing the brown studies of their 
 teacher. 
 
 Mr. Barnard's relations to his associates in the Gram- 
 mar School, and particularly to Mr. Carter, were exceed- 
 ingly happy. Carter had been a classmate and an 
 intimate friend of his in college, and after their associa- 
 tion at Hartford they served together as tutors in Yale. 
 Their friendship was founded on sincere mutual esteem 
 and lasted all their lives. Carter, while still in his 
 sophomore year at college, had become deeply religious 
 and had devoted himself to the ministry. He was a man 
 of sternly unbending principle, keenly sensitive to injus- 
 tice, and always ready to espouse the cause of the op- 
 pressed. During the popular agitation which attended 
 the proposal to remove the Creek and Cherokee nations 
 from the lands guaranteed to them by treaty in Georgia, 
 he was roused to indignation at the cruel wrongs of the 
 Indians and gave utterance to his sentiments in several 
 scathing articles which were published in the Hartford 
 newspapers. In another newspaper controversy Barnard 
 and Carter were engaged on the same side. A teacher 
 in a neighboring town had adopted some variation of 
 Locke's method of teaching languages, using a classical 
 text with a literal interlinear translation, and discarding 
 grammars and dictionaries. To say the least, this method, 
 however defective, was far less irrational than that which 
 Barnard himself had been doomed to follow in his early 
 classical studies, and he would hardly have condemned it 
 outright if its advocate had not in an evil hour made 
 open war on the method pursued at the Grammar School. 
 Unfortunately for himself, the impetuous reformer assailed 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 45 
 
 the Grammar School by name in the Hartford newspapers, 
 declaring its method of instruction to be preposterous, 
 and announcing himself as the champion of a system 
 which would sweep the old-fashioned system from the 
 face of the earth. It could not be expected that young 
 men like Carter and Barnard, however ready they might 
 be to give candid consideration to a proposed improve- 
 ment of the established methods of instruction, would sit 
 tamely down under such an attack. A hot and rather 
 wordy newspaper controversy followed, in which the 
 champions of the Grammar School turned the attack on 
 their assailant. It may be admitted that there was 
 nothing very profound in their arguments, but they were 
 at least too strong for the adversary, and at nearly eighty 
 years of age it was still a satisfaction to the president of 
 Columbia College to believe that he and Carter had " beat 
 the enemy out of his boots ! " 
 
 The following paragraphs from one of Barnard's con- 
 tributions to this controversy is of interest, since it shows 
 that he had already clearly apprehended the true nature 
 and value of education as a training of the mental facul- 
 ties, and not merely nor chiefly as the acquisition of 
 knowledge : 
 
 One who attempts to read the Latin or the Greek scientifi- 
 cally is engaged every moment in the processes of analyzing, 
 of comparing, of reasoning, and of judging. By practice he 
 learns to perform these operations with great rapidity; but 
 even the most perfect scholar can perceive them going for- 
 ward in his mind. He is conscious of a reason a reason 
 founded upon scientific principles for every step he takes in 
 the process of translation. If any difficulty occur, the opera- 
 tions of his mind become at once more deliberate and marked. 
 The process of analysis is perfectly distinct. It commences 
 by setting aside those obvious relations which have no direct 
 bearing upon the point under consideration, and proceeds by 
 
46 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 disclosing, one by one, those which, at first sight, are not so 
 obvious. Thus it exhibits the whole sentence before him 
 resolved into its elements. His knowledge of grammatical 
 principles points out to him the bearing of each upon the 
 others, and finally the judgment is called in to decide upon 
 the true meaning. The process is similar to that by which a 
 machinist determines the effect of a certain combination of 
 wheels and levers. Often it is necessary likewise to take 
 into consideration the connection of the given sentence with 
 those which precede and follow it, or even with the whole 
 paragraph, and perhaps the whole drift of the Latin work. 
 Here is ample room for "nicely balancing the evidence." 
 With a beginner, something similar to this takes place in 
 every clause ; and that, too, in the simplest sentences, for it 
 is only with these that he should have to do. If he studies 
 as he ought to study, every time that he associates two words 
 together he assigns to himself a reason for so doing. In this, 
 then, consists the mental discipline for which the ancient lan- 
 guages afford so excellent an exercise. But it will be at once 
 perceived that these advantages spring from the study of the 
 structure of the language, and further, from the study of that 
 structure as a means of reading and understanding it. 
 
 It were needless to remark that, to one who pursues the 
 system we are considering, these advantages are wholly lost. 
 The structure of the language, if it be ever studied, is studied 
 when it can assist the student very little in his reading. It 
 is not studied for the sake of affording him this assistance. 
 Probably the gentleman is disposed to think with the philoso- 
 pher whom he claims as his great prototype that, " if grammar 
 ought to be taught at any time, it must be to one that can 
 speak the languages already." Be that as it may, supposing 
 the system in question wholly to accomplish its professed end, 
 what power of mind is here called into exercise, except the 
 memory ? Through the medium of this alone the knowledge 
 taught seems to be wholly communicated. Indeed, Locke, 
 whose system seems to us much better calculated to disci- 
 pline the mind than the one we are considering, declares implic- 
 itly at least, that little else besides memory is concerned in 
 this mode of instruction. On this point argument seems to be 
 
FREDERICK A.^ P. BARNARD 47 
 
 unnecessary. But, in the words of the report we have already 
 quoted, " a costly edifice ought not to be left to be supported 
 by a single pillar," and we may add, much less by the one 
 which is weakest of all. Now, between two systems, of which 
 one proposes to exercise and to strengthen all the powers of 
 the mind, and the other but a single one, which shall we 
 choose ? " 
 
 The young schoolmasters had occasion to test another 
 method of classical instruction which was followed by a 
 very different person. One of the famous schools of 
 Hartford at that time was a seminary for young ladies 
 under the charge of Miss Catherine Beecher, a sister of 
 Henry Ward Beecher and of Harriet Beecher Stowe. The 
 text-books in Miss Beecher's seminary were almost all of 
 her own composition, and on one occasion, when visiting 
 a printing office, Barnard chanced to see the forms of a 
 new Latin grammar which she was then just bringing out. 
 In the page on which his eye first rested he discovered a 
 serious error and asked the foreman to tell him who was 
 the author of the book. Instead of a reply he received a 
 stern rebuke for the impropriety of looking at "matter" 
 "in form," which is everywhere forbidden by the rules 
 of the craft. He confessed his fault, but excused it on 
 account of the advantage to the author of his discovery of 
 a mortifying if not discreditable error. The printer was 
 incredulous, and insisted that, as he had received Miss 
 Beecher's own last revises and corrected the proofs in 
 accordance with them, he should put the forms to press 
 without delay. Barnard remonstrated, and with some 
 difficulty persuaded the proprietor to overrule the foreman 
 so far as to delay the press-work until Miss Beecher could 
 be consulted. The lady was grateful for Barnard's inter- 
 ference and ordered the printing of the work to be sus- 
 pended until he could revise the whole of it. This inci- 
 
48 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 dent led to a discussion with Miss Beecher of her method 
 of teaching Latin, and as he did not approve of her plan 
 in theory, she proposed that they should test it by a prac- 
 tical experiment. Sincerely believing that the experiment 
 would end in a disappointment to Miss Beecher, and being 
 unwilling to incur her displeasure by pronouncing it to be 
 a failure, Barnard begged that Carter might be associated 
 with him in testing its results. Miss Beecher gladly com- 
 plied. A class of girls was formed and entered on the 
 study of Latin on Miss Beecher's plan. At the end of three 
 months an examination was held by Carter and Barnard, 
 and both of them were candid enough to admit, though 
 with unconcealed reluctance, that they were astonished at 
 the progress which the girls had made in so short a time. 
 It is unfortunate that in writing an account of this inci- 
 dent Dr. Barnard gave no description of Miss Beecher's 
 method; for although it was not adopted in the Grammar 
 School, and although Miss Beecher afterwards discon- 
 tinued it in her own school, he always continued to 
 believe that it had genuine merit. 
 
 Barnard had many opportunities of entertaining con- 
 versation with Miss Beecher, but comparatively few with 
 her sister and assistant, Miss Harriet. The latter was 
 bright and spirited, but not beautiful, though Barnard 
 considered her handsome and particularly admired the 
 expression of her eyes. In 1828 no one suspected that 
 Harriet Beecher would ever write such a book as Uncle 
 Tom's Cabin ; and at his age it was natural that he should 
 be more attracted by the pupils than by the teachers of 
 the seminary. He seems to have been a pretty regular 
 attendant at the weekly soirees which were given at the 
 seminary, having the entree to those reunions, partly 
 through Miss Beecher's favor and partly on account of a 
 distant relationship to some of the young ladies. One of 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 49 
 
 Miss Beecher's pupils with whom he formed a somewhat 
 intimate friendship was Miss Sarah P. Willis, a sister of 
 Nathaniel P. Willis, and afterwards well known to the 
 world as Fanny Fern. Miss Willis was brilliant in con- 
 versation and attractive in person, and was deeply devoted 
 to her brother, whose early poems had given promise of a 
 future excellence which he never quite attained. Such as 
 they were, Willis' early poems were much admired; per- 
 haps they were somewhat overpraised; and the rising 
 fame of the young poet was displeasing to another young 
 man, George D. Prentice, who was then living at Hart- 
 ford as editor of The Neiv England Review. Unfortunately 
 for himself, as the event proved, Prentice assailed Willis 
 with a severity which, to say at least, was excessive. It 
 was just then that Miss Willis appeared at Hartford as a 
 pupil in Miss Beecher's school. Prentice fell violently in 
 love with her and made desperate efforts to secure an 
 introduction, but in vain. Sarah refused to meet him or 
 to allow his name to be mentioned in her presence. The 
 discomfiture of her admirer was signally complete, and 
 it is said that in all his life he never met with a rebuff 
 which wounded him so severely as this. 
 
 For a while Barnard's intercourse with Prentice was 
 intimate ; but the two men were not really congenial to 
 each other ; and at last Barnard entertained a rather 
 strong aversion to the brilliant journalist. Prentice 
 was not handsome either in person or in countenance, 
 but he was fascinating in manner and singularly charm- 
 ing in conversation. His wit was swift and dazzling, 
 and it was often said that he carelessly threw off more 
 good things than he ever put into his editorials. He 
 wrote with great facility, filled a large part of his journal 
 with matter of his own composition, and yet had the 
 editorial faculty of attracting and keeping other able 
 
50 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 men in association with him. One of them was John G. 
 Whittier, then first making his appearance in the world 
 of letters. Another was the well-known Park Benjamin, 
 who became a resident of Hartford during Barnard's 
 second year there. Prentice's retirement from The New 
 England Review was bitterly resented on account of the 
 circumstances which attended it, and what was regarded 
 as the political tergiversation which followed. In 1830 
 William Lloyd Garrison was indicted for libel in the 
 antislavery organ he had established in Baltimore, and 
 his indictment was quickly followed by fine and imprison- 
 ment. Nothing could have been more fortunate for his 
 fame or his cause. New England was ablaze with excite- 
 ment, and in all New England none expressed more 
 cordial admiration of Garrison's intrepidity, or heartier 
 sympathy for him in the persecution he endured, than 
 George D. Prentice in the columns of The New England 
 Review. Presently, however, he was chosen to prepare 
 a Life of Henry Clay, to be used in the contest for the 
 presidency of the United States in 1832, and went to 
 Kentucky with a professed intention to return to Hart- 
 ford as soon as he should have collected the materials for 
 his biography. He never returned, and it was believed 
 that he had never really intended to return. His nu- 
 merous debts and Miss Willis' scornful rejection of his 
 advances had made Hartford odious to him. In his sub- 
 sequent career as editor of the Louisville Courier, he 
 became a bitter opponent of the principles he had advo- 
 cated in New England, and Barnard met him no more. 
 Mr. Whittier was engaged to conduct The Review during 
 what was expected to be only a temporary absence of the 
 editor. Month after month passed away ; the drudgery 
 of editoral work became unendurable to the youthful 
 poet, and at length he retired to Haverhill, leaving Bar- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 51 
 
 nard in charge of the paper. He could not make up his 
 mind to resume his editorship, and so it happened in the 
 latter part of 1831 that Barnard, who was then again 
 living in Hartford, held for a short time the place of 
 editor. He had the discretion not to retain his editorial 
 honors very long. He was succeeded by a gentleman who 
 was rather a politician than a man of letters. The Review 
 soon degenerated into a merely political organ, losing, of 
 course, the patronage it had enjoyed as a literary journal. 
 It has long been extinct. 
 
 To this first year at Hartford must be assigned Mr. 
 Barnard's first appearance as an author. His work was 
 by no means an ambitious one, since it was only a school 
 arithmetic ; but its plan was decidedly ambitious. It was 
 intended to include elementary mental arithmetic, together 
 with a treatise on written arithmetic in all its parts, and 
 elaborate exercises to illustrate every rule. It is needless 
 to say that in this work the young author endeavored to 
 give "the why of things." The book had merit enough 
 to be adopted by the authorities of Yale College as the 
 text-book in which students should be examined at their 
 matriculation ; but, to Barnard's great disappointment, it 
 never came into general use. 
 
 So the first year at Hartford came to a close. It was a 
 year of hard study, hard work, and much observation 
 on the whole a good and fruitful year, in which Barnard 
 had many opportunities to try his powers. He was fort- 
 unate in his association with his fellow-teachers, and the 
 few hours of recreation he allowed himself were passed 
 partly in attendance at Miss Beecher's soirees, where he 
 seems to have quite forgotten his dignity as a teacher in 
 order to enjoy once more the freedom of a boy. At the 
 close of the session he had the proud satisfaction to be 
 notified by the inhabitants of Sheffield that, in making 
 
52 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 preparations for the customary celebration of the Fourth 
 of July, they had unanimously chosen him to be " The 
 Orator of the Day." While pondering the words of 
 patriotic wisdom with which he should electrify his au- 
 dience, he was not above the temptation to plan a frolic 
 with Miss Sarah Willis and one of his distant cousins at 
 the seminary. Miss Beecher's school year was closed with 
 a public reading of original compositions of the young 
 ladies by some skilled elocutionist, usually Dr. Thomas 
 Gallaudet. The exhibition was held in the great audi- 
 torium of the Central Public School, to which Miss 
 Beecher and her pupils marched in procession from the 
 seminary. The proceedings on the occasion were a 
 trifle dull to the girls, and the dulness of the exhibition of 
 1829 was anticipated with more than usual dislike because 
 an attractive concert was to be given on the same even- 
 ing in another hall. Barnard and the young ladies 
 sadly misused Miss Beecher's confidence by secretly 
 arranging at one of the soirees that, on the evening of 
 the exhibition, Miss Willis and her friend should escape 
 from the procession and accompany Barnard to the 
 concert. Somehow the plan miscarried; and in the 
 middle of the following night, when Miss Willis was 
 travelling in the mail-stage to her home in Boston under 
 Miss Beecher's charge, she was startled to hear the 
 solemn voice of her instructress addressing her with the 
 question, " Sarah, did you really mean to run away last 
 night ? " The plotting of the youngsters had not escaped 
 Miss Beecher's vigilance, and if their escapade had been ac- 
 tually attempted, it would have ended in an ignominious 
 fiasco. Sarah confessed that she had wanted to run away, 
 but that her courage had failed her. She admitted, too, in 
 answer to Miss Beecher's questioning, that the wish was 
 naughty. "But then [she said] how could I help it? 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 53 
 
 Your father Dr. Lyman Beecher says we are all 
 naughty by nature, and you know I didn't make my 
 nature ! " 
 
 The oration which Barnard had prepared for delivery 
 at Sheffield was on the slavery question, concerning which 
 he was ready to take a decided position. " The irrepres- 
 sible conflict " had already begun, as moral conflicts al- 
 ways begin, in the minds and hearts of the people. No 
 one in New England believed that slavery was morally 
 defensible. A few extreme abolitionists held it to be 
 the duty of the national government to abolish it, but the 
 general sentiment was opposed to violent measures and 
 would have been content with any prospect of gradual 
 and constitutional emancipation. A society of which 
 Bushrod Washington, a nephew of General Washington, 
 was the first president, and of which Henry Clay was an 
 ardent supporter, had been formed for the purpose of 
 gradually deporting the blacks of the South to Africa; and 
 it was in the character of an advocate of that well-meant 
 but visionary project that Barnard originally intended to 
 make his first appearance as a public orator. There were 
 many, however, who did not favor the Colonization Soci- 
 ety, considering it to be merely insignificant in compari- 
 son with the end to be attained, and therefore more likely 
 to prolong the existing agitation than to accomplish the 
 object at which it aimed. As it would have been out of 
 place on such an occasion to deliver an address which 
 might not be acceptable to a portion of the audience, Bar- 
 nard wisely submitted his oration to the judgment of a 
 council of the elders. His sentiments were unanimously 
 approved, but he was advised with equal unanimity not 
 to deliver the address he had prepared. Accordingly, he 
 wrote and delivered a totally different address, in the 
 usual spread-eagle style of Fourth-of-July oratory, which 
 
54 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 offended nobody and was received with rapturous ap- 
 plause. At night there was the customary banquet, with 
 the customary toasts. Invariable usage required that the 
 first toast "To the Memory of Washington" should be 
 drunk standing and in silence; an equally imperative 
 usage required that the thirteenth and last regular toast 
 should be "To Woman." The toasts were drunk in a 
 quite literal way, and the toast-master, after twelve suc- 
 cessive potations, was somewhat incapacitated for the 
 duties of his office. The Toast Committee had attached 
 to the thirteenth toast the then fresh but now hackneyed 
 lines from Scott, beginning "O woman, in our hours of 
 ease," which the toast-master unluckily misread, "Old 
 woman," etc. The poetic sentiment was never finished. 
 A burst of irrepressible laughter drowned the stentorian 
 voice of the reader, and a notable day in the life of Freder- 
 ick Barnard was at an end. 
 
 After a vacation passed at Sheffield Barnard returned 
 to spend a second year at the Hartford Grammar School. 
 The only incident of that year worth recording was his 
 discovery of the slow approach of an infirmity which dis- 
 concerted all his plans and materially curtailed his powers 
 of usefulness throughout his life. He found that he was 
 gradually becoming deaf. The affliction was undoubtedly 
 hereditary. His mother had become distressingly deaf, 
 though she had two sisters whose hearing was perfect; and 
 his brother and sister were both afflicted to some extent 
 in the same way. His own deafness came on at first so 
 slightly that his friends could not believe it to be real. 
 Barnard himself was only too willing to think he was the 
 victim of a morbid fancy. The experience of the school- 
 room soon proved that his deafness was neither imaginary 
 nor temporary. It was real, and it steadily increased. He 
 could still discharge his duties without serious inconven- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 55 
 
 ience, but he allowed himself to cherish no illusions con- 
 cerning the future. The hereditary character of his 
 infirmity forbade him to hope that it could ever be cured. 
 It might indeed stop short of an entire loss of hearing; 
 but even partial deafness would incapacitate him for the 
 legal profession for which he had been preparing himself, 
 and he closed his Blackstone "with a feeling of gloom 
 bordering on despair." It was no light affliction to a 
 youth of twenty to find himself thus compelled to aban- 
 don the profession he had chosen and the well-grounded 
 hopes of distinction he had cherished. It was hard, in- 
 deed, for so young a man to realize that the calamity 
 which had fallen on him would exclude him from nearly 
 every profession in which an educated man might hope to 
 earn his living, and that it was almost sure ere long to cut 
 him off from all the social enjoyments which were so con- 
 genial to his joyous nature. It was under the shadow of 
 these thoughts that Barnard spent his second year at 
 Hartford. 
 
 Yet he did not allow his heavy affliction to overwhelm 
 him. He made friends, and made the most of his asso- 
 ciation with them. One of them was an old class- 
 mate, Mr. David Ely Bartlett, a noble fellow, who now 
 became his most intimate companion and correspondent, 
 and remained one of his closest friends through life. 
 Bartlett, immediately after his graduation, had engaged 
 himself as an assistant in the American Asylum for the 
 Deaf and Dumb, an institution founded at Hartford in 
 1817 by the famous Dr. Thomas Gallaudet. He was a 
 born philanthropist and an enthusiast in his profession ; 
 and when Barnard's deafness began to come on, Bartlett 
 urged his despondent friend to join him in the same pur- 
 suit. He had the tact to call attention to the scientific 
 interest of his work, as well as the comparatively fresh 
 
56 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 field of philanthropic effort which it offered. At first 
 Barnard was not attracted by the invitation. Perhaps he 
 still clung more tenaciously than he himself knew to the 
 hope that his infirmity might pass away and leave him 
 free to follow the bent of his own untrammelled choice; but 
 at least he felt relieved to know that, if his worst appre- 
 hensions should be realized, he could find in the instruc- 
 tion of deaf-mutes " an occupation in which a man might 
 make his bread though he might have no ears at all!" 
 It is not so strange, perhaps, as it seems, that he never 
 thought of making literature his profession. "It never 
 occurred to me," he said afterwards, " that I might pos- 
 sibly live by my pen. Never, even in my most hopeful 
 days, had I indulged in the fond fancy which is so com- 
 mon in the young, that a future of literary celebrity 
 might be in store for me." The truth is that the course 
 of what had been meant to be his education could hardly 
 have been better planned if its purpose had been to make 
 literary work distasteful to him. English he was never 
 taught; he was taught Latin absurdly. It does not ap- 
 pear that he ever wrote a single Latin sentence, and after 
 learning the grammar merely by rote, he was set almost 
 at once to reading Virgil and Cicero. In other words, 
 he was never taught the principles of composition in any 
 language; and his first text-books were the works of a 
 poet and an orator whose complicated sentences were 
 such as could not be used in ordinary speech or writing. 
 When he was required to write English prose composi- 
 tions at Stockbridge, it was inevitable that he should take 
 those authors as his models and use as much as possible 
 of their vocabulary. He felt that there was something 
 wrong in his style, but he did not know how to rid him- 
 self of the stiff and " dreary verbosity " which he deplored. 
 It may as well be admitted here that he never became an 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 57 
 
 expert in the art of easy and graceful English writing. 
 He does not seem to have made any great effort to 
 acquire it. Most of his writing, and all of his best writ- 
 ing, like very much of his public speaking, was strictly 
 extemporaneous. His essays were full of instruction. 
 His views were brilliantly illustrated. His conclusions 
 were powerfully enforced. On the other hand, however, 
 the arrangement of his matter was seldom perfectly con- 
 secutive, and his style was certainly not compact. Yet 
 there is ample reason to believe that, if he had chosen to 
 apply himself to literature, he would have achieved dis- 
 tinction as a man of letters. His encyclopaedic knowl- 
 edge was fairly equalled by his faculty of imagination 
 and was almost surpassed by his poetic gift of compari- 
 son. At times, when writing on a subject in which he 
 was deeply interested, his style became vigorous, ener- 
 getic, and compact to the point of epigram; and in speech 
 his utterances not infrequently rose to eloquence. More- 
 over, if he had cared to study niceties of form, there are 
 evidences that he would easily have surpassed all ordi- 
 nary excellence. Thus, at this very period of his life, he 
 composed a short poem, modelled after Sir William Tem- 
 ple's imitations of Hafiz, which is a fair indication of what 
 he might have done as a writer. 
 
 A SERENADE 
 
 I 
 
 WAKE, Lady, wake ! The night is fair : 
 
 Soft as a summer shower, I feel 
 The breathing of the evening air, 
 
 As through thy fragrant bower I steal : 
 The stars, like diamonds, rich and rare, 
 
 Glow silently. This blessed hour 
 To stillness and to love is dear. 
 
 How sweet their blended power I feel ! 
 
58 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 I wander in the moonlight, where, 
 
 By rippling rill and moss-grown tower, 
 
 Oft thou hast wandered, love, and there 
 Full many an odorous flower I steal. 
 
 ii 
 
 The bird of night upon the spray 
 
 Is warbling ; strains of love he sings ; 
 Where moonbeams in the dewdrops play 
 
 And zephyrs gently move, he sings j 
 Where mournful minstrels love to stray 
 
 Beneath the widely arching grove, 
 Where lovers fond and maidens gay 
 
 Steal off, apart to rove, he sings. 
 And then a wild and witching lay, 
 
 Like spirit-voices, interwove 
 In pale Diana's silver ray, 
 
 To spangled skies above, he sings. 
 
 in 
 
 The solemn clock in turret gray, 
 
 With slow and mournful peal, I hear, 
 Telling the hour when elf and fay 
 
 Their mystic circle wheel, my dear. 
 In yon lone dell, far, far away, 
 
 Where mists of night all shapes conceal, 
 Save where, sometimes, a struggling ray 
 
 Seems fitfully to steal, I hear, 
 Or seem to hear, their frolic play, 
 
 And seem to see them weave the spell 
 They ever, ere the break of day, 
 
 Weave for our woe or weal, my dear. 
 
 IV 
 
 But e'en the rapt star-gazer now 
 Nods on his tube : no more, away, 
 
 His thoughts, 'mid heaven's eternal glow, 
 On restless pinion soar away ; 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 59 
 
 The lover breathes the parting vow, 
 
 So often softly breathed before ; 
 The student turns with aching brow 
 
 Prom books of learned lore away. 
 All, all woo gentle slumber now : 
 
 So should'st thou too ! My lay is o'er. 
 Oh ! rosy be thy dreams, till thou 
 
 Shalt bid them flit once more away ! 
 
 It would be idle to say that the technique of these 
 verses is perfect ; but if we recollect that they were 
 written under such disadvantages at the age of twenty- 
 one or twenty-two, it is not too much to say that if 
 Frederick Barnard had chosen to study the structure 
 of melodious English prose as carefully as he studied 
 the difficult rhyme and rhythm of Sir William Temple's 
 stanzas, he might have become a classical writer of his 
 mother tongue. It is no misfortune to the world that 
 he did not do so, but preferred, when the misfortune 
 of his life fell upon him, to drift along in the performance 
 of his daily duties, leaving the future to care for itself. 
 
 It was during his second year at Hartford that he 
 made the acquaintance of Park Benjamin, with whom 
 he became intimate a little later. He has left an account 
 of that extraordinary man which may properly be inserted 
 here. 
 
 Physically, mentally, and, perhaps, I might say morally, 
 Benjamin was a bundle of inconsistencies. He had a fine, 
 open, and even handsome countenance, with mobile features 
 and a wonderful play of expression. In person he was well- 
 formed and above the common strength; his hands, with a 
 grasp like a vice, might have been a sculptor's model; but 
 his lower limbs were imperfectly developed and so singularly 
 deformed as to be useless for walking. He moved with 
 difficulty, and only with the aid of crutches. Intellectually 
 he was a phenomenon. Gifted with a lively imagination, a 
 
60 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 brilliant wit, and an exhaustless flow of language, in social 
 intercourse he was the most fascinating man I ever met. 
 His powers of elocution were truly wonderful; if he had 
 been able and disposed to tread the boards, he could not 
 have failed to take the highest rank in either tragedy or 
 comedy. His talent for mimicry was extraordinary. He 
 could catch and imitate the tone, the manner, the facial ex- 
 pression, and, what was more wonderful, the style and lan- 
 guage of any public speaker whom he happened to have heard, 
 with an exactness which never failed to excite admiration and 
 astonishment. Some of the elocutionary performances into 
 which he seemed often to drop without premeditation were 
 so remarkable, considered merely from a literary point of 
 view, that, although they seemed to be spontaneous improv- 
 isations, I could not help suspecting that they had been 
 deliberately prepared. He was a natural versifier and com- 
 posed in verse almost as easily as in prose. On one occa- 
 sion I witnessed a remarkable illustration of his facility in 
 versifying. A friend of ours who had come across Schiller's 
 ballad of Koland and his life-long watch above the cloistered 
 garden of Nonnenwerth, was so enraptured with it that he 
 could not rest until he had obtained an English translation of 
 it. Being unable to make it for himself, he asked Benjamin 
 to make it for him. Benjamin objected that he could not read 
 the original. "Never mind," was the rejoinder, "we can 
 divide the work. I will translate the German, stanza by 
 stanza, and you shall put it into verse." The proposal was 
 accepted, and I saw Benjamin turn the ballad into smooth and 
 elegant English verse, taking scarcely more time to produce 
 it than our friend took for the translation. The version was 
 printed at the time in one of the Hartford papers, but whether 
 it was ever included in any published volume, or whether Ben- 
 jamin's numerous fugitive poems were ever so collected, I do 
 not know. With all his brilliant faculties, and with all his 
 genius, for his was a true genius, he lacked the powers 
 of mental concentration and persistency of effort which are 
 indispensable to the creation of any great and lasting liter- 
 ary monument. He was versatile and dazzling; but his 
 brightness was that of a spray of a cataract, testifying to 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 61 
 
 the reality of a power which is running to waste. He pro- 
 duced much, but his writings were desultory, and, for the 
 most part, ephemeral. He was a born journalist, and in 
 journalism most of his literary life was spent. It was not 
 from his writings but from himself that those who knew him 
 have derived their most vivid impressions of him. Wherever 
 he happened to be, he was the life of the party, always con- 
 triving to interest or amuse, and often convulsing his com- 
 panions with irrepressible laughter. The singular flexibility 
 of his countenance endowed him with a power of grimace 
 which, in his merry moods, he would occasionally use with 
 startling and irresistibly comic effect. His readiness in rep- 
 artee was sometimes exhibited in epigram, in which he was 
 equally facile and felicitous. Once, when he was expressing 
 his contempt for self-sufficient meddlers who are always set- 
 ting the world to rights, or, as Shakespeare expresses it, to 
 "turn the coat of the commonwealth and put a new nap on 
 it," he concluded with this little bit of off-hand epigram: 
 
 ' How well it is the sun and moon 
 
 Are hung so very high 
 That no presumptuous hand can reach 
 Their places in the sky ! 
 
 * If 'twere not so, I do believe 
 
 That some conceited ass 
 Would soon propose to take them down 
 And light the world with gas ! " 
 
 Benjamin naturally gravitated to New York. He engaged 
 there in several literary ventures, among others, The New York 
 World, a literary journal, not the journal now known by the 
 same name ; but he transformed it into a mammoth sheet called 
 The Western Continent, adopting as its motto : 
 
 ** No pent-up Utica contracts our powers; 
 The whole unbounded continent is ours." 
 
 During my first residence in New York, from 1832 to 1837, 
 I was in intimate association with him, and he continued there 
 after my departure to the end of his life. During my subse- 
 quent residence in the South I maintained a correspondence 
 
62 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 with him for several years, but it was gradually dropped. 
 Quarter of a century later, when I was called to New York, 
 I had quite lost sight of him; but the notice of my call to 
 Columbia College caught his eye, and he wrote me a note 
 inquiring rather unceremoniously, " Are you that same old 
 Fred Barnard that I used to know in Hartford?" I need 
 not say that I promptly answered the inquiry. I followed 
 my note in person with the least possible delay, but to my 
 very painful surprise I was told that he was seriously ill, 
 and I did not see him. A few days afterwards, on Septem- 
 ber 18th, 1864, he passed away; so that I never again met 
 Park Benjamin, one of the most gifted and highly prized of 
 all my life's early friends. 
 
 Among the other persons whom Barnard knew, but 
 with whom he made only a slight acquaintance while in 
 Hartford, were Mrs. Lydia Hunt Sigourney, who then 
 filled a considerable place in the literary world of this 
 country; Professor Horatio Potter, who afterwards be- 
 came Bishop of New York ; Henry L. Ellsworth, Com- 
 missioner of Patents under President Van Buren ; John 
 M. Niles, afterwards Senator of the United States ; Lewis 
 Gaylord Clark, who was then frittering away his time in 
 pretending to edit The Mirror, but who was afterwards 
 to be widely known as the laborious and accomplished 
 editor of The Knickerbocker Magazine; Junius L. Morgan, 
 then a mere boy, but afterwards a power in the financial 
 world of both hemispheres ; and Gideon Wells, Secretary 
 of the Navy under President Lincoln. At that time Mr. 
 Wells was " a democrat of the deepest dye " ; and when 
 Dr. Barnard next saw him transformed into a "black 
 republican " cabinet minister, he began to think it possi- 
 ble that an Ethiopian might change his skin or a leopard 
 his spots! 
 
 At the close of the school year of 1829-30, Barnard 
 received his expected call to a tutorship in Yale College. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 63 
 
 His deafness had not yet become so great as to incapaci- 
 tate him for the duties of that office, and there was still a 
 chance that it might become no greater. Accordingly, 
 he accepted the position with some faint hope that he 
 might be able to retain it, and bade farewell to the Gram- 
 mar School in which he had begun what was destined, 
 but not intended, to be his life-work as an educator. As 
 events turned out, he was soon to spend another year at 
 Hartford, but most of the persons and incidents con- 
 nected with his sojourn in that place have been men- 
 tioned, partly by anticipation, in the present chapter. 
 
64 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 College government at Yale in 1830 Morning prayers A case of dis- 
 cipline Increasing deafness Barnard resigns his tutorship and 
 accepts a position in the American Institution for the Deaf and Dumb 
 at Hartford Theory and practice of deaf-mute education Julia 
 Brace The cholera season of 1832 The New York Institution for 
 the Instruction of the Deaf and Dumb Barnard visits New York 
 A city of desolation New York as it was in 1832 Barnard accepts 
 a position in the New York Institution A congenial faculty 
 Scientific studies The star shower of 1832 Barnard is confirmed 
 Meeting with Dr. Manly of Alabama Professorship of Mathe- 
 matics and Natural Philosophy in the University of Alabama accepted. 
 
 MB. BAKNARD had no sooner entered upon his duties as 
 a tutor in Yale College than he succeeded in securing the 
 beginning of a much-needed reform. While he was an 
 undergraduate he had seen the disadvantage to the stu- 
 dents of being instructed for the first three years of their 
 course by a single tutor in all branches of study, instead 
 of having the instruction of experts in every several 
 branch. On his return as a tutor he was assigned to 
 the freshman class then just entering. His associates 
 were Mr. Lamed, afterwards Professor of Rhetoric and 
 Oratory, and Professor Gibbs, who was then Professor of 
 Sacred Literature, but was obliged, on account of the 
 inadequate endowment of his chair, to take additional 
 duty as a tutor. Of the three, Barnard was easily the 
 first in mathematics, Gibbs excelled in Greek, and 
 Lamed in Latin. Barnard proposed that they should 
 divide their work accordingly ; the permission of the 
 Faculty was obtained, and thus an important reform of 
 method was happily inaugurated to the great advantage 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 65 
 
 of the students. The new arrangement worked well for 
 the tutors also, and Barnard, having little need of prep- 
 aration for the duties of the class-room, had ample time 
 to pursue his own studies in the higher mathematics. 
 
 The Governing Board, or Faculty, of Yale College 
 differed from that of other colleges in this respect, that 
 it included the tutors as well as the professors among 
 its members. The tutors, however, were further organ- 
 ized as a subordinate body, called the Sub-Faculty, which 
 met twice a week and had full charge of the petty dis- 
 cipline of the college. To each tutor was entrusted the 
 personal oversight of the students in a particular part 
 of the buildings, and he was required to report all 
 breaches of good order to the Sub-Faculty. Minor cen- 
 sures, such as "admonitions," "warnings," and "letters 
 home," were imposed by the Sub-Faculty alone ; graver 
 cases, requiring the heavier penalties of suspension or 
 expulsion, were reserved for the judgment of the Faculty. 
 The tutors were mostly very young men, and when not 
 required to pose as dons, some of them were quite ready 
 to enjoy a frolic of their own. 
 
 The senior tutor, who presided at the meetings of the 
 Sub-Faculty, was a man of ability, an excellent officer, 
 and a good disciplinarian, but excessively sensitive to 
 public opinion and unduly anxious to be considered popu- 
 lar with the students. His amiable foible made him an 
 easy victim of some of his associates, who played all man- 
 ner of tricks upon him, and, on one occasion, two of them 
 actually "smoked" him by filling the key-hole of his 
 room door with burning tobacco. At the semi-weekly 
 meetings of the Sub-Faculty these indignities were re- 
 ported, of course, by the senior tutor, and were sympa- 
 thetically discussed by the perpetrators themselves as 
 evidences of the undeserved and unaccountable aversion 
 
66 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of the students for the president of the Sub-Faculty. 
 The gravity of these discussions was the most ludicrous 
 part of the performance, and it occasionally happened 
 that the time of a Sub-Faculty meeting was almost 
 entirely consumed in the solemn consideration of some 
 mischievous prank which had really been played by one 
 or more of the tutors themselves. 
 
 The meetings of the Sub-Faculty were invariably 
 opened with prayer, which was offered by each of the 
 tutors in turn. Some of those gentlemen had great 
 "freedom in prayer" and seemed to be both able and 
 willing to " pray without ceasing " ; but Barnard was 
 not a "professor of religion," and his sense of the fitness 
 of things, as well as a certain natural diffidence, made 
 this duty extremely irksome. He was still more pain- 
 fully embarrassed when his turn came to officiate in the 
 public services of the College Chapel. They were held 
 morning and evening, and were conducted in turn by 
 the professors and tutors, one professor and one tutor 
 being assigned to each service according to a settled 
 programme. Morning prayer took place at six o'clock 
 all the year through, and in winter, of course, long be- 
 fore the dawn of day. The service consisted of a brief in- 
 vocation, a lesson from the Bible, a hymn, and the " long 
 prayer." The first part of the exercises was taken 
 by the officiating tutors, and the second by the professor. 
 When the appointed professor was necessarily absent, 
 the whole service was performed by the tutor. Barnard 
 waited in great anxiety for his turn to officiate. 
 
 There was no part of my duty [he wrote] to which I looked 
 forward with so much apprehension, and, I might even say, 
 with so much dread. I distrusted my readiness in extempo- 
 rary prayer, and I fear I had a more oppressive sense of the 
 critical congregation of three or four hundred young men 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 67 
 
 before whom I must stand up than of the august Being I 
 was to address. As one of the junior tutors, my name stood 
 low on the list, and as I saw my turn approaching, I made 
 some preparation. When the dreaded morning arrived, I had 
 nerved myself to meet the exigency ; but it came to me in a 
 form I had little expected. A messenger informed me that 
 the president, whom I was to have assisted, had been called 
 to Hartford, and that I should be alone in the pulpit. This 
 announcement almost took my breath away; but there was 
 no retreat. The duty must be done, and there was nothing 
 before me but to do it as best I might. It was well for me 
 that I had thought the whole matter over in advance, and I 
 suppose that such imperfect preparation as I had made was 
 of some assistance to me; but I hardly knew what I was 
 saying, and when the service was over, I had no idea whether 
 I had done well or ill. A few days later, however, my friend 
 Carter, who was a praying man, gave me much comfort. " Do 
 you know," he said to me, "what I thought of your chapel 
 service ? I could not help wishing that you might make as 
 good a prayer as that every day." 
 
 It may easily be imagined that such an experience 
 would go far to confirm Barnard's belief in the expedi- 
 ency and propriety of using precomposed forms of prayer 
 in public worship. 
 
 At the meetings of the Faculty, in considering the 
 penalties to be imposed for grave breaches of discipline, 
 it was customary to take the opinions of all the members 
 severally, beginning with the youngest; and soon after 
 his tutorship began Barnard's inclination to mildness 
 brought down upon him what he felt to be a severe 
 rebuke from an older member of the Faculty. The 
 recognized head of the senior class of that year was a 
 young gentleman from South Carolina. In a dispute 
 with one of his fellow-students he was grossly affronted, 
 his antagonist going so far as to impeach his honor and 
 his personal courage. The fiery South Carolinian thought 
 
68 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 it necessary to avenge the insult by administering an 
 ignominious flogging to his assailant in the open street. 
 He was promptly summoned to appear before the Faculty 
 and show cause why he should not be summarily expelled. 
 The trial was brief. No witnesses were called. The 
 culprit acknowledged his offence, but entered a plea of 
 extenuating circumstances. 
 
 His speech to the Faculty [says Dr. Barnard] was both 
 eloquent and impressive, and his bearing was manly and 
 dignified. He said that in the community to which he be- 
 longed such an affront as had been offered to him could not 
 be allowed to pass unpunished without overwhelming disgrace. 
 If he had failed to resent it as public opinion in Charleston 
 required, he could never again have shown his face in his native 
 city. He had had no alternative but either to call his adver- 
 sary out and shoot him or else to inflict a personal chastise- 
 ment, and he had chosen the course which he had thought to 
 be the less censurable. He admitted that he had violated both 
 the municipal and academic law. He did not expect to escape 
 censure, and he professed his readiness to submit to it; but 
 he thought that the moral and social constraint under which 
 he had acted might to some extent commend him to the 
 sympathy of his judges and incline them to mitigate their 
 sentence. 
 
 After this defence, it fell to Barnard, as the junior tutor 
 present, to be first called to express his opinion of the 
 case. He modestly said that he could not help feeling 
 the force of the plea which had been offered by the 
 student. He admitted that the young man could not 
 be allowed to remain in the college; but, considering the 
 high standing he had held in his class, Barnard thought 
 it would be punishment enough to deprive him of his 
 brilliant prospect of academic honors by requiring him 
 to withdraw from the institution, without putting upon 
 him the stigma of a public expulsion. These views did 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 69 
 
 not commend themselves to the other members of the 
 Faculty. One by one, not indeed with great severity, 
 and not with entire unanimity, but with a substantial 
 agreement, they maintained that the public expulsion of 
 the offender was necessary. At length Professor Good- 
 rich, turning to Barnard and directly addressing him, 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " I will never for one moment countenance or tolerate princi- 
 ples which are a tradition from a savage state of society and a 
 disgrace to civilization. A man who will swerve one hair's 
 breadth from the right, out of respect to a perverse, irrational, 
 and unchristian public spirit, is no man at all ; and whatever 
 other communities may do, a Christian people like that of 
 New England, and a Christian institution like Yale College, 
 must not fail to stamp with its most indignant and uncom- 
 promising condemnation the spirit of vindictiveness which, in 
 South Carolina, is dignified with the name of honor." 
 
 It is hardly necessary to add that the unfortunate South 
 Carolinian was expelled. Barnard left the Faculty meet- 
 ing feeling that he must have been almost as culpable as 
 he; and yet it may be doubted whether the young tutor's 
 desire to temper judgment with mercy was not less vin- 
 dictive and more Christian, as well as more becoming the 
 character of a considerate teacher, than the uncompromis- 
 ing verdict of the strenuous professor. 
 
 Barnard's time of service at the college was a time of 
 great depression on account of his increasing deafness. 
 In the class-room he discovered that he could hardly hear 
 the students who were seated on the farther side of the 
 room. He made daily experiments with his watch, care- 
 fully measuring the distance at which its ticking ceased to 
 be audible, and finding to his dismay that it was gradually 
 but steadily growing less. In the society of persons with 
 whom he was not intimately acquainted he was much 
 
70 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 embarrassed, and he began to avoid society. His health 
 in other respects was not good. He suffered from a 
 chronic cough, caused by an inflammation of the mucous 
 membrane of the air passages of the lungs, which con- 
 tinued to trouble him for several years. Even his favorite 
 studies failed to distract his mind from the gloomy pros- 
 pect before him; and yet he worked bravely on, and he 
 had the satisfaction to know that his merits were ap- 
 preciated. Professor Olmstead, who then held the united 
 chairs of Mathematics and Physics, desired to be relieved 
 of the former by the appointment of a professor of that 
 science alone. The trustees of the college were favorable 
 to the change, and resolved to make it as soon as means 
 could be obtained for the support of an additional pro- 
 fessor. It was hoped and believed that the necessary 
 means would be forthcoming, and Professor Olmstead 
 proposed to Barnard to become his colleague when the 
 professorship should be established. There was no other 
 candidate ; no one else seems to have been thought of. 
 Thus, at the early age of twenty-one, the line of promo- 
 tion was wonderfully opened before him. He already 
 stood well with the Faculty and the trustees of the 
 college, and he had every prospect of being advanced 
 within a few years to the dignity of a professor in his 
 alma mater. If the chair of Mathematics had been 
 established immediately, he would doubtless have ac- 
 cepted it, hoping, even against hope, that he might be 
 able to perform its duties. But he did not feel justified 
 in waiting an indefinite time. His friend Bartlett had 
 renewed his efforts to induce him to take service in the 
 American Institution for the Deaf and Dumb at Hartford, 
 and he now became anxious to do so. For a time, how- 
 ever, the negotiations lagged on account of an objection 
 that Barnard was not a " professor of religion." If that 
 
FREDERICK: A. p. BARNARD 71 
 
 objection had been pressed, he would never have con- 
 sented to remove it; but it was at length abandoned, and 
 he accepted the position offered. In the month of May, 
 1831, he resigned his tutorship and went to Hartford. 
 
 The earlier teachers of deaf-mutes in the eighteenth 
 century aimed at nothing less than enabling the dumb to 
 speak, and it was found to be possible to accomplish that 
 difficult undertaking. When it had been done, however, 
 there remained the still more difficult task of teaching 
 the deaf person to follow spoken language by observing 
 the motion of the lips. The time and labor required for 
 these two courses of instruction made it impracticable to 
 apply them to the relief of more than a few persons, 
 and the Abbe de 1'Epee, whose philanthropic efforts were 
 begun in Paris in the year 1755, was fully convinced by 
 his own experience that it was useless to attempt to 
 teach the majority of deaf-mutes anything more than 
 the use of written language. 
 
 The natural and only possible medium of communica- 
 tion between uneducated deaf-mutes, or between them 
 and persons who can speak, is pantomime, or the use of 
 suggestive and imitative signs ; and in the earlier stages 
 of elementary instruction this natural sign-language is 
 necessarily used by the teacher. It happily occurred 
 to the Abbe Sicard, the eminent successor of the Abbe 
 de 1'Epee, that something of the definiteness and copi- 
 ousness of oral speech might be imparted to the sign- 
 language by attaching a distinctive sign to each particular 
 word, and by introducing auxiliary signs to denote gram- 
 matical relations. The new system of signs which he 
 devised in the application of this idea was to a great 
 extent arbitrary and artificial, but as it required nothing 
 more from the pupil than the exercise of attention and 
 the use of faculties which he naturally possessed, it was 
 
72 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 mastered with comparative ease and was found to be of 
 great use in teaching deaf-mutes to read and write. It 
 was seldom used, however, in colloquial intercourse, but 
 was strictly followed in the dictation exercises of the 
 class-room. 
 
 One of the Abbe Sicard's most eminent disciples was 
 the famous Dr. Thomas Gallaudet, who was completely 
 trained by him and who introduced the system of signes 
 m6thodiques into this country. In 1817 he organized the 
 American Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb at Hartford, 
 and for thirteen years he directed its operations with 
 great success. In 1830 he resigned his position on ac- 
 count of differences with the board of managers, and 
 was succeeded by Mr. Lewis Weld, who had himself been 
 trained in the American Asylum. It was under Mr. 
 Weld's supervision that Mr. Barnard entered on his 
 duties. The new superintendent was a good deal of 
 a martinet, and his accession to the headship of the 
 Asylum had been marked by the introduction of cer- 
 tain innovations which were distasteful to his subordi- 
 nates. Among other new arrangements he established a 
 regular weekly drill in the elements of the sign-language, 
 and required all his associates, nearly a dozen in number, 
 to follow his personal exemplifications of the work. To 
 some of them, as, for instance, to M. Laurent Clerc, a 
 deaf-mute proficient who had been trained by Sicard and 
 had been brought over by Dr. Gallaudet fifteen years 
 before in order to serve as a living expositor of the 
 system, these exercises in the elements of a science in 
 which they knew themselves to be experts were needlessly 
 humiliating as well as useless and irksome. The result 
 was a certain spirit of dissatisfaction among the staff of 
 teachers ; but however others might complain, beginners 
 like Mr. Barnard had every reason to be thankful for the 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 73 
 
 careful instructions given by their principal in his weekly 
 and semi-weekly sign-drills. 
 
 To acquire the sign-language was the first indispensable 
 step in preparing himself to become a teacher of deaf- 
 mutes, and here he found that his habits of observation 
 and his natural faculty of comparison made his progress 
 far more rapid than he had expected. 
 
 My first need [he afterwards wrote] was to form a just 
 conception of the principles on which the pantomime signs 
 are formed. The natural language of pantomime is not, like 
 spoken language, a body of definite symbols of invariable 
 form. It consists of any and all forms of manual or bodily 
 action which can be used to represent or suggest the object 
 or idea intended by the actor. Thus a book may be denoted 
 by rapidly indicating its form with the finger, imitating the 
 motions of opening and closing a volume and of turning the 
 leaves, and then holding the hands before the face as in read- 
 ing. After the idea has been distinctly conveyed and under- 
 stood, it suffices to use only the gesture of opening and closing 
 a volume, without other details ; and it is by following this 
 simple method that the entire vocabulary of abridged signs 
 which is colloquially used by deaf-mutes has been formed. 
 Every sign is simply some characteristic gesture taken from a 
 detailed pantomimic description. Abstract ideas are repre- 
 sented in the same way ; for nothing is clearer than that, even 
 in spoken language, abstract ideas are first represented in 
 words which signify some physical action or operation. Thus, 
 the word abstract itself is derived from ab and traho, and repre- 
 sents the action or process of drawing one thing from another 
 through a perceptible space. I have often been asked how it 
 is possible to convey abstract ideas to a deaf-mute ; but there 
 is no insuperable difficulty to prevent it. In fact, it is as easy 
 as to convey the same idea to a speaking person by means of 
 verbal definitions which often do nothing more than substitute 
 one intelligible word for another. 
 
 Entering, as he did, upon his new study with intelli- 
 gence and industry, Mr. Barnard found it far more inter- 
 
74 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 esting than he had anticipated. He rapidly learned all 
 that there was to be learned in the institution at Hartford, 
 read all the books on deaf-mute instruction that were to be 
 found in the library, and so prepared himself for other 
 duties and for more advanced studies in his next position. 
 So devoted was he to his work that during his vacation 
 he invented parlor games or charades in which the art of 
 pantomimic gesture was used to represent all sorts of 
 objects and ideas, to the great amusement and instruction 
 of his friends in Sheffield. In short, he devoted his 
 whole time and thought to the principles and practice of 
 deaf-mute instruction, and speedily became a master of 
 the former and an adept in the latter. 
 
 Among the pupils at the Hartford institution was a 
 young girl, Julia Brace, who had been deaf, dumb, and 
 blind from the age of four years, and whose attainments 
 were nearly as wonderful as those of Laura Bridgeman. 
 When she went to Hartford, she had long lost all recol- 
 lection of speech, but by the persevering assiduity of her 
 teachers she was taught to use the manual alphabet and 
 as much of the sign-language as could be communicated 
 to her through the sense of touch. She became an accom- 
 plished seamstress and usually made all her own gar- 
 ments. Strangers were astonished to see her thread a 
 needle by touching it with the tip of her tongue, which 
 she did more rapidly than most persons who do it with 
 the fingers. Her perceptive powers were wonderful. 
 She never forgot a person who had once been presented 
 to her, and seemed always to be aware of their presence 
 even when they made no effort to attract her attention. 
 Every member of the small community in the Asylum 
 was designated by a distinctive sign which answered the 
 purpose of a proper name. Mr. Barnard, for example, 
 was designated by placing the thumb nail of the closed 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 75 
 
 right hand against the chin, and whenever he approached 
 her, she invariably made that sign. Many strangers went 
 to the institution to see her, and would often test her 
 powers by placing in her hands a number of small objects, 
 such as handkerchiefs, gloves, watches, rings, snuff-boxes, 
 pencil-cases, and the like, which she would examine with 
 interest and would never fail to return to their several 
 owners. Until the better known case of Laura Bridge- 
 man, who was trained by Dr. S. G. Howe of Boston, 
 Julia Brace was perhaps the most remarkable illustration 
 on record of the extent to which persons who are both 
 blind and deaf can be relieved of some of the conse- 
 quences of their great affliction. 
 
 The Asiatic cholera had ravaged India for several 
 successive years. In 1832 it spread with frightful rapid- 
 ity across the continent of Europe, leaped the Atlantic, 
 appeared in Quebec, and, before the summer closed, its 
 desolating presence had brought dismay and death to 
 nearly every great centre of population in the United 
 States. Its movements were capricious ; some consider- 
 able towns escaped the scourge, while the population 
 of others was nearly decimated. Hartford was happily 
 spared, but throughout the season the anxiety of the 
 inhabitants was extreme. Many of them left their homes. 
 Mrs. Sigourney's elegant suburban residence, surrounded 
 with ample ornamental grounds, was situated in the 
 neighborhood of the Asylum, and before her departure 
 she begged Mr. Barnard and his friend Bartlett to oc- 
 cupy it as a protection against burglars. The young 
 men had no fear of the burglars, and they readily con- 
 sented; but the frightful accounts of sudden death from 
 cholera which filled the newspapers often caused them a 
 feeling of dread least they might be attacked at night and 
 perish before they could even call for help. At length 
 
76 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the terrible summer passed, and with its close came an 
 important change of position to the two young men. The 
 New York Institution for the Instruction of the Deaf and 
 Dumb was then in process of reorganization, and they had 
 both been invited to join its corps of teachers. It had 
 been founded in 1818, just one year later than the Hart- 
 ford Asylum. It had been generously aided by the State 
 and zealously fostered by its founders. Its projector, Dr. 
 Samuel Akerly, though not himself a practical teacher, 
 was its principal manager. He was a man of noble im- 
 pulses, of active benevolence, of great perseverance and 
 untiring industry, and was thoroughly devoted to his 
 special work. He had prepared and published an elabo- 
 rate system of progressive lessons for training the deaf to 
 the use of language; but it was his great misfortune to 
 believe so entirely in the perfection of his theory as 
 to fancy that he had nothing to learn from others. 
 He might have reached a different opinion if he had 
 attempted to work his theory in his own person; but as 
 he committed its practical application to his subordinates, 
 the result was not satisfactory. After several years of 
 dissatisfaction there arose a demand, which could not be 
 resisted, for a complete reform of the methods of the 
 institution; Dr. Akerly resigned, and the board of man- 
 agers proceeded to reorganize the corps of teachers. In 
 1831 they elected Mr. Harvey Pringle Peet, an accom- 
 plished instructor of the American Asylum at Hartford, 
 as principal, and they simultaneously called Mr. Le*on 
 Vaysse, an equally accomplished teacher from the school 
 of Sicard at Paris, to introduce and illustrate the latest 
 methods of the French system. On taking office Mr. 
 Peet was allowed carte blanche in the choice of his assist- 
 ants; and he resolved first, that, if possible, he would 
 have no man who had not been liberally educated, and 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 77 
 
 second, that he would endeavor to have none who had not 
 already had some experience in the art of teaching deaf- 
 mutes. Among the first persons whom he invited to join 
 him were Messrs. Bartlett and Barnard. The overture 
 was not immediately accepted; but they agreed to con- 
 sider it. During the latter part of the summer of 1832 
 they both went to Sheffield to attend the marriage of 
 Barnard's sister to the Hon. Augustus Porter of Detroit, 
 and after the wedding they joined a party of friends who 
 escorted the happy pair as far as Albany on their western 
 journey. At Albany it occurred to them that it would be 
 well to return to Hartford by the way of New York, and 
 to avail themselves of that opportunity to visit the New 
 York Institution. They did so, and the impression made 
 upon them by the aspect of the city at that time was 
 never forgotten. New York was like a city of the dead. 
 Business was completely at a standstill. The streets 
 were deserted. The cholera epidemic was over, but there 
 were still sporadic cases, and so gloomy did everything 
 appear that the two young men were sorely tempted 
 to depart without attending to the business which had 
 brought them there. Only their pride kept them from 
 making their escape. On visiting the Institution, how- 
 ever, they were so much pleased with its arrangements 
 and with the gentlemen connected with it that they at 
 once resolved to accept the invitation to take service 
 there. Returning, therefore, to Hartford, they resigned 
 their positions and were soon engaged in their new duties 
 in New York. 
 
 New York, as it was in 1832, was very different from 
 the same city as it appears in 1892. To say nothing of 
 the architecture, the streets on the East Side had extended 
 only as far north as about Thirteenth Street, and there 
 in a straggling way. On Broadway there was only one 
 
78 MEMOIES OP 
 
 house above the bend where Grace Church now stands, 
 and that solitary dwelling was unoccupied on account of 
 malaria. Union Square had not been laid out ; the space 
 which is now included within it was then occupied by a 
 rocky hill. A little northward, nearly where the Claren- 
 don Hotel now stands, was an elegant country villa belong- 
 ing to Mr. Pierson, a wealthy merchant and an earnest 
 disciple of a singular religious impostor who called him- 
 self Matthias, and who was usually the guest of Mr. Pier- 
 son. The strange story of this remarkable man was told 
 by Colonel William L. Stone in a small volume published 
 in 1835. In that vicinity the ground was all above the 
 grade of the streets, which were cut through the rock, 
 leaving the adjacent building lots to be reduced by their 
 owners. During the next five years the work of open- 
 ing and grading streets was carried as high as Twenty- 
 Second Street. It was not expected that the city would 
 extend further, and a sustaining wall was built on the 
 north side of that street. During the same five years the 
 Harlem Railway was chartered and constructed to con- 
 nect its terminus at Prince Street in the Bowery with 
 Harlem Village. Its line passed on an embankment 
 through a considerable pond, which was called Sunfish 
 Pond, not far from what is now Madison Square. The 
 cut through Murray Hill and the tunnel at Yorkville were 
 regarded as great works of engineering. Near the pres- 
 ent site of the Fifth Avenue Hotel was the House of 
 Refuge for Juvenile Delinquents. Beyond lay a wide 
 space of land, uninhabited and uncultivated, and traversed 
 only by a country road, from which, a little south of what 
 is now Fiftieth Street, a rude wheel-track led eastward 
 to the Institution of the Deaf and Dumb, and also to the 
 burial place of the pauper dead, known as the Potter's 
 Field. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 79 
 
 The Institution was a rather imposing building of con- 
 siderable dimensions, with a tasteful colonnade, standing 
 on a slight elevation, and fronting an extensive lawn 
 towards the south. It was furnished with a small but 
 excellent library in which were all the important works 
 then extant on the education of deaf-mutes. The little 
 band of teachers was composed of men of spirit and intel- 
 ligence. With the exception of M. Vaysse, who had 
 been educated at the College of France, and Mr. Gary, a 
 singularly gifted graduate of Princeton whose promising 
 career was too early closed by death, all of them were 
 Yale men : Peet the principal ; Bartlett, who afterwards 
 returned to the Hartford Asylum ; Barnard ; Samuel R. 
 Brown, who spent his later life in the service of the Mor- 
 rison Education Society in Japan; and George E. Day, 
 afterwards Professor of Biblical Literature at Yale. 
 These gentlemen were earnestly devoted to the study of 
 the principles and practice of their profession. Mr. Peet 
 was admitted by all of them to be the most accomplished 
 master of the sign-language they had ever known. M. 
 Vaysse was thoroughly versed in the methods and the 
 philosophy of the French institution. Mr. Bartlett was 
 peculiarly happy in his practical teaching in the class-room. 
 Messrs. Day, Gary, and Barnard had special aptitudes 
 for the study of principles. Remote as they were from 
 ordinary society, it was fortunate that they were congen- 
 ial to each other, and that they found their association 
 with each other to be both stimulating and agreeable. In 
 the daily routine of their work there was nothing unusual. 
 The ordinary studies of the pupils were pursued in the 
 mornings and afternoons, after which they were employed 
 in learning some handicraft under the instruction of 
 skilled mechanics. The evenings were spent in large 
 study rooms. Week by week one of the teachers was 
 
80 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 appointed to see that this routine was duly followed, to 
 conduct the chapel services and to superintend the even- 
 ing studies. The evening duty was particularly laborious 
 on account of the painful restlessness of the male pupils, 
 which exceeded anything that Mr. Barnard had yet seen. 
 The teachers had few recreations except music, of which 
 Barnard was passionately fond. His hearing, if it had 
 not improved, had grown no worse since he had left New 
 Haven ; and although his infirmity was a painful embar- 
 rassment to him throughout his life, his worst fears were 
 never realized, since it did not disqualify him for the pro- 
 fession of a teacher. In the study of music he took great 
 satisfaction. He practised on the piano as much as he 
 could, but his favorite instrument was the flute. His 
 brother John was an expert on the same instrument, and 
 as he was then engaged as a lieutenant of engineers in the 
 construction of Fort Schuyler near the head of Long 
 Island Sound, he usually spent his Saturdays and Sun- 
 days with Frederick at the Institution. Then the young 
 men would organize concerts, with none but themselves 
 for an audience. Vaysse was a vocalist of some preten- 
 sions. Brown was an excellent tenor. Barnard was a 
 basso profondo. Bartlett played the organ and the vio- 
 loncello, and on occasion could take the part of a con- 
 tralto. Those were the earliest days of the opera in New 
 York, and the first performance took place in the old 
 Park Theatre in Park Row, directly opposite the site of 
 the present post-office. The distance from the Institution 
 was about three miles and a half, and in 1832 there were 
 neither tram-cars nor omnibuses ; yet the whole staff, 
 with the sole exception of Mr. Peet, would often walk 
 to the theatre, returning to the Institution consider- 
 ably after midnight. On their homeward way they 
 would halt in "the wild untenanted waste at the top 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 81 
 
 of Murray Hill" to rest and refresh themselves with 
 snatches of song. 
 
 A cheerful, innocent, and brotherly life that of the 
 young teachers of the deaf and dumb seems to have been; 
 but it was not all, by any means, devoted to routine duty 
 and the study of music. Most of them, and Barnard 
 most of all, were attracted to scientific investigations. 
 During the five years of his residence at the Institution 
 numerous atmospheric and celestial phenomena occurred 
 which could not fail to attract his interest, and which 
 offered opportunities for varied applications of his mathe- 
 matical knowledge. There were frequent electrical dis- 
 plays on a scale of marvellous splendor, such as he never 
 saw equalled elsewhere. " In the absence of rain, and in 
 intervals between showers, while the sky was totally over- 
 cast with dense clouds, there would occur a continuous 
 succession of dazzling flashes of lightning, breaking out 
 with instantaneous suddenness in every quarter of the 
 heavens, and darting fiery zig-zags which seemed to chase 
 each other, sometimes for an hour or more together, 
 all over the celestial arch." This, too, as he has 
 recorded, 
 
 was one of the periods of maximum frequency and maximum 
 brilliancy of the aurora borealis, periods which, whether recur- 
 ring regularly or not, do certainly occur at wide intervals. I 
 kept up, in concert with observers elsewhere, and especially 
 with Edward L. Herrick, Esq., of New Haven, an assiduous 
 observation of these phenomena, and was rewarded by the 
 enjoyment of some of the most magnificent displays of celes- 
 tial chromatics that man has ever been permitted to witness. 
 Of one of the most remarkable of these displays, which occurred 
 as late as 1837, I attempted a descriptive account for publica- 
 tion, accompanied by some estimates of the height of the me- 
 teor above the earth, as deduced from a comparison of the 
 various aspects of the synchronous phases which had been ob- 
 
82 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 served from many widely distant points. The publication of 
 this paper incidentally became the occasion of the termination 
 of my connection with the Institution and of my entrance upon 
 a new field of labor in a distant State. 
 
 Barnard unfortunately missed seeing the famous star- 
 shower of November, 1832. It was seen by most of his 
 associates with mingled admiration and alarm, but in their 
 excitement they did not think to call him ; he slept quietly 
 during the whole time that the phenomenon lasted, and 
 when he heard of the almost appalling grandeur of the 
 spectacle, he could hardly forgive their negligence. His 
 friend Herrick at New Haven had been more fortunate, 
 and was one of the first to put forth the hypothesis that 
 these meteoric showers are periodic and that their cause 
 is probably cosmical. By a laborious investigation of old 
 records he satisfied himself that there is an unusual abun- 
 dance of shooting stars, if not literally of star-showers, 
 at other times than the month of November, and he indi- 
 cated the months of April and August as the times at 
 which their appearance is most remarkable. Both of 
 these conclusions have since been verified. Besides the 
 brochure above mentioned, Barnard made several notable 
 contributions, chiefly of a scientific nature, to the periodi- 
 cal literature of the day, and during the latter part of his 
 service at the institution he published a work on the sign- 
 language, entitled "Analytic Grammar, with Symbolic 
 Illustrations," in which he developed the system of Sicard 
 by modifying the symbols so as to indicate cases, moods, 
 and tenses, and in fact to exhibit the complete grammati- 
 cal structure of sentences without the use of words. 
 Soon after its publication the stereotype plates of this 
 work were destroyed by fire, and after the first edition 
 had been exhausted, it fell into disuse. Copies of it have 
 been eagerly sought by instructors of the deaf and dumb 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 83 
 
 in recent years, and so it has continued to be useful to 
 the present time. 
 
 Throughout these years Mr. Barnard was a regular 
 attendant at St. Thomas' Church at the corner of Broad- 
 way and Houston Street. Its rector was Dr. Francis L. 
 Hawks, who was then at the zenith of his fame and power 
 as a pulpit orator, and under his ministry it is believed 
 that Barnard was confirmed. Eighteen months before he 
 left New York, he became a candidate for holy orders 
 under Bishop Benjamin T. Onderdonk ; not that he had 
 any intention or expectation of engaging in the parochial 
 ministry, but because it was thought that to be clothed 
 with the ministerial character would contribute to his 
 usefulness in the profession of a teacher, to which he 
 had now definitively given himself. When he left New 
 York in 1837 his candidature lapsed, and it was many 
 years before it was renewed under Bishop Cobbs of 
 Alabama. 
 
 In the autumn of 1837 the remarkable investigations 
 of Professor Faraday at the Royal Institution in London 
 had excited a general and lively interest in electro-mag- 
 netism on both sides of the Atlantic, and Barnard was 
 engaged to write an article on that subject for a magazine 
 conducted by Park Benjamin. In the preparation of his 
 article he found it necessary to visit New Haven in order 
 to obtain certain information which was to be had only 
 in the library of his old friend and instructor, Professor 
 Silliman. Having completed his work, he walked to the 
 steamer to return to New York in company with Mr. 
 Gregory Pericaris, an accomplished Greek gentleman who 
 had been driven from his home in Scio during the Greek 
 war of independence. As they approached the steamer, 
 they observed Dr. Day, the President of Yale College, 
 in company with another gentleman, whom Mr. Pericaris 
 
84 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 recognized as Dr. Basil Manly, a distinguished Baptist 
 clergyman of Charleston, South Carolina, who had re- 
 cently been elected to the presidency of the University 
 of Alabama. Barnard did not fail to observe with satis- 
 faction that Dr. Manly was unconventional enough to 
 carry his own valise, an act which would have been 
 deemed highly improper for a gentleman in Charleston. 
 The two college presidents were likewise on their way to 
 New York, and Barnard gladly accepted the offer of Mr. 
 Pericaris to introduce him to President Manly. With 
 President Day, of course, he was already acquainted. 
 
 During the trip to New York Dr. Manly had consid- 
 erable conversation with Barnard, whose paper on the 
 aurora he had read with interest. He explained that 
 the University of Alabama had been in existence only 
 about six years when it was completely broken up by the 
 tumultuous insubordination of the students, and every 
 member of the Faculty had either resigned or been 
 removed. His object in visiting the North, he said, was 
 to consult with experienced educators, and particularly 
 with the presidents of Yale and Harvard, on the best 
 methods of reorganizing the institution, and to induce 
 competent men to become candidates for the various 
 professorships. He had found suitable men to nominate 
 to the Board of Trustees as candidates for all the chairs 
 except that of English Literature, and he frankly asked 
 Barnard how he would like to undertake that depart- 
 ment. Barnard replied that his preference had always 
 been for scientific studies, and that he would more will- 
 ingly have accepted the chair of Mathematics or Natural 
 Philosophy. Dr. Manly suggested to him that he might 
 at least send on his testimonials. The testimonials were 
 forwarded, and two months later Barnard received from 
 Governor Arthur P. Bagley, ex officio President of the 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 85 
 
 Board of Trustees of the University of Alabama, a formal 
 announcement of his election to the Professorship of 
 Mathematics and Natural Philosophy, with an urgent 
 request that he would enter on his work without delay. 
 For this result of his candidature he was doubtless 
 indebted to the favorable account of him which had been 
 personally given to Dr. Manly by Dr. Day. 
 
 While he was ready and glad to accept the position 
 offered him, it was unfortunately not possible for him 
 to go at once to Alabama, as he had just made a positive 
 engagement to present the claims of the deaf and dumb 
 to the Legislature of Virginia. Accordingly, before go- 
 ing to the further South, he visited Richmond, taking 
 with him half a dozen of the most proficient pupils in 
 the New York Institution. Several public exhibitions 
 were given before the Legislature and citizens of Rich- 
 mond in exemplification of the best methods and results 
 of the scientific instruction of deaf-mutes, and the result 
 was the passage of an act establishing an Institution 
 for the Deaf and Dumb at Staunton, Virginia. Thus 
 a month passed before Barnard could leave New York, 
 and as no railways had yet been constructed to connect 
 the South with the North, he was obliged to take passage 
 on a sailing-vessel to Mobile. His voyage lasted nearly 
 three weeks, and when he arrived at Mobile he found 
 that very slight hopes of the success of the University 
 were entertained by the citizens of Alabama. One of 
 the trustees on whom he called bluntly said to him, 
 "You will never be able to govern those boys at Tus- 
 kaloosa while the world stands." Barnard was not dis- 
 couraged, however, believing, as he did, that he knew 
 more of the art of governing boys and young men than 
 the trustee either knew or could know. He went, there- 
 fore, in good heart and hope to Tuskaloosa, arriving 
 
86 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 there about the first of March ; and although there were 
 serious difficulties of discipline while he was connected 
 with the University, there were none which directly con- 
 cerned himself, and none which he was not more or less 
 useful in solving. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 
 
 PROFESSOR OF MATHEMATICS AND NATURAL 
 
 PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF ALABAMA 
 
 1848 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 87 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 Barnard at the University of Alabama His varied services Foucault's 
 experiment Becomes Professor of Chemistry Invents an improve- 
 ment in photography Barnard as editor An editorial mystification 
 Magazine literature A Masonic oration Appointed astronomer to 
 the Boundary Commission of Florida and Alabama Barnard's mar- 
 riage A fortunate union Barnard becomes a candidate for orders 
 His service to the temperance movement A noble discourse on the 
 Union, and its effect. 
 
 PROFESSOR BARNARD'S connection with the University 
 of Alabama continued from the spring of 1838 until the 
 autumn of 1854, and included some of the happiest 
 and most fruitful years of his life. His natural gayety 
 of character and his rare attractiveness of person soon 
 made him a favorite of the young; his varied accom- 
 plishments, which enabled him to render any service 
 required in any department of the University, com- 
 manded the admiration of his colleagues; his untiring 
 industry and his soundness of judgment won for him the 
 respect and confidence of his superiors; his technical 
 knowledge enabled him to render an important service to 
 the State. He did more duty at the University than any 
 one of his colleagues ; his hours of leisure were spent in 
 editing one newspaper, writing for another, contributing 
 to a literary journal, making original scientific experi- 
 ments, improving the new art of photography, and ex- 
 tending his mathematical investigations, and all the 
 while he was maturing those advanced views of college 
 and university organization which caused him in due 
 time to be recognized as a master of the art and science 
 
88 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 of education. During his residence in Alabama his 
 physical health was perfect, and his intellectual powers 
 were at their best. If he neither hasted nor rested, it 
 was because his energies were inexhaustible, and a 
 change of occupation never failed to yield him recrea- 
 tion and repose. A rapid sketch of those laborious but 
 joyous years will sufficiently illustrate and justify these 
 observations. 
 
 From 1838 to 1848 Professor Barnard held the chair of 
 Mathematics and Natural Philosophy, and the universal 
 testimony of his pupils is that he made those depart- 
 ments of their curriculum exceptionally interesting and 
 attractive. He was obliged, of course, to use the text- 
 books of the time ; but he used them only as texts for 
 his own original comments, and the methods of instruc- 
 tion which he followed then have since been approved 
 and adopted in the best institutions of the country. In 
 1846 he induced the trustees of the University to establish 
 a small astronomical observatory which he took great 
 delight in furnishing ; but before he had been able to 
 do much work in it, he was transferred to the chair 
 of Chemistry and Natural History, which he held until 
 1854, and the observatory passed into the charge of his 
 successor in the chair of Mathematics, the distinguished 
 Professor L. C. Garland, afterwards President of Van- 
 derbilt University. 
 
 During the earlier years of his residence in Tuskaloosa 
 that town was the capital of the State, and the sessions of 
 the Legislature which were held there were seasons of 
 much excitement and social activity. Presently there 
 arose a violent agitation for the removal of the seat of 
 government. The two principal competitors of Tuska- 
 loosa were Selma and Montgomery, both on the Alabama 
 River, the latter being at the head of navigation, but the 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 89 
 
 former having the advantage of being nearer the geographi- 
 cal centre of the State. The claims of Selma were urged 
 by one of its advocates in a rather curious way. He 
 caused a metallic plate to be cut in the form of a map 
 of the State and showed that the plate would exactly 
 balance on a point corresponding with the position of 
 Selma on the map. His argument, ingenious as it was, 
 did not prevail, and on a popular vote Montgomery was 
 chosen as the capital by a large majority. The substan- 
 tial edifice which had been used as a State-House was 
 given by the Legislature to the University, but little 
 use was made of it for a considerable time. Professor 
 Barnard used it, however, for the purpose of repeating 
 the interesting experiment of Foucault, demonstrating 
 the fact of the earth's rotation by means of a pendulum. 
 From the dome of the building he suspended a pendu- 
 lum ninety feet long. The bob was a leaden globe, eight 
 inches in diameter, which he turned on the lathe with his 
 own hand to a perfect sphere, and suspended by a steel 
 piano-wire on knife-edges acting on the principle of the 
 universal joint. The editor of one of the journals of 
 Tuskaloosa was unwise enough to ridicule the experi- 
 ment, but the only effect of his satire was to advertise 
 it to the public. All classes of citizens attended to 
 observe it for themselves, and their interest in the ex- 
 periment was fairly equalled by their admiration of the 
 professor by whom it was conducted. 
 
 After he became Professor of Chemistry, Barnard paid 
 considerable attention to photography, and while the 
 daguerreotype process was still in general use, he dis- 
 covered a method of accelerating the luminous impres- 
 sions by the use of gaseous chlorine. He also invented a 
 method of producing stereopticon plates for binocular 
 vision, both impressions of the pair of plates being made 
 
90 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 at a single exposure. Specimens of his invention were 
 sent to Philadelphia for exhibition at a fair of the Frank- 
 lin Institute, but unfortunately too late for entry. He 
 had the satisfaction, nevertheless, to be assured by Pro- 
 fessor Dana of New Haven, who was chairman of the 
 jury, that his exhibit would undoubtedly have received 
 the first prize, if it had arrived in time. Stimulated 
 by this encouragement, he threw himself more enthusi- 
 astically than ever into the study of photography, estab- 
 lished a gallery for taking portraits, and devoted to it 
 all the time he could spare from his academic duties. 
 Though he had a partner in this enterprise, a friend has 
 recorded that "he went into the business with sleeves 
 rolled up, and manipulated the camera with such skill 
 as to produce really fine specimens of the art, so that 
 the faces of the belles and beaux of Tuskaloosa were 
 speedily duplicated to the infinite gratification of young 
 and old. The interest he took in such things as these, 
 when he did take hold of them, was absorbing, and this 
 he made no effort to conceal." 
 
 During his sixteen or seventeen years of constant service 
 in Tuskaloosa, it frequently happened that one or other 
 of the members of the Faculty was absent or temporarily 
 disabled, and in every such case Professor Barnard was 
 ready to take additional duty. On two several occasions 
 the chair of English Literature remained vacant for a 
 whole year, and in both instances he supplied the vacancy 
 without allowing the additional labor to interfere with the 
 work of his own department. At the same time he was 
 actively engaged in journalism, and he seems to have 
 regarded his editorial occupation in the light of an amuse- 
 ment. Tuskaloosa had the questionable advantage of two 
 political newspapers, severally representing the two great 
 political parties of the time. In his political principles 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 91 
 
 Barnard was an ardent Whig, and when Mr. Miller, 
 editor of The Monitor, the leading organ of that party 
 in Middle Alabama, retired from his position to write a 
 biographical work on The Bench and Bar of Georgia, 
 Professor Barnard became, and for several years remained, 
 the actual but unavowed editor of the paper. It is said 
 that The Monitor was never so sprightly or so prosperous 
 as under his administration. He certainly took every 
 means to make it so, and he generously contrived to make 
 the prosperity of his own publication contribute to that of 
 its antagonist. In fact, he wrote for both, and it often 
 happened that the most trenchant attacks of the Demo- 
 cratic organ upon the principles and conduct of the Whig 
 party were really from the pen of the editor of The Monitor, 
 who would proceed next week to repel his own assault 
 and follow it up with a caustic criticism of the unprinci- 
 pled misconduct of the Democratic party. This humorous 
 mystification was so admirably managed, and the secret 
 of it was so thoroughly well kept, as never to be sus- 
 pected by the readers of the two papers. During the 
 sessions of the Legislature at Montgomery, another harm- 
 less deception was practised on the rural politicians of 
 Middle Alabama. The Montgomery newspapers of both 
 parties were published daily; the Tuskaloosa papers were 
 published weekly. With the aid of the Montgomery 
 papers, Barnard used to prepare complete summaries of 
 the transactions of the Legislature in the form of letters, 
 dated from Montgomery, which duly appeared in each 
 of the Tuskaloosa papers, with political speculations and 
 forecasts of probabilities colored to suit the prepossessions 
 of their several supporters. It was often a source of 
 humorous satisfaction to Barnard to hear his fellow- 
 citizens of both parties remark that the weekly corre- 
 spondence of the papers in Tuskaloosa gave them a clearer 
 
92 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 understanding of the movements of the political world 
 than they could ever gather from the more voluminous 
 reports of the Montgomery daily newspapers! 
 
 In 1845, a literary monthly magazine, called The South- 
 ron, was established at Tuskaloosa, by the Hon. Judge 
 A. B. Meek, a graduate of the University of Alabama, 
 and a poet of considerable local reputation. He was 
 assisted in his enterprise by several well-known writers, 
 and among them by the Hon. W. R. Smith, a member of 
 Congress from that district, who, at one time after the 
 war, became President of the University. To this maga- 
 zine Professor Barnard was a large contributor of prose 
 and verse, and even his prose seems to have been made 
 the vehicle of poesy. In the specimens of his composition 
 which have been preserved, there may be nothing to indi- 
 cate poetic genius of a high order, but there is more than 
 enough to prove that if he had chosen literature as a pro- 
 fession, he might have taken high rank among the writers 
 of his country. Three short pieces will suffice to illustrate 
 his facility in versification. The first is a graceful sonnet 
 
 entitled 
 
 A VALENTINE. 
 
 As one who loveth on the stars to gaze, 
 
 Oft chooseth out the fairest for his own, 
 His rapt eye nightly feeding on its blaze, 
 
 With a deep gladness known to him alone ; 
 
 Nor heedeth from how far its light hath shone, 
 And ever must, though soft it round him plays : 
 
 Since to its worship so his heart hath grown, 
 
 He would not snatch it from its azure throne, 
 To mingle earth's pollution with its rays : 
 Thus beauty's galaxy mine eye surveys, 
 
 Yet, of all fair forms, f asteneth on thine ; 
 Therefore do I, to cheer my weary days, 
 Make thee, sweet stranger, goddess of my lays, 
 
 And choose thee out to be my Valentine. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 93 
 
 The second is a rhapsody, the occasion of which is told 
 as follows : 
 
 Miss Trifle had told me as all young ladies, I believe, 
 tell all young gentlemen who indulge in protestations of 
 eternal love and eternal what is the word? constancy 
 that if I were to return to Higginsport, or elsewhere absent 
 myself for a fortnight, I should forget that there was such a 
 being as she on two two feet in all the world. Where- 
 upon I gallantly responded : 
 
 " Forget thee ! " Bid the earth forget 
 
 Its viewless track around the sun ; 
 Forget thee ! on the dial let 
 
 The shadow cease its course to run. 
 
 " Forget thee ! " Bid the restless sea 
 
 Forget to beat upon the shore ; 
 Or bid the honey-seeking bee 
 
 Gather the sweets he loves, no more. 
 
 " Forget thee ! " Bid the needle cease 
 
 Its silent homage to the pole ; 
 Or waters, in their glad release, 
 
 From ice- clad mountain-tops to rolL 
 
 Bid the young bud forget to spread 
 
 Its petals in the sunny hour ; 
 Or summer eves forget to shed 
 
 Their dews upon the tender flower. 
 
 Bid yon bright stars, that have their birth 
 
 Far in immensity of blue, 
 That nightly smile on sleeping earth 
 
 And light up diamonds in the dew 
 
 Yea ! bid them all in darkness set 
 
 Cease evermore the world to bless ; 
 Yet tell not me I may forget ; 
 
 I hate that wordforgetfulness. 
 
 No trifle ever grieved me more than the wasteful expen- 
 diture of these stanzas. However, it served me right; for 
 there was not a word of truth in the whole. 
 
94 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 The "Ode to a Jack-knife" occurs in a story, the hero of 
 which had discovered that clumsy piece of cutlery in his 
 lady's work-box, and begged her to tell him to what use 
 such fingers as hers could apply such an instrument. 
 
 " < I will answer this one question [she said] and then, Jerry, 
 unless you can learn to cease meddling, I shall insist on your 
 putting a wall between us, in fact. That knife is used to crimp 
 ruffles. Be content with that, and sit farther away at once.' 
 
 "In my haste, I neglected to replace the jack-knife in the 
 work-box, but presently after, in a fit of absence, consigned it 
 to my own pocket. 
 
 " That night I seized my pen, and then and there, < accoutred 
 as I was/ I sat me down and gave vent to my ' thick-coming 
 fancies ' in an effusion which I long after regarded as my chef 
 d'oeuvre. I mingled in it no strain of earthly love it was all 
 grandeur and sublimity the outpouring of my lofty concep- 
 tions of the glorious destiny which had befallen that humble, 
 unpretending jack-knife. The reader shall have an oppor- 
 tunity of judging of the merits of my performance. Indeed, 
 I think it important to insert the whole production in this 
 place, inasmuch as it was made the subject of one of the most 
 atrocious attacks upon my literary character, in that pestilent 
 journal the Doolittle Hollow Orb of Day, it has ever been my 
 lot to undergo. 
 
 " Considering the grandeur of effect it was my purpose to 
 produce, I adopted a stanza only employed by the great poets 
 in treating subjects of a certain elevation; and I aimed, I 
 trust not unsuccessfully, at combining majesty of movement 
 with majesty of thought in the following 
 
 ODE TO A JACK-KNIFE. 
 " Time was when thou wast sleeping in the ore, 
 And when the massive haft that decks thee now, 
 In the proud antler, on his prouder brow, 
 Some noble tenant of the forest bore. 
 
 *' Man came and digged thee out then fashion'd thee 
 Into a jack-knife, such as boors employ 
 Virginian weed to cut, or truant boy 
 Th' inglorious birch to sever from the tree. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 95 
 
 " Yet thou escapes! such ignoble fate, 
 
 No vulgar pocket doth thy prison make, 
 But fingers whiter than the snowy flake 
 Confine thee, as the cambric's folds they plait. 
 
 " Yet, favor'd jack-knife, all unconscious still 
 And senseless to thy happy lot art thou ; 
 Nor ever know'st like him who on thee now 
 Is sadly gazing either joy or ill. 
 
 " No heart is throbbing in that iron breast, 
 
 No soul, with ceaseless stragglings to be free 
 And robe itself in immortality 
 Its heavenly birthright robs thee of thy rest. 
 
 " Suns rise and set, and seasons come and go, 
 And mighty empires totter to their fall, 
 And blood-stained despots triumph yet of all 
 Thou'rt heedless ; would I were a jack-knife, too ! " 
 
 These editorial and literary labors were merely pas- 
 times to Professor Barnard, or, at most, exercises prepar- 
 atory to the more important work to which he seems 
 always to have looked forward, and valuable because of 
 the facility and dexterity in the use of his powers to which 
 they contributed. In the same spirit of half playful and 
 half serious self -discipline he availed himself of such oppor- 
 tunities as occurred to him for exercise in public speaking. 
 The first occasion on which he appeared as an orator was 
 the Feast of St. John the Baptist, 1841, when he delivered 
 an address to the Masonic Lodge of Tuskaloosa on " The 
 Claims of Masonry to the Respect and Veneration of 
 Mankind." This address is noteworthy for its intrinsic 
 merit, and not only on account of its place in his career. 
 Considered simply as a composition, it is singularly 
 chaste; perhaps, indeed, it is the most strictly classical 
 production of his pen; as an apology for the Masonic 
 Order it is admirable ; and, from first to last, it exhibits 
 a mastery of the art of lucid statement, a felicity and 
 
96 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 copiousness of illustration, and a rich vein of humorous 
 irony which would have made him both admired and 
 dreaded either in the senate or in the forum. In the 
 opening of this address, he declines to consider the mali- 
 cious and frivolous objections alleged against the Masonic 
 Order, and proceeds at once to demand for it the homage 
 of respect and veneration on the ground of "its high 
 antiquity, of the pure and exalted nature of its designs, 
 and of the blameless characters, the lofty attainments 
 and the widespread celebrity of many of its officers and 
 members in every age." 
 
 As to its antiquity, he said that the innumerable efforts 
 to discredit Masonic tradition, by ascribing the origin of 
 the order to the Eleusinian Mysteries, the Egyptian 
 Priesthoods, the British Druids, the Dionysian Archi- 
 tects, the Pythagorean Fraternities, the Hebrew Essenes, 
 and the Roman Workmen's Colleges, at least conceded 
 the antiquity of the Masonic institutions, and at the same 
 time relieved the advocates of Masonry of the necessity 
 of refuting them, since they were reciprocally destructive. 
 He drily suggested that since the irreconcilable differences 
 of its opponents prove that it is somewhat difficult for the 
 uninitiated to learn the truth of the matter, it may be 
 barely possible that the traditions of the order are more 
 trustworthy than the speculations of outsiders. Tradition, 
 he argued, is a necessary and inseparable adjunct of every 
 ancient institution, and he asked whether it may not be 
 "just possible that truth will descend as readily as fable?" 
 In Masonic tradition it is reasonable to suppose that truth, 
 and not fable, has been handed down from age to age, 
 for otherwise it is impossible to explain the acknowledged 
 fact that the institutions of the order, as they have been 
 preserved in widely separated regions and in the most 
 various civilizations, remain to this day everywhere sub- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 97 
 
 stantially the same. He did not assert that the antiquity 
 of an institution is a conclusive proof of its merit; but 
 he justified the general judgment of mankind that insti- 
 tutions which are unquestionably ancient are likewise 
 venerable. 
 
 The probabilities [he said] are in favor of whatever has 
 stood the test of time. If in the multitude of counsellors 
 there is safety, it may be presumed that in the unvarying 
 accord of numberless judgments there is ground for anticipat- 
 ing the truth. What has been received by generation after 
 generation without question or dispute, is supported by a vast 
 weight of authority and is corroborated by the results of ex- 
 perience. Talk to an Englishman of the evils of monarchy, 
 and he will meet you with the inquiry, " Has not ours worked 
 well ? " Predict anarchy to an American, from the vast power 
 vested in the people of the republic, and he will ask, " Does 
 not our past history prove your apprehension to be ground- 
 less ? " It is thus that whatever has stood the test of time 
 commands, and, in general, justly, the confidence of mankind. 
 
 But if mere antiquity thus creates a presumption in 
 favor of an institution, the presumption is immensely 
 strengthened if an unquestionably ancient institution has 
 been subjected to many and bitter persecutions. Nothing 
 that is not intrinsically excellent can withstand every sort 
 of opposition. Error may make head for a time; it may 
 be proof against one or another weapon of its adversaries ; 
 but there is no error which may not be successfully 
 assailed in some point. Masonry has been assailed at all 
 points; by irresponsible power, inspired with jealousy, 
 hate, anger, caprice, and unrestrained by any sentiment 
 of right, humanity, or decency ; by gloomy supersti- 
 tion, which paralyzes the reason and converts the highest 
 endowment of the race into an instrument of delusion and 
 terror; by popular prejudice; by political passions; by 
 
98 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ridicule, "a weapon which, assailing man in his weakest 
 point, often shames him into abandoning that from which 
 the dread of death could not have driven him." By all 
 of these the institution of Masonry has been attacked. 
 It has by no means escaped unscathed; and yet, "like 
 Christianity, though often fearfully wounded, it has not 
 been wounded to the death. Thus it has proved itself to 
 be possessed of an indestructible principle of vitality 
 which demonstrates its inherent excellence and vindicates 
 its claim to the respect and veneration of mankind." 
 
 The secret of the indestructible permanence of Masonry, 
 Professor Barnard continued, is to be found in the objects 
 for which it was instituted, which were and are the culti- 
 vation of science, the observance of a pure morality, and 
 the practice of brotherly love and fraternal charity. It is 
 incredible that so widespread an institution should have 
 been able to maintain itself age after age in the face of 
 relentless persecution, if it had not in some good degree 
 accomplished the objects of its erection. The pretence 
 that it has had other and more sinister objects is without 
 foundation. " If it has ever been the enemy of social or 
 political order, point to the nation it has revolutionized 
 name the monarch it has dethroned ! If it has ever been 
 the insidious foe of religion or of the Church, instance the 
 sacrilege it has perpetrated, tell us the temples it has 
 made desolate! " The members of the order themselves 
 best know how its aspirations are fostered and how largely 
 its sacred objects are pursued. It is too true that not all 
 Masons are virtuous ; but if that fact were sufficient to 
 condemn the order, then the Christian Church must be 
 condemned because it fails to make all its members sober, 
 righteous, and godly men. It is true, too, that the duties 
 which Masonry cultivates and enforces are natural duties; 
 but the Masonic Society is not therefore to be set down as 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 99 
 
 useless. Rather the reverse, since it brings to the enforce- 
 ment of natural obligations the vast power of organization 
 and the subtle influences of intimate association. The 
 trustful reliance of brother upon brother unites men's 
 hearts, strengthens their resolves, soothes them in times of 
 trouble, and adds joy to happiness itself. Moreover, the 
 unsectarian catholicity of Masonry must tend to enlarge 
 men's sympathies and broaden their charities. It knows 
 no distinctions of politics or of religion. Men who meet 
 elsewhere as strangers or antagonists, in the lodge meet only 
 as friends and brothers; and into whatsoever region any 
 Mason goes, whatever be the dominant religion or the 
 constituted form of government, he may hope to find men 
 who will know him as a brother, and as a brother only. 
 In short, however devout he may be, or rather, the more 
 devout he is, the more deeply must a true Mason be con- 
 vinced that his first duty as a man and as a Mason is to be 
 humane ! 
 
 That the Masonic Order has not failed in the attainment 
 of its objects Professor Barnard held to be proved by the 
 character of the men whom it has honored with the chief 
 control of its affairs, and whose lives are the best vindica- 
 tion of its principles. Its loyalty to constituted govern- 
 ment has been proved in its English branch by the fact 
 that eleven kings of England, one Prince of Wales, two 
 royal dukes, and many noblemen have held the exalted sta- 
 tion of Grand Master. That it has had the confidence of 
 the Church is shown by the fact that the greatest of English 
 cardinals, the sagacious Wolsey, two archbishops of Can- 
 terbury, one archbishop of York, seven bishops, and three 
 mitred abbots have held the same dignity. Its respect for 
 learning has been shown by electing to the same office the 
 celebrated architects Inigo Jones and Christopher Wren 
 and the equally celebrated philosopher Desaguliers. In 
 
100 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 this country the names of such Masons as Washington, 
 Warren, Hamilton, Clinton, Lafayette, Jackson, and many 
 others are sufficient to justify the assertion that an order 
 to which they allied themselves could not have been 
 unworthy of them. 
 
 Replying to the popular objection to the secrecy of 
 Masonry, he ironically suggested that it should be 
 abolished. 
 
 Eschew [he said] this formidable secrecy. Unveil the mys- 
 teries of your craft. Like the peripatetic philosophers, pursue 
 your studies and pronounce your lectures in the public groves. 
 In your charities, reverse the precept of the Saviour. When 
 thou doest thine alms, do as the hypocrites do ! Sound a trum- 
 pet before you in the streets and synagogues, that you may be 
 seen of men ; and then, like the Pharisee, thank God with a 
 loud voice that you are not as other men are. Emulate the 
 moralist, who desired to live in a house of glass that all the 
 world might see the most secret acts of his life. Peradventure 
 you may thus succeed in winning over the good will of those 
 whose delicate scruples and tender consciences force them to 
 withhold from you the light of their countenances. 
 
 Continuing in a graver mood, he showed that such objects 
 as those of Masonry ought not, in modesty or decency, to 
 be pursued with ostentation, and that to make the order 
 effective for those purposes the confidence of private fra- 
 ternal association is indispensable. He reminded his hear- 
 ers that the Christian Church, at certain critical periods 
 of its history, had assumed the character of a secret asso- 
 ciation. He instanced the fact that the Senate of the 
 United States, and the Senates of the several States, in 
 their capacity as executive advisers, are secret associations, 
 created and established as such by the written constitutions 
 of the land, sitting with closed doors, their transactions 
 veiled in secrecy, and their members bound by solemn 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 101 
 
 oaths not to lift the veil from their proceedings. From 
 these instances he concluded that the secret transaction of 
 business cannot be necessarily or universally wrong. That 
 secret associations may be formed for evil purposes is true; 
 but so may open associations. That secrecy makes bad 
 societies more dangerous is admitted; but then either the 
 evil purpose precedes the organization, or else an original 
 good purpose is radically changed, and in either case its 
 members do not only cast a veil of secrecy around their 
 proceedings; they hide, if possible, the very fact of their 
 association. They hate the light because their deeds are 
 evil. In no such sense is Masonry a secret institution. 
 Its existence is avowed. Its purposes are openly pro- 
 claimed. The times of its assembly are published. Many 
 of its ceremonies are performed before the world. It 
 keeps nothing secret but its own peculiar business, which 
 there are sufficient reasons for keeping to itself. 
 
 Referring to the political persecution of the Masonic 
 Order, which had then happily passed away, Professor 
 Barnard closed his address with warm congratulations to 
 his brethren on the favorable auspices under which their 
 communications were now held. He encouraged them to 
 expect a future of great prosperity for their order. He 
 urged them to justify their privileges by obedience to its 
 principles, and to remember that "the Great Light of 
 Masonry is the Word of God." 
 
 It is not only as his first public discourse in Alabama 
 that this address is remarkable ; from the day of its pub- 
 lication it had the effect of making him a marked man 
 in that State. In their love and admiration of eloquence 
 the people of the South are thorough Greeks, and this 
 address represented an order of eloquence which is rarely 
 heard in the pulpit, in the forum, or at the hustings. The 
 cogency of its reasoning, the lightness of its humor, its 
 
102 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 earnestness of moral purpose, its broad catholicity of sen- 
 timent, and the chaste felicity of its diction commended 
 the advocate of Masonry to the respect of thousands who 
 were not interested in his cause. The Masonic fraternity 
 was proud of its champion; the University was proud of 
 its representative; men of all conditions in the State were 
 proud of their fellow-citizen. The attention thus attracted 
 to him led, of course, to a recognition of his more peculiar 
 merits as a man of science. Nothing but time was needed 
 to afford some opportunity of public distinction; and the 
 time required was not long. In 1846 he was called to 
 serve the State on an occasion of high importance. 
 
 In that year the States of Alabama and Florida ap- 
 pointed a joint commission to ascertain and permanently 
 settle the boundary between them. While Florida was 
 still a Spanish possession, the boundary line between it 
 and the territory of the United States was established by 
 treaty at the 31st parallel of north latitude, and when 
 Florida and Alabama had both become States of the Union, 
 the same parallel remained the boundary between them. 
 Unfortunately, however, it then appeared that in 1796 
 two boundary lines had been surveyed and distinctively 
 marked in accordance with the Spanish treaty, and that 
 these two did not coincide. At the Chattahoochee River 
 they were distant from each other by more than a mile; 
 towards the west the distance diminished until, at the 
 Perdido, the western boundary of Florida, it was only a 
 few hundred feet. The strip of land between the two 
 lines was virtually a no-man's-land, and became the natu- 
 ral resort of criminals and desperadoes from both States, 
 since, within that strip, they could defy the officers of 
 the law. Alabama claimed the more southern line as the 
 boundary; Florida claimed the more northern, and while 
 the question of jurisdiction remained unsettled, neither 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 103 
 
 State could exercise effectual jurisdiction in the disputed 
 territory. The joint commission appointed by the two 
 States to put an end to this anomaly included commis- 
 sioners and an astronomer on the part of each State. Pro- 
 fessor Barnard was appointed astronomer for Alabama, 
 and an officer of the United States Engineer Corps was 
 appointed astronomer on the part of Florida. The com- 
 mission was instructed to begin its work at the intersec- 
 tion of the disputed lines with the Chattahoochee River. 
 On arriving at the place of meeting, Professor Barnard 
 found the commissioners for Alabama already in camp; 
 the commissioners for Florida reported themselves soon 
 afterwards; but the astronomer for Florida did not make 
 his appearance, and by joint consent Barnard was requested 
 to act in behalf of that State also. 
 
 On investigation, it appeared that the more south- 
 ern of the two boundary lines was marked by circular 
 mounds of earth, about a mile apart, each surrounded by 
 a ditch from which the earth had been thrown up to form 
 the mound. The other line was marked by "blazes" of 
 the trees, every tree on the line being blazed both on the 
 north and on the south side ; and all other trees within 
 about one hundred feet north and south of the line were 
 blazed on the side nearest the line. Thus the blazed line 
 was easily followed, as the whole country was covered 
 with a dense forest of pines. Barnard's first proceeding 
 was to make observations to determine the latitude ; and, 
 as it was impossible to use fixed instruments, he was 
 obliged to depend upon a reflecting circle with an artifi- 
 cial horizon. He presently satisfied himself that the 
 southern line, marked by mounds, was the true line, and 
 his conviction was speedily verified. In running due west, 
 they invariably went directly from mound to mound, 
 while the blazed line was found to be crooked. The 
 
104 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 conclusion was that the blazed line was what surveyors 
 call a "random line." At the time of the treaty with 
 Spain, the whole Gulf Coast belonged to that power ; 
 and the government surveyors in 1796 began to run the 
 treaty line due east from the Mississippi. It seemed that 
 they must have run their first line by compass, blazing 
 their way as they went ; and that, after reaching the 
 Chattahoochee, they had made observations to correct their 
 errors, and so had established the mound line by offsets. 
 Having come to this conclusion and laid it before the com- 
 missioners, Barnard was requested to continue the further 
 investigation of the line westward by himself alone. This 
 he accordingly did, not, however, by following the lines 
 continuously, but by examining them at different points. 
 At no point did he fail to find both lines, though the 
 distance between them varied greatly, and at the Tensaw 
 (the western branch of the Alabama) they were so near 
 together that an arrow might have been shot from 
 the one to the other. Between the two branches of the 
 Perdido River he came upon traces of the camp of the 
 original surveyors of 1796 in a beautiful grove of beech 
 trees, on the bark of which were inscriptions of names, 
 dates, and fanciful figures. A countryman whom he had 
 employed as a guide had served in his boyhood as a chain- 
 carrier in the original survey, and recognized the names 
 inscribed on the beech trees as the names of men who had 
 accompanied that expedition. On his return to Alabama, 
 Professor Barnard made his report to the governors of 
 Alabama and Florida. It was accepted and approved 
 by both ; and, shortly afterwards, the Legislatures of the 
 two States concurred in establishing the mound line as 
 the boundary between them. 
 
 Soon after his return from the Florida boundary Pro- 
 fessor Barnard married Miss Margaret McMurray, a young 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 105 
 
 lady of English parentage who had gone from her home 
 in Ohio to pay a long visit to relatives in Alabama. This 
 union was in every way fortunate. It was emphatically 
 a love match on both sides, and it remained a marriage 
 of love on both sides for more than forty years. It was 
 certainly not a prudent marriage, as the world counts 
 prudence, for neither Barnard nor his bride was rich ; in 
 fact, they were both poor, and what was worse, Barnard 
 was in debt. His income had never been large, and he 
 was no economist. While he had money, he spent it 
 freely on his scientific experiments, in the purchase of 
 books and instruments, in the pleasures of the day, or in 
 the service of his friends ; when his purse was empty, as 
 it generally was, he had unlimited credit which he was 
 only too ready to use. Mrs. Barnard soon brought order 
 into his confused affairs. His debts must be paid, of 
 course, and to pay them out of his small income meant 
 nothing less than systematic and long-continued self-denial 
 in the homeliest affairs of life. For years she kept their 
 expenditures at the lowest limit, stinting even their table 
 in the use of meats and drinks which are commonly re- 
 garded as necessaries. Yet these were happy years to 
 both of them. Mrs. Barnard's only pride was in her 
 husband, and Barnard himself was one of those strong 
 men whose very strength is strengthened and ennobled by 
 a woman's influence. In their abundance of happiness 
 they did not feel their self-imposed privations, and as 
 their burden of debt grew gradually lighter, they were 
 gladdened by the prospect of release and ease. 
 
 Shortly after their marriage he began again to entertain 
 the thought of renewing his candidature for holy orders, 
 and entered into correspondence on that subject with the 
 saintly Dr. Cobbs, Bishop of Alabama. As Mrs. Barnard 
 was an enthusiast in the cause of temperance, it was 
 
106 MEMOIES OF 
 
 probably under her influence that he became, about the 
 same time, a devoted advocate of temperance reform ; and 
 the zeal and courage with which he threw himself into 
 that movement in a community in which the daily use of 
 alcoholic liquors was almost universal attracted to him 
 the interested attention of the people of the whole State, 
 made him the recognized leader of the temperance re- 
 formers, and commanded the respect even of those who 
 were most opposed to his views. 
 
 His first appearance in 1849 as an advocate of total 
 abstinence was made in a powerful defence of the new 
 order of the " Sons of Temperance," in which he main- 
 tained that " civilization discloses a remedy for the evils 
 it engenders"; and contended that the remedy for the 
 evil of intemperance is to be found in voluntary associa- 
 tions like the Sons of Temperance. The paper barriers 
 of legislation, he said, had been raised in vain against the 
 progress of the drink habit. 
 
 When a favorite vice has fairly made its citadel within the 
 public heart, it is idle to bombard it with legislative ordnance, 
 or to strive by mere brute force to expel it from its strong- 
 hold. It can be effectually assailed only by the mighty engine 
 of public opinion ; and in no way can public opinion be brought 
 to bear so energetically as through its visible embodiment in 
 great associations of individuals. 
 
 He repelled the objection that such organizations must 
 be content to appeal to the moral and social instincts, and 
 not directly to the sanctions of religion. 
 
 If we may not without sin strive to suppress a ruinous vice 
 by human means, neither may we without sin presume to 
 punish crime by laying upon the criminal the heavy hand of 
 the law. Governments should build no prisons, erect no 
 scaffolds, train no police. If it be said that God has com- 
 manded us to respect the governments under which we live, 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 107 
 
 that is simply to say that He has given His express sanction 
 to the principle we maintain; that is, the principle of the 
 rightfulness of employing human means to put down human 
 vice. On this point I speak boldly. I declare my deeply 
 seated and unalterable conviction that to set up religion in 
 opposition to the great temperance reform is to do evil to the 
 cause of religion. What is that religion which will not allow 
 men to be made better than they are, because they are not in a 
 moment transformed into saints ? What is that religion which 
 will not permit us to restore the half-crazed inebriate to his 
 senses, that we may bring him as a sane man into the sanctuary 
 of God and set him before the altar, clothed and in his right 
 mind? 
 
 To the large class of persons who approve of temperance 
 reform, but who decline to join the ranks of the pledged 
 reformers, on the ground that they have no need of 
 pledges to save or restrain themselves, he made an elo- 
 quent appeal. 
 
 No ! You have no need of us ! But we have need of you ! 
 Suffering humanity has need of you. The weeping wife has 
 need of you. The victim of starvation has need of you. The 
 shelterless infant, clinging to a mother's breast that is even 
 colder than itself, has need of you. In those loathsome hovels 
 which dot the face of our beloved country like so many plague- 
 spots, and in those more loathsome dens of vice and crime, 
 reeking with abomination in the purlieus of our great cities, 
 there are children with immortal souls fresh from the hand 
 of God, but destined, as it seems, to live a life of crime, and 
 to die, perhaps, a felon's death. Those children have need 
 of you ! How can you think of these things and then have 
 hearts to bid us God speed in a work in which you will not 
 join us but which we cannot do without you ? Whatever we 
 may accomplish, we never can exterminate this vice, so long 
 as there shall be a class of neutrals in the land. Neutrals ! 
 There can be no neutrals. Intemperance has no rampart of 
 defence so nearly impregnable as that which is thrown up 
 before it by the army of neutrals. If you would not fight for 
 
108 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the perpetuation of drunkenness, you must fight against it! 
 Think of this alternative from which there is no escape, and 
 then choose ye for yourselves. 
 
 During the political excitements which followed the 
 Mexican War, a deep-rooted determination to destroy the 
 Federal Union of the States was openly proclaimed by not 
 a few politicians in the South, and particularly in South 
 Carolina. Passionate efforts were made to inflame the 
 minds of the people with a resentment of wrongs which 
 were partly imaginary and partly due to other than 
 political causes. To deny the existence of such wrongs, 
 or to attribute them to any fault of the people of the 
 South, was bitterly denounced as evidence of disloyalty 
 to that section. The friends of the Union were dis- 
 couraged. The people of the town and county of Tuska- 
 loosa, who had always been resolute and devoted Unionists, 
 lost heart. It was during this condition of public senti- 
 ment that the anniversary of American independence 
 was celebrated in 1851. In the rejoicings of that day 
 all parties were equally enthusiastic and equally sincere, 
 and Professor Barnard, whose eloquence was universally 
 admired, was invited to deliver the usual oration. He 
 consented to perform that duty only on condition that 
 he should be at liberty to speak his whole mind on the 
 alleged grievances of the South and their supposed cause 
 in the Constitution of the Federal Union ; and that con- 
 dition having been frankly accepted, he prepared to make 
 the Fourth of July, 1851, the occasion of an enthusiastic 
 demonstration of loyalty to the Constitution and the 
 Union. That nothing might be lacking to rouse and 
 express the sentiment of the day, he wrote a patriotic 
 hymn to be sung at the close of his oration, to the tune of 
 "Bruce's Address"; and with some natural nervousness, 
 but with an unfaltering purpose to be guided by his sense 
 
FBEDEPwICK A. P. BARNAED 109 
 
 of public duty, he discussed the burning questions of the 
 time with a tact which disarmed antagonism, a candor 
 which conciliated attention, a boldness which commanded 
 respect, and a sincerity and depth of feeling which com- 
 pelled the sympathy of his auditors. 
 
 After rapidly sketching the growth, the greatness and the 
 marvellous prospects of the American Republic, he dwelt 
 upon the fact that its institutions were the hope as well 
 as the model of all men everywhere who dreamed of uni- 
 versal liberty for mankind, and intimated that to destroy 
 such hopes by wilfully wrecking the magnificent experi- 
 ment of the Union would be a crime against human 
 freedom. Proceeding directly to the main point of his 
 discourse, he showed that the alleged grievances of the 
 South were partly misconceptions and partly fictions; 
 and that, in their gravest aspect, they were the results of 
 a misdirection of industry at the South, not of Northern 
 aggression or of political inequality under the Constitu- 
 tion of the Union. He showed that a diversity of indus- 
 tries is the indispensable condition of national wealth, 
 which the people of the South had utterly neglected, 
 while the people of the North had fulfilled it to the 
 utmost. By presenting the elements of the question in 
 the form of an ingenious hypothetical illustration, he 
 showed that under any form of government this single 
 difference between the industries of the two sections must 
 inevitably have caused the economic inequalities of which 
 the South most bitterly complained. He insisted that 
 the remedy would be found, not in an abrogation of the 
 Constitution, nor in a disruption of the Union, but in an 
 intelligent and systematic effort to diversify the industries 
 of the Southern States by the introduction of manufactures 
 for the supply, at least, of their own wants. He proved 
 beyond dispute the vast profits which might be made by 
 
110 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the manufacture of cotton goods in Alabama. By a 
 simple statement of figures, he showed that they were 
 paying double prices for innumerable articles which they 
 might make at home. He described the New South which 
 might appear, that New South which has at last begun 
 to appear, if large-minded intelligence were applied to 
 the direction of Southern labor. He warned them that 
 the single industry of the South was a precarious de- 
 pendence, since some new invention might at any time 
 make some other textile fabric available for manufactures, 
 as the cotton-gin had first made cotton itself available. 
 Addressing himself to the advocates of disunion, he urged 
 that until the South should have within itself the elements 
 of industrial independence, separation from the Northern 
 States would have no other effect than to make them 
 equally dependent on some other power, and that if 
 separation must ever come, it could not be maintained 
 unless industrial independence had been first secured. He 
 ridiculed the notion that the South would be sustained by 
 foreign alliances, and particularly by that of England. 
 Its borders, which were now protected by the laws of the 
 Union, would be everywhere infested by the enemies of 
 its domestic institution. England, since she must have 
 cotton, would get it most easily and cheaply by an alliance 
 with the North, and while she grasped their cotton with 
 one hand, she would gladly use the other in the liberation 
 of their slaves. Such would be the consequences of a 
 disruption of the Union, for which no sufficient cause had 
 yet arisen a pandemonium of anarchy as the result of 
 ruining the hopes of liberty throughout the world ! 
 
 The effect of this address, which is given in a somewhat 
 condensed form in the following chapter, was magical. 
 The Union hymn which Barnard had composed was sung 
 with fervor, while tears and smiles testified the emotion 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 111 
 
 of the whole assembly. The friends of the Union were 
 encouraged. The more thoughtful advocates of disunion 
 sentiments were touched; and when the oration had been 
 published and circulated, its influence in overcoming 
 the spirit of disaffection was confessed on all hands to 
 be both extensive and profound. 
 
112 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 Oration delivered before the citizens of Tuskaloosa, Alabama, July 4, 1851. 
 
 FELLOW-CITIZENS : 
 
 We are assembled to celebrate the seventy-fifth return 
 of the birthday of American liberty. Three quarters of 
 a century ago, this day, the thirteen united colonies of 
 Great Britain on this continent declared themselves ab- 
 solved from all further allegiance to the British crown. 
 Seven years later, at the close of an exhausting war, they 
 found themselves reduced to the lowest extremity of 
 national distress. Private enterprise was paralyzed, and 
 a frightful depreciation had fallen upon all the evidences 
 of the public debt. The new States, still in the feebleness 
 of their infancy and miserably debilitated by years of wast- 
 ing warfare, lay scattered along a thousand miles of coast 
 and half enveloped in the original forest. Intercommuni- 
 cation was slow and difficult. There is not one of them 
 which is not virtually nearer to the European continent 
 at this day than it was then to its nearest neighbors. 
 Though nominally united by a compact for the common 
 defence, they found themselves unable to arrange any 
 common scheme for repairing their ruined credit or for 
 stimulating into new life their prostrate industries. A 
 few years of disheartening experience produced a univer- 
 sal conviction that something must be done to harmonize 
 their distracted counsels and give unity to their efforts 
 for the common weal. Out of this conviction sprang the 
 measures which resulted in the adoption of the present 
 Federal Constitution. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 113 
 
 It is no part of my purpose, to-day, to indulge in eulogy 
 of that noble instrument. We see what it has done for 
 a people whom it found at the lowest ebb of national 
 depression, and whom it has raised to the highest pitch of 
 national grandeur. The world never before witnessed a 
 progress so stupendous. Other nations have risen on the 
 ruins of their rivals. Their wealth has been steeped in 
 the tears of the plundered, and their glories have been 
 stained by the blood of the slain. Far different has been 
 the march of the American Republic. She, too, has made 
 her conquests, but it has been forests which have bowed, 
 mountain barriers which have been laid low, and rocky 
 fastnesses which have surrendered at her resistless ap- 
 proach. She has imposed her chains upon the elements, 
 and constrained the powers of nature to pay her tribute. 
 Her eagle sweeps uninterrupted from ocean to ocean, and 
 dips a wing in either wave. Admitted but yesterday into 
 the family of nations, she disputes with Britain the sover- 
 eignty of the seas, and divides with empires of a thousand 
 years the dominion of the land. These are no words of 
 idle boasting. I quote the following from the London 
 Athenceum : 
 
 The American census is not yet complete ; but the returns 
 already received point to conclusions far beyond hope or ex- 
 pectation. Look at New York, for instance. In 1820 it had 
 a population of 123,000; in 1830, 203,000; in 1840, 312,000. 
 This rate of increase was unparalleled in the history of statis- 
 tics. But the population is now said to have risen to the 
 astonishing number of 750,000 ! This includes the suburb of 
 Brooklyn, etc. There are but two larger cities in Europe ; in 
 ten years more, at the same rate of progress, it will be larger 
 than Paris. In thirty years from this date New York will, on 
 the same terms, be larger than London. 
 
 And it must be considered that the commercial capital of 
 America is not fed, like our Manchester and Liverpool, at the 
 i 
 
114 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 expense of the country ; its advance is the type of that of an 
 entire continent. In 1810 the population of St. Louis was 
 1600; in 1830, 6600; in 1840, 16,400; in 1850, it numbered 
 90,000! So far as the general nature of the returns can be 
 inferred from the data at hand, the population of the Union 
 will be about 25,000,000. From the year 1800, when the num- 
 ber was a little more than 5,000,000, to 1840, when it had 
 advanced to 17,000,000, the decimal rate of increase was about 
 33 per cent. This rate would have given for 1850 a population 
 of 22,000,000 only. 
 
 Material power has been developed equally with population. 
 Great Britain alone excepted, no state in Europe could now 
 maintain equal armaments in the field for any length of time. 
 This marvellous growth is deranging all the old tradition of 
 " balances of power." America is not only a first-class state 
 in a few years, if no internal disorder shall occur, she will be 
 the greatest of all. Should the 1840-50 rate of increase be 
 maintained for fifty years, the population will then amount to 
 more than 100,000,000 ! German wars and French revolutions 
 sink into complete insignificance by the side of considerations like 
 these. 
 
 With such a comment, how well we may understand the 
 " roars of laughter " with which the American Senate recently 
 received the menaces of Austria! When the United States 
 shook off the yoke of England, their people numbered no more 
 than 3,000,000 ; when they were last measured against a Euro- 
 pean power they were not more than 8,000,000. Ten years 
 hence they will be equal to France or Austria. There hardly 
 seems to be a limit to their growth. The valley of the Mis- 
 sissippi would alone support the whole population of Europe. 
 In its vast basin, nations are now growing up as if at the bid- 
 ding of enchantment. 
 
 These are the words of an intelligent European. One 
 sentence of the passage deserves to be deeply pondered by 
 every friend of civil and political liberty. "America," 
 says the writer, " is not only a first-class state in a few 
 years, if no internal disorder occurs, she will be the 
 greatest of all." Is not this a thing to be desired? 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 115 
 
 America stands before the world to-day, the sole champion 
 of those principles of popular government on the preva- 
 lence of which depends the redemption of a world from 
 political bondage. To her welcoming arms are now flee- 
 ing, year after year, thousands and tens of thousands of the 
 down-trodden victims of European tyranny. The bruised 
 spirits who remain yield for the time to a despotism from 
 which there is no immediate deliverance; and when they 
 bend the knee to heaven, their prayers ascend to God for 
 blessings on the starry banner of the West, at the rustling 
 of whose folds their masters tremble in their palaces. 
 
 The smothered fire which now burns beneath the sur- 
 face of society in Europe has been kindled at the torch of 
 American liberty. The hopes of those who feed it are 
 kept alive by the example of American success. Let the 
 hallowed light expire, and these cherished hopes will be 
 swallowed up in the blackness of despair. 
 
 But this is not all. When America shall have become 
 the leading power of the earth, when her sons shall num- 
 ber one hundred millions of freemen and the population of 
 her Mississippi valley alone shall outnumber half a dozen 
 European monarchies, she will be not merely the example 
 and the encouragement, but the powerful protector of the 
 wretched and oppressed. She will no longer permit her- 
 self to be a passive spectator of events that affect the 
 happiness of the human race. She will not patiently see 
 a new-born republic stifled in its infancy, as recently in 
 Rome, because it is an eyesore to kings; nor a gallant 
 people ground into the dust, as recently in Hungary, be- 
 cause they dare to vindicate their immemorial rights. She 
 may not undertake a Quixotic crusade of political propa- 
 gandism; but surely, surely, she will no more suffer vener- 
 able age to be brutally massacred, nor defenceless beauty 
 to be stripped and lashed by the Haynaus of another cen- 
 
116 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 tury. She will permit no monarchical reactions to be 
 enforced at the point of the bayonet; she will not permit 
 tyrants, at Warsaw, or at Dresden, or at Olnrntz, to com- 
 bine to hold a continent in chains. Every foot of terri- 
 tory, fairly redeemed from despotism by the bravery of 
 its inhabitants, shall, in the shadow of her powerful 
 protection, be sacred to liberty forever. 
 
 Yet there are not wanting among us men who would 
 arrest this majestic Republic in the fulfilment of its sub- 
 lime mission ; who would shatter it into fragments, and 
 give it over to anarchy, confusion, and ruin. There are 
 not wanting men so false to humanity and to heaven that 
 they would draw down upon this smiling land the hor- 
 rors of civil war, and fight, in effect, the battles of tyranny 
 upon a soil consecrated to freedom. At both extremities 
 of the Union we hear the Constitution, under whose 
 benignant influences a nation has been born in a day, 
 made a continual subject of reviling. On the one hand 
 it is denounced as a compact with hell ; on the other it is 
 stigmatized as an engine of tyranny, unworthy to be the 
 charter of a free people. So accustomed have we become 
 to language like this, that it has ceased to attract our 
 attention. It is deliberately proposed that we should 
 tear down the temple of liberty which shelters us and 
 bury ourselves beneath its ruins, and the public listens 
 with composure. It is even possible for an American 
 citizen publicly to urge a desecration of this very Sab- 
 bath of liberty, to entrap little children into a public and 
 solemn league of sworn traitors to the Government which 
 protects their infancy. From the Charleston Mercury of 
 June llth I quote the following suggestion of a corre- 
 spondent : " That the coming anniversary of the Declara- 
 tion of Independence should be made use of by our young 
 friends (boys from the age of nine years and upwards) 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 117 
 
 to form Southern Rights Associations; and to swear upon 
 the altar of their country (I mean the South only) their 
 devoted, eternal, and never-dying hatred to our infa- 
 mously aggressive, oppressive, and fanatical Government." 
 A more fiendish proposition never emanated from the 
 bottomless pit. 
 
 And now, to what is all this deep-seated bitterness 
 owing ? I need not be told what is the immediate cause 
 of its present manifestations. I have no need to hear 
 again the story of the repeated and frequent intermeddling 
 with affairs of strictly domestic interest, in which the 
 North has been the assailant and the South the sufferer. 
 That hostility and even rancor should have sprung up 
 among us toward the people of the North, on this account, 
 is not surprising. But these aggressions and threats of 
 aggression have proceeded mainly from private individ- 
 uals, or voluntary associations, actuated by a spirit of 
 fanaticism ; they are clothed with no political character 
 whatever. The efforts made to introduce this species 
 of agitation into politics have been rewarded by no sub- 
 stantial success. On the other hand, in a fair trial of 
 strength, during the last Congress, political abolitionism 
 has been substantially defeated, and State after State 
 has withdrawn the legislation which has justly given 
 offence to the South. At this very moment the entire 
 energies of the Federal Government are put in action to 
 secure the faithful execution of the law which has been 
 regarded as a test of its sincerity of purpose, and the 
 local authorities, wherever called upon, as recently in 
 Boston, have earnestly cooperated to the same end. 
 Whatever bitterness of feeling individual or associated 
 agitation or resistance at the North may have been cal- 
 culated to awaken in the South, there is nothing to justify 
 denunciations of the organic law of the land. If we have 
 
118 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 been injured, it has not been the Federal Constitution 
 which has injured us ; if we have suffered wrong, the 
 wrong has not come from the Federal Government. 
 There are causes much deeper than this for the war 
 which has been waged against the Union causes which 
 are so misunderstood in their origin, that the remedy 
 proposed for their removal would only perpetuate their 
 effects. 
 
 The soreness of feeling produced in the Southern mind 
 by the infringement of undeniable rights and the interfer- 
 ence with strictly private affairs has been seized upon by 
 agitators as the most available means of accomplishing 
 their designs. It has been affirmed and reaffirmed that 
 organized associations for preying upon Southern prop- 
 erty have annually stolen thousands of your most efficient 
 laborers. The enormous sums thus yearly subtracted 
 from Southern wealth have been paraded in staring capi- 
 tals. One hundred thousand fugitives in the free States 
 at this moment is the smallest estimate of the experimen- 
 ters on your credulity and these have been assumed to 
 represent a total of $50,000,000. Now what says the 
 census of 1850? There are not two hundred thousand 
 free negroes in all the free States put together, and for 
 twenty years this population has been nearly stationary. 
 Since 1840 its increase, with all the imaginary fugitives 
 added, has been only about eight per cent, while the natu- 
 ral increase of the colored race held as your property has 
 been more than twenty-two per cent. These simple 
 statistics show how absolute a piece of manufacture the 
 statements of agitators have been ; and to all efforts to 
 produce alarm in the South, may be opposed the dispas- 
 sionate judgment of the sagacious and prudent statesman 
 who has represented your sovereignty in the national 
 councils ever since Alabama became a State, that " there 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 119 
 
 is less danger of encroachments upon Southern rights 
 (now) than at any time for the last twenty years." 
 
 What then is the true secret of this revolutionary mad- 
 ness ? Public men in a not very distant State have not 
 scrupled to avow that they have been laboring for twenty- 
 five years past for the dissolution of the Union. Yet, 
 according to those very men, the encroachments upon 
 your rights which they indignantly denounce and adjure 
 you to resist date back no farther than the year 1835. 
 Twenty years ago, then, the war on your institutions had 
 not yet opened ; but something had happened twenty 
 years ago which you would do well to remember. 
 
 The tariff act of 1828 had hardly gone into operation 
 before an agitation on the subject was begun, in South 
 Carolina and elsewhere, and was carried on by the aid of 
 all the machinery which politicians so well know how to 
 employ. In September, 1830, a State Rights Convention 
 was assembled in Columbia, and ended, as usual, with an 
 inflammatory address to the people. These local evi- 
 dences of dissatisfaction produced but slight impression 
 on the country, and none whatever upon its general pol- 
 icy ; for, on the 14th day of July, 1832, President Jack- 
 son affixed his signature to a new tariff act, retaining 
 every stringent and offensive feature of the former, 
 which had been known, in the vocabulary of nullification, 
 as the bill of abominations. 
 
 On the 25th of October, in the same year, the Legisla- 
 ture of South Carolina called a convention of the people, 
 to assemble at Columbia in the following month, for the 
 purpose of taking into consideration the obnoxious laws 
 of the Federal Government, and of devising means of 
 redress. On the 19th of November this convention pro- 
 ceeded to pass an ordinance, declaring the acts of 1828 
 and 1832 to be null and void within the State of South 
 
120 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 Carolina and naming the first of February, 1833, as the 
 day on which the ordinance should take effect. On the 
 10th of December General Jackson issued his famous 
 proclamation, declaring his intention to execute the laws 
 of Congress at every hazard, and solemnly warning the 
 people of South Carolina of the inevitable consequences 
 of resistance. On the first of March the great pacifica- 
 tor, Henry Clay, had the satisfaction of seeing his tariff 
 compromise become the law of the land ; and on the 
 same day the bill to provide for the more effectual execu- 
 tion of the revenue laws, commonly called the force-bill, 
 passed the House of Representatives. On the llth of 
 the same month the State convention of South Carolina 
 reassembled. Though the law of Mr. Clay provided for 
 a very slow and gradual removal of the burdens com- 
 plained of, and held out the certain prospect of nine 
 years more of endurance, yet this body, finding itself 
 uncheered by a whisper of aid or comfort from without, 
 was constrained to repeal the ordinance of nullification. 
 As a salvo to the wounded pride of the State, it, at the 
 same time, solemnly nullified the force-bill ; a proceeding 
 which, considering that obstruction to the execution of the 
 laws was no longer contemplated, was trivial and nugatory. 
 In this unfortunate and fruitless struggle between a 
 self-willed State and the Government of the Union first 
 originated that fixed and settled purpose to overthrow 
 the Constitution, which has been so long secretly cher- 
 ished, and is now openly avowed. The original cause of 
 disaffection has been almost forgotten in hatred of a Gov- 
 ernment whose fundamental principle is that a minority 
 shall not rule. And now what was this cause ? It is to 
 be sought, not in any dissatisfaction with the generally 
 beneficial results which the Constitution has wrought out 
 for the Union as a whole, but rather in a conviction that 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 121 
 
 its benefits have been unequally distributed. Such a 
 conviction is at this moment entertained by many who do 
 not regard disunion as a remedy. Indeed, the impression 
 seems extensively to exist, that, by the operation of the 
 Federal Constitution, and through Federal legislation, 
 the South has been made, in some sort, tributary to the 
 North. This feeling cannot be better expressed than in 
 the following extract from an article which appeared in 
 an Alabama newspaper about two years ago: 
 
 At present, the North fattens and grows rich upon the South. 
 We depend upon it for our entire supplies. We purchase all 
 our luxuries and necessaries from the North. . . . 
 
 With us, every branch and pursuit in life, every trade, 
 profession, and occupation, is dependent upon the North; for 
 instance, the Northerners abuse and denounce slavery and 
 slaveholders, yet our slaves are clothed with Northern manu- 
 factured goods, have Northern hats and shoes, work with 
 Northern hoes, ploughs, and other implements, are chastised 
 with a Northern-made instrument, are working for Northern 
 more than Southern profit. The slaveholder dresses in North- 
 ern goods, rides a Northern saddle with all the other accoutre- 
 ments, sports his Northern carriage, patronizes Northern 
 newspapers, drinks Northern liquors, reads Northern books, 
 spends his money at Northern watering-places, crowds North- 
 ern fashionable resorts; in short, his person, his slaves, his 
 farm, his necessaries, his luxuries as he walks, rides, sleeps, 
 loafs, lounges, or works he is surrounded with articles of 
 Northern origin. The aggressive acts upon his rights and his 
 property arouse his resentment and on Northern-made paper, 
 with a Northern pen, with Northern ink, he resolves and re- 
 resolves in regard to his rights ! In Northern vessels his prod- 
 ucts are carried to market, his cotton is ginned with Northern 
 gins, his sugar is crushed and preserved by Northern ma- 
 chinery ; his rivers are navigated by Northern steamboats, his 
 mails are carried in Northern stages, his negroes are fed with 
 Northern bacon, beef, flour, and corn ; his land is cleared with 
 a Northern axe, and a Yankee clock sits upon his mantel-piece j 
 
122 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 his floor is swept by a Northern broom and is covered with a 
 Northern carpet, and his wife dresses herself before a North- 
 ern looking-glass; his child cries for a Northern toy, crows 
 over a Northern shoe, and is perfectly happy in having a 
 Northern knife ; his son is educated at a Northern college, his 
 daughter receives the finishing polish at a Northern seminary ; 
 his doctor graduates at a Northern medical college, his schools 
 are supplied with Northern teachers, and he is furnished with 
 Northern inventions and notions. 
 
 Might it not just possibly occur to thinking minds that 
 all these complaints may be well founded, and yet that 
 their causes may not in the slightest degree be attribut- 
 able to the American Constitution ? Might it not also 
 occur to them that if the evils complained of have not 
 their origin in the Constitution, a disruption of the Union 
 would bring no remedy ? Is it not worth while to con- 
 sider whether the elements of human happiness are not 
 as fully within our own reach as that of our Northern 
 brethren, and that, if we do not use them within the 
 Union, there is just as little reason for believing that we 
 should do so out of it ? 
 
 Let us inquire what there is in our circumstances to 
 prevent the South from becoming as great, as good, and 
 in all respects as happy a people as the world ever saw. 
 
 Numerous elements contribute to the sum of human 
 happiness. Highest among these we should properly 
 place intelligence, intellectual cultivation, virtuous prin- 
 ciple, practical morality, religious freedom, and personal 
 and political liberty. No one will complain that the 
 Constitution affects us unequally in regard to any of 
 these things. But happiness further presumes immunity 
 from want, and the possession of such comforts and luxu- 
 ries of life as secure freedom from physical suffering and 
 a reasonable amount of positive physical enjoyment ; and 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 123 
 
 the aggregate of such possessions in the hands of the 
 people constitutes national wealth. If, then, the Con- 
 stitution of the Union affects us unfavorably in any 
 point essential to national happiness, it must be in our 
 pecuniary interests; and indeed the burden of all com- 
 plaints is precisely this that by our union with the 
 North we are impoverished while she is enriched. That 
 these propositions are true in one sense is undeniable. 
 What I propose to prove is, that the connection between 
 the North and the South which has brought about this 
 result is not the political union; that the downfall of 
 the Constitution could bring no remedy for the evils 
 of which we complain ; and that the causes of our com- 
 paratively deficient prosperity are wholly unconnected 
 with legislation, are within our own control, and are 
 removable at our own pleasure. 
 
 To a certain extent, the possession of wealth is essential 
 to the security of other and higher elements of national 
 happiness. It is essential to progress in civilization, in 
 refinement, in knowledge, in scientific discovery, in every 
 useful and ornamental art. It is essential to the exclu- 
 sive devotion of the labor of some at least in a community 
 to other pursuits beyond that of procuring the means 
 of sustaining life. And in proportion as the labor of 
 a larger number becomes available for such pursuits, in 
 the same proportion will the arts receive their develop- 
 ment, and the comforts and elegances of social life be 
 multiplied. 
 
 It is not, therefore, without reason that nations strive 
 for the increase of the general wealth. That which in 
 an individual would be covetousness or avarice, in com- 
 munities is a laudable ambition to secure the means of 
 promoting the highest interests of man as a rational and 
 a moral being. 
 
124 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 But wealth is not of spontaneous growth. It is the 
 offspring of never-ceasing industry. Wealth, when pro- 
 duced, has no principle of permanence. Our possessions 
 waste before our eyes. Ten years hence we may be 
 richer than to-day ; but our wealth of to-day will in 
 great part have perished to give place to other posses- 
 sions as ephemeral as these. The permanence or fluctua- 
 tion of a nation's wealth is, therefore, but a visible index 
 of the degree of steadiness in its industry, and of the 
 skill and judgment with which its labor is applied. 
 
 This last suggestion brings me to the point which I 
 have been preparing to approach. In order to be wealthy, 
 it is not enough that a people should be industrious 
 it is necessary that judgment should select the channels 
 into which its labor is turned, and that skill should pre- 
 side over its immediate application. 
 
 The wants of civilized man are spread over a very wide 
 field. The channels of labor have been multiplied almost 
 to infinity. Some of these demand chiefly an exercise 
 of strength ; others require less strength, but proportion- 
 ately greater skill ; and there are others still, in which 
 skill alone is necessary, but skill of the highest order. 
 Considered as means of producing wealth, these vari- 
 ous kinds of labor are very unequally valuable. As a 
 general rule, those which require the greatest exertion of 
 physical strength are the least productive ; and those in 
 which the element of skill predominates are the most so. 
 The visible wealth of a people will, therefore, depend 
 as much on the direction given to its industry, as on the 
 amount of labor employed ; and in every community an 
 enlightened economy will seek to introduce and encour- 
 age those branches of industry which secure the highest 
 rewards. 
 
 For the lowest and the least productive sorts of labor 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 125 
 
 there will always be a demand, and usually an abundant 
 supply ; but the capacities of individuals are various, and 
 it is a perversion of the gifts of nature to waste capacities 
 of a superior order on tasks to which all are alike equal. 
 The mere drudgery which society requires may be sup- 
 plied by a moderate proportion of its members. Beyond 
 this, there is room for immense improvement in wealth 
 by the judicious direction of the disposable labor which 
 remains. To misdirect it is to waste a valuable means of 
 wealth ; to leave it wholly unemployed, as is, to a lament- 
 able extent, the case with us, is to convert producers into 
 mere consumers of wealth. 
 
 Imagine two nations, equally favored by nature, equal 
 in numbers, and equal in extent of territory. Suppose 
 free communication to exist between them ; but let both 
 be cut off from commerce with other peoples. Suppose 
 the arts in both to be in their infancy ; and both to be 
 occupied at first mainly with the pursuits necessary to 
 supply the physical wants of their people. The industry 
 of both will, for the most part, be expended upon the 
 cultivation of the earth. Their earliest garments, dwell- 
 ings, and implements of husbandry will be rude. Now in 
 one of these communities let the spirit of invention be 
 awakened. Let superior tools and new devices be con- 
 trived for the promotion of human comfort in short, 
 let the arts spring into birth. Their neighbors, still 
 slumbering in intellectual torpor, will soon be roused 
 by observing their improved condition. They will desire 
 the same advantages, and two methods for the attain- 
 ment of that end will suggest themselves. The first 
 and simplest is to purchase the products of the newly 
 developed industry; the second, to transplant to their 
 own soil the arts by which they were produced. Suppose 
 them, from indolence or any other cause, to prefer the 
 
126 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 former ; then, in order to purchase, they must offer an 
 equivalent; and their own products being wholly agri- 
 cultural, they have nothing else to offer in exchange. 
 These they may raise in greater quantity than their 
 own necessities require ; and they may exchange their 
 surplus for the better tools, fabrics, and articles of com- 
 fort or luxury manufactured by their more progressive 
 neighbors. 
 
 What will be the effect upon these last? The opening 
 of a market for their productions will call into activity a 
 larger amount of labor of the higher order, and will stim- 
 ulate them to advance to higher degrees of skill. With 
 every step of progress new additions will be made to the 
 means of human happiness. It will presently appear that 
 the labor of one artisan is twice or thrice as valuable 
 as that of an agriculturist ; and, consequently, that the 
 wealth of the progressive people has become double or 
 triple of what it was at first. On the other hand, with 
 the multiplication of objects of use and ornament, the 
 people who have hitherto remained exclusively agricult- 
 ural will find their wants increasing, while their means 
 remain stationary. Nor will they even enjoy a monopoly 
 in producing the only articles which they can employ in 
 their exchanges. For the manufacturing nation has still 
 its soil, and still an adequate supply of that humbler kind 
 of labor which, under intelligent direction, suffices to cause 
 the earth to yield her increase. Indeed, the existence of 
 any demand for agricultural products from abroad, which 
 the native soil is capable of yielding, will arise in great 
 measure from the fact that, with increasing prosperity, 
 a community becomes proportionally lavish in the con- 
 sumption of the good things of this life. 
 
 For the non-manufacturing people to attempt to rival 
 the prosperity of its manufacturing neighbor by increas- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 127 
 
 ing its agricultural production, would evidently be useless; 
 for increased production would depress prices without 
 removing the cause of inequality. Here, then, we should 
 see, between two nations commencing under circumstances 
 equally favorable, and unaffected by legislation of any 
 kind whatever, the widest contrast in point of prosperity. 
 One of them would be in the easy enjoyment of every 
 thing which art has invented for the promotion of human 
 happiness, and rapidly multiplying new comforts and new 
 luxuries. Intellectual development would be advancing 
 hand in hand with physical improvement, and the measure 
 of the progress of both would be seen in the rapid increase 
 of national wealth. The other community would have 
 remained stationary; or rather, its wants having outgrown 
 its means, it would have become virtually poorer by merely 
 standing still. 
 
 These consequences, I cannot too often repeat, are so 
 wholly independent of constitutions and laws, of forms 
 of government and their administration, that they would 
 occur if we were to suppose our two communities, instead 
 of being nations distinctly separated, to be two villages 
 side by side. I am far from denying that legislation may 
 interfere with the natural and free course of trade I 
 am simply asserting that, in the absence of legislation, 
 or under legislation precisely similar, the chief element 
 of prosperity in all communities is the intelligent direc- 
 tion of labor ; and that element the people of every com- 
 munity have mainly in their own hands. 
 
 There is one condition which may exempt an exclu- 
 sively agricultural community from the ruinous opera- 
 tion of this general law. It is, that it possess a climate 
 and soil capable of yielding, on a large scale, some prod- 
 uct which is indispensable to its manufacturing neighbors, 
 but which they can neither produce themselves nor obtain 
 
128 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 in sufficient abundance elsewhere. With such a climate 
 and such a soil, a strictly agricultural people may be 
 rich, though they should so heedlessly disregard the econ- 
 omy of labor as to purchase a thousand miles from home 
 the simplest instruments with which they stir the ground, 
 and in spite of their careless neglect of the more exhaust- 
 less resources which God has given them in their own 
 strong but idle right arms, and their naturally acute but 
 slumbering ingenuity. 
 
 But the peculiar product of the soil, in the case sup- 
 posed, would have no value were it not capable in the 
 hands of labor of assuming a higher value still. This 
 value the producer sees imparted to it by men in a dis- 
 tant land, who have no other occupation, and who, there- 
 fore, seem to him to be living in dependence on him. He 
 compares the wealth which the raw material has left in 
 his hands, with that which has been wrung from it in the 
 process of manufacture, and he almost feels as if he had 
 suffered wrong. But that is not all; he perceives that in 
 the processes of transportation and exchange, the merest 
 contact with his product enriches, and that no small por- 
 tion of wealth clings to hands that simply handle it. 
 In view of all this, when he is obliged to apply to the 
 men to whose prosperity he has already supplied the life's 
 blood, for every article of necessity or use or luxury 
 which he might have provided for himself, but did not, 
 and finds the accumulations of one year melting away in 
 provision for another, and all this to the profit of those 
 who have done nothing but profit by him from beginning 
 to end it is not surprising that he should be annoyed 
 at a state of things in which all the advantages appear to 
 him to be on one side, and that side not his own. 
 
 In the imaginary picture which I have thus drawn, it 
 seems to me that I have truly described the situation of 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 129 
 
 the cotton-producing States of the Union at this moment. 
 But if the principles which I have laid down be correct, 
 it is utterly visionary to seek a remedy for the evil in 
 an interruption of the relations of business between the 
 North and the South. By such an interruption the 
 North might be seriously injured, but the South would 
 have nothing to gain. If she still pursues her policy of 
 producing cotton only and of leaving others to manu- 
 facture it, of indulging freely in the luxuries of life and 
 leaving others to prepare them nay, more, of holding 
 out only discouragement to the intelligent labor of white 
 men upon her own soil, while she purchases her pins and 
 needles, her screws and gimlets, her knives and hammers, 
 her broomsticks and hoe-handles, her lucifer matches and 
 her baby-jumpers from abroad I see not, for my part, 
 what it can matter to her whether all these "notions," 
 which she ought to be ashamed to buy at all, are manu- 
 factured for her use in the land of the Yankees or in the 
 workshops of John Bull. One point of difference only is 
 perceptible, and that is in favor of the existing arrange- 
 ment we obtain them at present free of duty. 
 
 This habit, in which the South has so long lived, of 
 resorting to workshops at a distance for almost every 
 conceivable article of manufacture, has made us, with 
 all our wealth, a dependent people. To a sensitive mind 
 nothing is more annoying than a feeling of dependence ; 
 and to this fact I feel that I am justified in ascribing 
 no small portion of the dissatisfaction which has grown 
 out of the state of our relations with the North. The 
 offensiveness of those protective enactments of which I 
 have spoken consisted not so much in their directly 
 oppressive effect on the South, as in the stimulus they 
 were calculated to give to Northern prosperity. It was 
 felt or feared that they would increase a dependence on 
 
130 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 our part already too grievous to be borne. From this 
 condition of things our people have become impatient to 
 be free. It is this, more than any other existing evil, 
 which has caused the word disunion to be of late so often 
 and so lightly spoken among us, and the thought of what 
 it signifies to be contemplated with so little horror. 
 
 But unless I am entirely wrong in all my premises, 
 disunion would bring with it but a transfer of our de- 
 pendence. The wealth with which we now enrich our 
 Northern brethren would be poured into the coffers of 
 a foreign people. Other ships would carry our cotton, 
 other brokers would speculate upon it, other merchants 
 would send back to us the manufactured fabric for our 
 consumption. Northern hammers, Northern axes, North- 
 ern kettles, and Northern broomsticks would only give 
 place to similar articles from foreign sources, which 
 would be liable to duty. Disunion, fellow-citizens, may 
 bring with it many advantages which I am unable to 
 discover ; but disunion, believe me, is not the road to 
 independence. The pictures of prosperity and greatness 
 with which its instigators amuse you are baseless as 
 the wildest visions shaped by a delirious imagination in a 
 fevered brain. 
 
 By what means, then, shall we be independent ? By 
 adopting the only course that could have made us so by 
 ceasing to buy of others every article essential to human 
 comfort, and by learning at last to make something for 
 ourselves. 
 
 I am aware that there are great difficulties in the way 
 of so radical a change. We have at our disposal an im- 
 mense amount of involuntary labor. Could that, or any 
 considerable part of it, be turned with facility from agri- 
 culture to manufactures, the problem would admit of 
 an easy solution. We have also a considerable amount 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 131 
 
 of white labor, engaged also in the cultivation of the 
 ground ; but it is destitute of capital, deficient in intelli- 
 gence, bound down in a struggle for a difficult subsist- 
 ence to an unvarying routine, entirely undirected, and 
 incapable of self-direction. 
 
 If there is to be a change in the economical distribution 
 of labor among us, the initiative must be taken by citi- 
 zens who are able to be employers. Such citizens have 
 hitherto held themselves personally above labor at least 
 the labor of the hands. Whether this feeling has not 
 been carried too far, admits of more than a question. 
 Whether the true dignity of labor has not been under- 
 valued, is worthy of our serious consideration. Our 
 domestic institutions have powerfully contributed to keep 
 the feeling alive. Wherever involuntary labor exists on 
 a large scale, idleness is too apt to be confounded with 
 respectability ; and by the admission and recognition of 
 a false social standard, persons who engage in the most 
 productive descriptions of industry the most produc- 
 tive because demanding the highest exercise of skill 
 are socially ostracized in deference to a class of men 
 who, while idle themselves, complain that they are not 
 prosperous. 
 
 There is nothing to prevent the successful introduction 
 among us of every useful art. There are many things 
 in our situation which give us great natural advantages 
 over those to whom we are now accustomed to look for 
 our supplies. The British prints and muslins in the 
 shops of Tuskaloosa have, in one form or another, made 
 a journey equal to a third part of the circumference of 
 the globe. They have paid the expense of freights, com- 
 missions, insurances, and custom-house duties, and have 
 come to us burdened with all these additions to their 
 intrinsic value. Had the cotton grown in England, they 
 
132 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 would have been taxed in but one direction. Had the 
 British cotton-mill been built in Alabama, the whole 
 chain of impositions would have no existence. 
 
 Now I do not wish to make any comment upon what 
 any cotton-mill in Alabama has yet done ; but I do wish 
 to call your attention to what a British mill transplanted 
 here would be capable of doing ; and in any statements 
 which I may introduce, I wish you to understand that 
 I put forth no vague and uncertain conjectures hazarded 
 by myself. I give you the results of the experience of 
 men who have been for many years engaged in forward- 
 ing your cotton to market and in bringing to your doors 
 the products of Northern and foreign industry. Let, 
 then, such a mill, constructed on the bold and liberal 
 scale which distinguishes the British factories, be set 
 down on the banks of the Warrior, and furnished with 
 the raw material at its own doors. In the first place, 
 it could purchase its cotton at a cost permanently four 
 cents per pound cheaper than at present, and it would 
 be able to turn out its fabrics at a corresponding reduc- 
 tion below the contemporaneous prices in Manchester. 
 Secondly, these fabrics would be here, instead of being 
 four thousand miles away, and we should receive them 
 free of any charge for freights, insurance, custom-house 
 duties, or importers' profits. All these things, freight 
 excepted, impose a burden, under our present revenue 
 tariff, upon imported cottons laid down in the city of 
 New York, of no less than 45 per cent upon the prime 
 cost. Our indirect mode of trading forces us to add to 
 this the New York importer's profit of 121 p er cen t, and 
 the further expense of sending them out here, 10 per cent 
 more amounting in all to hardly less than 80 per cent 
 upon the New York imported cottons now on the shelves 
 of your merchants in Tuskaloosa. Supposing the direct 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 133 
 
 trade substituted, however, there would still be no escape 
 from a permanent tax of nearly 50 per cent upon all your 
 importations of manufactured cottons a tax to be super- 
 added to that which arises from the increased expense of 
 the raw material. If the cost of running the mill would 
 be greater here, the difference would not be sufficient 
 materially to affect the general result, as is proved by 
 the successful competition of the coarser New England 
 muslins with those of Manchester in the London market, 
 while the current expenses of manufacturing would be no 
 greater here than in New England. 
 
 The amount of British cottons, therefore, which our 
 merchants now receive for every hundred dollars ex- 
 pended through New York, could be furnished by a 
 British mill, under British direction, on the banks of 
 the Warrior, for fifty-five dollars ; while the mill-owner 
 would pocket a handsome profit by the operation. 
 
 Let us look into the effect of our policy upon some 
 other of our important interests : 
 
 Our importations of woollens, if made direct, are taxed 
 to the extent of 55 per cent ; if introduced through the 
 North, to no less than 92 per cent. Our Sheffield cutlery 
 pays 55 per cent, as directly imported ; and indirectly 
 that is, as usually at present 92. Our hardware from 
 Birmingham pays 75 per cent up to New York, and 117 
 here. Our crockery hollow ware is subject to the enor- 
 mous burden of 130 per cent in New York, and 200 to 
 300 in Tuskaloosa. The superior article called granite 
 is taxed 100 per cent to the Northern importer, and 150 
 or upward to our own merchants. Common plates, and 
 common cups and saucers, pay 125 per cent in New York, 
 and more than 200 here. Such are a few of the burdens 
 to which the whole South placidly and contentedly sub- 
 mits, under a tariff constructed strictly with a view to 
 
134 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 revenue. Who would believe that a people which sits 
 down calm as a summer's morning under a system of 
 taxation so utterly ruinous and so absolutely self-im- 
 posed, could be roused to fury by the addition of 10 or 
 20 per cent duty to the revenue standard, when that 
 very addition is designed to break up this most per- 
 nicious system of national improvidence, by which our 
 wealth is swallowed up as fast as it is made? 
 
 But to return to our hypothetical cotton-mill. If Brit- 
 ish enterprise could produce the results which I have 
 stated, why may not we go and do likewise ? I antici- 
 pate the answer. We have not the experience, nor the 
 skill, nor the tact to adapt our fabrics to the condition of 
 the market. I reply that the answer is a good one so 
 far as it goes, and would be decisive but for a single over- 
 sight. We have not at present the necessary experience 
 and skill ; that is admitted. What then ? We must not 
 only erect the mills and purchase the machinery, but we 
 must bring the men who are to manage them. This is 
 the absolute and only condition of success. Our splendid 
 rivers are navigated by hundreds of steamers, but it was 
 not always so; and when steam navigation was introduced 
 no man dreamed of putting engines of such enormous 
 power into the hands of men who were unacquainted with 
 their construction and unpractised in their management. 
 The necessity of importing, along with the new power, 
 heads and hands which should be competent to govern it, 
 was palpable to all. The application is obvious. If we 
 would build up any art among us, we must bring here not 
 merely the necessary machines, but also the practised skill 
 which can turn them to account. 
 
 I do not mean that our master workmen and superin- 
 tendents must always be aliens to our soil. By no means. 
 When any industry shall have obtained a sure footing 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 135 
 
 among us, hundreds of native artisans will spring up 
 to carry it on. Our first establishments will be nor- 
 mal schools of industry ; but we shall need no foreign 
 guidance when we have learned to go alone. It is no dis- 
 credit to us that we are deficient in knowledge ; but if 
 we refuse to learn, we shall be highly censurable. Let us 
 act upon this principle, let us endeavor to diversify the 
 applications of our industry, and we shall soon attain a 
 real and substantial independence, which nothing in Fed- 
 eral legislation can undermine. 
 
 Other incidental but important advantages would flow 
 from the adoption of this policy. Where there is now 
 a sparsely scattered population, we should presently see 
 thriving towns and villages multiplying everywhere the 
 blessings of social life. Better schools and more of them 
 would be near the door of almost every family. Feeble 
 churches would grow strong. The courtesies of life 
 would be more generally regarded, manners would be 
 softened, and tastes would be cultivated to a higher de- 
 gree. Associations for intellectual improvement would 
 become possible. Libraries, reading-rooms, forensic clubs, 
 lecture halls, arid all the various means by which a busy 
 population is able to mingle instruction with entertain- 
 ment, would come into existence in a thousand places. 
 Our people would thus be not only richer, but more pol- 
 ished, more enlightened, and better, at the same time. 
 
 Moreover, our population would go on increasing in 
 numbers in a higher ratio than heretofore. The tide of 
 immigration from abroad has hitherto flowed almost ex- 
 clusively over the States of the North, and the cotton- 
 growing States have had no inducements to attract it. 
 Southern agriculture is ill adapted to European hands 
 and what occupation but agriculture has the South had to 
 offer ? Let the arts lift up their heads among us, and all 
 
136 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 this will be changed. We shall attract at least our share 
 of that great influx from abroad ; and we shall assimilate 
 to ourselves, and convert into defenders, thousands and 
 tens of thousands of those who would else fall naturally 
 into the ranks of our assailants. 
 
 I cannot close without suggesting one additional con- 
 sideration. The South is rich, because the single product 
 of her industry is in increasing demand. But her riches 
 have no firmer basis than the permanence of the demand 
 which creates them. Let cotton give place, even par- 
 tially, to other materials of textile fabrics, and a death- 
 blow will be given to the cotton-growing industry of 
 America. This suggestion is neither absurd nor impos- 
 sible perhaps not even improbable. A century ago 
 cotton had no commercial importance in the markets of 
 the world. Why may not something else supersede cot- 
 ton ? Because nothing else can possibly compete with it 
 in cheapness ? But cotton is not always cheap. It was 
 known and used in Europe for a century or more before 
 it could compete with wool or flax. How, then, did it 
 acquire this new quality of cheapness ? Simply by the ap- 
 plication of a little ingenuity to the improvement of the 
 methods of separating it from the seed. Why may not 
 similar ingenuity be applied to other materials, with simi- 
 lar success ? I do not undertake to say that this danger 
 is immediately upon us. But the fact that such inven- 
 tions are possible, warns us significantly of the folly of 
 embarking all our fortunes in a single bottom. By diver- 
 sifying our industries, and by cultivating all those useful 
 arts by which wealth is retained at home and accumulated 
 where it is retained, we can attain substantial indepen- 
 dence, and we shall be prepared for any reverse which may 
 affect only a single interest. Poverty or riches, want or 
 abundance, will no longer depend upon the turning of a 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 137 
 
 die. Strong in the multitude of our resources, we shall 
 always be prepared for what the morrow may bring forth. 
 We shall no longer seem to ourselves to be accumulating 
 food for cormorants, or lavishing upon others the aliment 
 which should nourish ourselves. 
 
 Perhaps, when we shall have familiarized ourselves with 
 the same pursuits which have made our Northern brethren 
 prosperous, and when all parts of our common country 
 shall be more nearly assimilated, we shall find fewer causes 
 of contention in the national legislature. Perhaps we 
 shall become more truly what our fathers were before us, 
 and what we too still are in name a united people. 
 
 But if this may not be, if the lamentable schisms which 
 divide us are fated to grow wider and wider, if we are 
 doomed to see the glorious flag of our republic rent in 
 twain, and the fair temple of liberty in which we have so 
 long worshipped crumble into ruin, then at least may we 
 of the South feel, in that day of darkness when we decree 
 our separation from our Northern brethren, that we have 
 within ourselves every element of an empire, and are 
 truly independent of all the world. 
 
 Decree our separation ! On this unwelcome theme 
 permit me for one moment to dwell. Permit me to add 
 one word of warning, one word of entreaty, one word of 
 deep, earnest, and most certainly patriotic, conviction. 
 For what should we decree our separation ? That the 
 broad barrier of the Constitution, our impregnable rampart 
 against the rabid abolitionism of England, may be broken 
 down, and leave us exposed to formidable assaults and 
 vexatious annoyances in our intercourse with the world ? 
 That the combined fanaticism of Christendom may plot 
 without restraint against our peace, may harass our borders 
 with marauding incursions, and instigate servile war in 
 the very heart of our quiet land ? That the obligation to 
 
138 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 respect and restore our property, which now shields our 
 widely exposed Northern frontier an obligation not 
 cheerfully fulfilled, if you please, but still an obligation, 
 and mark that still fulfilled nevertheless, may give 
 place to a ceaseless border war expanding at frequent in- 
 tervals into general hostilities ? Is it for these things that 
 we are to decree our separation? If not, then for what ? 
 What did I hear ? A foreign alliance ? Did some one 
 say that Britain, in terror of her operatives and dependent 
 on the cotton-growing States for security against convul- 
 sion, would receive us under the shadow of her wing ? 
 That this all-powerful mistress of the waves would fight 
 our battles against the North, and that a British line-of- 
 battle ship would blow the revenue-cutters of the Union 
 
 aye, and the frigates too like fishing smacks, out of 
 the water ? If I did not hear that language here, I have 
 heard it elsewhere. And shall we yield ourselves up 
 to so fatal a delusion as this ? Great Britain needs your 
 cotton, you say, and therefore she will help you. Deceive 
 not yourselves, fellow-citizens. Great Britain never gives 
 where she has the power to take. She needs your cotton 
 
 granted. You need her manufactures she knows it. 
 If she must buy or perish, you must sell or starve. In a 
 contest of that kind, which do you think has the power to 
 hold out the longest ? Certainly not you. You tell us 
 that her very existence is at stake if you stop her mills. 
 I tell you that you cannot stop them. You say she fears 
 the rabble of her unemployed operatives. What is to 
 prevent her turning that rabble loose upon you ? Do you 
 say that you will never be wanting to the vindication of 
 your independence and the defence of your fireside ? I 
 hope not ; yet my heart sickens when I meet, at every 
 turn, still the same trumpet-cry of conflict, still the same 
 menace of blood ! 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 139 
 
 But you answer, triumphantly, England will sooner 
 make terms than fight. England cannot come to terms 
 with you without fighting an enemy more formidable than 
 you will be the confederated States from which you 
 will have torn yourselves away. Unfortunately, the army, 
 the navy, all the stores and munitions of war, the custom- 
 houses of the great seaports, and, more than all, the 
 immense superiority of numbers, will remain on the side 
 of that confederacy. You propose that England shall 
 become your ally. What is to prevent her becoming the 
 ally of the North ? Certainly that would be her cheapest, 
 her surest, her most direct route to the object of her 
 wishes ; nor will it be any objection to it in her eyes that, 
 while with one hand she grasps your cotton, with the 
 other she might liberate your slaves. 
 
 These remarks may not be acceptable, but are they not 
 true ? And if they are, is it not necessary that such 
 truths should be plainly spoken and deeply pondered? 
 Decree our separation ! If it is for this, or anything like 
 this, that we are to be delivered from our present griev- 
 ances, better, far better, 
 
 Bear those ills we have, 
 Than fly to others that we know not of. 
 
 And are we to consider ourselves alone ? Is nothing 
 due to that sublime mission which has been confided to us, 
 the propagation and diffusion of free principles through- 
 out the world ? Shall we forget the prayers of fettered 
 thousands in other and less happy lands who, with out- 
 stretched hands, implore us not to quench the fires upon 
 the only altars of liberty beneath the arch of heaven ? Is 
 this peaceful asylum of the oppressed and persecuted of 
 all countries to become a pandemonium of anarchy and 
 carnage ? 
 
140 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 Decree our separation ! For any cause that has vet 
 arisen, be the thought cast out with loathing and horror ! 
 Decree our separation ! God in His infinite mercy forbid ! 
 
 IEDEPEXDEXCE ODE. 
 Written for the celebration at Tuskaloosa, Alabama, July th, 1851. 
 
 BY PKOF. P. A. P. BJLRXJLRD. 
 
 Tis the day of freedom's birth ; 
 Fling her starry banner forth ; 
 Let it wave, from South to North, 
 
 In her own blue sky. 
 Floating wide, from sea to sea, 
 On the breath of liberty, 
 Let that glorious standard be 
 
 Ever borne on high. 
 
 Who its onward course would bar ? 
 Who its lustrous folds would mar ? 
 Who would blot away a star f 
 
 Let him come not near. 
 Who would bear it proudly on, 
 Till its world-wide course is run ? 
 Of his sire, a worthy son, 
 
 Let him join us here. 
 
 By that sainted hero, sage, 
 
 Whose great deeds our heritage 
 
 Fill with brightness hist'ry's page, 
 
 By our Washington, 
 We will cling, till hope expires, 
 To the charter of our sires, 
 With a grasp that never tires, 
 
 Till our course is run. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 141 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 Barnard's theological studies Disorders in the University of Alabama 
 A senseless attack repelled Letters on college government begun 
 The Yale statute and the South Carolina Exculpation Law Objec- 
 tions to both Visitation of rooms by professors Espionage De- 
 fence of the Faculty Government by moral influence The ideal 
 college officer described Origin of the existing college system Eng- 
 lish colleges of the olden time The university and the college Unob- 
 served changes which had made discipline difficult or impossible The 
 college community The old system of government impossible The 
 dormitory system condemned Populous towns to be preferred to 
 country places for college establishments. 
 
 THE closing years of Professor Barnard's service to the 
 University of Alabama were years of much peaceful satis- 
 faction. In his home he had the happiness of a congenial 
 marriage ; in his profession as a teacher he was eminently 
 successful ; he was a powerful advocate of social and in- 
 dustrial reforms; he was honored by his friends and 
 respected by his opponents in the arena of the larger 
 politics of the time. To his mathematical and scientific 
 studies he had added some considerable researches in 
 philosophy, and having again become a candidate for holy 
 orders, he entered on the study of theology. Barnard 
 never became a theologian. He had sufficiently con- 
 vinced himself of the substantial truth of the Christian 
 religion. The historical argument had satisfied him of 
 the justice of the claims of the Episcopal Church as a 
 validly organized and doctrinally trustworthy Church of 
 Christ. He was content to accept its teachings in their 
 plainest and most simple sense, and while he took pains 
 to inform himself of the chief topics of controversy con- 
 cerning which various schools and parties of Churchmen 
 
142 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 have held different and contradictory opinions, he was 
 little interested in such subjects, and perhaps regarded 
 them with some disdain. He seems instinctively to 
 have made a clear distinction between the Christian faith 
 and the endless muddle of theological opinions by which 
 it has been obscured. A brochure from his pen which was 
 published about this time shows that, as a churchman, he 
 believed in a loyal and straightforward obedience to the 
 polity of the Church in any and all circumstances. In 
 short, while his complete reaction from puritanism had 
 made it impossible for him to be an " evangelical, " his 
 constitutional breadth of mind made it equally impossible 
 for him to become a partisan "high churchman." With 
 the apparently destructive tendencies of one section of 
 the "broad church" school of a later time he had no 
 sympathy, and the constructive but scholarlike and criti- 
 cal school which is represented by the distinguished head 
 of Keble College, Oxford, had not then been thought of. 
 In resolving to take orders Professor Barnard had no in- 
 tention of engaging in parochial work. He had finally 
 and completely devoted himself to the work of teaching ; 
 but he knew that in every age of the Church's history 
 teaching had been held to be a proper function of the 
 Christian ministry, and he desired that his life as a 
 teacher should be sanctioned and consecrated by the 
 ministerial character. In the studies which were nec- 
 essary to prepare him for his ordination he spent some 
 considerable part of his leisure during the closing years 
 of his residence in Tuskaloosa. His last year there was 
 occupied with educational controversies which would 
 have been regrettable if they had not caused him to 
 formulate and publish the views of college discipline 
 and organization which he continued to maintain in all 
 their main features throughout his life. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 143 
 
 In the University of Alabama there had more than once 
 been temporary disorders among the students which had 
 been serious enough to cause embarrassment to the Faculty 
 and to bring down upon them the animadversions of the 
 press of the State. One result of these events was to 
 induce Professor Barnard to publish, chiefly in The Mobile 
 Register, a series of "Letters on College Government" 
 which will be mentioned below. Another result was 
 an effort to reconstruct the whole plan of the Univer- 
 sity, on the model of the University of Virginia, which 
 seemed to him to be, at least, premature. Its most 
 prominent advocate was the Hon. Henry W. Collier, a 
 former governor of Alabama, who had been, as governor, 
 president ex officio of the Board of Trustees of the Uni- 
 versity. Governor Collier and his son-in-law, Professor 
 Benagh, who held a chair in the University, strenuously 
 advocated their scheme in the Democratic paper of Tuska- 
 loosa ; Barnard, with the assistance of Professor Stafford, 
 who held the chair of Latin, opposed it with equal vigor 
 in the Whig organ. For a time the controversy was kept 
 up week by week with some warmth, but without invidi- 
 ous personalities. At length, however, Governor Collier 
 had the indiscretion to refer to his opponents as a Yankee 
 who had no sympathies with the South and a narrow- 
 minded South Carolinian who could see no merit in any 
 educational institution but the University of South 
 Carolina. 
 
 This article [says Barnard] was brought to my notice one 
 day as I was sitting at the editorial table of the Tuskaloosa 
 Monitor, which was my own organ, and it had its natural 
 effect. I seized a pen and dashed off on the spot a para- 
 graph beginning with the words, " I avow myself the author 
 of the articles which have appeared in the editorial columns 
 of this paper on the proposed reorganization of the Univer- 
 
144 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 sity." After this introduction, I proceeded to state that I had 
 carefully observed the amenities of literary discussion and had 
 not written a word which could be considered personally offen- 
 sive to any individual, but that since my opponent had dis- 
 played a different spirit and was apparently disposed to take 
 advantage of a presumed eminence of position to crush an 
 adversary whom he could not overpower in argument, I 
 would disregard conventionalities as thoroughly as he, and 
 would give him to understand that it was not in the power 
 of a broken-down politician to browbeat men of sense. The 
 ink was hardly dry on the paper when my colleague, Professor 
 Stafford, came in. The manuscript was submitted to him and 
 with his approval it went immediately to press. On the ap- 
 pearance of the paper there was no small stir in Tuskaloosa. 
 Governor Collier appeared before the Board with a manuscript 
 which it took him nearly an hour to read. He professed to 
 give a history of the controversy, and accused me of libelling 
 him by describing him as " a broken-down politician," a desig- 
 nation which he maintained to be untrue, but which was cer- 
 tainly true, since, after his term as Governor, he had failed of 
 promotion to the dignity of Senator of the United States and 
 had been quietly retired to private life. In conclusion he de- 
 manded my removal from office as a punishment for my offence. 
 When he had finished, I inquired of the President if I might 
 be permitted to speak. Governor Collier had been heard as a 
 matter of courtesy due to a former member of the Board, 
 and I had not the same claim to a personal hearing; conse- 
 quently, I was informed that the Board would consider any 
 written defence I might wish to submit, and for that purpose 
 the clerk was instructed to hand me Governor Collier's manu- 
 script. I retired to an adjacent room and drew up a brief but 
 resolute reply. I declared that the offence with which I was 
 charged was one of which the Board had no jurisdiction ; that 
 I was charged with no offence against my superiors ; and that, 
 if I had libelled the Governor, as he alleged, he had his 
 remedy in an appeal to the civil courts, where his complaint 
 could be tried by a jury before a tribunal of competent juris- 
 diction. On these grounds I said it was unnecessary for me to 
 discuss the merits of the charge before the Board of Trustees. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 145 
 
 My communication was immediately sent to the Board, and 
 in half an hour one of the trustees came to tell me that the 
 cause had been dismissed. 
 
 After this unpleasant incident, The Mobile Register^ 
 in which Professor Barnard's "Letters on College Gov- 
 ernment " had been appearing, declined to continue to pub- 
 lish them, and the remainder of the series was published 
 in a Montgomery newspaper. Fragmentary as they nec- 
 essarily were in consequence of their form, they attracted 
 considerable attention at the North as well as at the 
 South, and in deference to many urgent requests, they 
 were republished by the Messrs. Appleton in the follow- 
 ing year. It is not easy to condense the contents of 
 these twelve letters ; but it is certainly necessary to give 
 a general view of their scope and purport. 
 
 At the very opening of his first letter Professor Bar- 
 nard prepared the way for the avowedly radical conclusion 
 which he intended to reach. He frankly admitted that 
 the strictures of the press on the conduct of the Faculty 
 of the Alabama University indicated the existence of some 
 defect in the American college system to which it was 
 desirable that the attention of the community should be 
 directed ; and he urged that the defect, whatever it might 
 be, must be inherent in the system, since virtually the 
 same system existed in all American colleges, and was 
 everywhere attended with the same difficulties of admin- 
 istration and with similar complaints of mismanagement. 
 The criticisms to which the authorities of the Alabama 
 University had been subjected were directed against the 
 laws by which they were governed and against certain 
 disciplinary customs which were prevalent in all colleges; 
 but those laws and customs were alike parts of a system 
 to the integrity of which they were essential, so that, if 
 reform was necessary, it was the system itself, and not 
 
146 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 merely the subordinate incidents of the system, which 
 ought to be reformed. 
 
 In colleges, as in all other communities, some laws were 
 necessary, and laws which provided no penalties to be 
 inflicted on the lawless would be futile. On the other 
 hand, if the lawful governing body of any community 
 should be deprived of the necessary means of discovering 
 the perpetrators of unlawful acts, it would be reduced to 
 a condition of helpless inefficiency. No civil community 
 could continue to exist under such conditions, and there- 
 fore the laws of every civil community make it the 
 bounden duty of its citizens or subjects to aid the gov- 
 ernment by giving testimony, whenever required, con- 
 cerning real or alleged breaches of public order and the 
 persons by whom they have been committed. In the 
 investigation of offences the civil laws pay no respect to 
 personal scruples. When the citizen is called as a witness, 
 he is required to tell what he knows of the case in hand, 
 and the witness, so constrained, incurs no condemnation 
 for complying with the necessary demands of the law. 
 In other communities, into which persons enter volun- 
 tarily for their own advantage, and to the laws of which 
 they consent to submit, it is equally necessary that they 
 should be ready, when lawfully required, to aid the gov- 
 erning body in the detection and punishment of offenders 
 against the laws of such communities. 
 
 It was on this principle that most of the older colleges 
 of the country had framed their laws. The statute of 
 Yale College was framed in the following language : 
 
 Whenever a student shall be required by one of the Faculty 
 to disclose his knowledge concerning any disorder, offence or 
 offender, against a law of the College, and shall refuse to make 
 such disclosure, he may be sent home or dismissed. No student 
 shall be questioned for any testimony he may give in regard 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 147 
 
 to a violation of a law of this College ; and in case any student 
 shall so question his fellow-student to ascertain whether he 
 hath testified, or with intent to bring into contempt any stu- 
 dent because be hath testified, the student so acting shall be 
 deemed to have committed an offence, and may be proceeded 
 against by the Faculty according to the aggravation of the 
 offence, even to dismission. 
 
 Notwithstanding the apparent reasonableness of this 
 statute, its enforcement was always difficult because of 
 an invincible repugnance on the part of students to appear 
 in the character of informers against their fellow-students. 
 While at Yale, Professor Barnard had learned in his own 
 experience that the popular sentiment of the College had 
 not been adverse to good discipline. It "favored the 
 view that it is well that law shall have its course, that 
 it is well that offenders shall be reached and dealt with, 
 that it is well that good order and good morals shall be 
 preserved, but that it is not well that a student shall 
 become an informer upon his fellow-student." The power 
 of popular sentiment among students is immense. The 
 sense of the obligation of comradeship is so imperious as 
 to compel young men of the highest character and conduct 
 virtually to enter into a combination for the protection of 
 others with whom they have no personal association, and 
 whose irregularities they strongly disapprove. The best 
 laws fail when they cannot be enforced, and in the most 
 critical cases, that is in the most important cases, the 
 Yale law could not be enforced because it was not sus- 
 tained by the public sentiment of the community in which 
 it was to be applied. 
 
 In Southern colleges it was impossible to enforce the 
 Yale law, which was opposed to the general sentiment 
 of the people as well as to the popular feeling of students. 
 Still, it was indispensable that college authorities should 
 
148 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 have some means of ascertaining the facts arising in cases 
 of discipline, and therefore a different law was framed, 
 under which the student should not be required to testify 
 against a fellow-student, but might be required at least to 
 declare whether he himself were innocent of the offence 
 under investigation. This law, known as the " exculpation 
 law," had been adopted by the University of Alabama 
 from the code of the University of South Carolina, and 
 was expressed as follows : 
 
 In ordinary cases, and for mere college misdemeanors, no 
 student shall be called upon to give information against 
 another; but when several persons are known to contain 
 among them the guilty person or persons, that the innocent 
 may not suffer equally with the guilty, they are all liable to 
 be severally called up, and each to be put upon his own ex- 
 culpation, unless the magnanimity of the guilty shall relieve 
 the Faculty from the necessity of this expedient, by an in- 
 genuous confession of his or their own fault. If any student, 
 when thus permitted to declare his innocence, shall decline to 
 exculpate himself, he shall be considered as taking the guilt 
 of the offence upon himself and encountering all the conse- 
 quences. If a student shall deny that he is guilty, that shall 
 be taken as prima fade evidence of his innocence ; but if it 
 shall afterwards appear from satisfactory evidence that he 
 was really guilty, he shall be considered unworthy to remain 
 in the University. 
 
 It was under the exculpation law that recent difficulties 
 had been encountered in the University of Alabama, and 
 the public opinion of the State, as represented by the 
 press, had sustained the students who had refused to obey 
 that law. Professor Barnard did not defend the law, and 
 indeed it was objectionable in more ways than one. It 
 was utterly inconsistent with the maxim of the common 
 law, that every person shall be presumed to be innocent 
 until he is proved to be guilty. The common law assumes 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 149 
 
 that an accused person who declines to plead, pleads Not 
 Guilty ; but the exculpation law visited with the penalty 
 of guilt a person who was actually not accused, unless he 
 would asseverate his innocence. Moreover, its application 
 might result in extreme injustice, since an offence against 
 the exculpation law might involve no worse fault than 
 obedience to a mistaken sense of honor, and yet it was to 
 be construed and punished as the admission of an offence 
 which might be of the utmost turpitude. To the mind 
 of the student the exculpation law was deprived of the 
 essential element of respectability because it aimed, by 
 means of an ingenious indirection, to compel him to do 
 what it confessed that he ought not to be required to do. 
 It admitted the broad principle that one student ought 
 not to be required to give information against another ; 
 and yet its purpose and effect were to compel students 
 who were innocent to denounce the guilty by a mere 
 process of elimination. In practice, too, there could be 
 no assurance that the law would not be subversive of all 
 justice, since an unscrupulous offender might go free by 
 simply affirming his innocence, while an honorable and 
 truthful, but too generous or too scrupulous man might 
 incur the penalty of an offence which he was incapable of 
 committing. 
 
 Professor Barnard did not defend the exculpation law. 
 
 I can never believe [he said] that any law which meets the 
 disapprobation of the public is a good law. The efficacy of law 
 is not to be looked for in the pains and penalties it denounces, 
 so much as in the support and approval of all good men. 
 Whatever enactment fails to secure these, fails of the most 
 essential element of moral power. It matters not whether it 
 be intrinsically good or bad; it is enough to make it bad, 
 whatever be its intrinsic excellence, that the community who 
 witness its enforcement regard it as oppressive and. wrong. 
 
150 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 What more is necessary to undermine the efficacy of any 
 law than to crown with applause those who resist its opera- 
 tions, and to canonize its victims as martyrs to a glorious 
 cause ? 
 
 Yet he did not admit that the exculpation law must nec- 
 essarily be wrong in itself, merely because public opinion 
 was adverse to it. The old maxim, Vox populi vox Dei, 
 must be taken with large limitations. Thus " the law of 
 Congress providing for the arrest and delivery of fugitive 
 slaves is certainly a good law; yet, throughout the length 
 and breadth of the States for which it is designed, there 
 is no division of opinion at all as to its wrongfulness. 
 Those who give it their support politicians, editors, 
 ministers of the Gospel, even judges on the bench do so, 
 avowedly, for no other reason than because it is a law, and 
 not because they approve of its provisions." Under the 
 existing system of college organization it was evident that 
 some law requiring students to give evidence in cases of 
 disorder of which students alone could generally be wit- 
 nesses, was clearly necessary. The Yale law demanded 
 their evidence in such cases on principles acknowledged 
 and applied in all civil communities, and college authorities 
 were no more bound than other lawful authorities to pay 
 respect to the scruples of witnesses. If the Yale law had 
 failed in its operation in certain instances because it was 
 opposed by popular opinion among the students, it had at 
 least been founded on a principle which the general public 
 upheld. The Southern colleges, in adopting the exculpa- 
 tion law, had abandoned that principle. Until they did 
 so, popular opinion, even among the students, had not uni- 
 versally and unanimously stigmatized the giving of testi- 
 mony as an act of flagrant dishonor. Yet the adoption of 
 the exculpation law had been a concession to public opin- 
 ion; and if it did not work well, the only alternative was 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 151 
 
 to return to the Yale law, a course which no one had pro- 
 posed. No third method of meeting the necessities of 
 college discipline had been suggested. 
 
 It was not college faculties that had raised this dilemma. 
 They themselves were confronted with it. Unless they 
 were to renounce all discipline, they must adopt the one 
 law or the other. In the University of Alabama they 
 had the exculpation law, and they had chosen to call it 
 into operation only on rare occasions and in cases of ex- 
 traordinary difficulty. They had regarded and used it as a 
 power to be held strictly in reserve; and, used in that way, 
 it had been a real power. College life is an enjoyable life 
 even to men who do not fully realize its educational advan- 
 tages. It has its ambitions which the student does not 
 willingly abandon. For the serious it has benefits which 
 extend to their whole subsequent career. No student can 
 contemplate an expulsion from college otherwise than as 
 a grave misfortune. Martyrdom is seldom sought with 
 eagerness, and students are no fonder of martyrdom than 
 other people. Consequently, when the student knows that 
 the faculty holds in reserve a power which may compel 
 him to submit to martyrdom unless the ordinary means 
 of discipline suffice, his interests and his inclinations must 
 alike lead him to desire that the ordinary means shall be 
 successful. Thus, to the very moment of conflict with the 
 faculty under the exculpation law, the sympathy and influ- 
 ence of the student were enlisted on the side of the faculty, 
 and were more than likely to obviate the necessity of using 
 the reserved power which is conferred by the provisions of 
 that law. 
 
 Having thus vindicated the action of the faculty of the 
 University in applying, on extreme occasions, and on such 
 occasions only, the power conferred upon them by a law 
 which he conceded to be objectionable, and having shown 
 
152 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 that the only substitute for that law was another ob- 
 jectionable law which had been deliberately rejected by 
 the Southern colleges, he left it to be inferred that a col- 
 lege system for which no satisfactory law of discipline 
 could be devised must be a defective system. He next 
 proceeded to meet an objection which had been strongly 
 made to the official visitation of students' rooms by 
 members of the faculty. 
 
 The visitation of rooms by the professors had been cen- 
 sured mainly on two grounds : first, that it was an in- 
 vasion of the natural right of the student to the privacy 
 of his own room ; and, second, that its object was to 
 obtain by sly and stealthy methods a knowledge of of- 
 fences against good discipline which could not be secured 
 by fair and honorable means. The mere existence of 
 such an impression among the students, Professor Bar- 
 nard observed, must be fatal to good order, since it must 
 effectually destroy their confidence in the good will and 
 honorable conduct of their superiors. The very first 
 requisite in a governor of youth is the power to win the 
 confidence of those who are set under his authority; and 
 the very best of men, if he should lack that indispensable 
 faculty, might be, and probably would be, an exceedingly 
 bad governor of a college. The power to win confidence 
 depends in most cases rather on manner than on right 
 purpose, since it is chiefly by manner that a right and 
 kindly purpose is made known to those who are affected 
 by it. But confidence, like love, is a sentiment which 
 wins reciprocation ; and no college officer can expect the 
 confidence of students unless he reposes confidence in them. 
 
 A wise college officer will invariably treat the student as 
 if he believed him to intend rightly. In nine cases out of ten 
 he will be able to do so from conviction ; and if, in the tenth case, 
 circumstances arise to create a doubt, he will frankly state the 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 153 
 
 circumstances and afford an opportunity for an explanation of 
 them. By adopting this course he will be met, in ninety-nine 
 cases out of a hundred, in a spirit of equal frankness, and 
 will remove the strongest of the temptations by which youths 
 are led to engage in violations of the rules of order. To 
 attempt to impose upon his confidence will be regarded as an 
 act of treachery, which is the most odious of all crimes in the 
 eyes of generous young men. 
 
 In endeavoring to learn how the time of students is 
 employed when they are not under his immediate super- 
 vision, a wise teacher will resort to no means which are 
 not open and straightforward. In certain natures there 
 is an element of suspicion which makes it difficult to trust 
 others, and such persons may find it impossible to resist 
 the temptation to adopt devices of vigilance which amount 
 to systematic espionage. No information so obtained is 
 likely to be of real benefit to either party ; and when the 
 practice of espionage is suspected by the student, the 
 moral power of the governor is broken forever. It would 
 be an instructive inquiry, if it could be successfully pros- 
 ecuted, whether many college difficulties have not had 
 their origin in the irritation of students laboring under 
 the impression that their footsteps are dogged, their 
 private conduct watched, and their careless words noted 
 down to be reported against them. Such a suspicion, 
 however unfounded, is utterly mischievous, and whatever 
 tends to produce it is mischievous. But college officers 
 seldom give just occasion for suspicions of that sort. 
 Most of them exhibit a real frankness and confidence 
 towards their students which secures an unreserved recip- 
 rocation of the same sentiments. In the University of 
 Alabama it was not charged that the professors had de- 
 served, or that the students had entertained, a charge of 
 unworthy methods of espionage. It was the system of 
 
154 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 visitation in itself which was condemned ; and as a part 
 of the existing system of college discipline Professor 
 Barnard maintained that the visitation system was not 
 only defensible, but indispensable. 
 
 In principle it involved no wrong, and invaded no 
 natural right of the student. The college received him 
 as a student on the express condition that he should con- 
 sent to yield up a portion of his time to be used under 
 the direction of the faculty. Colleges may, and often do, 
 require the attendance of the student in the class-room, 
 not only during the hours of lecture or recitation, but 
 also during the hours of preparation. When this require- 
 ment is waived, and the student is permitted to spend his 
 hours of preparatory study in his own apartment, it is 
 not intended nor implied that he is to be at liberty to 
 spend those hours at his own discretion in something else 
 than study ; and the visitation of rooms during those 
 hours is a practical and necessary assertion of the fact 
 that those hours are not his own, but are to be used for 
 educational purposes under the supervision of the college 
 authorities. Beyond those hours the system of visitation 
 of rooms did not extend. " Outside of those hours, so 
 long as no disorder occurs to require interposition, the 
 privacy of the dormitories is as much respected by the 
 authorities as that of the Grand Turk's seraglio by all 
 good Mussulmans." 
 
 Thus the visitation system, as practised in the Uni- 
 versity, was both right and reasonable ; and it was not 
 the Faculty, but the students, who had found it to be 
 indispensable. For a year or two, while the number of 
 students was small, the Faculty had practised no visita- 
 tion of the rooms, even in study hours. When the num- 
 ber was increased, visitation was begun at the express 
 request of the students themselves, because those who 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 155 
 
 were disposed to study found their time so encroached 
 upon, and their quiet so disturbed, by others who were 
 not studious, that they requested the Faculty to protect 
 them by introducing the visitation of rooms. If the ex- 
 periment were to be repeated, Professor Barnard expressed 
 the conviction that it would end in the same way. Habits 
 of lounging from room to room do not grow up in a day, 
 and therefore the necessity of visitation might not be 
 immediately apparent ; but in a community consisting of 
 a hundred or two of young men brought together at 
 random and changing from year to year, lounging and 
 waste of time in profitless trivialities would surely occur 
 to an extent which would demand the protection of the 
 studious from constant and aimless interruption by the 
 idle. Hence the visitation of rooms, to which such 
 strenuous objections had been adduced, was no system of 
 espial, but rather a kindness to the students themselves. 
 It was regrettable, perhaps, that its official character 
 somewhat obscured its real intention. It was eminently 
 desirable that the manner of the visiting officer should 
 always be such as to indicate that he was there in the 
 capacity, not of an official authority so much as in that of 
 a kindly and helpful friend. It would be well, too, both 
 for students and professors, if there were somewhat more 
 intercourse between them at times when the artificial 
 relations of instructor and pupil might be forgotten, or 
 at least kept out of sight. The consequence would be 
 the forming of personal ties and the growth of a mutual 
 understanding which would contribute, more than any- 
 thing else could, to the harmony and happiness of the 
 college community. 
 
 On the part of officers it is often difficult, or even impos- 
 sible, to do in this way as much as they would ; both because 
 of the pressure of burdens public and private and because of 
 
156 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the large number of the young men between whom their atten- 
 tion must be divided ; but they might invite and encourage the 
 visits of the students to themselves, so far as their arrange- 
 ments will allow, and I have no hesitation in saying that they 
 should reciprocate such visits whenever it may be in their 
 power. It is my candid opinion that all the laws which were 
 ever enacted for the good government of colleges are weak and 
 nugatory compared with that boundless moral influence which 
 it is possible for the individual officer to acquire by winning 
 the affections, instead of operating on the fears, of those whom 
 he instructs. Perhaps there is no single means so effectual 
 towards the accomplishment of this desirable end than that he 
 should manifest a prompt willingness to meet and reciprocate 
 with them all the ordinary courtesies of life in a spirit, and 
 with a manner, which shall show that they are something more 
 than empty forms. 
 
 The existing system of college organization and govern- 
 ment, Professor Barnard proceeded to maintain, demanded 
 a combination of characteristics in college officers which, in 
 the nature of things, must be exceedingly rare, and which 
 might be wholly lacking in men of the very highest capac- 
 ity as instructors. A mere enumeration of the peculiar 
 endowments required to fit men for the difficult task of 
 college government would show how rare they were, and, 
 consequently, how insecure a system must be which de- 
 pended for its success on conditions which could so rarely 
 be realized. The passage in which the ideal college 
 officer is described is here given without abridgment. 
 
 The first trait of character which I regard as essential 
 to the success of a college officer, under our present system of 
 government, is one in which few are found to fail ; but which 
 rather, from its occasional predominance over the milder 
 traits, gives sometimes something like a tone of harshness to 
 the manner, which it were better to veil ; and that is firmness. 
 No government can succeed which fails to command respect, 
 and no respect can be felt for a vacillating, timorous, or irreso- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 157 
 
 lute superior. The hand must be at once strong and steady 
 which holds the rein over the giddy impulses of heedless or 
 undisciplined youth ; nor will any one be found more ready to 
 admit this necessity than those, or at least the majority of 
 them for most young men are ingenuous who themselves 
 need the restraint. But upon this point it is unnecessary to 
 multiply words, since the absence of the quality under consid- 
 eration is rarely one of the faults of an American college officer. 
 
 It may be occasionally otherwise in regard to the quality of 
 which I am next to speak, and of which the importance is 
 always most felt in connection with the last. I mean a mild- 
 ness of manner, which divests the firmest government of every 
 appearance of sternness, and clothes the severest decrees of 
 justice with the exterior of kindness. The popular appreciation 
 of the value of such a union of qualities is manifested in the 
 frequent application of the maxim which, with aphoristic 
 brevity, associates them, as the " suaviter in modo, fortiter in re." 
 Napoleon observed of the French, that they needed for their 
 control " a hand of iron in a glove of velvet." One of his sub- 
 jects, who probably knew by experience the feeling of the hand, 
 remarked that the great monarch never failed of the iron grasp, 
 but often forgot to put on the glove. The observation of the 
 French emperor is not inapplicable to the impulsive youth of 
 our American colleges ; and while I yield to no one in my con- 
 viction of the indispensable necessity of firmness and decision 
 in college government, I sincerely believe that an exterior of 
 unvarying mildness on the part of those who administer such 
 a government, is a means of preventing evil more efficacious 
 than all the penalties of the law put together. If youthful 
 passions, prompt to effervesce, are easily excited, so are they 
 quite as easily soothed ; and the fable of the sun and the wind, 
 though it symbolizes a truth as universal as human nature, is 
 nowhere more strikingly illustrated than within the walls of 
 a college. 
 
 Much, also, of the success of college government depends 
 upon the exercise of a wise discretion by the officer, in regard 
 to the use he may make of his own powers. Because he may 
 punish, it does not follow that he always should punish, 
 whenever occasion arises It does not even follow that he 
 
158 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 should always betray his knowledge of the offence, farther 
 than to the offender himself. By privately admonishing the 
 individual of the impropriety of his conduct, and pointing out 
 to him the danger to which he has exposed himself, much more 
 good may often be accomplished, in the way of prevention 
 and reformation, than by all the disgrace attendant on public 
 rebuke and censure. When such a course is possible, it is 
 obviously the wisest, as it is the kindest and most forbearing. 
 But such a mode of proceeding may not always answer the 
 purpose ; and on this account it is, that no quality of mind is 
 of higher value in the officer than a clear and discreet judg- 
 ment. Censures, penalties, punishments of all kinds, are 
 unavoidable necessities arising out of the imperfection of 
 human nature; but as their main design, in human institu- 
 tions, is the prevention of offences, so the less these are re- 
 sorted to, consistently with the attainment of this end, the better. 
 It is not an unfrequent occurrence that a young man in col- 
 lege feels himself aggrieved by something which has occurred 
 between him and his instructor. He may imagine that a fair 
 hearing has not been given him in the recitation room ; or he 
 may interpret in an injurious sense words addressed to him 
 in the hearing of his class ; or he may believe that he has not 
 been rated as high on the record as his performances merit; 
 or some other cause of dissatisfaction may arise, to induce 
 him to remonstrate or complain. Nor should the instruc- 
 tor turn from such representations contemptuously away. 
 Patience should be one of his marked characteristics ; and he 
 will probably never find it more thoroughly tried than on occa- 
 sions of this kind. For if he possess the qualities I have 
 already enumerated, especially the last two named, he will 
 have been steadily laboring against the very errors which he 
 sees thus imputed to him, and he must feel that his intention 
 is certainly wronged, whatever impression his words or acts 
 may have conveyed. But this must not provoke him to listen 
 any the less patiently, or to explain any the less circumstan- 
 tially, the occurrences out of which the dissatisfaction has 
 grown, nor, if he pursues such a course, will he usually fail 
 to dispel the momentary chagrin and reestablish the feeling 
 of confidence and kindness which it had temporarily disturbed. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 159 
 
 I need not say how important it is that the college officer, 
 whether in dispensing censure or praise, should be actuated 
 by no feeling of favor on the one hand, or of prejudice on the 
 other. There exists no higher necessity in the civil courts, 
 that justice should be meted out with severe impartiality, than 
 that the same principle should preside over all the awards of 
 college authorities. No more frequent charge is advanced 
 against the officers of our literary institutions than that they 
 are partial. The partiality alleged to exist is more commonly 
 one of favor than the contrary; but we hear it sometimes 
 asserted, nevertheless, that the prejudices of officers blind them 
 to the merits of certain individuals, or lead them to exercise 
 toward such an undue severity. As a general rule, it may be 
 said that these imputations are unfounded. The disregard 
 with which, often as they are made, they are treated by the 
 public, shows that they are considered to be, as on the slight- 
 est estimate of probabilities they must appear, entirely base- 
 less. They point out, nevertheless, a quality which it is 
 absolutely indispensable that the college officer should possess ; 
 while they admonish us that it is not the possession alone, but 
 the reputation of possessing I refer to the reputation within 
 the college itself which the judicious officer will aim to 
 secure. 
 
 It may be observed that the most cautious wisdom will not 
 always preserve to the most judicious college officer the invari- 
 able and unfailing good will of those whom it is his duty to 
 control. Certain ebullitions of temper on the part of excitable 
 young men may prompt them to hasty words or acts, well 
 suited to subvert the equanimity of any one however by 
 nature imperturbable. Yet the imperturbability of a college 
 officer should be superior to all such provocations. He should 
 tranquilly suffer the moment of excitement to pass by; and 
 allow the offender, under the influence of the self-rebuke usually 
 consequent upon reflection, to make the reparation which the 
 case demands. To allow himself to become excited, is but to 
 widen the breach and render it irreparable ; when but a single 
 consequence can possibly follow. He who has set at defiance 
 the authorities of the college, or treated its representative 
 with gross disrespect, can no longer remain a member of the 
 
160 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 institution. The necessity, therefore, of great power of self- 
 command on the part of a college officer is obvious; for 
 though the occasions which may severely try it can never be 
 frequent, yet the want of it, whenever they occur, is a mis- 
 fortune for which nothing can adequately compensate. 
 
 I have but one thing more to add. To a wise college gov- 
 ernor, the word INEXORABLE will be unknown. The faults of 
 youth are usually faults of impulse rather than of deliberate 
 purpose. They evince not so much settled wickedness as 
 thoughtless folly, or giddy recklessness of disposition. Few 
 so immature in years as are the majority of college youth are 
 already entirely abandoned ; while it is a fact almost without 
 exception, that those among almost every body of students 
 who have passed the climacteric which separates them from 
 boyhood, have ceased any longer to require the restraining 
 influence of college governments. The culprits, then, who are 
 brought to the bar of college justice, are almost invariably 
 boys whom vice has not had time utterly to subjugate, and 
 whose consciences are not yet callous to every appeal. From 
 such, when they repent, a considerate governor will be slow 
 to turn unfeelingly away ; nor while there remains room for 
 pardon will he hesitate to extend it to them. He will remem- 
 ber that on his decision perhaps hangs the entire destiny of 
 the offender for this world, if not for another; and no con- 
 siderations but such as involve the interests of the entire 
 community over which he is placed as a guardian will prevent 
 his accepting the evidence of sincere repentance as an expia- 
 tion of the most serious fault. 
 
 But were all college officers gifted in the highest degree 
 with the qualities which I have enumerated, I do not know 
 that it would follow that troubles would be impossible. I 
 only know that the non-existence of these endowments, to at 
 least a pretty large extent, leaves open a wide door for their 
 entrance. It is true, therefore, that the existing college sys- 
 tem is dependent for its successful operation, in a very emi- 
 nent degree, upon the kind of men to whom its administration 
 is entrusted ; and this fact, if it inheres in the system only in 
 consequence of the existence in the same system of features 
 which are inessential to the great purposes of education 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 161 
 
 and which admit of easy removal, is an evil the more to be 
 deplored because it is unnecessary. 
 
 How had the existing college system come into exist- 
 ence ? It had never been deliberately planned. It was 
 the outcome of a series of successive educational growths 
 and adjustments in another country. Its misfortune was 
 that it had been adopted here in circumstances to which 
 it was not suited, and that it attempted, with a defectively 
 organized machinery, to accomplish the twofold work of 
 instruction and government. 
 
 The universities of England, on the model of which 
 American colleges are erroneously supposed to have been 
 organized, assumed no responsibility for the conduct and 
 morals of the students. The lecturers, as they were 
 formerly called, that is, the professors, as they are now 
 called, did nothing, and, to this day, they do nothing, 
 but lecture. They never thought of hearing recitations, 
 and they had no personal oversight of the students. Yet, 
 for centuries after the foundation of those universities, 
 the students attending them were never regarded as men, 
 but merely as school -boys who required both moral con- 
 trol and personal drilling in their studies. To supply 
 these necessary things, monastic families, called colleges 
 and halls, were established, in which the students were 
 boarded, lodged, and governed by a master. The master 
 of a college was assisted by tutors, whose duty it was to see 
 that the youths were diligent in their studies and in their 
 attendance at the lectures, and to the utmost of their 
 power "to render them conformable to the Church of 
 England." It was a tutor's duty to " contain his pupils 
 within statutory regulations in matters of external appear- 
 ance, such as their clothes, boots, and hair." In case the 
 urchins evaded his vigilance, he himself was liable to a 
 
162 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 fine of six shillings and eight pence for the first, second, 
 and third offence; a fourth forfeited his office. But the 
 tutor had ample powers of discretionary discipline. If 
 boys would be boys, they were chastised like other boys. 
 Corporal punishment was inflicted in the English univer- 
 sities down to the time of Milton, and it was not unknown 
 in the earlier years of Harvard and Yale in this country. 
 Moreover, what would now be called a monitorial system 
 was then universal in the rude form of fagging, the 
 student, during his freshman year, being the drudge of 
 students of higher grade, and the whole body of students 
 being compelled to observances towards college officers 
 which would now be regarded as degrading. 
 
 It is true that in English universities the colleges have 
 gradually undertaken the duty of teaching in addition to 
 that of government. The tutor has practically supplanted 
 the professor, and in most things the college has super- 
 seded the university. But if they have undertaken 
 much, they have retained the power to accomplish it. 
 They have not, even yet, assumed that college students 
 are " men"; and they have not abandoned the college clois- 
 ters to the almost exclusive control of their juvenile occu- 
 pants. The idea of the monastic family is still dominant. 
 
 In those venerable institutions of Great Britain, every col- 
 lege is a quadrangle, securely walled in, with a janitor always 
 at the door, and with a definite hour for shutting in the entire 
 community with bar and bolt. Within the same architectural 
 pile reside not only the governed, but all the members of the 
 governing body, from the Master down to the numerous " fel- 
 lows," one of whose duties is to aid the authorities in the pres- 
 ervation of order. The whole college body, moreover, not 
 only resides under one roof, but dines at one table ; so that, in 
 all save the religious aspect, the distinguishing features of the 
 monastic family are kept conspicuously prominent to this 
 day. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 163 
 
 Thus, something like monastic discipline is still possible 
 in English colleges, because the means of discipline have 
 been retained in the hands of those by whom it is to 
 be exercised. 
 
 It is not a very great undertaking for a body of govern- 
 ors, so situated and possessed of such powers, to assume the 
 responsibility of maintaining good order in a body of stu- 
 dents trained from their earliest years to respect authority. 
 
 With us in America the case is widely different. Our col- 
 lege dormitories are erected in an isolated group, in the midst 
 of an open area. No officers or here and there only a tutor 
 occupy rooms in those buildings at night ; in some instances 
 none even by day. No president or professor meets the stu- 
 dents at a common table; nor, in the majority of colleges, do 
 commons continue to exist. No janitor marks, or can mark, who 
 leaves the premises during the hours devoted to study ; still less 
 who steals away or returns at those unwarrantable hours of 
 darkness, when nearly every one of the offences most ruinous 
 to good conduct and most difficult to manage is usually perpe- 
 trated. Within itself the dormitory is a community shut out 
 with more than Japanese seclusion from the surrounding social 
 world, and subject to none of the restraining influences by which 
 public opinion bears upon individuals in the society to which 
 man is born and to which the student must at length return. 
 
 The majority of the members of this artificial and 
 unnatural community are mere boys. In the University 
 of Alabama they might be received at the age of four- 
 teen, and very many entered before the age of sixteen. 
 Most of the freshmen came directly from schools where 
 their conduct had been subjected, as it was at home, 
 to constant supervision, and were wholly untrained 
 to habits of self-restraint. Recognized forthwith as 
 " men," it was not surprising if they misused their new- 
 found liberty, nor was it astonishing if they fell too 
 readily under the influence of vicious companions. The 
 
164 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 inequality in the age of students, Professor Barnard ol> 
 served, was a great difficulty in the framing of general 
 rules for their government when living under a cloister- 
 system. Rules which were necessary for the younger lads 
 were needlessly stringent and often vexatious to the older 
 students ; so that, necessary as they might be for the 
 former, they might fail, and often must fail, to have the 
 moral support of the latter. In so secluded a community, 
 the influence of public opinion is exceedingly great, and 
 it constitutes a special danger to the young. 
 
 The votaries of vice are much more zealous in making pros- 
 elytes than the devotees of virtue. The vile take a malignant 
 pleasure in marking the gradual steps by which the pure in 
 heart become wicked like themselves ; and the unsuspicious, 
 unreflecting nature of youth makes it specially prone to yield 
 to those whose familiarity with what is called life, but is too 
 often only the road to death, gives them a seeming superiority, 
 and lends to their opinions and example a most mischievous 
 fascination. College communities, like all other isolated com- 
 munities, are apt to be governed by false principles. In the 
 college code, the highest honor is not paid to what is good and 
 right, nor is the sternest disapprobation directed against what 
 is bad and wrong. To be gentlemanlike is better than to be 
 moral ; to be generous is more than to be just. It is much to 
 be doubted whether a protracted residence in a community in 
 which these false principles prevail can exert a healthful in- 
 fluence upon the character, and there can be no doubt of its 
 influence upon the morals and manners of the young and 
 susceptible. 
 
 Yet this is the community which college faculties are 
 required to govern ab extra, and to govern well, without 
 resorting to the most ordinary means of discovering of- 
 fenders. Dr. Barnard denied it to be possible, and he 
 asked whether there was a single reason why so impracti- 
 cable a system should be perpetuated. He maintained it 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 165 
 
 to be unnatural to remove the young from the enjoyment 
 and benefit of family sympathies and society at a time of 
 life at which these are of the highest value, and to plunge 
 them into an artificial community to be assailed with 
 special allurements of temptation. To require a few pro- 
 fessors, living outside of that community, to guard the 
 morals and regulate the conduct of its members, while 
 virtually deprived of all power of effectual discipline, he 
 held to be absurd. He pronounced the system, so far as 
 discipline was concerned, to have failed egregiously, and 
 he asserted that it had tended to lower even the teaching 
 standard of college instructors. The governing faculty 
 and the teaching faculty are not always to be found in 
 the same person. A good governor may not be an apt 
 teacher ; and the happiest of instructors may not be a 
 good manager of men or of affairs. In the American 
 college system, which required professors both to teach 
 and to govern, it often happened that a man was chosen 
 to teach, not so much because he was a good teacher as 
 because he was supposed to be a good governor ; and thus 
 the best instruction was often sacrificed in a vain attempt 
 to secure good government under a defective system. 
 
 Assuming the defectiveness of the existing system to 
 have been proved, Professor Barnard next inquired 
 whether there was any remedy for its defects. He in- 
 sisted that there was. It would be one remedy, if only 
 it were practicable, to return to the old university system 
 of England by completely separating the teaching func- 
 tion from that of discipline ; abolishing the dormitories, 
 and committing the government of students to the masters 
 and tutors of halls and colleges, while one and the same 
 corps of professors should be the instructors of all. For 
 various reasons he did not believe that this course would 
 be practicable, and he asked, Is there no other remedy ? 
 
166 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 There is one [he answered] to which, little favor as it may 
 find at present, especially with colleges which have invested 
 large sums of money in costly buildings, I sincerely believe 
 that the whole country will come at last. It is to abandon the 
 whole cloister system entirely, and with it the attempt to do 
 what is now done only in pretence; that is, the attempt to 
 watch over the conduct and protect the morals of the student. 
 I am aware that this is high ground to take. Deeply satisfied 
 as I have been, from the day I became a freshman in college 
 to the present hour, of the vast evil and the little good inhe- 
 rent in the present system of government in American colleges, 
 I should not perhaps even yet have felt emboldened to speak 
 out my convictions so publicly, had not one of the most emi- 
 nent of our American educators long since condemned the sys- 
 tem as publicly and decidedly as I, and upon precisely the 
 same grounds. But Dr. Wayland hesitates to pronounce the 
 existing evils sufficient to justify the abandonment of buildings 
 already erected. He confines himself to deprecating the erec- 
 tion of any more. I am disposed to take one step further. I 
 say that Dr. Wayland has proved the system to be so perni- 
 cious as to require that the axe should be laid at the root of 
 it, no matter what the cost may be. 
 
 After showing how the dormitory system might be 
 abolished at once in the University of Alabama by oc- 
 cupying the old State House which already belonged to 
 it, and allowing the students to find lodgings in the 
 homes of citizens of Tuskaloosa, he acknowledged that 
 the buildings which had hitherto been occupied would 
 ultimately be abandoned. He insisted that the abandon- 
 ment would be no real loss, since the State House would 
 afford far better accommodations for all purposes of in- 
 struction than the buildings then in use, and the dormito- 
 ries had never been a source of revenue to the University. 
 
 In the possession of the State House lie observed that 
 the University of Alabama had a great advantage over 
 other institutions similarly situated. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 167 
 
 Many others [he said] situated precisely like ourselves, have 
 no such advantage, and it is worth while to inquire how they 
 and we came originally to be in such a situation. A large 
 number of the colleges of our country are planted in retired 
 portions of the interior, and instead of being placed in the 
 midst of any community, even that of a small village, they are 
 situated at a distance of perhaps half an hour's walk from such 
 a community. The common design in all this has clearly been 
 to avoid the dangerous temptations which beset youth wherever 
 human beings are gathered in society. These temptations are 
 greatest in large towns ; therefore large towns are, first of all, 
 sedulously avoided. They are not absent even from small 
 towns and villages ; therefore small towns and villages are, in 
 like manner, tabooed. Since neither students nor professors 
 can live entirely apart from their fellow-creatures, the neigh- 
 borhood of some small town is tolerated; but only at such 
 convenient distance that if it possess any dangerous allure- 
 ments, the young men can easily discover them, and then enjoy 
 them with that satisfaction which comes from the knowledge 
 that their instructors are quietly housed a mile and a half off ! 
 
 He contended that the whole policy of isolating col- 
 leges from human society is a mistaken policy, since the 
 temptations of the city, though different in character, are 
 no more corrupting in their consequences than the temp- 
 tations of the country ; and he proclaimed his conviction 
 that whatever advantage there may be in the retirement 
 of a country place is dearly purchased by an educational 
 institution at the cost of sacrificing the conveniences, the 
 intellectual stimulus, the opportunities of observation, and 
 the many other advantages which students, not less than 
 other men, enjoy in great cities. For these reasons, he 
 said, "It is my well-settled belief that, in the selection 
 of a site for a college, the most populous town should be 
 preferred to any location in the country, however appar- 
 ently tempting, and that no consideration should disturb 
 this preference except that of healthfulness only." 
 
168 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 The system of college study The University of Virginia and its elective 
 plan Defence of the university Objections to the Virginia system 
 The "open system" condemned The significance of degrees 
 The object of college education to train the mind Objection to its 
 unpractical character considered The overloading of the college 
 course in compliance with popular demands An elective group of 
 studies proposed Barnard's election to the chair of Mathematics 
 and Natural Philosophy at the University of Oxford, Mississippi 
 His ordination and removal to Oxford. 
 
 PROFESSOR BARNARD'S "Report on a Proposition to 
 Modify the Plan of Instruction in the University of Ala- 
 bama" was written under considerable disadvantages, 
 and bears unmistakable evidences of the haste with which 
 it was prepared. Its arrangement of topics is faulty; it 
 is marked throughout by extreme diffuseness of style ; it 
 does not in the least suggest the complete scheme of col- 
 legiate, technical, and professional schools which might be 
 included in a thoroughly equipped university. Yet all 
 the elements of argument which might, and eventually 
 did, lead up to that larger idea were present to his mind 
 in the writing of this report. It is possible, indeed, that 
 he may have purposely abstained from the suggestion of 
 a scheme for which he did not consider the time to be yet 
 sufficiently ripe, and that he may have deliberately chosen 
 to confine himself for the present to a defence of the col- 
 lege as one indispensable branch of the grander institution 
 which might in time be developed ; but if it was so, his 
 design is nowhere betrayed in the document itself. Cer- 
 tain it is that no one could read this report without being 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 169 
 
 led to entertain many reflections beyond those which it 
 presented, and that its publication brought Professor 
 Barnard prominently forward not only as an able defender 
 of the old college curriculum, but also, and much more, 
 as a progressive student of the whole subject of education. 
 The occasion of the report was the presentation to the 
 Faculty of the following action of the Board of Trustees : 
 
 The President of the Board and the Trustees now present 
 are unanimously in favor of modifying the present system of 
 instruction in the University of Alabama, and respectfully 
 request the Faculty of the University to report to an adjourned 
 meeting of the Board, on Monday, the 25th of September next, 
 the plan and details for the initiation and continuance of a 
 system conforming, as near as our circumstances will allow, to 
 the arrangements of the University of Virginia. 
 
 JOHN A. WINSTON. 
 
 WM. H. FORNEY. 
 
 JOHN N. MALONE. 
 
 ED. BAPTIST. 
 
 H. W. COLLIER. 
 UNIVERSITY OF ALABAMA, JULY 12, 1854. 
 
 In this request of the Trustees to the Faculty there was 
 a practical culmination of the agitation which had been 
 promoted by Governor Collier. In its original motive 
 it was not unreasonable. It represented a demand which 
 grew naturally out of the condition of things existing in 
 the State. In all new countries education will be valued 
 for its immediate practical utility, rather than for its more 
 remote advantages. Not to speak of the more elementary 
 branches of education, chemistry and applied mathematics 
 will be appreciated, while astronomy and pure mathe- 
 matics will be slightly valued; and the study of " dead 
 languages " will be considered useless, while instruction 
 in some modern language may be eagerly sought. In all 
 
170 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 communities, old and new, the number of persons who can 
 expect to pass through a complete college curriculum is 
 small in comparison with the number for whom some- 
 thing more than the elementary education of the common 
 school is desirable; and in Alabama, where schools of 
 intermediate grade between the common schools and the 
 college were few and ill equipped, it was neither un- 
 natural nor unreasonable that the public should demand 
 such an adjustment of the college regulations as to make 
 some part of its curriculum available for the instruction 
 of the many for whom no other provision had been made. 
 It was thought that this end might be reached without 
 detriment to the special work of the college, if students 
 who did not desire to pass through the whole curriculum 
 were permitted to take such classes as might be helpful 
 in preparing them for the business or profession to which 
 they intended to devote their lives. It was generally 
 supposed that the University of Virginia permitted and 
 encouraged such a use of its classes, and hence there 
 arose a demand that the University of Alabama should 
 model its arrangements on the pattern of that institution. 
 If the demand had been limited to this extent, there 
 might have been much to say in its favor, especially in 
 a new State which had not yet organized a satisfactorily 
 complete system of public education. But the popular 
 understanding of the proposal included a far more sweep- 
 ing change, nothing less, in fact, than " that the University 
 should give instruction to all who chose to demand it, and 
 should give them whatever instruction they chose to de- 
 mand, so that the students should study what they chose, 
 all that they chose, and nothing but what they chose." 
 The function of the Faculty would then be simply to 
 learn what students for the time being wished, and, 
 from time to time, to modify all the arrangements of the 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 171 
 
 college in accordance with the wishes or requirements 
 of their pupils. Under such a system, which was em- 
 phatically not the system of the University of Virginia, 
 the college curriculum would be practically abolished, an 
 educational chaos would be brought into existence, and a 
 small number of instructors would be required to meet a 
 varied and capricious demand for the instruction of an 
 indefinite number of classes. 
 
 The agitation in favor of this revolution had been 
 animated, and even acrimonious. The scheme was well 
 adapted to enlist popular support. The leaders of the 
 movement were practical politicians, and the arts of the 
 politician were plied in promoting their designs. Two 
 members of the Faculty, Barnard and Stafford, who 
 had been zealous in opposing the proposed measure, were 
 held up to odium, the one as an imported Yankee and the 
 other as a supercilious and impracticable South Carolinian. 
 The large number of students at Charlottesville under 
 the [supposed] Virginia system was invidiously con- 
 trasted with the comparatively small number at Tuska- 
 loosa, and it was triumphantly asserted that an adoption 
 of the measure advocated by the agitators would have the 
 instant effect of crowding the University of Alabama 
 with students whom the present system excluded. To 
 the personal attack Barnard made the personal reply 
 which has been mentioned in the previous chapter. To 
 the proposed scheme, as formulated in general terms 
 by the Board of Trustees, he set forth his objections in 
 the report before us. 
 
 The communication from the Board was referred to 
 a committee of the Faculty consisting of Professors 
 Barnard, Pratt, and Benagh. In the report upon it 
 which was drawn up by Professor Barnard, Professor 
 Pratt concurred; Professor Benagh, the son-in-law of 
 
172 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Governor Collier, dissented. Accordingly, two reports 
 were laid before the Faculty. The report of the majority 
 was ordered by the Faculty to be communicated to the 
 Board of Trustees, and thus became, in effect, the reply 
 of the Faculty to the communication of the Trustees. 
 
 At the very outset, Barnard had adroitly chosen to 
 assume that the request of the Trustees, positive as its 
 language appeared to be, could not have been intended 
 as an order from the Trustees to the Faculty, but must 
 rather be regarded as the expression of an opinion, 
 founded on prima facie evidence, and submitted to the 
 Faculty for its consideration. He took it for granted 
 that the Trustees must desire to hear whatever further 
 evidence or argument the Faculty might have to lay 
 before them, and that they would feel themselves bound 
 to reconsider the whole subject, as thus more fully pre- 
 sented, in a judicially impartial spirit. He admitted that 
 if general dissatisfaction with the methods of the Uni- 
 versity existed, those methods must be changed. He did 
 not deny that some changes might be necessary. The 
 members of the Faculty themselves had long felt that 
 one change was necessary; not, however, in the pro- 
 posed direction, but because, in their desire to comply 
 with all possible demands, the curriculum of the Uni- 
 versity had been extended until, in common with the 
 faculties of other colleges, they had found themselves 
 face to face with two evils, the overtasking of the 
 students on the one hand, and superficial teaching on 
 the other. But they were not prepared to recommend, 
 and they did not believe that the community in general 
 desired, a complete subversion of the whole system pur- 
 sued at the University, or the substitution, instead of it, of 
 so loose a system as had lately been proposed. If there 
 was any such general desire, the members of the Faculty, 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 173 
 
 in mingling with their fellow-citizens, had not encountered 
 it. They had not had it mentioned to them in a some- 
 what extensive correspondence with representative men 
 of the State. If the sentiment of the people might be 
 inferred from the comments of the press, then the general 
 sentiment must be entirely one of satisfaction, since not 
 one journal in the State had expressed any other sentiment 
 on this subject during the past twelve months. In short, 
 while they had heard complaints of various kinds from 
 time to time, and particularly of the overloading of the 
 college course, which they themselves felt to be an evil, 
 they had never received from any source the slightest 
 suggestion of the propriety of any sweeping change, nor, 
 certainly, of the adoption of the supposed system of the 
 University of Virginia, until the subject had been referred 
 to them in the communication of the Board of Trustees. 
 They were, therefore, constrained to believe that no 
 general demand existed for the change which was now 
 proposed. 
 
 Replying to the argument that the public must be 
 dissatisfied with the system of the University since the 
 number of students committed to its training was com- 
 paratively small, it was said that in the circumstances 
 of the State and the University, the number could not 
 reasonably be expected to be large. The State was new. 
 Its citizens were engaged in subduing nature to the use 
 of man, and the higher education did not yet engage 
 their interest or attention as it would after a generation 
 or two should have passed away. The more enlightened 
 citizens, who had themselves enjoyed superior educational 
 advantages, had old associations with institutions in 
 other States. They were therefore naturally inclined 
 to send their sons to those institutions in preference 
 to the University of their own State, while no such 
 
174 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 influences could yet be expected to draw students from 
 other States. Besides, there had sprung up in different 
 parts of the State a number of denominational colleges 
 which claimed and received the support of different 
 religious bodies on religious grounds, thus withdrawing 
 from the non-sectarian University of the State many 
 youths who would otherwise have been enrolled among 
 its alumni. On the other hand, while the University, 
 as a recent institution, had its traditional attachments 
 yet to create, while it could not yet hope to attract stu- 
 dents from beyond the State, and while it was crippled 
 by the rivalry of sectarian institutions, it had deliberately 
 and advisedly adopted a standard of scholarship which 
 repelled many who might have been attracted to it by 
 easier conditions of entrance and graduation. The 
 Faculty had been charged with greater severity in this 
 respect than was practised in any other college in the 
 Southwestern States; but however that might be, they 
 had secured to their own institution at least the respect 
 of the community and of other institutions of learning 
 throughout the country. That their policy had cost 
 them much in the matter of numbers was undoubtedly 
 true ; but they had not felt that larger numbers could 
 be wisely gained at the cost of lowering their standard 
 of sound scholarship. 
 
 Notwithstanding all these drawbacks, if the Trustees 
 would remember that so new an institution must expect 
 to draw its students almost exclusively from within 
 the limits of the State, and if they would compare it 
 fairly in point of numbers with other State institutions 
 of learning, they would find the comparison to be reas- 
 suring. Virginia, for example, with a population of 
 894,800 in 1850, had sent only 163 of her own sons to the 
 Department of Arts in the University at Charlottesville, 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 175 
 
 while Alabama, with a population of 426,514, had sent 
 98 youths from within her borders to the University 
 at Tuskaloosa. Thus, in proportion to population, the 
 University of Alabama equalled the University of Vir- 
 ginia in the number of its native students, and had 
 21 to spare ; or, in other words, the University of 
 Virginia lacked 46 of being equal to the University 
 of Alabama in that respect ! Still further, if compared 
 with the general average of colleges throughout the 
 country, the University of Alabama, young as it was, 
 held a fairly high rank even in point of numbers. Of 
 121 colleges reported in the American Almanac for 
 1850, 78 had a smaller number of students, and only 
 38 had more ; and in a document presented to the 
 Board of Education in the City of New York, 1851, 
 it appeared that of 53 colleges, including the oldest 
 and best endowed institutions of the country, only 
 26 had more, while 26 had fewer students than the 
 University of Alabama. Having thus disposed of the 
 allegation that the disapprobation of the community 
 had been silently but practically expressed by with- 
 holding their sons from the University, the Report con- 
 tended that "numbers alone constitute, in general, the 
 most trifling and shadowy and insignificant evidence 
 of excellence in a school that can be adduced " ; and 
 that "if a seminary is young, and is situated in a new 
 country, and only nominally exacts some slight intel- 
 lectual training as a condition of membership, great 
 numbers, suddenly collected, will furnish an ominous 
 indication of the fidelity of its administration." 
 
 The Report next proceeded to show that two entirely 
 different schemes were proposed under the demand for 
 an adoption of the system of the University of Virginia. 
 Not one in twenty of the people understood what that 
 
176 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 system really was. Some supposed it to mean nothing 
 more than the admission of students to particular classes 
 or courses in the college curriculum, without subjecting 
 them to the necessity of pursuing the entire curriculum ; 
 others, while they did not object to that curriculum for 
 students who desired it, supposed that under the Vir- 
 ginia system all students would have an equal right to 
 select, and that the Faculty would be bound to provide, 
 any curriculum of studies they might think proper to 
 devise. On the former understanding, the Virginia 
 system would seriously embarrass the existing college 
 arrangements and would not be practically satisfactory 
 to those who asked it ; on the latter, it would be abso- 
 lutely impracticable with the means at the disposal of 
 the Faculty. 
 
 If students were to be admitted to single classes or 
 courses, the disadvantage to the college would lie chiefly 
 in the aggravation of one of its greatest difficulties, 
 which was the insufficient preparation of students at 
 their entry. It was not only that nearly all students 
 in American colleges are inadequately prepared for the 
 particular studies they are to pursue, but that their previ- 
 ous mental training has usually been either superficial or 
 positively vicious. In students entering for particular 
 classes this difficulty would be exaggerated, since they 
 would not generally have had the benefit even of such 
 mental training as is enjoyed by those who have made 
 any serious preparation for the regular college course. 
 Hence such students would find themselves heavily 
 handicapped in the classes or courses they might choose 
 to enter; their incapacity would retard the progress 
 of the classes ; and they would be hindered, rather than 
 helped, in their special studies by the necessity of con- 
 forming to the class arrangements of the University. 
 

 FREDERICK A, P. BARNARD 177 
 
 They would be compelled, willingly or unwillingly, to 
 a routine which had not been prescribed with a view 
 to their peculiar requirements, and those who desired to 
 pursue only one or two branches of study would be 
 obliged, so far as the system of the University went, 
 to waste one -half or two-thirds of their time for the 
 sake of such instruction as they might receive in those 
 branches. An experiment in this direction had already 
 been made by the University in 1831 by the provision 
 of what was called a partial course system. If the 
 statute, as it was printed by the Board in 1837, were 
 revived, it would require very slight modification to 
 make it conform precisely to the plan of the University 
 of Virginia. Its language was as follows : " The Uni- 
 versity shall be open to persons who do not desire to 
 take the full course and to be graduated as Bachelors 
 of Arts, but who desire to take a partial course and be 
 graduated in particular departments only ; provided they 
 are found qualified for the studies of that department 
 which they wish to join; and provided they take not 
 less than the usual number of departments." This ex- 
 periment had not been crowned with success. It dif- 
 fered hardly at all from the plan of the University of 
 Virginia, except in withholding the degrees of Bachelor 
 and Master of Arts from students of the voluntary 
 courses ; but its effect had been immediately and disas- 
 trously apparent. The preparation of the partial course 
 students for their several departments was meagre; the 
 general standard of attainment was lowered; habits of 
 idleness and vice were formed, and at length a spirit 
 of uncontrollable insubordination appeared among the 
 students. The disasters which befell the institution in 
 those earlier years had been attributable in part to the 
 mismanagement of its officers, but there could be no 
 
 N 
 
178 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 doubt that they were also and largely due to the system 
 which the officers had been required to carry out. If the 
 same system were now to be revived and extended by 
 the opening of single classes as well as departments to 
 partial course students, a repetition of the same disorder 
 might safely be predicted. 
 
 Much more might confusion be anticipated if every 
 student were to be allowed to study "what he chose, 
 all that he chose, and nothing that he did not choose." 
 The sure result of such a system would be the annihila- 
 tion of all system, and with it of all genuine study. A 
 single institution like the college could not fulfil its own 
 peculiar functions and at the same time provide profes- 
 sional, scientific, and technical instruction. The Faculty 
 did not deny that such instruction might be needed. 
 They were by no means opposed to the establishment 
 of institutions for imparting it. If such institutions 
 were required, by all means let them be created. If 
 the demand for the instruction which such institutions 
 could alone supply was really general and sincere, the 
 means for establishing and maintaining them would 
 surely be forthcoming ; private enterprise would not 
 fail to provide them; " for schools, to which hundreds 
 are waiting to resort so soon as their doors shall be 
 opened, can never fail to be eminently lucrative, merely 
 as pecuniary investments. If, then, the demand be real, 
 there exists not the slightest necessity for the University 
 to supply it." The Faculty maintained that it was not 
 possible, even in a physical sense, for the University to 
 supply it, unless there should be an increase of the teach- 
 ing staff commensurate with the proposed increase of 
 labor ; but they observed that with the same expense 
 which would be involved in so great an increase of the 
 number of teachers, it would be possible to organize pro- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 179 
 
 fessional and technical schools, and so to supply all that 
 was desired, without disorganizing the college. 
 
 It was often said that German universities offered 
 opportunities of instruction in all departments of knowl- 
 edge, and that was true. But German universities were 
 very expensive establishments, with large corps of pro- 
 fessors ; and, in a country where scholars are numbered 
 by tens of thousands, professors had sometimes classes 
 of two or three students, and sometimes no classes at all. 
 The German universities did not correspond with the 
 American colleges ; they were professional schools. In 
 Halle, for example, out of eleven hundred students, all 
 but sixty were engaged in the study of theology, law, 
 and medicine. The German institution which really 
 corresponded with the American college was the Gymna- 
 sium, in which the classical, mathematical, and scientific 
 course is often fuller, and is in some respects more 
 thorough, than the course pursued in American colleges. 
 
 No argument, therefore [said the Eeport], can be drawn 
 from the educational institutions of Germany to ours, or, if 
 such a one should be attempted, it ought to be for the creation 
 of a new and higher description of schools, to which none but 
 those who have completed the usual course of college study 
 should be admitted, rather than for the conversion of our 
 existing colleges into what in Germany would be mere non- 
 descripts, having the form of the University and the grade of 
 the Gymnasium. 
 
 In the opinion of the Faculty, the demand for an 
 "open" system of instruction in colleges did not "pro- 
 ceed from a genuine desire for special or partial instruc- 
 tion, but simply and solely from the ambition to obtain 
 the college stamp of scholarship, without submitting to 
 that severe and systematic intellectual training which 
 
180 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 alone can make the scholar." Moreover, they believed 
 it to have been practically proved that "in the mass of 
 the community there is, after all, too much good sense, 
 and too true a discrimination between pretence and real- 
 ity, to accept the dispensation when it is offered." Thus, 
 the University of Virginia itself, prosperous as it seemed 
 on a first glance at its catalogue, enjoyed a very moder- 
 ate prosperity in its Department of Arts. If it were as 
 highly esteemed by the citizens of Virginia as the Col- 
 lege of South Carolina (under the regular system) was 
 esteemed by the citizens of that State, the number of 
 young Virginians studying under the Faculty of Arts 
 would be 632, and not 163, as it now was. Two other 
 institutions in Virginia had made the attempt to rival 
 or surpass the State institution in the attraction of 
 "open" courses. In making that attempt, Washington 
 College, possessing, as it did, an ample endowment, had 
 no object but to increase the number of its students, and 
 so to render itself more useful to the citizens of the 
 State. It endeavored, in all good faith, to accommodate 
 its instructions to the various demands of learners, freely 
 permitting each of them "to study what he chose, all 
 that he chose, and nothing that he did not choose." 
 The result, as told by Dr. Manly, was instructive. The 
 College 
 
 soon found that, on the new plan, its accustomed work had 
 swelled into an intolerable burden. With the same number 
 of officers as before, and with no great increase of students, the 
 voluntary plan had so multiplied sections and subdivisions of 
 students as to impose on some of the officers the necessity 
 of hearing recitations incessantly, from morning till night. 
 These small squads, having no definite amount of labor to per- 
 form in a given time, and wanting the stimulus of numbers, 
 a serious want, dragged heavily through their work. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 181 
 
 After a trial of three or four years, the experiment was 
 abandoned, and everything "was restored to its original 
 organization." In a similar experiment, Randolph Macon 
 College had had no better fortune. The plan had a pop- 
 ular aspect ; the officers, who were men of experience, 
 entered on its administration with an honest purpose and 
 with the zeal belonging to a new denominational enter- 
 prise ; but before the end of two years, their affairs had 
 run into great confusion. The influence of degrees in 
 attracting students to colleges permitting " open " courses 
 had been shown by other significant experiments. In the 
 University of Georgia, where the " open " course was per- 
 mitted, but no degree was conferred on a student who 
 adopted it, the average number of students who availed 
 themselves of the privilege was only four or five out of a 
 total number of about 140. In the University of Roches- 
 ter, in 1853-4, under a similar arrangement, and with a 
 similar restriction as to degrees, there were only eleven 
 out of a total of 118, and of the eleven only four advanced 
 beyond a single year. In Union College, however, where 
 substantially the same system existed as at Rochester, 
 with the sole exception that it provided for the granting 
 of degrees to open-course students, there were 57 students 
 of that class out of a total number of 241 undergraduates. 
 
 If, the Report continued, the frequent demand for special 
 or optional courses of study were sincere, it would exhibit 
 itself in an effort to provide institutions of the kind pro- 
 fessedly desired, and not in an effort to procure a modifi- 
 cation of the college system. What was really desired 
 was to obtain from colleges and universities the honor of 
 degrees which those institutions were alone empowered 
 to confer, and to obtain them on easy terms. For that 
 reason the Faculty felt bound to resist an encroachment 
 which would tend only to the degradation of colleges by 
 
182 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 cheapening their degrees so as to make them worthless. 
 The granting of degrees is the peculiar function of a 
 university. In the discharge of that function it does all 
 that is indispensable to its office. The University of 
 London, for example, employed salaried examiners, who 
 had no other duty than that of examining candidates 
 for degrees, and at the present time the University did 
 nothing else than grant degrees on the report of its 
 examiners. 
 
 The early history of all the old universities of England and 
 of the Continent of Europe shows that, while they certainly 
 furnished instruction, and their instructors were exceedingly 
 numerous, the only recognized point of contact between the 
 university, as a body, and the individual student was that in 
 which the latter presented himself as a candidate for gradua- 
 tion. The value of the degree conferred consisted, of course, 
 as it does still, in the fact that it stamped the graduate as a 
 scholar a man well versed in what were called the Liberal 
 Arts, and in Philosophy. Where or how he might have 
 attained the mastery of these subjects, mattered not; if the 
 candidate, on the application of certain severe tests of his 
 scholarship and knowledge, was found to be worthy of the 
 degree, it was awarded to him as a matter of right. These 
 tests were examinations, extended and thorough, oral and 
 written. 
 
 In the older universities it used to be held that education 
 is not complete until the student has been disciplined not only 
 in receiving but imparting knowledge. Every Bachelor of 
 Arts was required to teach certain books or subjects in order 
 that he might become a Master ; and, as Sir William Hamilton 
 has said, " every Master or Doctor was compelled by statute, 
 and frequently on oath, to teach for a certain period, which 
 was commonly two years, immediately subsequent to gradua- 
 tion." In consequence of this requirement, the necessary in- 
 struction preparatory to an application for graduation, though 
 it might be acquired in any school whatever, was usually 
 obtained with most convenience in the University towns, 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 183 
 
 where colleges were endowed for the support and residence 
 of poor students, while boarding-houses, called halls, were 
 established for those who were able to pay for their mainte- 
 nance. Each of these colleges and halls was subject to the 
 government of a resident Master, assisted by one or more 
 tutors. At first the proper business of the tutors was mainly 
 to look after the conduct of the pupils ; but in the progress of 
 time they have become almost exclusively the teachers of the 
 undergraduates in all the studies required to fit them for the 
 University examinations. 
 
 Since graduation in the English universities depends strictly 
 upon the results of examination, and not upon a prescribed 
 routine of daily studies, it might appear that the student 
 should be subject to no control in regard to the order in which 
 he may pursue his studies. But it is a manifest necessity that 
 there should be some established standard by which the at- 
 tainments of candidates for degrees may be tested; and such 
 a standard can be intelligible and definite only when presented 
 in the form of a prescribed series of books of which the con- 
 tents are to be perfectly mastered. This reduces the business 
 of University instruction to the inculcation, for purposes of 
 education, of the substance of certain special treatises of 
 science or philosophy, and certain particular works of ancient 
 and modern literature. Thus is established what is called the 
 college curriculum of study. 
 
 As the original design for which the academic honor of 
 graduation was instituted was to distinguish those who had 
 submitted to a thorough course of intellectual training, the 
 curriculum of study embraced matters which were designed to 
 exercise all the faculties of the human mind, in due and 
 symmetrical proportion. The Seven Liberal Arts, as they 
 were called, received this name because they were believed to 
 be suitable to furnish this training. They were distinguished 
 from the arts of handicraft the Mechanic Arts on the one 
 hand, and from the arts of embellishment the Fine Arts 
 on the other. They are fitted in their several ways to induce 
 those intellectual habits without which nothing valuable can 
 ever be accomplished in the world of mind, and to furnish that 
 exercise which is as necessary to the development of mental as 
 
184 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of physical vigor. The pursuit of Mathematics forms habits 
 of close and concentrated attention and develops the power of 
 following out a continuous and extended train of thought. The 
 study of Language invigorates the memory, imparts a facility 
 in delicate discriminations, multiplies ideas, improves the 
 power of expression, and gives increased command of the 
 instrument by which mind mainly influences mind. The sys- 
 tematic exercise of the reason is brought into play in the 
 study of Dialectics, in which the learner is taught to apply the 
 touch-stone of logic to argument, to distinguish sound reasoning 
 from sophistry, to arrange the materials of a discussion and 
 to present truths of inference in the most impressive form. 
 Rhetoric stimulates the invention by demanding what con- 
 siderations may be alleged in support of specific propositions ; 
 it disciplines the judgment by calling upon it to decide nice 
 questions of the propriety of language; it cultivates the 
 imagination by exercising it in the embellishments of figura- 
 tive expression; and it trains the taste to control the exu- 
 berance of a fancy which might be too apt, if unrestrained, 
 to run into riotous extravagance. Natural Philosophy, in its 
 various branches furnishes numerous examples of reasoning 
 from induction, or inferring truth from probable evidence. 
 Moral Philosophy is a continuous and improving application of 
 the principles of logic to questions which concern the conscience ; 
 and its cultivation is calculated not only to quicken and 
 improve the judgment in matters of abstract truth, but also to 
 establish principles in place of feeling as the guide of action. 
 The Philosophy of Mind, the science of self-knowledge, opens up 
 a world vast as that of matter and impalpable as the thinking 
 essence itself. " Philosophy," says Sir William Hamilton, " the 
 thinking of thought, the recoil of mind upon itself, is one of 
 the most improving of mental exercises, conducing, above all 
 others, to evolve the highest and rarest of the intellectual 
 powers. By this the mind is not only trained to philosophy 
 proper, but prepared in general for powerful, easy, and suc- 
 cessful energy in whatever department of knowledge it may 
 more peculiarly apply itself." Thus, every study throughout 
 the entire range of the liberal arts and the philosophies has its 
 peculiar use and value in drawing into activity and cherishing 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 185 
 
 into vigor the various powers and faculties of the human mind. 
 When all are combined in due proportion in a system of 
 intellectual training, the pupil emerges from the discipline 
 with a mind well balanced, and fitted to grapple with what- 
 ever difficulty. Should he now direct his energies, as men 
 usually do, into some one particular channel, a one-sided 
 development will not make him a giant within the domain of 
 his chosen profession and a pigmy without. In his special 
 pursuit he may attain eminence with much or with little labor, 
 but it will not be at the expense of disqualifying himself for 
 intelligent intercourse with men of every other class. Men 
 possessed of these advantages, that is, men of thorough educa- 
 tion, will always be comparatively few. The majority either 
 can not or will not submit to the long, steady, and even pain- 
 ful discipline it demands. To denounce the colleges because 
 they can only educate their tens, while hundreds can not, or 
 will not, submit to their intellectual regimen, is clearly unjust ; 
 and to lower the conditions on which their degrees are granted, 
 in order that certificates of accomplished scholarship may be 
 conferred on persons who are not scholars, must certainly im- 
 pair the usefulness of colleges and bring academic degrees into 
 contempt, but cannot make an uneducated graduate worthy of 
 the degree he wears. 
 
 The Report replied at some length and with some acer- 
 bity to the frequently reiterated assertion that a college 
 education does not furnish a fit preparation for practical 
 life, since the knowledge which it imparts to the student 
 is not practically available in the affairs of life. The 
 Faculty contended that there could be no better prepara- 
 tion for the business of life than an education which trains 
 every power of the mind for the uses to which it is after- 
 wards to be applied, and that man who enjoys the com- 
 plete use of every intellectual power with which he is 
 endowed must have an immense advantage over another 
 man whose powers have not been trained to be obedient 
 to his command. They did not admit that the knowledge 
 
186 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 acquired in an academic education, even if considered 
 only as knowledge, is of no value in practical affairs. 
 They maintained the contrary with energy; but they 
 insisted that the object of such an education is not the 
 acquisition of knowledge which may be turned to account 
 in the common affairs of life, but rather a complete train- 
 ing and exercise of the powers which are to be used 
 through life. On this point they took the very highest 
 ground. They maintained with Sir William Hamilton 
 that when man is considered as he ought to be con- 
 sidered, that is, as an end to himself, 
 
 knowledge is only valuable as it exercises, develops, and 
 invigorates the mind; so that a university, in its liberal 
 faculty, should especially prefer those objects of study which 
 call forth the strongest and most unexclusive energy of thought, 
 aud so teach them, too, that this energy shall be most fully 
 elicited in the student. For speculative knowledge, of whatever 
 kind, is only profitable to the student in his liberal culti- 
 vation, inasmuch as it supplies him with the object and occa- 
 sion of exerting his faculties ; since powers are only developed 
 in proportion as they are exercised, that is, put forth into 
 energy. The mere possession of scientific truths is, for its 
 own sake, valueless ; and education is only education inas- 
 much as it at once determines and enables the student to 
 educate himself. 
 
 Hence the Faculty concurred in the conviction of President 
 Thornwell of South Carolina that in laying out the cur- 
 riculum of a sound college course "the selection of studies 
 must be made, not with reference to the comparative 
 importance of their matter or the practical value of the 
 knowledge, but with reference to their influence in unfold- 
 ing and strengthening the powers of the mind." This 
 conviction they agreed with Dr. Thornwell in pushing 
 to its extreme conclusion that 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 187 
 
 the introduction of studies on the ground of their practical 
 utility is, pro tanto, subversive of the college. It is not the 
 office of the college to make planters, mechanics, lawyers, 
 physicians, or divines. It has nothing directly to do with the 
 uses of knowledge. Its business is with minds, and it employs 
 science only as an instrument for the improvement and per- 
 fection of mind. With it, the habit of sound thinking is more 
 than a thousand thoughts. When, therefore, the question is 
 asked, as it is often asked, What is the use of certain parts of 
 the college curriculum ? the answer should turn, not upon the 
 benefits which, in after life, may be reaped from those pur- 
 suits, but upon their immediate subjective influence upon the 
 cultivation of the human faculties. 
 
 On these grounds they agreed with Dr. Thornwell's judg- 
 ment that the admission of " partial-course students " to 
 college classes would be inconsistent with the fundamen- 
 tal aim of a college. 
 
 These students, he said, are not seeking knowledge for 
 the sake of discipline, but with reference to ulterior uses. 
 They come, not to be trained to think, but to learn to act in 
 certain definite departments of exertion. It is professional, 
 not liberal, education that they want. The want, I acknowl- 
 edge, should be gratified; it is a demand which should be 
 supplied. But the college is not the place to do it. That 
 was founded for other purposes, and it is simply preposterous 
 to abrogate its constitution out of concession to a necessity, 
 because the necessity happens to be real. What, therefore, 
 ought to be done is, not to change the nature of the college, 
 but, leaving that untouched to do its own work, to organize 
 schools with special reference to this class of wants. 
 
 It was a neglect of these principles, which the Faculty 
 enforced by numerous quotations from distinguished edu- 
 cators, that had led to an incessant overloading of the 
 college course. It had been almost impossible to avoid 
 the innovation. 
 
188 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 With the present century [as Dr. Wayland had put it], a 
 new era dawned upon the world. A host of new sciences 
 arose, all holding important relations to the progress of civili- 
 zation. Here was a whole people in an entirely novel posi- 
 tion. Almost the whole nation was able to read. Mind had 
 been quickened to intense energy by the events of the Revolu- 
 tion. The spirit of self-reliance had gained strength by the 
 result of that contest. A country rich in every form of capa- 
 bility had just come into their possession. Its wealth was 
 inexhaustible, and its adaptation to the production of most of 
 the great staples of commerce was unsurpassed. All that was 
 needed to develop its resources was well-directed labor. But 
 labor can be skilfully directed only by science; and the 
 sciences now coming into notice were precisely those which the 
 condition of the country rendered indispensable to success. 
 That such a people could be satisfied with the teaching of 
 Greek, Latin, and the elements of the mathematics, was plainly 
 impossible. 
 
 Unfortunately, however, instead of founding schools 
 of technical education to supply the technical and scien- 
 tific instruction which the circumstances of the country 
 required, the public demanded that the colleges, without 
 encroaching on their former curriculum of studies, and 
 without extending the period of instruction, should add 
 science after science to the college course as fast as the 
 pressure from without seemed to require it. By their 
 general compliance with this demand, the colleges them- 
 selves had done much to withdraw public attention from 
 the true and fundamental object of collegiate education ; 
 and the overloading of the course had made more than 
 a superficial study of the sciences merely impossible. Dr. 
 Wayland had calculated that the average length of time 
 which could be devoted to each several subject of study 
 in American colleges, apart from Latin and Greek, was 
 but a fraction over six weeks ! Hence a new cause of 
 dissatisfaction had arisen, and the colleges had found 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 189 
 
 that in their attempt to subordinate their own proper 
 function to the supplying of " practical " (that is, scien- 
 tific, technical, and professional) instruction, they had 
 justly subjected themselves to general distrust, since it 
 was clearly impossible for them, in the time at their dis- 
 posal, thoroughly to teach the many subjects which they 
 professed to teach. 
 
 In view of all that had been said, the Faculty recom- 
 mended that, if any reorganization of the plan of instruc- 
 tion were to be made, it should include the following 
 particulars : 
 
 1. To prescribe a definite curriculum of study, de- 
 signed as a mental discipline and extending over four 
 years, to which all regular candidates for graduation 
 should be obliged to conform. This curriculum to in- 
 clude only those branches of study, or certainly very few 
 besides those, which, by the consent of the learned in all 
 ages, are entitled to be regarded as the best instruments 
 for evolving and exercising the powers of the mind; and 
 no study to be introduced into the first two years which 
 should not be obligatory on all the students. 
 
 2. The Faculty, at the proper time, to select from the 
 remaining, or elective, group of studies, such as should 
 seem to them best fitted to the intellectual wants of each 
 student, as ascertained by observation of his mental hab- 
 its and attainments during the first two years; and to 
 provide for his instruction in these, without requiring 
 him to take the rest of that group. 
 
 3. To refer to the elective group of studies, 
 
 a. Such as deal principally with facts of observation; 
 including all the branches of natural history, and also 
 geology, mineralogy, physiology, meteorology, and possibly 
 a second course of chemistry. 
 
 b. Such as require a peculiar aptitude for their sue- 
 
190 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 cessful prosecution ; including all the branches of the 
 mathematics which rest upon the algebraic or symbolic 
 method (elementary algebra excepted), and embracing in 
 the existing course algebra applied to geometry, analyti- 
 cal geometry, and the calculus, differential and integral; 
 to which might be added spherical trigonometry. 
 
 c. The study of the languages, ancient or modern, be- 
 yond the limit prescribed in the obligatory course. 
 
 The Faculty entered into no argument concerning the 
 distinction they had thus made between the subjects 
 with which the regular curriculum had been overloaded, 
 further than to say that the obligatory studies would still 
 be such as are universally regarded as furnishing the best 
 discipline for the mind, and such as are indispensable to 
 a man of liberal education. As to the elective studies 
 they remarked that it was admitted to be impossible for a 
 student, devoting only the short space of a few weeks to 
 each of them, to become really proficient in all, or perhaps 
 in any; so that in the plan proposed there would simply 
 be an elimination of studies in which he could not be 
 proficient, so as to leave time for a successful prosecution 
 of the rest. The Report closed with an earnest recom- 
 mendation, enforced by considerable argument, that the 
 grade of scholarship in the University " should depend, to 
 a degree almost exclusive of every other test, upon periodi- 
 cal and final examinations, and very little, if at all, upon 
 the record of daily recitations." 
 
 As might have been expected, the action of the Board 
 of Trustees was a compromise between the two extreme 
 propositions which were now before them. On the one 
 hand, students were not allowed to "study what they 
 pleased, all that they pleased, and nothing that they did 
 not please," nor were the Faculty required to perform 
 impossibilities. Partial course students were admitted, 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 191 
 
 but on conditions which subjected their studies to the 
 control of the Faculty, and prevented the opportunity of 
 idleness. Certificates of graduation in particular depart- 
 ments of study were provided for, but the degree of 
 Bachelor was stringently confined to those who should 
 complete the entire collegiate course. On the other hand, 
 the proposal of the Faculty to eliminate certain studies 
 from the regular course, by classing them as elective 
 studies, which might, or might not, be pursued by partic- 
 ular students at the discretion of the Faculty, was not 
 approved. In short, the existing curriculum of the Uni- 
 versity of Alabama remained unchanged, and the conces- 
 sion made to Governor Collier's party was merely formal. 
 It is probable that this result was satisfactory to the 
 Faculty, who had really desired no change, and who had 
 deprecated the adoption of the much misunderstood sys- 
 tem of the University of Virginia because an adoption of 
 that system, as it was popularly understood, would, in 
 their opinion, be destructive of the existing system. 
 They had probably not expected their own alternative 
 proposal to be seriously entertained, but thought it well to 
 put it forward to illustrate a view of the existing college 
 curriculum which would serve to emphasize the great 
 danger of the movement they felt bound to oppose. It 
 served its purpose in that way, and it also made it easier 
 for the Board of Trustees to deny by far the greater part 
 of what had been demanded by Governor Collier's party, 
 since it enabled the Trustees to say that they had, at the 
 same time, rejected a proposal of the Faculty. In other 
 words, while the proposal of the Faculty was intrinsically 
 worthy of grave consideration, its practical use in the 
 controversy was to serve as a tub to the popular whale. 
 
 It has been said that the Report above considered was 
 prepared under somewhat serious disadvantages. The 
 
192 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 action of the Board of Trustees to which it was a response 
 had been taken on the 12th day of July, and had been 
 immediately referred by the Faculty to the Committee 
 of which Barnard was chairman, with instructions to 
 submit the draft of a report on the 18th of September 
 following. These instructions were obeyed ; but in the 
 meantime Barnard had been absent from the State, and 
 had been engaged in conferences and negotiations which 
 resulted in his removal to a new field of labor. 
 
 The two chairs of Physics and Chemistry had become 
 vacant in the recently established University of Missis- 
 sippi. Barnard had been urged by a member of the 
 Faculty of that institution to become a candidate for one 
 of them, but had positively declined. The rector of the 
 Episcopal Church in Tuskaloosa, however, being involved 
 in an unpleasant controversy with his vestry, and desir- 
 ing to return to the work of teaching in which he had 
 formerly been engaged, resolved to be a candidate for the 
 chair of Chemistry, and thought it judicious to visit 
 Oxford, the seat of the Mississippi University, at the 
 time appointed for the election. He invited Barnard, who 
 had been his devoted friend and champion in his church 
 troubles, to accompany him on his excursion, and Barnard 
 complied. Between Oxford and Tuskaloosa there was 
 no direct communication either by rail or by water. The 
 trip was therefore made by carriage. Two short stops were 
 made at Columbus on the Tombigbee and at Waverley, 
 a neighboring landing on the same river. At the former 
 place they met Colonel S M. Meek, an alumnus of the 
 University at Tuskaloosa , at Waverley they were guests 
 of Colonel George Young, a leading trustee of the Uni- 
 versity at Oxford. Both of these gentlemen strongly 
 recommended that Barnard should become a candidate 
 for one of the vacant chairs at Oxford, but he continued 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 193 
 
 resolute in his determination to remain in Alabama. On 
 their arrival at Oxford they found the Board in session. 
 The President of the Board was Colonel Jacob Thompson, 
 afterwards Secretary of the Interior under President 
 Buchanan ; the President of the University was the Hon. 
 A. B. Longstreet, an uncle of the famous Confederate 
 General Longstreet. Barnard's reputation appeared to 
 be well known to the Trustees, and several of them asked 
 him to permit them to present his name as a candidate. 
 As he had held the chair of Chemistry at Tuskaloosa for 
 six years, they naturally desired to elect him to the same 
 chair in their institution ; but he absolutely refused to be 
 a competitor against his friend, the Rev. Mr. Johnson. 
 Under much pressure, he was induced to say that he 
 would accept the chair of Mathematics and Physics, and 
 he then learned for the first time that Professor Hill, a 
 distinguished native of Mississippi and afterwards one 
 of the two Confederate generals of that name, was a can- 
 didate for that chair. The Board spent several days in 
 conference before proceeding to an election. Barnard 
 was elected to the chair of Chemistry, which he had 
 declined in advance. On receiving an official notification 
 of the action of the Board, he promptly replied, express- 
 ing his thanks to the Board, but positively refusing the 
 appointment. In truth, he felt much relieved at the issue 
 of a negotiation which he had in no way invited, and 
 had not desired. His interests and affections were still 
 with the University of Alabama, and he had no desire 
 to leave it. There, his position was already assured by 
 a continuous service of many years ; in Mississippi he 
 would have to form new associations and participate in 
 the difficult work of establishing a university system 
 in an untried field. He had been overpersuaded to con- 
 sent to accept any position at Oxford, and he congratu- 
 
194 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 lated himself that the action of the Board had released him 
 from his pledge. His satisfaction was of short duration. 
 In less than half an hour after he had returned his answer 
 to the Board, the clerk of that body returned with the 
 announcement that he had been elected to the chair of 
 Mathematics and Natural Philosophy, a position which 
 he had pledged himself to accept. He accepted it accord- 
 ingly; and without delay, but with a heavy heart, he set 
 out with his friend Johnson on their homeward journey. 
 Johnson, too, was disappointed, but he bore his disap- 
 pointment better than Barnard bore his new honors. 
 The University election was a subject of interest all along 
 the road, and when they had sat down to their evening 
 meal at their first stopping-place, Barnard, after vainly try- 
 ing to eat, rose and left the table. The kindly landlady of 
 the hostelry said to Johnson, "Your friend seems to be un- 
 well. I fear he has been unsuccessful at Oxford." "No, 
 madam," said Johnson, "he is sick because he has suc- 
 ceeded." When they reached Tuskaloosa, Barnard found 
 it no easy task to tell Mrs. Barnard of the change which 
 must now be made. She was much distressed, for she 
 had been very happy in Tuskaloosa, and she had a strong 
 aversion to Mississippi as a "repudiating State"; but 
 when he explained what had occurred, and told her that 
 his honor was so pledged that he could not now retreat 
 from his engagement, she desisted from her remon- 
 strances. " I will do the best I can," she said, " but if I 
 had children to bring up, I would never take them to a 
 repudiating State." Thenceforward she expressed no 
 aversion to the change and no regret after it had been 
 made. 
 
 These events had occurred about the beginning of Sep- 
 tember, and as the next session of the University at Oxford 
 was to begin early in October, Barnard had little time in 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 195 
 
 which to wind up his affairs in Tuskaloosa and remove to 
 his new home. In this short space, however, it seemed 
 desirable that his ordination as a deacon should take place. 
 A somewhat amusing incident was connected with that 
 service, of which Barnard himself has given the following 
 account : 
 
 Bishop Cobbs resided in Montgomery, and I desired to be 
 ordained by him before leaving his diocese. He made an ap- 
 pointment to meet me at Selma, fifty miles below Montgomery 
 on the Alabama Biver, and about ninety miles from Tuskaloosa. 
 I reached Selma by appointment, but in advance of the Bishop. 
 Next day he arrived, accompanied by a presbyter to assist in 
 the examination ; but here we encountered a singular difficulty. 
 The yellow fever had recently appeared at Mobile and also at 
 Montgomery. Selma had been spared, and the municipal au- 
 thorities had adopted an ordinance providing that any person 
 arriving from an infected place should be compelled to depart 
 forthwith. The Bishop and his companion were immediately 
 served with a notice to leave. Our whole party prepared to 
 drive to the neighboring town of Cahaba ; but before our car- 
 riages could be got ready, the absurdity of the thing seemed to 
 strike the people of the place, and they declared that the Bishop 
 of the diocese should not be driven out of the town. On the 
 next Sunday I received my first orders and preached my first 
 sermon. Eeturning to Tuskaloosa, I preached twice, but, oddly 
 enough, I was not permitted to preach in the parish church. 
 The Vestry, who had arbitrarily dismissed the rector, Mr. 
 Johnson, against the public protest of a large majority of the 
 congregation and without consulting any diocesan authority, 
 had now locked him out of the church. He therefore continued 
 to hold services in the large hall of a building which had been 
 used as a boarding school, and in that hall I preached on the 
 second Sunday after my ordination. There were many diffi- 
 culties attending our removal to Oxford. We had to drive 
 there, of course ; and on the very evening before we were to 
 start, a valuable horse that I had had for several years took 
 suddenly ill and died. My books and furniture had to be sent 
 by a very roundabout way, first down the river four hundred 
 
196 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 miles to Mobile, thence by sea two hundred miles to New 
 Orleans, thence up the Mississippi five hundred miles to Mem- 
 phis, and then sixty miles by wagon to Oxford. We made our 
 trip without accident; but at the places where we stopped it 
 was not encouraging to me to hear the professor whose place I 
 was to fill constantly mentioned as a man whose loss to the 
 University was simply irreparable. I entered on my new posi- 
 tion with a feeling of sincere discouragement, but, as time 
 passed, I began to have reason to think that my success con- 
 soled the authorities of the University for the loss of my 
 predecessor. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 19T 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 The University domain at Oxford Barnard accepts pastoral charge of 
 the church at Oxford Confusion in the financial affairs of the Uni- 
 versity History of its endowment Barnard's investigations Bar- 
 nard elected to succeed President Longstreet Discipline improved 
 Powers of Faculty enlarged True university organization projected 
 Open letter to the Board of Trustees Plan for the rearrangement 
 of the college curriculum Post-graduate schools Recitations and 
 lectures A noble appeal for the higher education Astronomy 
 Its practical utility An appeal to State pride In what the great- 
 ness of a State consists. 
 
 THE University of Mississippi was situated at a dis- 
 tance of about a mile from the village of Oxford, in the 
 middle of a section of public land, one mile square. The 
 University domain, with the exception of the ground on 
 which its buildings stood, was still covered by the prime- 
 val forest, through which a broad avenue had been cut to 
 the village. The buildings consisted of a great hall, a 
 chapel, several dormitories, and the dwellings of the pro- 
 fessors, all of which were arranged in a circle of about 
 two hundred yards in diameter. On Barnard's arrival he 
 found none of the professors' dwellings vacant, and for 
 the first year he was obliged to take lodgings at an hotel 
 in the village. Both while living there and afterwards 
 when he had a house on the University grounds, he sadly 
 missed and regretted the happy associations he had left 
 behind him at Tuskaloosa, and, in part perhaps for that 
 reason, he plunged into an amount of work which must 
 have overwhelmed a less vigorous constitution. The 
 professor of chemistry who had been elected by the Board 
 of Trustees failed to appear for duty, and did not trouble 
 
198 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 himself even to explain his neglect to comply with the 
 conditions of his appointment. The Executive Commit- 
 tee of the Board requested Barnard to fill the gap ; and 
 accordingly, during his first year at Oxford, he gave a 
 full course of lectures in experimental chemistry while 
 teaching at the same time the higher mathematics, phys- 
 ics, astronomy and the elements of civil engineering. 
 Besides these sufficiently onerous duties, he felt it to be 
 his duty to take charge of the Episcopal church in Ox- 
 ford. He had hardly settled himself there when he re- 
 ceived a letter from a clergyman who had held fortnightly 
 services for the Episcopalians of the village, expressing 
 his satisfaction that Oxford had now a resident clergy- 
 man, and requesting Barnard to relieve him of the charge. 
 The proposal was entirely unexpected, but it could hardly 
 be declined. In the end it proved to be advantageous 
 in many ways. He was obliged, of course, to proceed to 
 priest's orders, and so took full rank as a clergyman ; the 
 congregation prospered ; through his church relations he 
 was brought into intimate conference and association with 
 many of the most notable people of the State ; his posi- 
 tion and reputation as a clergyman strengthened his in- 
 fluence as an educator ; and so he was enabled to lay 
 broad foundations for the great work which he seems to 
 have contemplated from the beginning of his service in 
 Mississippi. 
 
 In two respects the condition of the University was 
 gravely unsatisfactory. Its discipline was inefficient, and 
 its finances were in great confusion. Barnard's loyalty 
 to his superior, President Longstreet, forbade his inter- 
 fering with discipline beyond the limits of his own de- 
 partment, and it was by special request of the President 
 himself that he entered into a laborious investigation of 
 the endowment. In the Act of Congress by which Mis- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 199 
 
 sissippi had been admitted to the Union, certain public 
 lands were set apart for the endowment of " a seminary 
 of learning "to be established within the State. By the 
 terms of the act the Legislature of the State was consti- 
 tuted sole trustee of that endowment, under the condi- 
 tion, however, that the principal acquired by disposing 
 of those lands should be kept intact by the State, and 
 should never be diminished. This trust and the condi- 
 tion annexed to it were embodied in the constitution of 
 the State, but nearly twenty years elapsed before any 
 steps were taken for the establishment of a seminary of 
 learning. In the meantime the Legislature endeavored 
 to raise the necessary endowment by disposing of the 
 seminary lands. Certain portions of them were leased, 
 but the method of leasing proved to be unsatisfactory, 
 and other portions were sold in fee. Under the provi- 
 sions of several various successive acts of the Legislature 
 the price of the lands sold was paid by the purchaser 
 either in full at the time of purchase or in a series of an- 
 nual instalments. All monies received on account of the 
 Seminary Fund were deposited in certain banks to the 
 credit of that fund ; but in the financial crisis which oc- 
 curred during General Jackson's second term as President 
 of the United States, the banks of Mississippi were in- 
 volved in the general ruin, and their creditors, including 
 the State itself, lost nearly all the funds deposited with 
 them. Thus " the Seminary Fund " was heavily reduced, 
 and in 1854, when Barnard first went to the University, all 
 that was supposed to remain of it was only about $180,000. 
 On learning what was then known of this history, Bar- 
 nard made further inquiry and came to the conclusion 
 that the State, in accepting the Seminary trust and giving 
 a constitutional guarantee that the Seminary Fund should 
 not be diminished, had made itself both legally and mor- 
 
200 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ally liable for the losses which the Fund had sustained. 
 He explained his view of the matter to Mr. Jacob Thomp- 
 son, President of the Board of Trustees, who at once 
 became greatly interested, and in the month of January, 
 1855, proceeded to make a careful examination of the laws 
 relating to the Seminary Fund. The result of his inves- 
 tigation was the discovery of evidence that the accounts 
 of the Fund had not been kept in the manner prescribed 
 by law, and that the whole business of the Seminary 
 Fund was in great confusion. Mr. Thompson saw that 
 a still more careful examination of former legislative acts 
 was necessary and that extensive computations would be 
 required to discover the amounts due to the Seminary 
 Fund under the various laws which had been in force at 
 different times. He therefore begged President Long- 
 street to proceed to Jackson to assist in the investigation 
 and join in such measures as might appear to be advisable 
 in view of its results. President Longstreet was unable 
 to leave the University at that time, and sent Barnard as 
 his substitute. With much labor Barnard scrutinized all 
 acts of the Legislature relating to the Seminary Fund, as- 
 certained the amounts due to the Fund under the opera- 
 tion of each act severally, and drew up a report, which 
 was adopted by Mr. Thompson, including these particu- 
 lars. This report was presented to the Governor, the 
 Hon. John J. McRae, who made it the subject of a 
 special message to the Legislature. The facts communi- 
 cated to the Legislature were startling enough, since they 
 positively proved that the Seminary Fund, that is, the 
 University Fund, the integrity of which had been guar- 
 anteed by the State, amounted to something over 
 $1,100,000; that only about $200,000 of that capital had 
 been expended for buildings, and consequently that the 
 State was indebted to the University Fund in the sum of 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 201 
 
 about $900,000. The Governor recommended that the 
 debt should be immediately acknowledged and its pay- 
 ment secured by the issue of bonds of the State to the re- 
 quired amount. The subject was new to the members of 
 the Legislature and the sum called for was large ; yet the 
 Senate concurred in the Governor's recommendations. 
 The House of Representatives hesitated. Meanwhile, a 
 carefully prepared memorial, written by Barnard, had 
 been presented to the Legislature by the Trustees of the 
 University, setting forth the inadequacy of the provision 
 made for the equipment of the University with many 
 appliances which were indispensable to its efficiency, and 
 praying for a direct appropriation from the State treas- 
 ury. Barnard asked and received permission to address 
 the Legislature in behalf of the memorial. A joint session 
 of the two houses was held for that purpose, and he then 
 showed the meagreness of the provision of books and ap- 
 paratus which had been made for the University, urging 
 his audience, if they wished their State institution to take 
 rank with other similar institutions, not to withhold from 
 it the necessary means to do so. It was objected, natu- 
 rally enough, that the representations made to the Legis- 
 lature on the whole subject of the Seminary Fund were 
 merely ex parte statements, and that it was due to the 
 State, before complying with demands of such impor- 
 tance, that a thoroughly impartial investigation should be 
 made by a commission appointed for that purpose. A 
 commissioner was appointed accordingly ; and to meet 
 the pressing present necessities of the University, as they 
 had been exhibited in the memorial of the Trustees, an 
 annual appropriation of $25,000 was voted, to be continued 
 for five years and to be devoted exclusively to the im- 
 provement of the library, the scientific collections and the 
 apparatus in use. Unfortunately it turned out that the 
 
 
202 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 commissioner, though his appointment was in every way 
 acceptable to the friends of the University, was so over- 
 whelmed with other business as to be unable to discharge 
 his function. At the end of five years he had made no 
 report. At the session of the Legislature in 1860 the an- 
 nual appropriation of $25,000 was extended for a further 
 period, but long before that period had expired the sessions 
 of the University had been suspended by the war between 
 the States. Thus the well-meant effort of Barnard and 
 Thompson had not all the success which seemed at one 
 time to be within their reach, and yet the special appro- 
 priation for books and apparatus which was made at the 
 session of 1855 enabled the Board of Trustees to add 
 much to the efficiency of the University. 
 
 In the month of June of the following year President 
 Longstreet, without any previous notice of his intention, 
 handed in his resignation to the Board of Trustees. By 
 common consent, at least among the Faculty, it had been 
 assumed that the Rev. Dr. Waddell, Professor of Greek, 
 would succeed to the presidency in case of President 
 Longstreet's retirement. In this assumption Barnard had 
 concurred, and he was somewhat surprised to learn that 
 he himself was mentioned as a competitor for the vacant 
 position. He made no canvass for the appointment, but 
 started immediately for the North to be present at the 
 inauguration of the Dudley Observatory at Albany, which 
 had been arranged to take place during the annual meet- 
 ing of the American Association for the Advancement of 
 Science. While at Albany, on the day of the inaugura- 
 tion, he received a telegram informing him that he had 
 been elected to the presidency of the University, and after 
 an exceedingly short vacation he returned to Oxford to 
 prepare for the new and responsible duties to which he 
 had been called. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 203 
 
 His first work after the reopening of the University 
 was to put its discipline into a state of efficiency, and 
 by a happy union of energy and mildness he succeeded 
 in repressing disorder and subduing the spirit of insubor- 
 dination. Dr. Waddell, displeased and mortified at his 
 disappointment, had resigned his chair and accepted the 
 presidency of a new Presbyterian College at Lagrange, 
 Tennessee, fifty miles north of Oxford, which was ex- 
 pected to be a formidable rival of the University of 
 Mississippi. In the public announcements of the opening 
 of the new college, great stress was laid on its religious 
 character as an assurance of the best moral influences in 
 the training of the students ; and State Universities, on 
 account of their non-denominational character, were de- 
 nounced as "godless colleges." A year or two later, 
 when Barnard's administration had made the institution 
 under his charge a model of good discipline, these adver- 
 tisements were somewhat ludicrously recalled by a sad 
 experience of the President of Lagrange. A regular 
 meeting of the Synod being in session in the town, Dr. 
 Waddell invited that body to attend divine service in 
 the College chapel on Sunday morning, and the invitation 
 was accepted. The President informed the students of 
 the expected visit and begged them to be on their good 
 behavior. Unluckily, the lads thought it an opportunity 
 for a "lark" of the first order, and during the night 
 preceding the appointed service they drove into the 
 chapel all the horses, pigs, and cattle they could find 
 running at large, as the custom was, in the " range " or 
 open forest in the neighborhood of the town. The state 
 of the chapel which was presented to the wondering eyes 
 of the visitors on Sunday morning was not beautiful ; 
 and Dr. Barnard, who tells the story in his manuscript 
 reminiscences, does not conceal his satisfaction at the 
 
204 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 thought that, if the University of Mississippi had less 
 "godliness" than the College of Lagrange, it had at 
 least much better discipline, and consequently much 
 more decency and good behavior. 
 
 The good order of the University having been happily 
 secured, the next effort of President Barnard was to 
 obtain a proper recognition of the Faculty as the re- 
 sponsible teaching body. The statutes had been so 
 framed as to commit the regulation of the most minute 
 details of administration, including even such matters 
 as the ringing of the college bell and the arrangement 
 of the hours of recitation, to the Board of Trustees ; 
 and he proposed the adoption of an entirely new code 
 under which all arrangements directly connected with 
 the instruction of students should be left to the ex- 
 clusive discretion of the Faculty. When the proposed 
 code was submitted to the Board of Trustees, the Presi- 
 dent, though not a member of that body, was invited to 
 be present. His proposals were strenuously resisted by 
 the framer of the existing statutes, who was a judge of 
 the Supreme Court of the State. In the course of the 
 discussion Barnard suggested that it might be well to 
 call the other members of the Faculty before the Board 
 and hear their views of a subject concerning which they 
 could give an opinion founded, not on theory, but on the 
 results of practical experience. The members of the 
 Faculty were summoned, and unanimously supported 
 the opinion of their chief. Still, the issue of the debate 
 was doubtful, until Barnard, with some dexterity and 
 not a little humor, plied the argumentum ad hominem. 
 At that time most of the Trustees were engaged in the 
 construction of the Central Railroad of Mississippi which 
 was then in progress, and he borrowed an apt illustration 
 from that enterprise. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 205 
 
 Gentlemen [he said], you have undertaken the construc- 
 tion of a railway to connect the town of Jackson, Mississippi, 
 with the town of Jackson, Tennessee. You have employed a 
 corps of engineers. You have fixed the termini of your road 
 and the general line of its course ; but do you attempt to pre- 
 scribe the details of the work of construction ? You do not 
 undertake to tell the engineers how they shall cross this river, 
 or build that embankment, or cut that hill; that is the 
 engineers' business. You employ engineers because they un- 
 derstand that business better than you. If you let them alone, 
 they will do it judiciously. If you were to follow them mile 
 by mile and compel them to make bridges and embankments 
 and tunnels according to your ideas, the work would probably 
 be spoiled. Just so in the University. You have asked us 
 to educate the young men of Mississippi; you have appointed 
 us because we are professional teachers and you believe we 
 understand our business ; you have prescribed the broad out- 
 lines of our work, and we have undertaken to do the work 
 on those lines. Now, if you are to direct the details of the 
 work at every step, you will succeed no better than you 
 would succeed if you were to direct the engineers of the 
 Mississippi Central in the same way. Our professional knowl- 
 edge and experience will be set aside and rendered useless, 
 and our whole work will probably be badly botched. 
 
 This argument put an end to the discussion ; the new 
 code of statutes was adopted, and the whole arrangement 
 of the practical details of instruction in the University 
 was surrendered by the Trustees and intrusted to the 
 Faculty. One incidental feature of the new code was 
 that the presiding officer of the University should thence- 
 forward have the style of Chancellor and not of President. 
 
 The way was now fairly clear for the far grander effort 
 to reconstruct the whole scheme of the University course, 
 so that in process of time the institution might become 
 a University in the largest sense of the word, and be 
 thoroughly equipped for all the functions of such an 
 institution in modern times. Dr. Barnard has recorded 
 
206 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 that, when visiting the Hon. Giles M. Hillyer at Natchez 
 during the winter of 1855, he observed a phenomenon of 
 which he had often read, but which he had never before 
 seen. The weather was extremely cold, and the water 
 in his pitcher became chilled to such a degree that, 
 although it continued to be fluid while it was left undis- 
 turbed, a sudden jar instantaneously converted it into a 
 mass of ice. Something of the same sort seems to have 
 occurred in his views of the higher education after his 
 election to the presidency of the University. In his 
 Report to the Trustees of the University of Alabama, 
 which was written in 1854, he had had all the elements 
 of that problem clearly before his mind, but he gave no 
 indication that he had realized their far-reaching signifi- 
 cance. He had insisted on the special value of the curric- 
 ulum of arts as a mental discipline, without regard to 
 the utility, in other respects, of the knowledge acquired 
 in connection with it. He had therefore protested against 
 a measure which, in his opinion, must tend to mar the 
 efficiency of that curriculum without efficiently supply- 
 ing technical or professional instruction to students who 
 desired it. He had complained that, in deference to 
 a mistaken demand, the curriculum of arts had been 
 heavily overloaded with extraneous studies which were 
 not intended for mental discipline, and which could not 
 be satisfactorily pursued within the four years allowed 
 for a college course. He had shown that colleges 
 had been attempting to fulfil a function which did not 
 properly belong to them, and which it was impossible for 
 them to perform. He had traced some part of the popular 
 misapprehension of the subject to a misunderstanding of 
 the word "university," which, in its original sense, had 
 meant simply the whole society or community of per- 
 sons united in the University organization. A univer- 
 
FEEDEEICK A. P. BAENAED 207 
 
 sity, he said, was a Universitas Doctorum et Scholarium, 
 a Society or Community of Teachers and Scholars, not 
 a Universitas Scientiarum, or a School of all Branches of 
 Knowledge. He showed that the American college, 
 though it is often called a university, does not at 
 all correspond with the German university, which is 
 really an institution for professional instruction, but 
 rather with the German gymnasium, which teaches 
 much the same branches as the American college, though 
 it confers no degrees. The American college had been 
 modelled after the colleges in English universities, and its 
 proper function was to teach the curriculum of arts only, 
 though it had been endowed with the additional power of 
 conferring degrees, which, in other countries, is reserved 
 to the university. He did not deny that professional 
 schools such as exist in Europe under the auspices of the 
 university might be necessary, but he did not in the least 
 imply that they might form a part of the organization 
 of an American university system ; and it did not seem 
 to have occurred to him that an institution which accepted 
 the power to confer degrees in all faculties, had thereby 
 implicitly accepted the functions, and ought to do the 
 duty, of all faculties. He did not deny that, in the social 
 and economic conditions of the present century, technical 
 schools were necessary; he admitted that such schools 
 ought to be established ; but so far from seeming to think 
 that they might be included in a university system, he 
 plainly said that, if they were as indispensable as the ad- 
 vocates of technical education believed, they would offer 
 a proper and lucrative field for private enterprise and 
 investment. In short, throughout the whole Report, he 
 seemed to regard the college, including the curriculum 
 of arts only, and enjoying the peculiar privilege of con- 
 ferring degrees, to be the ideal organization of an Amer- 
 
208 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 lean university. If other schools were necessary, as 
 they doubtless were, by all means let them be established, 
 but they need not be established in connection with the 
 university. 
 
 No sooner did he find himself the responsible head of 
 a university than his views of the function of such an 
 institution became greatly enlarged. He did not in the 
 least change his belief that the curriculum of arts, as it 
 had been long established, furnished the best possible 
 training for the mental faculties of the student, to what- 
 ever pursuit he might afterwards bend his energies ; but 
 he saw that the time devoted to the curriculum of arts 
 might perhaps be advantageously abridged. He began to 
 recognize that knowledge of a practical kind has an in- 
 trinsic value which must not be overlooked in a rational 
 system of modern education. He clearly saw that the 
 influence of the higher education must have an incal- 
 culable influence on all other education, professional, 
 technical, and elementary. Hence he reasoned that a 
 university thoroughly adapted to the necessities of the age 
 could not be a mere Universitas Doctorum et Scholarium 
 of one particular curriculum, but must rather be a Univer- 
 sitas Scientiarum, supplying all the instruction needed in 
 a great State for the practical uses, as well as for the 
 highest intellectual culture, of its citizens. To the reali- 
 zation of this large and lofty ideal of the functions of a 
 State university, Chancellor Barnard now began to direct 
 all his powers. He did not hope to succeed immediately. 
 For the working out of plans so extensive he well knew 
 that time as well as labor would be indispensable ; yet he 
 thought it well to give some public intimation of the plans 
 he had in view, while proposing for the present only such 
 part of them as he might at first expect to be successful 
 in accomplishing. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 209 
 
 Before proceeding in so great an enterprise, a weaker 
 man would have sought to win the support of the Trustees 
 severally ; but in this matter Barnard felt that boldness 
 would be prudence. No such scheme could be carried 
 out in a State institution unless it had popular support. 
 The Trustees were appointees of the Legislature ; the 
 Legislature represented the people ; it was necessary that 
 the people who elected the Legislature should approve his 
 scheme, or the Board of Trustees, however its members 
 might sympathize with his views, would be powerless to 
 make them operative. He therefore resolved to make his 
 appeal at once to the Trustees and the people of the State 
 by addressing an Open Letter to the Board, and circu- 
 lating it extensively throughout the State before it was 
 formally presented at a session of the Board. Thus 
 public opinion was brought to bear on the Trustees 
 before they were called to act, and Trustees on whose 
 support he had reason to count were fortified by the 
 previously ascertained sentiment of their fellow-citizens. 
 A few of the members of the Board were at first disposed 
 to resent the publication of Barnard's letter as an attempt 
 to coerce them to submit to his dictation, and for a time 
 he had some cause to apprehend that he had overshot his 
 mark. In the end, however, the majority of the Board 
 sustained him ; all opposition was withdrawn ; the leader 
 of the dissentients had a son in the University who was 
 ardently devoted to Barnard, and he presently became 
 one of Barnard's most faithful supporters. The policy of 
 boldness turned out to have been really a policy of pru- 
 dence, and from that time until his withdrawal from the 
 University at the opening of the war the utmost harmony 
 of sentiment continued to exist between the Chancellor 
 and the Board of Trustees. 
 
 Part of the contents of this important publication had 
 
210 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 already been substantially set forth in his Alabama Report, 
 and may be mentioned very briefly. He frankly admitted 
 the charge that American colleges had not succeeded in 
 keeping up with the educational demand of the times, 
 and he urged that in attempting to satisfy all demands 
 they had impaired their efficiency in their proper work, 
 without satisfying popular expectation. The proper work 
 of a college was to train the minds of its students by 
 means of a curriculum of studies selected with an ex- 
 clusive view to that end. The public had demanded the 
 addition of many studies to the college course without 
 regard to their utility as means of intellectual training, 
 and without adding to the time within which a college 
 course must be concluded. Thus the curriculum of arts 
 had been overloaded with studies which were not specially 
 adapted to the culture of the mental faculties, and which 
 could not be satisfactorily mastered within the time de- 
 voted to them. A mere examination of the schedule 
 of the studies in any college would show how impossible 
 a task had been attempted. So absurd was it that it 
 could only have been framed by almost imperceptible 
 degrees, because no rational person would have failed to 
 see its sheer impossibility if it had ever been proposed in 
 its integrity as an original scheme. 
 
 The necessity of some reform had been keenly felt by 
 enlightened educators, and measures of reform had been 
 introduced in several important colleges by the introduc- 
 tion of parallel courses of study which were open to the 
 selection of the student. At the University of Virginia 
 all departments of learning had been left open to the 
 choice of students, but that plan, whether successful or 
 not in that institution, had been followed with great 
 inconvenience, and even by disaster, elsewhere. Some 
 colleges had been more successful in establishing extra- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 211 
 
 collegiate departments, devoted mainly to theoretical and 
 practical science, and to the applications of chemistry and 
 natural philosophy to the arts. Finally, the same general 
 sense of the necessity of some change in the present over- 
 loaded college curriculum had "manifested itself in the 
 establishment, in a college which had previously presented 
 but a single course of study terminating in the degree of 
 Bachelor of Arts, of a second course, intended to com- 
 mence where the first ends, and leading to the higher 
 degree of Master of Arts." This last course Barnard 
 himself preferred. It had been distinctly approved by 
 Dr. Thornwell of the College of South Carolina; at 
 Brown University, in accordance with the earnest recom- 
 mendation of Dr. Wayland, it had been already intro- 
 duced ; even the University of Virginia, which permitted 
 its students to select their own departments of study, 
 nevertheless made definite exactions of all candidates for 
 the degree of Bachelor of Arts, and much higher exactions 
 of candidates for the degree of Master ; " and during the 
 past year, Columbia College in the City of New York, one 
 of the wealthiest institutions in the country, and also one 
 of the earliest established, after a long period of deliberate 
 inquiry and extensive correspondence with the most ex- 
 perienced friends of education throughout the United 
 States, had instituted exactly the system which was now 
 recommended." 
 
 If these views should be approved, the first measure 
 of reform would be a reduction of the undergraduate 
 course by " excluding from the curriculum of study all 
 those branches of science which are confessedly modern 
 additions, and along with these the modern languages." 
 The course, as thus reconstructed, would then include 
 the English, Latin, and Greek languages, the elementary 
 branches of the pure mathematics, the mechanical branches 
 
212 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of natural philosophy, logic, rhetoric, the principles of 
 criticism, moral and mental philosophy, composition, and 
 elocution. In the closing year it might be proper to 
 introduce elementary courses in chemistry, and some 
 topics of natural philosophy which are not strictly me- 
 chanical ; but the object of introducing these courses 
 should be simply to give the student some foretaste of 
 these subjects which might stimulate him to a further 
 study of them in the higher department. In no case 
 ought they to be matters of examination for the Bach- 
 elor's degree. 
 
 At first the arrangements of the post-graduate depart- 
 ment must be provisional. 
 
 To the post-graduate department may be turned over those 
 branches of science and letters which are excluded from the 
 former, and which, at present, are imperfectly taught. Their 
 number may from time to time be increased by adding new 
 ones as the wants of the public and the growing resources of 
 the University may demand and justify. Thus, it may imme- 
 diately include astronomy, geology, mineralogy, chemistry, 
 natural philosophy, meteorology, civil engineering, the higher 
 branches of the pure mathematics, Greek and Roman letters, 
 the modern languages and their literature, political economy, 
 international law and the history of philosophy; but it will 
 include at first only such of this list as are most practical in 
 their nature. In creating this department the design should be 
 to build up ultimately a university in the largest acceptation 
 of that term, and it is to be expected that, in the progress of 
 years, schools of agriculture, of natural history, of medical 
 science, of civil and political history, of oriental learning, and 
 others, will be established as they shall appear to be needed, 
 and that the existing School of Law will be strengthened by 
 the addition of new professorships. 
 
 Admission to the post-graduate schools ought to be open 
 only to Bachelors of Arts and to persons whose preliminary 
 
FBEDERICK A. P. BAKNARD 213 
 
 training should be proved by a thorough examination to 
 have fully qualified them to enter on their special studies, 
 but the university should maintain no preparatory school 
 except the regular college of arts. Students entering the 
 post-graduate schools, however or wherever they might 
 have received their preparatory training, must be educated 
 men; they should be perfectly free to choose their own 
 schools; and they should not be obliged to study in any 
 school against their will. If it should be thought proper 
 to confer the degree of Master of Arts, that honor should 
 be conferred on those only who should have previously 
 completed the undergraduate course, and who should then 
 have passed successfully through a prescribed number and 
 variety of post-graduate schools. 
 
 The instruction in post-graduate schools ought to be 
 radically different in method from undergraduate instruc- 
 tion in the college. Undergraduates are boys whose imma- 
 turity of mind and character has to be constantly borne in 
 mind. Many of them attend college merely in compliance 
 with the wishes of their parents, and with no clear sense 
 of the object of their being sent there. Many are playful, 
 and care only to pass their time as pleasantly as possible. 
 Some are idle. Consequently the discipline of the college 
 must be so framed as to exact at least a minimum of men- 
 tal effort from all, even the most reluctant, or mental dis- 
 cipline, which is the great purpose of a college education, 
 will not be secured. Hence the college course is neces- 
 sarily laid out in a succession of tasks which the student 
 is required to perform, and his performance of the tasks 
 prescribed is tested by daily recitations. 
 
 Recitation is indispensable, but its advantages have been 
 greatly over-rated. It trains the student to express his 
 ideas of a given subject with readiness. He may learn 
 from the recitation of a fellow-student something that he 
 
214 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 has overlooked or misunderstood. If lie makes an error 
 in reciting, lie gives the teacher an opportunity of correct- 
 ing him and of supplying some needed information. An 
 acute instructor will avail himself of the recitation to draw 
 out matters of interest which would otherwise escape the 
 pupil altogether; but the more he does so, the more he will 
 be passing out of mere recitation and into a far higher 
 method of instruction. " For the purposes of mere recitation 
 any man who is capable of understanding what the pupil 
 says and of reading the books from which he has learned it, 
 so as to compare the performance with the text, is as good 
 and capable an examiner in a class-room as any other." 
 The teacher who meets his classes merely to hear their 
 recitations is not really a teacher, nor does he become so 
 until he engrafts upon that exercise the higher expository 
 function of the lecturer; and just in proportion as he rises 
 to that higher function must he sacrifice the process of per- 
 sonal investigation which is the main object of the daily 
 recitations. Class recitations, under ordinary circum- 
 stances, present this gravely disadvantageous dilemma, 
 that very few out of a large number of students can be ex- 
 amined at any session, or else that so short a time must be 
 devoted to each of them as to make the examination merely 
 formal. Thus, unless the teacher strictly confines himself 
 to the function of a mere rptiteur, the recitation, con- 
 sidered as a method of coercion, fails of its purpose. It 
 too often happens that the teacher does confine himself to 
 that function; his accumulated knowledge is not applied 
 to the elucidation of the subject in hand, and he falls into 
 a dull routine in which he ceases to be a living power and 
 becomes merely a questioning machine. 
 
 In the post-graduate schools the method of formal reci- 
 tations could have no place. It must be presumed that 
 students entering those schools would be as anxious to 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 215 
 
 learn as the teachers to teach, and hence all thought of 
 task-work must be banished. So far as questioning might 
 be practised, its object would not be to test the previous 
 work of the student, but rather to discover where the 
 teacher's personal efforts might be applied to the best 
 advantage. His proper work would be to lecture, in the 
 sense of giving oral expositions of the subject in hand. 
 Thus his whole knowledge would be available, whether 
 it were or were not contained in text-books used by the 
 student, and he would be constantly stimulated to impart 
 his personal knowledge to the class before him. Books 
 would by no means be discarded. It would be the duty 
 of the teacher to refer his pupils to many books in which 
 they might find fuller details of particular topics than 
 time would permit him to give. But his work would be 
 to discourse upon a subject, not to repeat the substance 
 of a book, and so, from sheer necessity, he would be a true 
 teacher of his class. On many occasions the method of 
 recitation in the college course would be reversed; the 
 student would ask questions, and the teacher would reply. 
 In cases which admit of argument it would be of great 
 advantage if the student were permitted to take issue with 
 his teacher and to give his reasons for holding a different 
 opinion, because nothing could afford the teacher a more 
 admirable opportunity for expounding and illustrating 
 the matter under consideration, and nothing would more 
 surely encourage the student to apply his own faculties 
 of research and judgment. In short, while the object of 
 recitations in college is to compel immature boys to cer- 
 tain efforts which are necessary to their mental and intel- 
 lectual training, the object of post-graduate instruction 
 would be to assist the voluntary studies of serious and 
 earnest men. 
 
 Of the time to be devoted to the undergraduate course 
 
216 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 and to the schools of the post-graduate department, Chan- 
 cellor Barnard spoke with some reserve ; but he intimated 
 that the former might be advantageously reduced. That 
 subject, he thought, might perhaps be properly left to the 
 independent consideration and decision of the Board of 
 Trustees whom he was addressing. He said 
 
 Columbia College, New York, under its new organization, 
 proposes to confer the degree of Bachelor of Arts at the end 
 of three years of study, and that of Master of Arts after two 
 years additional. Brown University has fixed the course for 
 the degree of Bachelor of Philosophy at three years, while that 
 of Bachelor of Arts is still suffered to extend to four years. 
 In the University of Virginia degrees are conferred only on 
 proficiency, whatever be the time of study required to secure 
 the necessary qualification ; but in that institution it is believed 
 that a faithful student can attain the Bachelor's degree in three 
 years, and the Master's in four or five. Whatever be the 
 lengths of time fixed upon as proper for the case of this Uni- 
 versity, it is clearly expedient that proficiency, and not a deter- 
 minate period of residence, should be made the test of fitness 
 for the honor of graduation, and that the proficiency of candi- 
 dates should not be a matter of inference from the recorded 
 results of their daily performances, a criterion which is fal- 
 lacious in the extreme, but should be ascertained at the close 
 of the course by rigid written examinations. 
 
 The important thing at present was to draw a line be- 
 tween the period devoted to the first great educational 
 end of training the mind and the second period devoted to 
 imparting special knowledge. There was no reason why 
 this should not be done, and until it should be done the 
 University of Mississippi would continue to be nothing 
 more than a German gymnasium ; it would not be a true 
 university. 
 
 No matter what the original meaning of the word " uni- 
 versity " might have been in former ages, it had come to 
 

 FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 217 
 
 mean a Universitas Scientiarum, a School of all Learning, 
 and to create such a university as the present age required 
 would demand large expenditures, and therefore a large 
 endowment. There were many colleges ; for lack of 
 endowments there could be few universities. A seminary 
 of education belonging to a great State ought to be fully 
 equipped and managed as a university of the first class. 
 The University of Mississippi was not only a State insti- 
 tution ; it was already possessed of an ample endowment, 
 and although some time might elapse before it could reap 
 all the benefit of that endowment, the appropriation made 
 by the Legislature to its support was sufficient to enable 
 it to make a beginning of the measures which were neces- 
 sary to inaugurate its career as a true university. Noth- 
 ing more important to the best interests of the State could 
 be done than to foster the highest education ; yet, while 
 he advocated no rash or precipitate measures, he did plead 
 for an intelligent beginning. He brushed aside the 
 trivial objection that " the plan which he proposed was too 
 large." If it should be realized to the full, it would not 
 be too large for its purpose, nor for the use and honor of 
 the State, nor would it be incommensurate with its endow- 
 ment ; but what he was proposing for the present was not 
 all that might come in the future ; it was only the small 
 beginning, which there were ample means to make. He 
 repelled the objection of the unintelligent that " the Uni- 
 versity, as it was, sufficed for the needs of the people " by 
 retorting that the demands of the people had constrained 
 the colleges throughout the country to attempt the im- 
 possible, and that what he proposed was simply to organ- 
 ize the University in such a way as to enable it to meet 
 the just demands of the people. He replied to the objec- 
 tion of the ignorant that " the higher learning is useless 
 because it is not practical " in a noble paragraph in which 
 
218 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 he maintained the nobility of knowledge for its own sake, 
 independently of practical utility, and then proceeded to 
 show how largely the progress of mankind has been fur- 
 thered by merely incidental, and for a time unnoticed, 
 discoveries of science. 
 
 In every branch of human investigation truths may be 
 brought to light which are merely incidental and without per- 
 ceptible ulterior importance. The truth is, that speculations 
 upon the value of any discovery, in the moment in which the 
 discovery is made, are totally idle are worse than idle 
 are foolish. The alchemists, in their indefatigable, though 
 empirical and blind, researches in quest of the philosopher's 
 stone, discovered many curious compounds which, since they 
 availed nothing towards the production of gold, were held 
 by them in low esteem ; yet among these are some of those 
 energetic reagents which, in the hands of modern chemistry 
 and directed by modern intelligence, have heaped up gold in 
 mountains, beyond even the alchemist's wildest dreams, in 
 the heart of every civilized land. 
 
 To descend to later times, and to speak with more specific 
 particularity, when Priestley, in 1774, turning the focus of his 
 burning lens upon the substance known in the shops of the 
 apothecaries under the name of red precipitate, detached 
 bubbles of a gas identical with that which, in the atmosphere, 
 supports life, who could presume that, in thus freeing one of 
 the metals from its companion element, he had detected the 
 composition of many of the most useful ores and furnished 
 a hint which was yet to reduce all metallurgic art, from the 
 smelting of iron to the reduction of aluminum, under the 
 dominion of chemical science, and to the severe rule of an 
 intelligent and a productive economy ? When, in the same 
 year, Scheele, by operating on the acid of sea-salt, made first 
 visible to human eyes that beautifully colored gas whose suf- 
 focating odor is now so well known to all the world, who 
 could foresee the astonishing revolution which a discovery then 
 interesting only for its curious beauty was destined to intro- 
 duce into the manufacture of paper, of linen textures, and of 
 a vast multitude of other objects of daily and hourly use ? 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 219 
 
 Or what imagination could have been extravagant enough or 
 fantastic enough in the exercise of its inventive power, to 
 anticipate that a substance, for the moment not merely use- 
 less but seemingly noxious, would in the nineteenth century 
 accomplish what, without it, no instrumentality known to 
 science or art could have accomplished, find aliment for the 
 rapacious maw of a letter-press whose insatiable demands, 
 already grown vast beyond all conception, grow yet with each 
 succeeding year ? When the chemist of the last century 
 observed the discoloration and degradation which certain 
 metallic salts undergo in the sunlight, who could possibly 
 read, in a circumstance so apparently trivial though occasionally 
 troublesome, the intimation that the sun himself was about to 
 place in the hands of Niepce, and Daguerre, and Talbot, a 
 pencil whose magical powers of delineation should cause the 
 highest achievements of human pictorial art to seem poor and 
 rude in the comparison ? When Malus, in 1810, watching the 
 glare of the sun's rays reflected from the windows of the 
 Luxembourg to his own, noticed for the first time the curious 
 phenomena attendant on that peculiar condition of light which 
 has since been known by the name of polarization, what pre- 
 science could have connected a fact so totally without any percep- 
 tible utility, with the manufacture of sugar in France ; or have 
 anticipated that an instrument founded in principle on this 
 very property would, forty years later, effect an annual saving 
 to the French people to the extent of hundreds of thousands of 
 francs ? When (Ersted, in 1819, observed the disturbance of 
 the magnetic needle by the influence of a neighboring galvanic 
 current, how wild and visionary would not that man have been 
 pronounced to be, who should have professed to read in an 
 indication so slight, the grand truth that science had that day 
 stretched out the sceptre of her authority over a winged mes- 
 senger, whose fleetness should make a laggard even of Oberon's 
 familiar sprite, and render the velocity which could put a 
 " girdle round the earth in forty minutes " tardy and unsatis- 
 fying ? 
 
 Questions of this kind, suggested by the history of scientific 
 progress, might be multiplied to fill a volume. Indeed, it has 
 almost come to be a dogma in science, that there is no new 
 
220 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 truth whatever, no matter how wide a space may seem in the 
 hour of its discovery to divide it from any connection with the 
 material interests of man, which carries not within it the la- 
 tent seeds of a utility which further discovery in the same field 
 will reveal and cause to germinate. And it has also almost come 
 to be a rule, that new discoveries in regard to the properties of 
 material things, or the laws that govern them, shall belong 
 to the class of seemingly useless truths. A new truth, though 
 in its bosom may lie buried the germ of a wealth to which all 
 the gold of California would be but as the light dust of the 
 balance, may yet for years occupy in men's estimations 
 no higher a place than that of a fact of curious knowledge ; 
 even as the priceless diamond in the cottage of the fisher- 
 man of the Eastern tale was esteemed capable of being turned 
 to no better account than to serve as a plaything for children. 
 Not even useful truth is useful until it is known to be so, and 
 until it is known how it is to be so. And no matter how 
 numerous and multiform may be the facts which the armies of 
 science may sweep together as their spoil, and no matter 
 what infinity of benefit to man may be hidden among the rich 
 booty all this availeth nothing to the world which it so 
 deeply concerns, until, by patient experiment, endlessly varied 
 and feeling its way cautiously in the obscurity, it has been made 
 manifest to what useful ends the result of the conquest may 
 be applied. Thus, when Volta, by piling up bits of metal and 
 moistened cardboard, one upon another, succeeded in produc- 
 ing a feeble disturbance of electrical equilibrium, he discovered, 
 as early as the year 1800, a truth pregnant with consequences 
 of incalculable moment to science, and destined to contribute 
 more to human comfort and the wealth of nations, than the 
 discovery of a dozen Californias. Yet several years elapsed 
 before, in the hands of Davy, the wonderful fertility of this 
 great germ-truth even began to be revealed ; and still, at this 
 very day, after the lapse of more than half a century, after 
 a long series of illustrious investigators have added their 
 labors to his, after the inventive genius of a Hare, and a Wol- 
 laston, and a Daniell, and a Grove, and a Bunsen have been 
 successively employed in exalting the energy of the combina- 
 tions, and the intelligent sagacity of an Ampere, an Arago, a 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 221 
 
 Henry, a De la Rive, and a Faraday, has been opening out to 
 view a brilliant array of resultant truths ; when all things in 
 earth and air and sea have yielded to this next to miraculous 
 power the secret of their composition ; when the obdurate 
 puzzle of the earth's magnetism has melted away before 
 it; when a network of electric wires has annihilated the 
 breadth of continents, and the two mightiest nations of the 
 earth are preparing to stretch out the line which links thought 
 with thought, from shore to shore of the ocean itself, even 
 now, the progressive development of the great germ truth is 
 still unchecked, and the world is full of laborers exploring, 
 with unabated zeal, the field first opened to their research 
 by the intelligent observation and appreciative genius of Volta. 
 If it is difficult, then, for philosophers themselves to judge, 
 in the first moments of discovery, in what precise form, and 
 through what precise practical application, any new truth may 
 become palpably useful to man, how much more so must it be 
 for the multitude who are not philosophers ! And if it has 
 happened in instances which defy enumeration that the insig- 
 nificant truth of to-day has been exalted to a position of the 
 highest dignity to-morrow, how shall we venture to say of 
 any known fact of science, however it may surpass our present 
 penetration to discover any connection, immediate or remote, 
 between it and the increase of human wealth or comfort, that 
 it is a useless fact, or that the labor which may have been 
 expended in bringing it to light has been thrown away ? 
 
 This eloquent vindication of the utility of scientific re- 
 search was not written without a practical purpose, nor 
 merely for the purpose it seemed to have in view. Bar- 
 nard had set his heart on securing for the University at 
 the earliest possible moment a modest astronomical obser- 
 vatory, to be paid for out of the appropriation which had 
 been made by the Legislature, and so to make a begin- 
 ning of that higher scientific research for which he hoped 
 that the University might yet be famous. He had 
 already sufficient apparatus for all the other departments 
 which he could hope to establish for years to come, and the 
 
222 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 objection of immediate imitility was precisely the objec- 
 tion which could be most easily maintained against ad- 
 vanced astronomical studies. His vindication of scien- 
 tific studies in general was therefore meant chiefly as 
 an introduction to a similar vindication of astronomical 
 studies in particular, by which he might anticipate objec- 
 tions to the establishment of an observatory. 
 
 The science of astronomy is that which seems to the view 
 of most men at the present day to occupy itself, more than any 
 other, with laborious trifling. Not that the uses of astronomy 
 in general are altogether denied. Most persons know that 
 astronomy has something to do, in some way or other, with 
 navigation; and nobody need be told that navigation has 
 something to do with commerce, or commerce with human 
 wealth. But the idea seems to be generally prevalent, that 
 all the service which astronomy can render to navigation has 
 been rendered long ago, and that observers are now idly gaz- 
 ing up into the skies for the gratification of a transcendentally 
 refined curiosity. It is true, notwithstanding, that astronomy 
 is still too far short of the point of perfection to assign the 
 place of a ship on the ocean within a narrower limit of error 
 than three or four miles. 
 
 As early as 1598, Philip III., of Spain, offered a reward of 
 one thousand crowns to the person who should solve the prob- 
 lem. The Dutch States shortly after followed with au offer 
 of ten thousand florins. lu 1714, the British Parliament pro- 
 posed the magnificent prize of twenty thousand pounds to any 
 oue who should furnish a method by which longitude on the 
 ocean could be ascertained within thirty geographical miles. 
 The same body offered also the lesser reward of fifteen thou- 
 sand pounds for a method which should be correct withiu 
 forty miles ; aud ten thousand for one true only within sixty. 
 In 1716, France, under the regency of the Duke of Orleans, 
 offered, to the same end, a prize of one hundred thousand 
 livres. But no really important results were ever arrived at 
 until after the establishment of regular astronomical observa- 
 tories. When, in 1674, St. Pierre, a French competitor for the 
 prize offered by Parliament, presented to the court of Charles 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 223 
 
 II. an astronomical method for the determination of the longi- 
 tude, no better tables of the heavenly bodies existed than those 
 of Tycho Brahe. The commissioners appointed to examine 
 St. Pierre's claim applied for advice to Mamsteed, then the 
 most eminent of British astronomers. He replied that the 
 method was valueless, on account of the errors of the tables ; 
 and that every astronomical method must be equally so, unless 
 the places of the heavenly bodies should be observed anew. 
 It is said that Charles, on reading this letter, exclaimed im- 
 pulsively, " But I must have them observed ! " and these 
 words from the lips of royalty laid the foundation of the 
 Observatory at Greenwich. That single institution has done 
 more for the increase of the world's wealth than would have 
 sufficed to support at their ease all the astronomers and physi- 
 cists that ever lived since the days of Hipparchus ; to build 
 and furnish all the observatories the world ever saw; to 
 establish and endow all the universities, colleges, and schools, 
 of every grade from highest to lowest, throughout the globe ; 
 to erect and provide for all the hospitals, almshouses, and 
 eleemosynary institutions of every kind, in all civilized lands ; 
 and to build all the churches and parsonages, as well as defray 
 all other expenses attendant on the support of religion, in 
 every Christian country, from the advent of our blessed 
 Saviour down to the present hour. We need not hesitate to 
 assert that the observatories of Europe, beginning with those 
 of Greenwich and Paris in the seventeenth century, have done 
 more in widening the scope of the world's commercial opera- 
 tions, and quickening the energy which has pervaded and 
 filled them everywhere with activity, than all other influences 
 put together than the temptation to human cupidity offered 
 from all antiquity in the fabled wealth of India, Cathay, and 
 the Islands of Spices than the intoxication with which the 
 world of the sixteenth century ran mad over the metallic 
 treasures of the two Americas than all the stimulus applied 
 by interested governments, in the form of favoring legislation, 
 grants of monopolies and the investment of trading companies 
 with exclusive rights and privileges than all the improve- 
 ments of naval architecture, increasing the strength, the sta- 
 bility, the capacity, and the speed of sea-going vessels than 
 
224 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 all the discoveries in marine geography, disclosing the hidden 
 dangers of the ocean's bed and the insidious currents of its 
 surface than all the progress made in studying the laws 
 which govern the winds, their direction, their violence and 
 their fluctuations than the upspringing and growth to great- 
 ness of colonies upon wild and untenanted shores than the 
 simultaneous enlargement of the material by the discovery of 
 new articles adapted to the uses of man, or the application of 
 articles of ancient knowledge to new uses than the enlarge- 
 ment of human wants through the facility with which the 
 simpler wants of the earlier centuries are supplied in the 
 later than the enlargement of human wealth itself, which 
 tends ever through commercial enterprise to enlarge itself 
 still more than, finally, the great improvement of the nine- 
 teenth century, the invocation of the powerful arm of steam 
 to the propulsion of the mercantile marine, securing a rapidity 
 and a definite duration of transit on the longest voyages 
 which are next in value to wealth, itself. 
 
 This great benefit conferred by astronomy upon commerce, 
 and through commerce upon the world's wealth, has resulted 
 from the operation of a very simple principle. In whatever 
 human enterprises wealth is set at hazard, the ventures will be 
 greater in proportion as the hazard is less. It is conceivable 
 that the dangers of the ocean might be so great as to arrest 
 transmarine commerce altogether. It is also conceivable that 
 they might be totally annihilated. Between the extremes, 
 commerce would assume every intermediate aspect of vitality 
 and freedom, from vigorous life down to absolute torpidity. 
 Now, among the Athenians, according to Say, marine insur- 
 ance bore the extravagant rate of sixty per cent per annum, or 
 thirty per cent per voyage on the total value insured. Say 
 supposes this extraordinary fact to be in part attributable to 
 the barbarous habits of the people with whom the Athenians 
 traded a supposition apparently quite gratuitous, since no 
 producing people is hostile to commerce, and no non-producing 
 people is worth trading with. But he attributes it also, with 
 greater justice, to the dangers of navigation, and adds this sig- 
 nificant remark: "There was more danger [to the Athenian 
 merchant-sailors] in a voyage from the Piraeus to Trapezus, 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 225 
 
 though but three hundred leagues distant, than there is now 
 [1826] in one from L'Orient to China, which is a distance of 
 seven thousand." This statement alone is sufficient to show 
 that the reduction of marine dangers in modern times a re- 
 duction mainly due to astronomy has been sufficient, ten 
 times over, to stimulate into vigor a struggling trade; and 
 hence that that rich Oriental commerce which lived and nour- 
 ished, and in the hands of the Venetians, and the Portuguese, 
 and the Dutch, poured wealth into Europe, in spite of the in- 
 definite perils and perpetual losses of the tedious voyage by 
 the Cape, during which the capital lay a dead investment 
 that commerce which enriched its possessors, must, under the 
 almost boundless development given to it by the favoring cir- 
 cumstances of modern times, have contributed to the world's 
 wealth to an extent which no figures can compute. 
 
 The condition of the astronomical tables at the founding of 
 the Eoyal Observatory was such that they could not by any 
 possibility be made the basis of a method of practical naviga- 
 tion, since the place of a ship as determined by them, might 
 possibly be in error to the enormous extent of nine hundred 
 miles ; nor was it in the power of any correction practicable 
 without new and laborious observation, to reduce this limit of 
 error to less than one-fourth of its amount, or nearly two hun- 
 dred miles. On the establishment of observatories, the first 
 and largest steps toward improvement were comparatively 
 rapid and easy ; the more recent have, on the contrary, been 
 slow and difficult. In the lifetime of the first public astrono- 
 mers the outline of a satisfactory method of navigation by the 
 stars still failed to appear. The moon, " the inconstant moon," 
 had still to be watched through many a weary revolution. 
 Not till near the close of that long period, had astronomy pre- 
 sented to the world a method of ocean longitude, within the 
 outside limits specified by the parliamentary act of 1714. If, 
 then, to make but a modest approach toward theoretic perfec- 
 tion, when practical astronomy was yet on every side open to 
 easy improvement by the first comers, was a labor arduous and 
 slow, what must have since been, what must yet continue to be, 
 the toilsomeness of the task of working out its still higher im- 
 provement, and carrying it onward toward that standard of 
 
 Q 
 
226 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ideal perfection which science will continue to approximate 
 while the world stands, but, after all, will never fully attain. 
 
 Having thus shown the immense utility of astronomy to 
 the commerce of the world, the Letter proceeded to show 
 how the prosecution of astronomical studies had led to 
 an improvement in methods of mathematical calculation 
 which must ultimately prove to be of inestimable value 
 in every department of exact science. 
 
 The fact that the observations of to-night cannot be turned 
 to immediate account to-morrow morning, but that the accumu- 
 lated results of many observations are necessary to a single 
 additional step of progress, is one which places the science at a 
 great disadvantage, when its claims are canvassed in the world. 
 The incidental facts of discovery which are of a nature to be 
 generally understood, though they illustrate in no manner the 
 great and proper labors of these useful men, are often seized 
 upon by those who depreciate the value of astronomical re- 
 search, as if they were the objects and ends of astronomy. A 
 telescopic comet is announced, and the discoverer is rewarded, 
 perhaps, by a royal medal. Now, What of this comet? says 
 the objector, and, How is the world the better for its discovery ? 
 Well, for the present, we freely admit that we shall sleep no 
 warmer in our beds, nor wake any richer in the morning, on 
 account of it. Yet the reward is a just reward for vigilance, 
 and vigilance certainly is valuable. Experience has, moreover, 
 shown that the observation even of comets has no slight inter- 
 est in its relations to the theory of gravitation, to the physi- 
 cal condition of the realms of space, and to the permanence of 
 the system to which we belong. But let the comet go ; class it 
 with the Antarctic continent discovery by Wilkes, or with the 
 boomerang of his Feejee islanders. We are not happier or less 
 happy for the one or for the other ; yet the Antarctic continent 
 is, after all, a great fact; and the boomerang is a small one 
 which there was' surely no harm in recording. 
 
 The objector sometimes, however, unconsciously founds his 
 strictures upon discoveries which are not trifles. The under- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 227 
 
 signed had heard the question gravely raised, What advantage 
 has the world derived from the discovery of the planet Uranus ? 
 The fact, remarks the objector, is called an important one; and 
 yet mankind had got along very well without it. Now man- 
 kind got along well enough for a time without buttons and 
 without breeches ; and much longer without the printing press, 
 and without the steam-engine. Mankind felt no need of can- 
 non when there was no gunpowder, nor of telegraph posts 
 when there was no galvanism. Mankind got along very well 
 without Uranus, and could have got on much longer under 
 the same privation, had not Uranus been discovered. But to 
 say that the discovery has been of no use, this is an admis- 
 sion which we are not prepared to make. It has been of use, 
 as may be easily illustrated. 
 
 First, however, let attention be drawn to an analogous dis- 
 covery of somewhat later date, the history of which is both 
 curious and instructive and may best precede what relates to 
 Uranus. On the first day of January, 1801, the very first day 
 of the nineteenth century, the distinguished astronomer, Piazzi, 
 of Palermo, observed a minute planet, never before noticed by 
 human eye, since known by the name of Ceres. Compared 
 with Uranus it is but a sand-grain to a mountain. Compared 
 even with our moon, it is but an insignificant globule a 
 pepper-corn to an orange. Yet its discovery had a value. 
 Piazzi silently observed it, designing, so soon as he should 
 have satisfactorily determined its orbit, to surprise the world 
 by the announcement of a new member of the solar system ; 
 but it soon plunged into the overwhelming blaze of the solar 
 radiance, and was lost to view for months. Unable, from the 
 few observations he had gathered, to determine the path of 
 the stranger, Piazzi at length laid the observations themselves 
 before the astronomical world. The period of the probable 
 emergence of the body from its veil of light having arrived, 
 innumerable telescopes were directed toward the region of the 
 heavens in which its track was presumed to lie; but not all 
 the scrutiny nor all the perseverance of all the astronomers of 
 Europe could suffice to recover the lost planet again to human 
 view. Gradually a suspicion began to be whispered that the 
 pretended discovery was no discovery at all ; but that Piazzi 
 
228 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 had fabricated the observations with the malicious design to 
 puzzle and annoy his contemporaries. 
 
 Now, at about this very period, a mathematician of Ger- 
 many had had his thoughts turned toward a defect in the 
 existing state of astronomical science, in regard to the deter- 
 mination of planetary paths. While this defect continued, it 
 was impossible to test the question whether the observations 
 were genuine or not. The occasion stimulated him to supply 
 the defect; and the result, the TJieoria Motus Corporum 
 Coelestium of Gauss, was one of the most valuable contribu- 
 tions to mathematical science ever made. By the aid of the 
 Theoria Motus the path of the planet Ceres was traced 
 from the time when it escaped from the hands of Piazzi. 
 Gauss said to the astronomers, "Look yonder, and you will 
 find your truant star." They looked, and the little globule 
 was recovered on the first clear night thereafter. 
 
 Now, what the planet Ceres did for the world was to im- 
 prove mathematical science the science whose useful appli- 
 cations on the earth are infinitely varied, and without which 
 all our knowledge of the heavens derived from mere observa- 
 tion would be of no value whatever, either to navigation or 
 to any other end. And what the planet Ceres did, that the 
 planet Uranus has done in a different manner. 
 
 From an early period following its discovery, this planet 
 had been a very burden upon the patience of astronomers, 
 and a sore trial to their faith. From its motions as actually 
 observed, its prospective motions, as they ought to be, were 
 deduced by computation, and its path was prescribed to it 
 with a confidence which the tested power of physical astron- 
 omy had rendered somewhat strongly assured. But Uranus 
 seemed very little to heed the dictates of the astronomers, 
 and the path which they assigned him was one in which he 
 chose not to walk. Moreover, after his discovery, the fact 
 presented itself that he had already been observed nineteen 
 times before, without being recognized as a planet once so 
 long before as 1690; and that when the positions which he 
 occupied at the times of those ancient observations were com- 
 pared with what they should have been according to the law 
 of his later motion, there was a disagreement to an extent so 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 229 
 
 large as to make it impossible to assign any path whatever 
 to this contumacious planet, so as to recognize the theory of 
 gravitation, and harmonize the old observations with the new. 
 Here was a case of real perplexity. It raised the question 
 whether the law of gravitation is, after all, a law which can be 
 universally relied on. Evidently the decision must go against 
 the law, unless it could be shown that some disturbing body, 
 heretofore overlooked, existed within the limits of the sys- 
 tem, and of which nothing was known except in the seeming 
 caprices of Uranus. The data on which to proceed were evi- 
 dently much slighter than when Gauss attacked the problem 
 of Ceres. Ceres had been seen; the unknown disturber of 
 Uranus, never. But as if to illustrate the truth that, as diffi- 
 culties accumulate, human energies correspondingly rise to 
 their encounter, it was not a single champion who rushed 
 forward to the support of troubled science; two simultane- 
 ously, with equal enthusiasm, equal perseverance, and equal 
 final success, attacked the difficulty, and bore off the plaudits 
 of the world. Leverrier wrote to his friend at Berlin, " Ex- 
 amine the point I describe, and you will find the disturber." 
 Galle turned his telescope in that direction, and in the self- 
 same hour, Neptune was found. Simultaneously, Adams laid 
 his finger on the map of the heavens, and said to the astron- 
 omer of Cambridge, " It is in this lurking-place precisely that 
 you will find the author of all our confusion." The astrono- 
 mer Challis, distrusting isolated observations, commenced a 
 systematic sweep of the whole region. He saw and recorded 
 the planet twice without knowing it, and failed to make the 
 discovery simply because he deferred the comparison of his 
 observations until too late. Thus, the benefit which has re- 
 sulted to the world from the discovery of Uranus is analogous 
 to that of which Ceres was the occasion: it has wonderfully 
 stimulated ingenuity in the improvement of mathematical 
 methods and has thus contributed to the advancement of that 
 science without which no other exact science can exist. 
 
 Why should the State of Mississippi participate in edu- 
 cational measures by which the science of the world is 
 enriched ? Why should not such pursuits be left to older 
 
230 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 communities? In answering these questions the Letter 
 addressed not only the reason of the people of the State, 
 but also their State pride. He observed that, for want 
 of institutions devoted to the higher studies, native tal- 
 ent would lack its necessary stimulus. It was true that, 
 when once aroused, talent would find ample opportunity 
 for education and exercise elsewhere ; but without home 
 institutions the likelihood was that it would never be 
 aroused to energetic activity. The number who might 
 be induced to enter on advanced studies through the 
 influence of such institutions might be few, but their 
 value to the State might be inestimably large. More- 
 over, it was universally conceded at the South that 
 Southern youth ought to be educated at home. The 
 Southern sentiment on that point was right, and it would 
 be right even if the South had no peculiar interests to 
 make home education especially important. Yet the fact 
 was that the flower of the Southern youth was still sent 
 to be educated at Northern schools. The excellence of 
 Southern schools was universally extolled ; indeed, the 
 praise bestowed upon them was so excessive and so indis- 
 criminate as to check the spirit of improvement by pro- 
 ducing in their managers a contented faith in their own 
 merits which was not by any means well founded; but 
 the true opinion of educated and intelligent parents was 
 quite practically shown by the simple fact that they did 
 not send their sons to the institutions of the South, 
 but to Northern institutions. Moreover, the judgment 
 of such parents was amply justified; for, unless the 
 enlightened course of the Trustees of the University 
 of Mississippi had made it an exception, " no institu- 
 tion of learning in all the South could justly claim for 
 itself an undeniable equality of merit with any one of 
 the older colleges of the North, and much less could any 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 231 
 
 Southern institution justly arrogate to itself superlatives 
 of praise." 
 
 But the excellences of an educational institution must be 
 caused by three things, the personal ability of teachers, 
 the methods of instruction, and the material appliances 
 provided for imparting instruction. The first and second 
 of these elements of excellence might be dismissed in a 
 comparison of Southern with Northern schools, because 
 the Southern teachers were in many instances men of 
 undoubted ability, and the methods of instruction were 
 the same in both sections of the country. The difference 
 must therefore be sought in the defect, at the South, of the 
 means and appliances which are necessary as auxiliaries 
 to the highest instruction, and the remedy for that defect 
 would be found in supplying what was needed, not in 
 denouncing any one for observing its effects, nor, as- 
 suredly, in denying that the defect existed. The Trus- 
 tees of the University of Mississippi at a meeting in 1856, 
 had unanimously accepted the correctness of the principle 
 that whatever attractions, and of whatever kind, might be 
 operating to draw the youth of Mississippi to institutions 
 of learning beyond the State, the same attractions ought 
 to be created at the University of Mississippi. Much had 
 been done to carry out that principle. The philosophical 
 apparatus was unsurpassed by that of any institution on 
 the continent, and in some respects it was unequalled ; 
 its mineral collections were unrivalled except in the rich- 
 est cabinets of the country; in conchology it had a 
 treasure which no other institution could approach. 
 Astronomy was still deficient in the necessary apparatus 
 and appliances; and yet the aid of the University had 
 already been sought by the authorities of the United 
 States in making observations which were to be simul- 
 taneously made in other institutions, and in the results of 
 
232 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 which the whole world was interested. The very fact 
 that the University of Mississippi was so recognized was 
 a valuable distinction, and if the invitation were accepted, 
 the reputation of the University would be instantly en- 
 hanced, since it would at once take rank with institutions 
 of the highest scientific distinction throughout the world. 
 The effect which such a reputation must immediately 
 have on the prosperity of the University could not be 
 doubtful. The State itself would gain in reputation 
 before the world, as an enlightened community, and it 
 would deserve its reputation, because in promoting letters 
 and science it would be using means which the history of 
 mankind has shown to be universally efficient in making 
 the people of any community happier and better. Not 
 only would the higher learning be advanced, but prepara- 
 tory schools would be constrained to advance in like 
 measure, and so a class of competent teachers would be 
 raised up to supply satisfactory instruction in the com- 
 mon schools. In short, there was no great interest of the 
 people of the State which would not, in time, be directly 
 or indirectly promoted by the advance of the State Uni- 
 versity to the point of excellence which such an institu- 
 tion ought to endeavor to attain. 
 
 If it was objected that the State was still too new, and 
 that its wealth was not yet sufficiently large, for such 
 undertakings as were now proposed the answer was a cate- 
 gorical denial of the statement. In the sense of a political 
 organization, the State of Mississippi was new indeed, 
 but only in that sense. The people of Mississippi were 
 not beginners in the duties or habits of citizenship. They 
 had been trained to the life of citizens from their birth, and 
 all that was asked of them was to do as their fathers had 
 done, and as they themselves would have done elsewhere. 
 Their wealth was ample for all that was proposed, and the 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 
 
 wealth of the State was constantly increasing, but even 
 that wealth need be drawn upon to only a small extent 
 and for a limited time, until the endowment of the Uni- 
 versity should be made available for the purposes for 
 which the State had received it, and to which the consti- 
 tution of the State required it to be applied. The great- 
 ness of a State consists, not in mere wealth, but in the 
 moral and intellectual enlightenment of its people ; and 
 the glory of a great and wealthy State consists in so using 
 its wealth as to minister to these ends. Noble institu- 
 tions of learning are evidences of the true greatness of 
 a State. "What are structures of polished marble or 
 ponderous granite compared with the majestic creations 
 of the intellect? And what though it be given to a few 
 to assist personally in lifting to a loftier and still loftier 
 height the proud temple which successive generations have 
 reared to science in the midst of the nations, surely no 
 one can be insensible to the sublimity of an edifice whose 
 foundations are as broad as the foundations of the earth 
 and whose vaulted dome is studded with the stars of 
 heaven ! " 
 
234 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 Effect of Barnard's Letter to the Trustees Two years of progress 
 Barnard and the University of the South Discouragement Report 
 to the American Association for the Advancement of Science on the 
 Coast Survey of the United States The astronomical observatory and 
 its telescope A petty persecution A case of discipline Charges 
 against Barnard of unsoundness on the slavery question His defence 
 and acquittal Barnard's views on slavery A Union man at the 
 South Thanksgiving discourse in 1856 A letter from Jacob Thomp- 
 son A meeting with Jefferson Davis The astronomical expedition 
 to Labrador Barnard is elected president of the American Associa- 
 tion for the Advancement of Science. 
 
 CHANCELLOR BARNARD'S Letter to the Board of Trus- 
 tees of the University was read with interest and sat- 
 isfaction far beyond the borders of Mississippi. He 
 received from many eminent men hearty congratulations 
 on the service he had done to education. From Dr. 
 Orville Dewey, a native, like himself, of Sheffield, he 
 had a commendation which particularly gratified him. 
 
 I have read your Letter [said Dr. Dewey] throughout with 
 interest, and the arguments for astronomy with more than 
 interest with a sort of triumph, as the cumulative statements 
 swelled up in a grand heap. Instead of praising you, which 
 I have hardly a right to do, I will tell you a tell from one who 
 has. Dr. Walker said to me that you had written better on 
 university education than any other mau in this country. 
 
 At home he was rewarded with more success than 
 he had hoped for. Though the Trustees could not ex- 
 pect that Barnard's proposals, in their larger sense, were 
 likely to be realized for many years, they set honestly 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 235 
 
 and vigorously about the work in behalf of which he 
 had invoked their immediate efforts. Yet he had to 
 encounter all the difficulties and discouragements which 
 reformers must expect from mere unintelligence in coad- 
 jutors who are heartily in sympathy with them, but who 
 do not, and can not, fully understand their whole mind. 
 He had this additional difficulty, that at every step it 
 was necessary to carry the public, and so to carry the 
 Legislature, with him, as well as the Trustees. It would 
 be idle to deny that under pressure of these difficulties 
 he sometimes felt discouraged, and was often perhaps 
 too often exasperated. But he never lost courage, 
 and for that he deserved no special praise, because his 
 work, as a whole, went steadily on, and he had good 
 reason to know that, if his projects could not be carried 
 successfully out in Mississippi, or if they could be carried 
 out only after too long a time, he would have no diffi- 
 culty in transferring his labors to some more hopeful 
 sphere. 
 
 The record of the next two years was one of constant 
 progress. The number of students rose rapidly; the 
 library was increased; the main building of the Uni- 
 versity was enlarged; a new dormitory and a second 
 boarding-house or Commons Hall were erected ; the pro- 
 fessors' dwellings were repaired and enlarged ; a gym- 
 nasium was provided ; new buildings were constructed 
 for the department of Natural Philosophy, and the Chem- 
 ical Laboratory was substantially rebuilt. Last of all, 
 Barnard's darling scheme of an Astronomical Observatory 
 was adopted and extended to include a Magnetic Obser- 
 vatory ; suitable buildings were erected for both, and 
 the necessary instruments for both were ordered. How 
 completely the Board of Trustees had committed itself 
 to his views of a State university was shown in their 
 
236 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Report to the Legislature of 1859, in which they declared 
 that "the sense of the people of Mississippi demanded 
 and favored the elevation of the University into a school 
 such as its name denotes a school of Universal Instruc- 
 tion." But for the beginning of the war between the 
 States in 1861, there is little reason to doubt that special 
 scientific schools of various kinds would have been inau- 
 gurated in the course of that year. 
 
 Even in 1858 Barnard's Letter had the effect of making 
 public education a subject of unusual interest at the 
 meeting of the Legislature, and while some of the projects 
 which were discussed there were wholly impracticable, 
 he sedulously encouraged the discussion. To his intimate 
 and confidential friend, Dr. Hilgard, State Geologist of 
 Mississippi, he wrote under date of November 11 : 
 
 I wish you would give Howry any advice and help you can 
 on University matters. Favor the agricultural project. What- 
 ever practical absurdity it may for the present involve, if it 
 helps to continue the sinews of war or to fund the debt, it is 
 all well. I have told Howry to encourage it by all means, 
 but to say at the same time that it can't be managed without 
 money. Of course it will be an excrescence ; it can't be a part 
 of undergraduate instruction. Encourage the Normal idea; 
 but maintain that it will require special methods, and be just 
 as distinct an addition to labor as if a new department or two 
 were to be added to our present course. The Normal School 
 must, in fact, be an independent department. It will require 
 more officers and more money, but it will be a grand thing 
 for the State. 
 
 Again, under date of December 1, he wrote to the same 
 correspondent : 
 
 I am glad to see that education is in so high feather in 
 Jackson. I am encouraged to hammer away upon the same 
 old anvil. Nothing prevents me but the cost of publishing, 
 even though I " print at the North " cheaply. If the Board 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 237 
 
 would foot the bill, I would put out for popular circulation, 
 some sockdolagers on the economy of educating the people by 
 a thorough and efficient system of common schools, subject to 
 a common direction and supported mainly by public appropria- 
 tions. I would, in short order, break up the popularly diffused 
 error which assumes antagonism between the higher and the 
 lower education. 
 
 When a man of real power makes his power felt in any 
 community, he begins to be in request for positions in 
 which such power as he possesses are required, arid the 
 forceful intellectual energy which Chancellor Barnard 
 was exhibiting led to more than one intimation that he 
 might, if he would, be called to some other position of 
 eminence in education. He was particularly pleased with 
 a suggestion that the office of Vice- Chancellor, that is, of 
 active head, of the University of the South might be 
 offered him. It may be said without exaggeration that 
 the scheme of the University of the South, at the time 
 when it was first proposed by Bishop Polk of Louisiana, 
 was the grandest scheme of a great university which had 
 ever been conceived in this country. It was wholly 
 original with Bishop Polk, a fact which is the more 
 remarkable, as he was not himself a university man, but 
 a graduate of West Point. He had all Dr. Barnard's 
 aversion for the dormitory system, which he abhorred 
 rather than disliked. He had formulated and proposed 
 to the other Southern bishops the complete plan of a 
 literary, professional, and scientific university, including 
 schools for the acquisition of all learning, more than a 
 year before Dr. Barnard published anything on that sub- 
 ject, and on reading Barnard's Letter, he at once opened a 
 correspondence with him. Their views were similar; 
 their aspirations were thoroughly sympathetic ; there was 
 much in the more than half -imperious positiveness of the 
 
238 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 college-bred professor which was allied to the soldierly 
 character of the quondam cadet of West Point, now a 
 bishop, who was soon to fall in battle on a bloody field. 
 Barnard was inspired with the grandeur of Folk's plans 
 and with the good assurance of their fulfilment, which 
 nothing but civil war disappointed. Polk, on his part, 
 saw in Barnard a breadth of thought and a force of char- 
 acter which might be of inestimable value in the organiza- 
 tion of the University. Bishop Green of Mississippi was 
 enthusiastic in his advocacy of Barnard as the one man to 
 be secured, and to be secured, if possible, at once, to join 
 in the preliminary work of the enterprise, and for that 
 purpose to visit and study the educational institutions 
 of all kinds, including the gymnasiums, upper schools, 
 technical schools, and universities of Europe, so as to be 
 prepared with detailed plans for every department of the 
 new institution. For a time this prospect dazzled Barnard 
 and made him restive under the petty difficulties and ob- 
 structions with which he had to contend at Oxford, and 
 he was disappointed and annoyed that Bishop Green's 
 plan was not adopted without delay. He was hard 
 worked at this time, and through the few letters which 
 have been preserved there runs a certain tone of irrita- 
 bility, alternating and contrasting with a tone of eager 
 but confident hope. Thus on July 1 (1859) he writes to 
 Dr. Hilgard : 
 
 Had the Bishop [Green] here a very pleasant time. He 
 said it wouldn't be in the way of a man of science to be a 
 Eoman Catholic, if he wanted to belong to the University of 
 the South. This was said apropos of the present Mississippi 
 State Geologist, whom he considers a man of more merit 
 decidedly than his predecessor. He told me that, if it could 
 be fixed, he wanted me to go to Europe next year at the 
 expense of the University of the South, but without resigning 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 239 
 
 here, say on furlough from this institution. The only trouble 
 he apprehended was that no provision of funds had yet been 
 made. He said, without any pumping or fishing, " You shall 
 be President of the University, if I can make you so." He 
 had formerly hinted more vaguely that they would want me ; 
 this time he was more explicit. I have begun, therefore, to 
 form my staff, and I have named my Master of the Horse 
 from the geological field of Mississippi. I hope he will find 
 domestic bliss on the Sewanee Mountain. N. B. that you are not 
 to trumpet abroad this matter of the University of the South. 
 Bishop Green says, " I want you to stay here [Oxford] three 
 years longer." Serving a pretty good space for Eachel ! 
 
 Towards the close of the year his mood has changed, 
 and he writes, on November 11, as follows : 
 
 MY DEAR HILGARD : The M. D. made a failure after all. I 
 told him when going on that I hardly knew how to bid God- 
 speed to a young man bent on the insane and suicidal 
 suicidal so far as happiness is concerned, certainly pursuit 
 of a professorship in a Southern college ; told him, as the re- 
 sult of my own experience, that if I stood in life where he 
 was, I would take up any mechanic art, I would even be a 
 private soldier or a day laborer, before I would again be an 
 officer in a Southern college. But my flint is fixed ; my des- 
 tiny is marked out. 
 
 A few days later (November 16) he writes : 
 
 The misery of a situation in Mississippi consists in the 
 destructive tendencies of the people. I wrote Young only a 
 week ago that so intolerable is the feeling of uncertainty of 
 the future, that I would rather occupy the humblest station 
 anywhere, where human affairs had any stability, than the 
 highest here. As I have thought it quite possible not only 
 that the University would not secure anything more from 
 the Legislature, but that even the $20,000 law might be re- 
 pealed at this session, and possibly a successful assault might 
 be made on the charter itself, of course I have had my appre- 
 hensions also for your interests. The failure of an immediate 
 
240 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 explosion here has surprised me. I attribute it in some meas- 
 ure to the Governor's very emphatic language ; for though he 
 has greatly lost political strength, and mainly by one un- 
 fortunate act of clemency, yet no one doubts his judgment, 
 and a very small potato would only look smaller in attacking 
 the University or its intrinsic merits. While I ascribe a good 
 deal of the singular quietness of the electric fluid to the 
 paratonnerre of the Governor, I take some small amount of 
 credit also for my own publication and Stearns', though both 
 of them were " printed at the North." You see it is easy to 
 call men fools when the public has no evidences to judge them 
 by ; but after those publications I suppose the sciolists will be 
 likely to seek other grounds of complaint. Not that the pub- 
 lications contain much in themselves, but they are adapted, in 
 my opinion, to show asses how little they know. As to C.'s 
 opposition, it is practically of no importance; but I regard the 
 University as a thing too far above the ruling stupidity of the 
 day to be a success ; and therefore I do not expect to stay here 
 beyond another year or, at most, two. 
 
 Indeed, I have for some months been seriously thinking of 
 resigning and leaving the State in July next. My mind will 
 be decided in the course, probably, of this session. Several 
 propositions were thrown out to me tentatively while I was at 
 the North. They all had the one most welcome feature which 
 belongs to nothing in Mississippi, peace, tranquillity, perma- 
 nence. I did build a little on assurances made to me by mem- 
 bers of the Trustees Trustees ! I share your disgust at that 
 word of the University of the South. Now, I begin to 
 believe that the thing is going to be a good deal like "Direct 
 Trade with Europe," "Norfolk Steam Ferries," et id genus 
 omne. If they would put a practical and energetic man at 
 the helm, it would do; but with ten bishops to manage it 
 Southern bishops, moreover what is it likely to amount 
 to but vox you know the rest. 
 
 Ebullitions of impatience like the foregoing were in- 
 dulged only in the confidence of intimate friendship; to 
 those who did not enjoy his perfect confidence he bore 
 himself with entire serenity, and if he secretly fretted 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BAKNARD 241 
 
 at trivial difficulties or resented what he deemed to be 
 needless delays in the execution of his plans, he sought 
 the scholar's natural satisfaction in intellectual occupa- 
 tion. At a meeting of the American Association for the 
 Advancement of Science, held in Montreal in August, 
 1857, he had been appointed one of a Committee of 
 Twenty to inquire into the Coast Survey of the United 
 States and report to the Association. 1 Soon after the 
 meeting, Judge Kane, who had been named as Chairman, 
 addressed a circular letter to his associates of the Com- 
 mittee, setting forth the topics on which it was especially 
 desirable that they should present a report, but at the 
 same time advising them that he did not wish to "cir- 
 cumscribe the range of their communications, nor indeed 
 to define the subjects which should enter into the report." 
 He said that, unless it should be otherwise ordered by the 
 Committee, it would be his object " to submit to the Asso- 
 ciation, and through it to the community, a popular view 
 of the objects and course of the Survey, and of the 
 influence it is exerting, and may continue to exert, on 
 different interests of the country." In conclusion he 
 begged his associates, as a personal favor to himself, to 
 give him their earnest cooperation in preparing the mate- 
 rial of the report. This courteous appeal had all the 
 
 1 The members of this committee were as follows : Judge J. K. Kane, 
 Pres. Amer. Philos. Soc., Pa., Chairman ; Gen. J. G. Totten, Chief Eng. 
 U. S. A. ; Profs. B. Peirce, Harvard ; John Torrey, U. S. Assay Office, 
 N. Y. ; Joseph Henry, Sec. Smithsonian Institute, D. C. ; J. F. Frazer, 
 Univ. Pennsylvania; Wm. Chauvenet, U. S. Naval Acad., Annapolis; 
 F. A. P. Barnard, Univ. Miss. ; John Leconte, Col. of S. C. ; Wm. M. 
 Gillespie, Union Col., N. Y. ; F. H. Smith, Univ. Virginia ; W. H. C. 
 Bartlett, U. S. Mil. Acad., West Point; Wolcott Gibbs, Free Acad., 
 N. Y. ; Stephen Alexander, Col. of New Jersey ; Lewis R. Gibbs, Charles- 
 ton Col., S. C. ; Joseph Winlock, Sup't Am. Naut. Aim., Ky. ; James 
 Phillips, Univ. N. C. ; William Ferrel, Nashville, Tenn. ; Edward Hitch- 
 cock, Amherst Col., Mass. ; James D. Dana, Yale Col., Conn. 
 
 B 
 
242 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 effect that the distinguished Chairman could have desired. 
 There was a general response to his request for contribu- 
 tions, and some of the members of the Committee replied 
 at considerable length; but on February 21, 1858, before 
 these papers could be completely analyzed, or even ar- 
 ranged, Judge Kane died, justly lamented wherever his 
 name was known. At the meeting of the Association, held 
 at Baltimore in the month of April following, Chancellor 
 Barnard, though he was not present, was appointed Chair- 
 man of the Committee, and the whole work of preparing 
 and publishing the report was entrusted to him. He found 
 it to be no easy task. The wide range of topic and treat- 
 ment suggested by Judge Kane had been somewhat liber- 
 ally construed, and it was no light labor to unite and 
 condense the various contributions into one clear and 
 consecutive report. In his present irritable frame of 
 mind Barnard was none too gentle in his criticisms of 
 the work of his colleagues. On October 23 he wrote 
 to his friend Hilgard: 
 
 If I don't write you, you mustn't mind it for the present. 
 I have sixteen [University] exercises per week three a day, 
 except Saturday, and I am so interrupted that I am nearly 
 crushed with my official work. I have had the Coast Survey 
 on hand. It has to be wholly re-written. I would not give 
 two straws for all the material furnished, except that which 
 came from the Coast Survey Office itself. I have two other 
 literary tasks also, 1 which I could less easily explain ; and such 
 has been the constant succession of interfering causes that, 
 with the pile of papers all the time by me, I have not been 
 able to add one line to the report for nine days. So you see 
 I must now there seems to be a cessation for the moment 
 
 1 Probably an essay on " The Pendulum," published by Van Nostrand, 
 N. Y., 1859, and a contribution to the proceedings of the American Asso- 
 ciation for the Advancement of Science, "On the Means of Preserving 
 Electric Contacts from Vitiation by the Spark." 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 243 
 
 use all my time, night and day. In fact, I have cut into the 
 night heavily several times already. I have got the heft in 
 the Yankee, not the German sense off my hands, as far as 
 composition goes. It is true the tail-piece is to be made, and 
 some of the crude compositions of the savans none of them 
 creditable, if published as they stand are to be worked in, 
 if possible. Now the task is to copy for it must all be 
 copied; Joseph's coat of many colors would be uniformity 
 itself compared with the MS. as it stands. Hie labor, hoc 
 opus est. I will write you as often as I can. I suppose no 
 good is to come of the Legislature. I am in a frame of mind 
 in which I care little personally either way. I am inwardly 
 strong in the consciousness of having done my duty and in 
 the conviction that I have done some work here which will 
 not die with me. If they break down the University, I am 
 content with my part in the verdict of posterity. 
 
 The Report on the Coast Survey was published in 
 November, 1858. It was signed by all the members of 
 the Committee, but in form, as in fact, it was a personal 
 report. In an " Introduction Explanatory," Barnard 
 narrated the history of the work. He told how it had 
 been put into his hands and the difficulties with which he 
 had had to contend in discharging the duty imposed upon 
 him. In conclusion he tendered his thanks to those of 
 his associates whose contributions had come into his 
 possession, for the valuable aid they had afforded him. 
 Beyond this merely formal recognition of them he did not 
 go. The work was honestly his own, and he published it 
 in such a form that it should be known to be his. It 
 was a pamphlet of nearly ninety pages octavo, closely 
 printed, but although it was recognized as a work of 
 great ability, and had the immediate effect of putting its 
 author as high in the ranks of men of science as he already 
 stood as an educator, it would be needless and out of 
 place to attempt here to analyze its contents. During the 
 
244 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 same year in which the report was published he delivered 
 an oration before the Society of the Alumni of Yale 
 College on " The Special Responsibilities and Opportuni- 
 ties of Educated Men as Citizens," and in the following 
 year he was admitted by his alma mater to the degree of 
 Doctor of Laws, which had already been conferred upon 
 him by Jefferson College, Mississippi. 
 
 Meanwhile he was pressing on, as well and as rapidly 
 as possible, in the preparatory work of the Astronomical 
 Observatory of the University, and also of a Magnetic 
 Observatory for the automatic registration of the various 
 elements of terrestrial magnetism. In 1859 the buildings 
 were completed, and the instruments were ordered from 
 the best makers. The construction of the telescope was 
 committed to Mr. Alvan Clark of Cambridge, Massachu- 
 setts. The lens of the telescope in the Observatory at 
 Harvard was fifteen inches in diameter. Barnard ordered 
 a lens of nineteen inches, which Clark at first hesitated to 
 undertake. He proposed instead to construct a lens of 
 the same dimensions as that of Harvard, offering to test 
 it, when completed, in the Harvard tube, and then to give 
 it to Barnard for nothing if it were not found to be equal 
 to the Harvard glass. Barnard insisted on the construc- 
 tion of a glass of nineteen inches, and was ready to comply 
 with the usual terms of such orders, which required the 
 payment of one third of the stipulated price in advance, 
 one third when the glass had been so far ground as to be 
 evidently perfect, and the remainder on the completion of 
 the instrument. Mr. Clark declined to receive any 
 part of the price before the instrument should be finished. 
 Unfortunately it was not until the summer of 1861 that 
 he was able to announce its completion. The country 
 was on the brink of civil war when Barnard received a 
 letter informing him that if he would visit Cambridge 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 245 
 
 about the end of June, he would then be able to make 
 an observation through his telescope. At that very time, 
 however, postal communication between the North and 
 the South came to an end, and travel without passports 
 ceased. The telescope was forgotten in the whirl of 
 popular excitement. It could not be delivered, and it 
 was never paid for. It is now mounted in the Dearborn 
 Observatory at Chicago. Its lens is about eighteen inches 
 and one-half in diameter. The instruments for the Mag- 
 netic Observatory were made by Mr. Wurdemann of 
 Washington ; the building was ready to receive them, 
 and Mr. Wurdemann was nearly ready to deliver them 
 when the outbreak of the war put an end to the whole 
 scheme on which so much time and earnest labor had 
 been expended. 
 
 But the telescope, at least, was destined to have an 
 auspicious opening of its service to astronomy. In 1862, 
 when Barnard had just reached Washington, one of the 
 first persons he chanced to meet was Lieutenant, after- 
 wards Admiral, Gilliss, who exclaimed, "I have just 
 been in Cambridge to test your telescope. The glass has 
 not yet been mounted in a tube, but it has made an im- 
 portant discovery already. It has detected a companion 
 to Sirius ! " In a subsequent visit to Cambridge Barnard 
 heard the story from Mr. Clark himself. In testing 
 glasses, it was Clark's custom to mount them on a long 
 swinging pole, like a well-sweep, fixing the glass firmly 
 at one end and attaching to the other end a short tube 
 containing the eye-pieces. In testing Barnard's glass, he 
 had directed the apparatus towards the dog-star, while 
 the star was still concealed behind a corner of the house. 
 His object was to see how long the brightness of the star 
 might be perceptible before the star itself came into the 
 field of view. While he observed the time, his son used 
 
246 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 the eye-piece, and as soon as Sirius appeared, the younger 
 Clark exclaimed, " It has a companion ! " The obser- 
 vation was immediately verified, and the elder Clark 
 always expressed his regret that he himself had not been 
 the first to see the companion of the dog-star. 
 
 Towards the close of 1859 and in the beginning of 1860 
 Barnard was greatly annoyed by a petty persecution, the 
 motive of which was purely personal, but the pretext of 
 which was an allegation that he was not a trustworthy 
 citizen of the South. This was a charge which it was easy 
 to make against a man of Northern birth, and which was 
 both humiliating in itself and difficult to repel. There 
 was more or less disaffection towards him in the Faculty. 
 It would have been strange if his growing influence and 
 distinction had not caused some motions of envy among 
 his colleagues, and it is more than probable that his natu- 
 rally imperious temper and the irritability which he mani- 
 fested at that time of his life may have given some cause 
 of resentment. It does not appear, however, that more 
 than one of his colleagues was actively opposed to him, 
 and the occasion of dissension did little honor to those 
 who were concerned in it. The facts were these : One 
 of the students of the University who had been noted by 
 the Faculty in general as a disorderly and ill-behaved 
 person, entered Barnard's private premises during his 
 absence, and brutally maltreated a female servant. Bar- 
 nard, having assured himself of the fact of the assault, 
 wrote to the student, charging him with the offence and 
 advising him to withdraw. The young man called on 
 Barnard and made an unsatisfactory denial of the charge, 
 but agreed to withdraw. Two days later, as this promise 
 had not been fulfilled, Barnard wrote again, saying that 
 unless the student should leave immediately, he would 
 write to his guardian and give a full account of the 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 247 
 
 offence. The student then refused to leave the Uni- 
 versity without a trial before the Faculty, to which he 
 was entitled under the statutes. The trial was held 
 accordingly. The student pleaded Not Guilty, but he 
 afterwards explained that, although he had committed 
 the assault, he had not committed it at the time stated in 
 the charge, and was therefore entitled to plead that he 
 was not guilty as charged in the presentment. In his 
 defence he endeavored to prove an alibi, in which he was 
 thought by some of the Faculty to be successful, while 
 others thought that he failed. The truth probably was 
 that he may have succeeded in proving that he was not 
 on Barnard's premises at the time when the assault was 
 said to have been committed, but that he still left in the 
 minds of a majority of the professors a clear conviction 
 that he had committed the assault. The difficulty of the 
 whole case was that it was impossible to prove the fact 
 of the assault by the evidence of a white person, the only 
 white person who could have proved or disproved it re- 
 fusing to do either. A majority of the Faculty felt that 
 they were not at liberty to convict a student on evidence 
 which the State did not admit in courts of justice, that is to 
 say, on " negro evidence," and on that only at second hand 
 without direct examination and cross-examination of the 
 actual witnesses. In this opinion there can be little doubt 
 that the majority were right though the minority main- 
 tained that the Faculty were not so bound by legal rules 
 as to be debarred from rendering a verdict of Guilty 
 when they were fully satisfied that the accused was 
 guilty. In support of the view of the minority, instances 
 were cited in which much less strictness had been applied 
 in receiving evidence against a student ; but the intro- 
 duction of the negro question into the case sufficed to 
 make the majority immovable, and when a resolution was 
 
248 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 i 
 
 moved as the verdict of the Faculty, "That Mr. H., hav- 
 ing been found guilty of the offence charged against him, 
 be, and is hereby, suspended from the University," the 
 motion was lost by the following vote : 
 
 For the motion Barnard, Boynton, Moore. 
 
 Against the motion Richardson, Stearns, Whitehorne, 
 Phipps, Carter. 
 
 The following resolution was then offered : " That 
 although the Faculty are morally convinced of Mr. H.'s 
 guilt, yet they do not consider the evidence adduced 
 to substantiate the charge as sufficient, legally, to convict 
 him." This resolution was adopted by the following 
 vote : 
 
 For the motion Barnard, Stearns, Whitehorne, Moore, 
 Phipps. 
 
 Against the motion Richardson, Boynton, Carter. 
 
 A motion was then made to permit the minority who 
 had voted to sustain the charges against the accused to 
 spread on the record their reasons for that verdict. The 
 reasons which they desired to record were substantially to 
 the effect that his own conduct had furnished a serious 
 presumption against him ; that, in their opinion, he had 
 failed to prove an alibi ; that the only witness who could 
 have given evidence of his innocence had refused to 
 testify on that point ; and that a member of the Faculty 
 had declared that he knew the accused to be guilty on 
 the testimony of a third person, whom, however, he 
 declined to name. After a long discussion this motion 
 was carried, all the Faculty voting in the affirmative 
 with the single exception of Mr. Carter, who voted in the 
 negative. 
 
 It was not long before the secrecy of the Faculty meet- 
 ing was disregarded, and indeed Professor Carter denied 
 that he was bound by any obligation of secrecy in regard 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 249 
 
 to Faculty proceedings. It was soon published abroad 
 that Chancellor Barnard had tried to convict a student 
 on negro evidence, and he was accused of being inimical 
 to Southern institutions. For a time he paid no regard 
 to these rumors, but at length, stung to the quick by a 
 persecution for which he knew that there was no founda- 
 tion, he requested that a meeting of the Board of Trustees 
 should be held, and that the whole affair should be thor- 
 oughly investigated. The meeting was held at his re- 
 quest on February 29, 1860, when the charges which had 
 been made against him by one Dr. Branham in the pres- 
 ence of Colonel A. H. Pegues, a member of the Board, 
 were laid before the Board as follows: 
 
 1. That Barnard was unsound on the slavery question. 
 
 2. That he advocated the taking of negro testimony 
 against a student. 
 
 3. That a student was arraigned upon negro testimony. 
 
 4. That on the question of the expulsion of the student, 
 Barnard and two other Northern men voted in the affirma- 
 tive, while all the Southern men voted in the negative. 
 
 5. That during the discussion of the question Barnard 
 asked Professor Richardson whether he would not believe 
 his negro man against a student, and that, when Richard- 
 son said he would not, Barnard declared that he would. 
 
 6. That all the information in the case was furnished 
 by a negro woman. 
 
 7. That Barnard had stated that the woman had pointed 
 out to him the man who had assaulted her. 
 
 8. That notwithstanding the vote of the Faculty, Bar- 
 nard wrote to the student's guardian to take him away, 
 and that he did so. [This was true.] 
 
 9. In case the Board of Trustees refused to arraign and 
 try Barnard for taking negro testimony against a student, 
 Dr. Branham threatened to publish the whole affair in 
 
250 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The Mississippian over his own signature, and so make it 
 known to the people of the State. 
 
 These charges were laid before the Board by Barnard 
 himself in a communication in which he betrayed unusual 
 excitement. He said : 
 
 Of these allegations, and of the whole matter or matters 
 to which they relate, I invite the fullest and most searching 
 investigation on the part of your honorable body. I invite, 
 further, an examination into the tenor of my past life, not only 
 for the period of twenty-two years that I have spent in un- 
 wearied devotion to the cause of Southern education, but for 
 that earlier period of youth when I had not yet expected ever 
 to be a resident of a Southern State, but in regard to which I 
 have, providentially, in my possession testimonials by Southern 
 men of the most unexceptionable character. 
 
 If I entertain now, or if your investigation shall discover 
 that I have ever entertained, sentiments which shall justify 
 any man, however captious, in pronouncing me "unsound on 
 the slavery question," then, gentlemen, do your duty, and 
 remove me from a position for which I am morally disqualified. 
 
 But if, on the contrary, after the severest scrutiny of my 
 acts and my utterances, you find that the injurious allegations 
 by which it has been attempted to strike me down from my 
 post of usefulness and to expose me to public opprobrium, are 
 totally and entirely groundless and false, then I ask of you, in 
 justice to one who has for nearly six years honestly, conscien- 
 tiously, and faithfully consecrated to your service all the ener- 
 gies of his intellectual and physical being, to put the stamp 
 of your emphatic condemnation upon an outrage, in. my view, 
 without a parallel in the annals of civilization. 
 
 The investigation of the charges against Barnard by the 
 Board of Trustees was full and thorough. Every profes- 
 sor of the University was heard, and Dr. Branham also 
 appeared before the Board. The result was what might 
 have been anticipated. The Board adopted the two 
 following resolutions unanimously : 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 251 
 
 Resolved, That the charges are, in their opinion, wholly un- 
 sustained by the evidence, and that the said F. A. P. Barnard 
 stands fully and honorably acquitted of every charge brought 
 against him. 
 
 Resolved, That after a patient hearing and investigation of 
 all the testimony in the case, we, as Trustees, and as Southern 
 men, have found our confidence in the ability and the integrity 
 of the Chancellor, and his fitness for his position, increased 
 rather than diminished, and declare our full conviction that his 
 labors are doing great service to the cause of education and 
 science and placing the reputation of the University upon an 
 immovable basis. 
 
 This annoying incident might perhaps have been passed 
 over in silence, if it did not serve to illustrate the attitude 
 of Dr. Barnard as a man of Northern birth living at 
 the South before the war of the Rebellion. There were 
 scores of thousands of men at the South in much the same 
 position as he, and it will some time be the duty of the 
 historian of that period to trace the motives and influences 
 by which they were affected. In such an inquiry the true 
 sentiments of representative men will be difficult to learn, 
 and will often be misunderstood. In the case of Barnard 
 himself there is already a sort of mythology. He has 
 been represented as a fugitive from the South, as if he had 
 been driven away by violence on account of his known 
 aversion to the Southern cause. Nothing could be more 
 utterly untrue. The Branham charges were dismissed as 
 baseless slanders; to the last moment of his residence at 
 the South, more than a year after the outbreak of the war, 
 he was not even suspected of disaffection to the cause of 
 the South, and he was even offered a place of confidence 
 under the Confederate government. This fact will appear 
 further on. In the mean time it is proper to show his 
 sentiments on the slavery question. 
 
 There is nothing to show that he ever entertained any 
 
252 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 strong feelings on that subject. He was not a man whose 
 feelings governed his convictions. Born at the North 
 and under the influence of antislavery agitation, he was 
 brought up to regard slavery as an evil in itself and as a 
 misfortune to the country. Yet even in his youth, he 
 perceived the full force of the argument that property in 
 slaves was recognized in the Constitution of the United 
 States, and held that the Federal Government was bound 
 by the Constitution to protect slave property according to 
 the terms of that instrument. Hence Barnard was never 
 an abolitionist ; as long as the Whig party continued to 
 exist he was a resolute and ardent adherent of that party. 
 Before he went to the South he was inclined to favor the 
 African colonization scheme which contemplated the vol- 
 untary emancipation of the slaves by their masters, and 
 their deportation to the west coast of Africa. When he 
 had lived for a time at the South, he saw that the coloni- 
 zation scheme was visionary. Compulsory emancipation 
 was out of the question. There seemed to be no way to 
 the abandonment of slavery without some bloody revolu- 
 tion which it would be wickedness to precipitate. He 
 was not a man to waste his time or his energies on the 
 solution of insoluble problems, and there is no evidence 
 that he gave any large amount of thought to the slavery 
 question. He accepted slavery as an unwelcome fact ; he 
 acquiesced in it as an established fact ; he defended it as 
 a fact that could not, in his opinion, be annulled or 
 eliminated from the social state of the South ; and, finally, 
 he participated in it by becoming, of his own will, a slave- 
 holder. His course in public and private was perfectly 
 consistent from beginning to end. In the investigation 
 made by the Board of Trustees he was able to present 
 documentary testimony of unimpeachable authority, and 
 reaching back to 1837, that he was " a warm supporter of 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 253 
 
 Southern institutions," " and that on all important ques- 
 tions which might agitate the North against the South, his 
 actions and feelings would be truly Southern." After an 
 acquaintance with him of twenty years, men like Judge 
 Ormond and Mr. Garland were ready to testify that they 
 " had never heard his attachment to the institutions of the 
 South called in question," and that in their intercourse 
 with him they had never witnessed " anything in act 
 or speech calculated to induce a suspicion that he was not 
 entirely identified with the South and attached to her 
 institutions and domestic policy." This was not a merely 
 negative inference; it was supported by Barnard's own 
 positive declaration. In the presence of the Board he 
 said: 
 
 As to my sentiments on the subject of slavery, my record is 
 clear for my whole life. As for that early period of it when I 
 resided in New York, and before I ever thought of becoming 
 a citizen of the South, I submit extracts from letters written 
 by Southern men in 1837. . . . As to my nearly seventeen years 
 of residence in Alabama, the testimony of Judge Ormond and 
 President Garland, obtained without my knowledge, has been 
 presented. Of the sentiments I have consistently professed 
 since I came here, enough has been said by others. I was born 
 at the North. That I cannot help. I was not consulted in the 
 matter. I am a slaveholder, and, if I know myself, I am 
 " sound on the slavery question." 
 
 On the subject of the Union, Barnard was quite as con- 
 sistent as on the subject of slavery. He was a Union man. 
 Whatever political influence he had was always exerted in 
 fostering a spirit of loyalty to the Union. He contem- 
 plated the possibility of a disruption of the Union with 
 horror. Yet he had cast in his lot with the South, and he 
 stood by his section. When he found that he must send 
 a manuscript to the North, if he would have it well and 
 
254 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 cheaply printed, he did not hesitate to do so in spite of 
 the outcry that he ought to pay higher prices for inferior 
 work at home ; but he did feel that good work ought to be 
 done as cheaply at the South as at the North, and he was 
 never weary of exhorting the people of the South to 
 diversify their industries, so that they should not be de- 
 pendent on the North for work or for commodities which 
 they were amply able to provide at home. In his eager- 
 ness to promote Southern industrial independence he was 
 ready to cooperate even with the " fire-eating " radicals 
 whom he detested, and actually attended one of their con- 
 ventions, sitting patiently day after day for an opportunity 
 which never came to introduce a project for prepar- 
 ing a series of school-books to be published and used in the 
 schools of the South, which were then dependent on the 
 North as they still are for their whole supply. In these 
 feelings he was perfectly at one with the best men of the 
 South. Only an insignificant minority of the Southern 
 people desired disunion for its own sake, but all enlightened 
 Southerners desired the commercial and industrial inde- 
 pendence of their section ; and so did Barnard. However 
 strongly averse to disunion, there were very few men at the 
 South who did not apprehend that the growing abolition 
 sentiment at the North might give the power of the 
 national government into the hands of a party pledged to 
 interfere with Southern rights under the Constitution, and 
 in that event they knew that a disruption of the Union 
 would follow unless it were prevented by force. In this 
 apprehension Barnard shared deeply and anxiously. In 
 a Thanksgiving sermon delivered immediately after the 
 exciting presidential campaign of 1856, he gave no uncer- 
 tain expression to his love of the Union, but he spoke 
 with equal clearness and conviction of his forebodings 
 concerning it. An extract from this discourse may well 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 255 
 
 be given here, as it was submitted to the Board of 
 Trustees in Barnard's defence by his friend Colonel 
 Pegues in answer to the charges of Dr. Branham. The 
 sermon had been delivered at Oxford on Thanksgiving 
 Day, November 20, 1856, and had been published by 
 request. 
 
 A far graver menace than this seemed to spring out of our 
 disturbed relations with a portion of our own fellow-citizens 
 inhabiting a different section of our common country. The 
 year through which we have just passed has indeed, in this 
 respect, been the darkest of all which have left their record 
 upon the page of our country's history. It was this time no 
 trivial cloud which had suddenly gathered to darken for a 
 moment our political firmament, but it was one which had long 
 hung lowering in the distance, sometimes rolling up in formi- 
 dable masses toward the zenith, revealing in occasional flashes 
 the angry fires which were slumbering in its bosom, and again 
 subsiding for a time to less portentous dimensions, but never 
 wholly disappearing it was this which, during the last anx- 
 ious summer, the friends of God and of peace and of human 
 progress were breathlessly watching, as, in darker and still 
 darker volume, it spread itself over the entire heaven, and 
 seemed ready to burst into a storm whose violence should 
 shake the continent. 
 
 It is no purpose of mine to discuss the causes which, during 
 a long series of years, have fomented a state of feeling among 
 our people so much to be deplored, so fraught with danger to 
 our peace, so menacing to the permanence of our unity as a 
 nation. Such a discussion is not meet either for this place or 
 for this occasion. But it is proper and it is fitting, since the 
 catastrophe so tremblingly anticipated by so many anxious 
 hearts has been for the time may we not believe, in the pur- 
 poses of God, forever ? averted, it is proper and it is fitting 
 for me to remind you that this deliverance imposes upon you 
 a deeper debt of gratitude to your Almighty Benefactor than 
 any other national blessing which He has bestowed upon this 
 people since their original recognition into the family of 
 nations. 
 
256 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 That the union of these States was originally a benefit to 
 every member of the confederacy, I believe that no man has 
 ever doubted. That, so long as the principle of equality among 
 the several members, on the basis of which it was established, 
 remains intact, it must continue to be, no less than it was orig- 
 inally, a benefit to all alike, I believe to be just as undeniable. 
 That its disruption, therefore, in itself considered, must be 
 a calamity, and an incalculable calamity, admits in my mind 
 of not a shadow of doubt. Yet it is no less true, on the other 
 hand, that every benefit, small or great, of which the union is 
 the source, springs out of that simple basis just mentioned, 
 which is the foundation of the constitution ; and that, so soon 
 as that principle ceases to be recognized, so soon as the con- 
 stitution as administered ceases to be the constitution which 
 our fathers framed, then the Union is in fact, to all intents 
 and purposes, substantially dissolved already, and its formal 
 dissolution becomes a mere question of time. 
 
 In this simple proposition, unless I greatly err, is embodied 
 the deliberate conviction of far the greater number of our own 
 people. The feeling of attachment to the Union is nowhere 
 more ardent and nowhere more general than in these Southern 
 States. We love the Union because our fathers loved it, and, 
 for the honor and reverence in which we hold their memories, we 
 would cherish it as they cherished it before us. We love it, 
 because, with a faithful observance of its conditions, it is a fra- 
 ternal bond uniting in its wide embrace a vast and scattered 
 family whose members, however remotely separated geographi- 
 cally, are still one in origin, one in language, one in religion, 
 and one in their undying love of liberty. We love it because 
 its stability secures to us as a people a position of equality 
 among the great powers of the earth, and enables us to present 
 to other powers a front so imposing as to command universal 
 respect, and to repress the spirit of aggression from without. 
 And we love it because we believe it to be capable of securing 
 to ourselves at home the greatest political good of the greatest 
 number ; and because, still further, in the depths of that gloomy 
 chasm which its ruins must leave behind, we know not what 
 evils may lie concealed. If, therefore, this beautiful political 
 structure which our fathers reared is destined to be undermined, 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 257 
 
 ours will not be the sacrilegious hands which shall sap its 
 foundations. That practical sundering of the bonds which 
 unite us with our brethren, in which the real dissolution must 
 consist that invasion of the independence of sovereign States 
 and of the principle of equal rights, which treacherously sub- 
 verts the constitution while professing to observe it that 
 great wrong to humanity and sin against God will never be 
 our work. But, should this lamentable consummation be 
 brought to pass by other hands, and should all the valuable 
 ends for which the Union was established be successfully frus- 
 trated, then, when the temple of our constitutional liberties 
 shall have been spoiled of all its treasures, and the ark no 
 longer reposes in the sanctuary, let it not be imputed to us for 
 faithlessness or impiety, if we turn our backs upon the dishon- 
 ored edifice and refuse to worship longer within its desecrated 
 walls. It will not be we who will have dissolved the Union ; 
 it will be we who will have said, The Union is dissolved. 
 
 It would have been equally absurd to suspect that the 
 preacher who had uttered these sentiments was actuated 
 either by disloyalty to the Union or by any sort of hostility 
 to the South or its institutions. Yet it would hardly have 
 been possible to frame a more distinct declaration that the 
 triumph of the Free Soil party would be a virtual dissolu- 
 tion of the Union, which the South would only have to 
 accept and pronounce. In the success of that party he 
 agreed at that time with other Southern men in thinking 
 that the dissolution of the Union would be virtually accom- 
 plished, so that it would remain for the South only to ac- 
 cept the fact and say, " The Union is dissolved." Never- 
 theless, when the election of Mr. Lincoln took place, he 
 did not consider that event a sufficient reason for secession 
 from the Union. When secession followed, he deplored it 
 and "hoped against hope" for better times; but he pub- 
 licly acquiesced in it ; and after he had retired from the 
 University of Mississippi, the Board of Trustees, in a re- 
 
258 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 port to the Legislature of the State, pronounced a glowing 
 eulogy upon him, in which this passage occurs : 
 
 Still less has he ever mingled in political strife; yet it is 
 known that, since the bitter agitation of the slavery question 
 at the North, his pen has been wielded with effect in support 
 of the institutions of the South. All this, unfortunately, has 
 not exempted him from imputations growing out of his North- 
 ern birth. Yet we frankly say, if there is any ground for a 
 charge of want of sympathy with ns in our great struggle for 
 Southern independence, we have never seen its evidence. 
 
 The annoyances attending the Branham charges against 
 him lasted but a few months, and whatever evil influences 
 might have been anticipated from them were completely 
 dissipated by the action of the Board of Trustees, which 
 was immediately published and circulated throughout the 
 State. He was justified by good men everywhere, as a 
 kind and just master, who had done his duty in pro- 
 tecting his helpless servant against outrageous and brutal 
 treatment from a white man of bad reputation. The 
 feeling of Southern gentlemen was well expressed in a 
 letter written to him by Mr. Jacob Thompson : 
 
 WASHINGTON, D. C., Feb. 19, 1860. 
 
 DR. F. A. P. BARNARD : My dear Sir, Nothing could have 
 taken me more by surprise than the difficulty now thrown in 
 your way. I hoped most sincerely you would find the time to 
 pass this way on your way from Philadelphia. I wished to 
 hear what was the matter now up. But on Friday evening, 
 Macon, Mr. Sheegog, and Mr. Beanland, from Oxford, arrived. 
 I heard from them their understanding of the matter, and on 
 their version of the story I am wholly at a loss to understand 
 your accusers. Your fault is that you received information 
 from your servant girl which implicated a student, and you 
 acted on this information to reach the truth ; and this is set 
 down as showing your free-soil proclivities. If this be so, I 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 259 
 
 am the worst free-soiler in the State : I am a downright aboli- 
 tionist. No man strikes my negro that I do not hear his story. 
 I will listen to my negroes' grievances. Before God and man 
 I believe this to be my duty. No man has a right to touch 
 him or her without my consent, and he who would not do the 
 same would be despised by every man in Oxford. 
 
 The whole matter, as these young men relate it to me, is so 
 absurd that I can hardly credit their report. But I must 
 insist that you be not moved by these things. Have moral 
 courage to stand by your post and do your whole duty. Such 
 trials will only prove your firmness and worth, and the mis- 
 chief will fall on the heads of your adversaries. Your Friend, 
 
 J. THOMPSON. 
 
 Soon after this affair Mr. Jefferson Davis was at pains 
 to give very evident expression to his esteem for Barnard. 
 In the early summer of 1860 he visited Oxford to deliver 
 a political address. 
 
 His visit [says Barnard] occurred just after the investiga- 
 tion of my administration of the affairs of my office. As most 
 of the principal people of Oxford called on Mr. Davis at his 
 hotel, I went among the number. They arranged themselves 
 in a semicircle. It so happened that I was in the middle of 
 the crescent, and at one of its extremities stood the man who 
 had been my accuser. Mr. Davis glanced from one end of the 
 row to the other, and then, instead of beginning at either end, 
 he came straight to me in the middle, and offered me his hand. 
 The incident was a trifling one, but to the company there 
 assembled it had a profound significance. The next day 
 Mr. Davis called upon myself and my wife at the University. 
 The speech he made to the people during his visit was a 
 singularly eloquent one. As there was no hall in the village 
 large enough to hold his audience, he spoke in the public 
 square. From the flag-staff in the enclosure there floated over 
 the crowd a large United States flag. The burden of his 
 speech was the usual one of Southern rights and Southern 
 wrongs, but he expressed no desire to break up the Union. 
 On the contrary, he professed sincere attachment to it, pro- 
 
260 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 vided that under it his fellow-citizens could enjoy their just 
 rights. Pointing to the flag above him, he said, " I slept 
 under that flag for eleven years, and why should I desire any 
 other?" Of course he intimated that it was possible that 
 Mississippi might be driven out of the Union, but he sincerely 
 hoped no such disaster might arise. His speech was far from 
 being a decidedly disunion speech. In point of violence it fell 
 far short of many which I heard in those days from much 
 inferior men. The impression made upon me by Mr. Davis 
 was certainly far from unfavorable, and personally he seemed 
 to be a very amiable man. This impression was afterwards 
 very much strengthened by what I saw of him in Eichmond. 
 
 Barnard had many gratifying assurances of the undi- 
 minished confidence of his Southern friends, but he still 
 deeply resented the unfounded charge of secret disloyalty 
 to the Southern people whom he had served with zealous 
 fidelity for nearly a quarter of a century. It would be 
 difficult to estimate, or, indeed, to overestimate, the bit- 
 terness which then began to rankle in his heart against 
 the noisier champions of Southern principles and preten- 
 sions. Until the Branham investigation, he had opposed 
 them with impassioned argument, but without personal 
 feeling ; now his sense of personal wrong at once deepened 
 and justified the scorn and detestation with which he 
 regarded them. The labors and trials of the past few 
 years had somewhat strained him. For several months 
 he had been extremely irritable, and if he had not had 
 an opportunity of timely relaxation, the Branham affair 
 might have made him morbid. That opportunity came 
 to him, however, in a very gratifying proposal from 
 Professor Bache that he should accompany the Astronom- 
 ical Expedition which was then about to proceed to 
 Labrador. He accepted the invitation gladly, and left 
 Oxford to join the Expedition shortly before the annual 
 Commencement of 1360. His account of that expedition 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 261 
 
 may be best given in his own language though with some 
 considerable abridgment. 
 
 In 180 the American Association for the Advancement of 
 Science appointed a committee of twenty members to examine 
 and report upon the history and result of the American Coast 
 Survey. The chairman of this committee was Judge Kane of 
 Philadelphia ; but on his death a few months later, the chair- 
 manship was transferred to me. I spent a good deal of labor 
 in preparing the report of this committee, which was printed 
 in the following year, and was so satisfactory to Professor 
 Alexander D. Bache, the distinguished Director of the Survey, 
 that he became from that time forward one of my warmest 
 and most serviceable friends. He showed his friendship in 
 a very practical way when the outbreak of the Kebellion had 
 left me stranded with no apparent means of support ; but his 
 kindness did not wait so long for its first manifestation. In 
 1860, when it was proposed to send an expedition of American 
 astronomers to Labrador to observe the total eclipse which 
 occurred in July of that year, he invited me to join the party. 
 In order to accept this invitation it was necessary for me to 
 leave Mississippi a week or two before the Commencement at 
 the University. I obtained leave of absence, accordingly, and 
 reached New York on the eve of the day appointed for sailing. 
 Next morning I repaired to the steamer which was lying in 
 the harbor, but the chief of the party, Professor Alexander, of 
 Princeton, did not make his appearance. The hour for sailing 
 arrived. Professor Bache said to me, " You will have to take 
 the chief direction"; and so it seemed that I should be 
 obliged to do ; but at the very last moment, the head of Pro- 
 fessor Alexander appeared above the rail, and we were all right. 
 The expedition was of great interest to me, as it introduced 
 me to various and interesting meteorological phenomena of the 
 polar seas, including magnificent and almost nightly displays 
 of the aurora borealis, extraordinary refractions, duplications 
 and inversions of distant objects, and any number of icebergs 
 of most picturesque shapes. At one time I counted as many 
 as forty icebergs in the field of vision around us. Our voyage 
 extended to Cape Chudleigh, at the mouth of Hudson's Strait, 
 
262 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 and we called on the way at several interesting settlements of 
 Labrador fishermen. Our passage along the inhospitable 
 Labrador coast was not without its perils. That coast is 
 continuously rock-bound from the Strait of Belle Isle to Cape 
 Chudleigh, and is bordered with rocky islets which, at the 
 indentation of the coast in which the Moravian settlement is 
 situated, constitutes a perfect archipelago. Off this point on 
 our outward trip we were menaced by a storm, and our captain 
 thought it expedient to run in among the islands to find a safe 
 refuge. Late at night we cast anchor in what seemed to be a 
 favorable retreat; but next morning when we attempted to 
 run out to sea again, we found ourselves involved in the in- 
 tricacies of a labyrinth of water-ways. To make matters worse, 
 after we had expended some hours in the attempt at escape, 
 we ran upon a reef, where our steamer hung fast. We did not 
 spring a leak ; but in spite of all our efforts we could neither 
 advance nor retreat. The captain sent out a kedge anchor far 
 astern, and attaching the cable to our windlass, endeavored to 
 pull the ship back; but could not stir her an inch. Drop- 
 ping the kedge to the right and to the left, he found that he 
 could swing the vessel on its centre. All our hopes now 
 rested upon the possibilities of the tide. In certain books 
 the tides of Labrador were represented to rise thirty feet or 
 more, but we did not know the state of the tide. If it were 
 full, the prospect was that we should soon be left stranded 
 high and dry, and that we might be obliged to take to our 
 boats and endeavor to look up the Moravian settlement, with 
 the prospect, if we should find it, of remaining there a year or 
 two before we could be relieved, or, if we should fail to find it, 
 of starving on the rocks of Labrador ! There was an anxious 
 period of waiting, during which I kept my eyes upon some 
 rocky pinnacles that stood a little above the surface of the 
 water, endeavoring to judge by their apparent enlargement 
 or diminution whether the tide were rising or falling. For a 
 long time it seemed to me distressingly long there seemed 
 to be no change ; but by and by the rocky points appeared to 
 me to be sensibly diminishing. It was true ; the tide was low 
 and was just on the turn. After the flow had fairly com- 
 menced, the ship was gently lifted, and we were once more 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 263 
 
 free. But we had not escaped from our difficulties ; we were 
 still involved in the intricacies of the archipelago. Very soon, 
 however, we discovered that we were not entirely alone in the 
 world. At a distance from us we saw a moving object, which 
 proved to be a native Esquimau in his kayak. By signs we 
 called the stranger to our vessel. He looked at us with aston- 
 ishment, but readily climbed the ship's side and held up to us 
 a string of fish (dolphins, the sailors called them), each two or 
 three feet long. He was disposed to give them to us very 
 freely ; and the captain accepted them. In turn, he wished to 
 give something acceptable to the Esquimau, and offered a 
 bottle of whiskey, which the man slightly smelled and put 
 away with disgust. The captain then offered him sheets of 
 what the sailors call " hard tack/' that is sea biscuit having 
 about the consistency of granite. This the man seized with 
 great delight and with many expressions of thanks. We con- 
 cluded that he had been under the influence of the Moravian 
 missionaries, and our conclusion was presently confirmed by the 
 fact that he understood some words of German. We had no 
 German scholar on board, but one of our party [Oscar Lieber, 
 son of Dr. Francis Lieber of Columbia College] had a slight 
 knowledge of the language. Our communications with the 
 native, however, were conducted chiefly by signs ; and as the 
 captain desired to get out of the archipelago, the Esquimau 
 traced a map with water on the top of a sea chest, indicating 
 the course we ought to steer. Our visitor then departed in his 
 kayak, and by following his indications we found ourselves at 
 sea again. 
 
 This was the only native of the country whom we saw 
 unmixed with what may be called civilized society ; for that 
 term, I presume, might be applied to the communities of fish- 
 ermen 011 the coast who have intermarried with the native 
 Esquimaux. 
 
 Of the Esquimaux who had married with whites we saw 
 a good deal in the fishing settlements. At one point, called 
 Domino Harbor, we made a stop of two days. Our steamer 
 was one of small dimensions and was incapable of carrying a 
 supply of coal for a voyage of two thousand miles and back. 
 In going out we therefore made a stop out at Sidney in Cape 
 
264 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Breton, where we took in a supply and made a contract for an 
 additional supply to be sent to meet us in our return at Domino 
 Harbor. We accordingly stopped at Domino on our return 
 and met our supply schooner loaded with. coal. We reached 
 Domino on a Saturday morning and received our supply during 
 that day ; but we did not leave until Monday morning. The 
 appearance of Domino Harbor surprised me by its commodi- 
 ousness and security. It had the appearance almost of an 
 artificial dock in the form of a perfectly regular oblong rec- 
 tangle, half a mile long and about a furlong wide. On the 
 banks there was quite a village inhabited by fishermen, some 
 of whom spent their winters in Newfoundland, while others 
 remained upon that desolate coast throughout the year. Their 
 principal occupation was fishing, but they also practised hunt- 
 ing and trapping for furs, and many of them had very beauti- 
 ful skins for sale. The skins of the white fox were especially 
 beautiful, being of snowy whiteness. Our company made many 
 purchases, and some of us pretty well exhausted our funds in 
 doing so. One would hardly have supposed that coin would 
 be esteemed in such a settlement, but we soon found that the 
 value of a dollar was quite well understood by those simple 
 half-savages. We found also that they had decided religious 
 sentiments, and when they ascertained that there was a clergy- 
 man on board, they insisted that I should preach to them. 
 This I did on the Saturday night, taking for my text " Those 
 who go down to the sea in ships and do business on the great 
 waters," etc. I was a little uncertain about my psalmody, not 
 being a remarkable vocalist myself, and therefore I gave out 
 no hymn ; but as soon as the sermon was concluded some tune- 
 ful precentor in the congregation suddenly broke out in a burst 
 of melody which was promptly taken up by the whole congre- 
 gation. 
 
 Our captain had resolved to set sail the next day notwith- 
 standing that it was Sunday ; but the whole population pro- 
 tested. There were children who had not been baptized, and 
 the people desired to avail themselves of this opportunity to 
 secure a proper performance of that rite. Moreover, one of 
 these children was at a distance and had to be sent for. The 
 captain was prevailed upon to delay, but the child did not 
 
FKEDERICK A. P. BAKNARD 265 
 
 come. On Monday morning, when the impatience of the cap- 
 tain was such that he was about lifting the anchor, suddenly 
 a group of boats came thronging from the shore, the infant 
 was brought at the eleventh hour, and the baptism took place, 
 to the great satisfaction of the parents. 
 
 During the Saturday, while the coal was being taken on 
 board, I went out with a party of fishermen to catch cod. The 
 fishing was done with hook and line, and the bait was a small 
 fish which is caught in vast numbers, the fishermen dipping 
 them up, I believe, in buckets. When my party was ready to 
 go, it was discovered that the bait had been forgotten. My 
 companions applied to the nearest boat, which had a sort of 
 well in the middle, filled with bait. A bucketful was immedi- 
 ately dipped up out of the well and handed to us. I proposed 
 to pay for the supply, but our neighbors laughingly refused to 
 receive any money for it. When we had reached the fishing- 
 ground, we anchored and threw out our lines, and the voracity 
 with which the cod took the hooks was astonishing. The bait 
 was scarcely beneath the water before it was seized and swal- 
 lowed, and our arms were tired with pulling out .the endless 
 succession of fishes. On returning to the village, I wandered 
 about among the wretched inhabitants, and could hardly under- 
 stand how it was possible to maintain life under such condi- 
 tions. The cottages were built of slender fir saplings placed 
 close together and banked with earth on the outside. The 
 roof was formed in like manner, so that the cottages looked 
 rather like barrows than like houses. The smallness of the 
 timbers was not a matter of choice, because no tree on that 
 sterile soil attained a height of more than ten or fifteen feet. 
 The village was thronged with dogs, many of them large and 
 handsome. I spoke of them to an old fisherman, and he said, 
 " The dog is the Labrador horse." In point of fact, all trans- 
 portation is managed in those settlements with dogs harnessed 
 to sledges. Our company admired the dogs exceedingly, and 
 we bought several. I myself purchased a beautiful young 
 Newfoundland pup which I brought with me to New York. 
 At that season [the heat of summer] I did not dare take him 
 to Mississippi, and left him in charge of a workman at Fort 
 Tompkins on Staten Island, where my brother was in charge of 
 
266 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 a military construction. It was reported to me that the dog 
 died. I have always believed that he was stolen. 
 
 While we were at Domino we had a curious illustration of 
 the depth of the religious sentiment in this hybrid population. 
 Towards night on the Saturday afternoon, Mr. Lieber came 
 across a fur dress which an Esquimau woman was offering 
 for sale. It was very attractive, and Mr. Lieber desired to 
 buy it ; but not having the necessary amount of money with 
 him, he said to the woman, " Bring it over to-morrow morning 
 to the ship and I will pay you there." To go to the ship 
 was a small matter, for the people were constantly crossing 
 the harbor in their boats ; but the woman answered him, " I 
 can't sell it to-morrow ; to-morrow is Sunday." Mr. Lieber, 
 in telling the story, said that he had never been so conscience 
 smitten in his life. 
 
 I was very much interested in observing the process of 
 curing fish. The drudgery was principally done by the women, 
 who removed the head, the viscera, and the scales, and then, 
 splitting the fish completely through, spread it open on the 
 sands of the beach to dry. The whole shore was covered for 
 miles with these drying fish, which were turned over from 
 time to time to make the exposure more thorough and com- 
 plete. After the desiccation was sufficient the fish was gathered 
 up and heaped up in fish-houses, which were built on the 
 water's edge so that their contents might be readily transferred 
 to vessels coming to receive them. I went into some of these 
 fish-houses, and I was astonished to see how carelessly the 
 fishermen walked on the piles of fish, without any considera- 
 tion of neatness. The fish is their main food supply. What- 
 ever bread-stuff they use must be brought from towns in 
 Newfoundland or on the Bay of St. Lawrence, and of course 
 they have very little. They are about as badly off for vege- 
 tables, since the only soil they have is but a few inches deep 
 and hardly allows them to raise anything. The thinness of 
 their soil makes the burial of the dead a matter of some 
 dimculty. They told me that they had to transport the bodies 
 of their dead twenty miles along the coast to a place where 
 they could be decently interred. They felt their religious 
 privations very seriously. They told me that they were 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 267 
 
 visited once or twice a year by a bishop of the Anglican 
 Church from Canada ; but as they were inclined to dissenting, 
 and in fact to Methodist, sentiments, that was not very 
 satisfactory to them. Many of them seemed to have a desire 
 for reading matter, and I resolved that I would send them a 
 box of books and tracts after my return to New York, a 
 purpose which I am sorry to say I failed to fulfil. 
 
 I have said nothing thus far of the scientific object of our 
 expedition or of our success, which was very imperfect. The 
 central line of the eclipse which we had been sent to observe 
 passed slightly to the south of Cape Chudleigh, and as we 
 approached the line, we looked out for some convenient land- 
 ing place. Near the coast we found the bottom beneath us 
 so rocky and irregular that we were obliged to proceed very 
 slowly. In fact, for some distance we sent a boat ahead to 
 sound the passage for us. We also continually threw the 
 lead from each side of the vessel itself, and the irregularity 
 was such that we would occasionally find the bottom at a few 
 fathoms on one side and no bottom at all on the other side. 
 After some hours of this rather hazardous running, we dis- 
 covered the mouth of an inlet which admitted us to a capa- 
 cious bay several miles in depth and perhaps a mile in breadth, 
 affording us a secure land-locked harbor. We arrived a few days 
 before the eclipse, landed our instruments, and pitched our 
 tents. I think we had seven telescopes and several chronom- 
 eters; and besides these, we had a set of instruments for 
 magnetic observations for which a special encampment was 
 made apart from the astronomical camp. We had also a 
 wooden structure intended for a camera obscura on a large 
 scale. Several days and nights were devoted to the astronom- 
 ical determination of our position, and before the day of the 
 eclipse arrived each of the seven members of the astronomical 
 corps was assigned his particular duty. When the expected 
 morning arrived, we were grievously disappointed to find the 
 sky entirely overclouded. There were moments when the 
 sun seemed to be about to come out ; but it never did shine 
 clearly, and although we were able to observe one of the in- 
 ternal contacts, the main object of the expedition was entirely 
 lost. 
 
268 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Nothing could exceed the desolateness of the country 
 around us. The whole surface was covered with broken rock, 
 for the most part bare, but in many portions overgrown with 
 heavy moss which grew with great luxuriance in the brief, 
 warm summer. It formed a carpet in which the foot would 
 sink ankle deep and with no little danger of being pinched 
 between the irregularly placed stones beneath. We saw no 
 inhabitants, although one of our parties in an excursion came 
 across a deserted Esquimau hut which was filthy to the last 
 degree. We saw no animals except here and there a seal 
 swimming in the waters. 
 
 As our party embraced a number of assistants in the Coast 
 Survey, we took advantage of our stay in our harbor, which 
 we named " Eclipse Bay," to make a hydrographic survey of 
 that convenient haven, thinking that it might be of some use 
 to future voyagers on that coast. A lofty peak on the south 
 side of the harbor we named " Mount Bache," from the Super- 
 intendent of the Coast Survey. We did not ascend to the 
 summit of this peak, but we reached a height from which we 
 could look far out upon the ocean and could see immense ice- 
 floes, covering many square miles of surface, drifting slowly 
 down from Baffin's Bay. Considering our nearness to Green- 
 land, we had a strong desire to run across to Upernavik, but 
 we were obliged to deny ourselves this gratification for two 
 reasons : first, our supply of coal would probably not suffice to 
 last us till we could reach Domino if we extended our voyage 
 so far as Greenland ; and secondly, we had been enjoined to 
 get home in time to meet the American Association for the 
 Advancement of Science, which, in 1860, was to hold its annual 
 session at Newport, Ehode Island. We had plenty of time, as 
 we believed, but our homeward progress was unaccountably 
 slow. We hardly made more than six or eight knots an hour. 
 The cause of this sluggishness was discovered only after the 
 ship reached New York and was put into dry dock. It then 
 appeared that a timber forming a portion of what is called the 
 " false keel " of the vessel, had been turned around on a central 
 bolt so as to stand at right angles to the course. In this posi- 
 tion it formed a steady drag upon the progress of the vessel, 
 and lost us probably two or three days' time on our return. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 269 
 
 An accident which occasioned us a very serious danger hap- 
 pened to our binnacle also, but whether at the same time or 
 later we could not discover. When we were off the Nova 
 Scotia coast, not far from Cape Sable, we were enveloped in a 
 fog so heavy that we could not see each other through the 
 ship's length, much less any object outside. The captain 
 prudently reduced the ship's speed till it scarcely moved. 
 While thus slowly creeping along, we felt a heavy shock, and 
 it was perceived that the bow of the boat had struck an ab- 
 solutely vertical granite cliff. Fortunately we had suffered no 
 serious damage, and we thought it best to lie still until the fog 
 should lift. When it did so, we discovered that we had run in 
 between two reefs extending on each side of us out into the 
 ocean, so that there had been hardly more than space enough 
 for the ship to enter. If our course had been slightly different 
 either way, we should have run on one or the other of these 
 reefs and been completely wrecked. Our running ashore at all 
 was owing to the twisting of our binnacle, in consequence of 
 which, relying as we did upon the compass during the fog, we 
 had run many miles out of our way, and were close on shore 
 when the captain supposed us to be well out to sea. In spite 
 of all our efforts to reach Newport before the adjournment of 
 the meeting of the Association, we did not arrive until just 
 after it had adjourned. The return of the eclipse expedition 
 had been looked for in that session as an event of the greatest 
 interest, and though we were too late for the regular meeting, 
 most of the members were still in town, and gave us a very 
 enthusiastic reception at an evening meeting which was 
 immediately held. 
 
 Professor Alexander, the chief of the expedition, was the 
 retiring President of the Association, and he delivered an 
 elaborate address, in the course of which he mentioned some 
 of the incidents of the expedition. It appeared, too, that in 
 my absence I had been elected President of the Association 
 for the next following year, and of course, as President-elect, 
 I was called out, and spoke as well as I could at such short 
 notice. As the meeting for 1861 had been appointed for Nash- 
 ville, Tennessee, and the Civil War broke out before that 
 time, the meeting was indefinitely postponed by the standing 
 
270 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 committee, and the Association did not reassemble until 1866, 
 when it was called to meet at Buffalo, under my Presidency. 
 Owing to this accident I held the office continuously longer 
 than any other President. During the following year, 1867, 1 
 was absent from the country at the time of the meeting, and 
 did not then deliver the usual retiring address ; but in 1868, 
 when the Association met at Chicago, I was called upon to do 
 it and performed the duty. 
 
FBEDERICK A. P. BAKNAKD 271 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 Political excitement at the South The delusion of peaceful separation 
 
 Barnard's views expressed in letters to a friend The students of 
 the University enlist Barnard's resignation is not accepted Bar- 
 nard at the Convention of the Southern Dioceses Barnard's resigna- 
 tion accepted Visits military schools of South Carolina and Virginia 
 
 Applies to Mr. Davis for a passport On the fall of Norfolk Barnard 
 returns to the North Contrast between the North and the South 
 Barnard in the Coast Survey Service Letter by a refugee Treason 
 at the North following the tactics of treason at the South Earnest 
 support of the administration Two letters from General Sherman. 
 
 his return to Mississippi after the Labrador expedi- 
 tion Barnard found the State in a blaze of political excite- 
 ment in anticipation of the result of the presidential 
 election. Throughout the State there was a general feel- 
 ing that the election of Mr. Lincoln would both justify 
 and demand a disruption of the Union. But there were 
 many who stoutly maintained that it ought to have no 
 such effect. They did not believe that the mere election 
 of a Republican or Free-Soil President would create a con- 
 dition of things which would require a dissolution of the 
 Union, and still less did they think that the equal rights 
 guaranteed by the Constitution would be so impaired by 
 that event as to justify the Southern States in pronouncing 
 that the sacred bond of the Union had been virtually dis- 
 solved. They maintained that the guarantees of the Con- 
 stitution could not be held to have been overthrown by 
 the mere election of an executive who would be abso- 
 lutely powerless in the presence of an adverse legislature 
 holding both branches of Congress, and of a judiciary 
 which could be trusted to defend the Constitution against 
 
272 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 all invasion even by the combined powers of a President 
 and a Congress. The event, therefore, which Barnard 
 had admitted would not only justify but effect a dissolu- 
 tion of the Union, would not, in their opinion, be involved 
 in the election of Mr. Lincoln. Even after the election 
 there remained a strong feeling of reluctance to proceed 
 to extreme measures, and not a few of the more extreme 
 party began to doubt whether it would be wise, after all, 
 to fulfil the threats which had been made sincerely enough 
 during the heat of a political campaign. When Governor 
 Pettus announced his intention to summon the State Legis- 
 lature to take measures for calling a convention to adopt 
 an ordinance of secession, experienced politicians greatly 
 doubted whether such an ordinance could be adopted in 
 the State of Mississippi. The professor of law in the 
 University was a zealous secessionist. He had practised 
 his profession in the courts of nearly every part of the 
 State. He was thoroughly acquainted with the senti- 
 ments of the people and had expressed his own both freely 
 and strenuously in the local newspaper at Oxford, of 
 which he was the virtual editor. Yet, when the intention 
 of Governor Pettus to convene the Legislature was first 
 reported at the University, Barnard met the professor of 
 law hurrying home for the purpose of writing to the 
 Governor to forego his purpose. The only effect of that 
 step, he said, would be to reveal the weakness of the party 
 of secession, notwithstanding its apparent strength. He 
 said to Barnard, " 1 have visited every part of this State ; 
 I am intimately acquainted with the sentiments of the 
 people everywhere, and I am perfectly satisfied that it is 
 impossible to take Mississippi out of the Union." The 
 Governor persevered in his purpose, and it is a singular 
 fact that every member of the Vestry of Barnard's con- 
 gregation voted for delegates to the convention who were 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 273 
 
 pledged to oppose the adoption of an ordinance of seces- 
 sion. But the opposition was quickly and easily over- 
 powered. Such words as " submissionist," and even the 
 unendurable epithet of "coward," were applied to those 
 who hesitated to resist and resent the success of the Free 
 Soilers who were always classed with abolitionists in 
 gaining possession of the Executive Department of the 
 Federal Government; and it was vehemently proclaimed 
 that no Southern State could honorably remain in a Union 
 whose chief executive officer had been elected under 
 pledges to use his official power in the impairment of the 
 constitutional rights of those States. In the strife of 
 tongues Barnard kept silence, but he did not share in the 
 delusion that a peaceable dissolution of the Union was 
 possible. In the evening of the day on which the ordi- 
 nance of secession had been adopted at the State capital 
 he met Mr. J. B. De Bow, editor of The Southern Review 
 of New Orleans, who had been editor of the United States 
 Census of 1850. Mr. De Bow said that he had been 
 present when the vote on the ordinance was taken, and 
 that it had been a very touching scene. Old men, he said, 
 had been moved to tears. Barnard replied that they 
 might well weep on such an occasion. De Bow asked 
 what he meant, and Barnard answered, " I mean that to 
 plunge a country into war may well be a cause of tears." 
 "War!" exclaimed De Bow, "there will be no war." 
 Barnard rejoined that there was war already. " What," 
 he asked, " is the ordinance of secession but a declaration 
 of war ? " " That is all nonsense," said De Bow. " We are 
 not making war. If there is a war, the North will make 
 war on us, and the North cannot make war on us for 
 three good reasons. First, she has no motive for war ; 
 her interests depend on peace with the South ; she lives 
 by her Southern trade, and she will submit to anything 
 
274 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 rather than lose it. Second, she has no means to make 
 war except what she gets by preying on the South, and 
 war would deprive her of all her resources. Third, she 
 can get no men ; her people are divided ; half of them 
 are ready to take our side already. If there is war, it will 
 be between two Northern factions, and blood may flow in 
 the streets of New York and Philadelphia, but there will 
 be no blood shed in the South." As Mr. De Bow had 
 had better opportunities of knowing the resources of the 
 two sections than any other man in the country, it is easy 
 to see how natural was the delusion of the masses of the 
 Southern people, when he and other men like him, on 
 whom the people depended for their information, were so 
 completely and so sincerely deluded in their conception of 
 the facts of the case. Barnard was not deluded in the 
 least. At the time of secession he expected war as its 
 result. As a consistent Southern Whig he did not now 
 believe that the only cause which could justify secession 
 had occurred; he regarded the means by which it had been 
 precipitated as an insane and treasonable conspiracy to 
 constrain the people to a course which their love of coun- 
 try must have made repugnant to them, and which was 
 certain to be ruinous in its consequences. His own love 
 for the Union remained undiminished, and his worship of 
 the flag, though it must now be cherished secretly, was as 
 reverent as ever. His feelings at this time were warmly 
 expressed in a letter to Miss Gilliss, a daughter of Admiral 
 Gilliss, then at the head of the Naval Observatory of the 
 United States, who had sent him a miniature flag of the 
 Union. 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF MISSISSIPPI, Feb. 19, 1861. 
 
 MY DEAR Miss GILLISS : My gratification was greater than I 
 know how to express in receiving your charming letter of the 
 10th instant, with its beautiful and most acceptable inclosure. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 275 
 
 I shall owe the post office a new grudge, in addition to the 
 many I had against it before, for having consumed nearly a 
 week in bringing to me an evidence of remembrance so well 
 suited to throw a little light upon the gloom of my miserable 
 corner of secession dom. It is true that a badly served mail is 
 better than we have any right to demand, and I endeavor to be 
 as grateful as I can that it continues to bring us anything at 
 all. I thank you most sincerely and from the bottom of my 
 heart for the sympathy in our forlorn condition which the gift 
 of this beautiful little badge proves you to entertain; and I 
 shall treasure up the emblem with jealous care, not only in 
 remembrance of the giver, but also that, in spite of the revolu- 
 tionary madness which has blotted out the glorious stars and 
 stripes from this Southern sky, I may have the satisfaction, at 
 least in private, of still continuing to feast my eyes upon that 
 cherished flag, which will ever be the only one which I shall 
 acknowledge to be the flag of my country. 
 
 Mrs. Barnard assumes to put on a few jealous airs upon 
 the occasion, and desires me to say that she intends to engage 
 some one of our most secessionist young ladies to make me a 
 rosette or cockade as a sort of counter-weight to this gift. I 
 give her message, but I assure you that I could not be induced 
 to touch one of those treasonable affairs, not if no, not even 
 if you were to offer it yourself. I am for the Union, first, 
 last, and forever. 
 
 The elections of Virginia and Tennessee have put a great 
 deal of heart into us wretched victims of a folly without a 
 parallel in history. We still cherish quite a bright little se- 
 cret hope of recovering our position again in the Union which 
 has wrought for us so many blessings and so little of harm. 
 It is true we seem now to be pretty far gone in our delirium 
 as a people, but I have heard occasional utterances from our 
 most determined revolutionists which may fairly be interpreted 
 to indicate a willingness to listen to terms. For instance, a 
 member of the Mississippi Convention assured me only a few 
 days ago that, were the Union now to be restored unconditionally, 
 the South would have gained substantially all that she has 
 been contending for; that is to say, the South has demon- 
 strated to the North by her determined action in this emer- 
 
276 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 gency that she is at any time ready to maintain her rights at 
 the point of the bayonet, and to the extremity of dissolving 
 the Union, if necessary, and has thus put an effectual curb on 
 the aggressive spirit which has been aiming at the destruction 
 of her institutions. This is the argument ; if the secessionists 
 are satisfied with it, I am ; but in point of soundness of logic, 
 I confess its force has failed to impress me. 
 
 The events attending and following the inauguration 
 of Mr. Lincoln at Washington did nothing to calm the 
 fears or strengthen the enfeebled hopes of men like Bar- 
 nard. A month after that event he wrote again to Miss 
 Gilliss. 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF MISSISSIPPI, April 6, 1861. 
 
 MY DEAR Miss GILLISS : Some two or three weeks ago 
 I met with a trifling accident which disabled me for a time 
 from any considerable use of my eyes, especially from writing. 
 I was engaged in one of my favorite mechanical operations 
 working at the lathe when a minute particle of metal struck 
 me in the eye, producing no great pain, and, as I supposed at 
 the time, no injury worth noticing. In the course of the next 
 twenty-four hours, however, an inflammation developed itself 
 which for a time gave me some concern, but which happily 
 now has nearly or quite subsided. I trust you will pardon 
 the introduction of this little piece of personal history, which 
 seems necessary to account for my dilatoriness in replying to 
 your charming letter of last month. 
 
 The affairs of our unhappy country and the indications of 
 a still further disruption of its distracted elements continue to 
 occupy all thoughts with us, and I presume with you. Since 
 the accession of the present administration, my hopes for a 
 brighter future have been growing daily more faint; and I 
 cannot but be compelled sadly to admit that the glory of the 
 Union has departed forever. The scene which Washington 
 has presented through the month of March is one which no 
 patriot can contemplate without a sickening feeling of disgust. 
 Nothing but a scramble for the pickings of office, nothing but 
 a scene of selfish strife for the promotion of momentary indi- 
 vidual interests, while the country is writhing in the pangs of 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 277 
 
 dissolution, and the noble fabric which our fathers erected 
 with so much labor and care is crumbling into ruin. We 
 who, in the South, still love the Union, had a right to look to 
 Mr. Lincoln and his Cabinet for some indications of a policy 
 which might strengthen our hands and aid us in restoring the 
 integrity of the nation. They have given us nothing of the 
 kind. They have not given us a policy. The vacillation con- 
 cerning Fort Sumter is at once contemptible and disgraceful ; 
 and the delay, either, on the one hand, distinctly to avow a 
 policy of peace, and act upon it, or, on the other, to call Con- 
 gress together and demand supplies and authority for waging 
 war, which they are not likely to get, exhibits an inde- 
 cision and moral weakness which must soon forfeit to them all 
 respect at home and abroad. 
 
 Meanwhile the war fever was spreading rapidly through- 
 out the South, and in the expectation of hostilities at Fort 
 Sumter and Pensacola thousands of the flower of the 
 Southern youth were enlisting in the ranks and offering 
 their services by companies and regiments to the gover- 
 nors of their several States. The students of the Univer- 
 sity formed themselves into a military company, called 
 the University Greys, and made application to the Gov- 
 ernor to muster them into service. Backed by Professor 
 Lamar, afterwards Associate Justice of the Supreme Court 
 of the United States, Barnard wrote to the Governor, 
 begging him not to comply with their request. His 
 appeal was made in vain ; the company was mustered 
 in and was soon sent to the front. But Barnard was 
 resolved to do his whole duty in the premises. He was 
 not willing passively to allow the absolute ruin of the 
 University, nor was he willing to permit scores of young 
 men and boys who were under age, and for whom he was 
 largely responsible, to be betrayed by momentary enthu- 
 siasm into an enlistment as common soldiers, without at 
 least invoking the intervention of their parents and guar- 
 
278 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 dians. To them, therefore, he addressed a circular letter 
 in which he asked them to authorize him to demand from 
 the Governor the discharge of their minor sons and wards. 
 Like his appeal to the Governor, this effort was made in 
 vain. From most of the parents and guardians of the 
 students he received assurances that the enlistment of 
 the youths was sanctioned and approved by their elders, 
 and in the few instances in which he was allowed to 
 claim the discharge of a student, the purpose was not 
 to withdraw the youth from military service, but merely 
 to facilitate his transfer to some other company which had 
 been raised in the neighborhood of his own home. The 
 University Greys were ordered to Pensacola. On the re- 
 moval of the Confederate government from Montgomery 
 to Richmond, they were ordered to Virginia. They suf- 
 fered heavily in the first battle of Bull Run, and early in 
 the war which they had entered so lightly many of them 
 perished of camp fever. It is believed that very few of 
 that boyish band of student soldiers lived to return home 
 after General Lee's surrender. 
 
 Thus the very first effect of the secession of Missis- 
 sippi which fell under his own observation was the suspen- 
 sion, and an imminent prospect of the complete ruin, of 
 the great work to which he had devoted all his energies. 
 After the departure of the University Greys not a dozen 
 boys were left at the University. The classes were com- 
 pletely broken up, and no one could foresee when, or in 
 what circumstances, they would be reorganized. Shortly 
 after the capture of Fort Sumter the Trustees were con- 
 vened in special session, and Barnard sent in his resignation. 
 It was not accepted. The Board deputed a committee of 
 its members to visit him and request him to withdraw 
 it. Notwithstanding the angry conditions of the hour, 
 they urged their conviction that there would be no serious 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 279 
 
 war, and that the classes of the University would in all 
 probability be reorganized in the autumn. They reminded 
 him that they had expended large amounts of money, by his 
 request and under his advice, for the prosecution of plans 
 which had not yet been realized, and they insisted that 
 he could not properly leave them to bear responsibilities 
 which they had incurred under his guidance. They 
 begged him at least to retain his office as Chancellor of 
 the University until it should be morally certain that 
 their hopes were groundless, and promised that, in the 
 autumn, if it should then appear to be impossible to reopen 
 the institution, they would accept his resignation. With 
 that understanding he withdrew his resignation, and pre- 
 pared to spend the following summer as quietly as he 
 could. 
 
 In a letter to Miss Gilliss, written June 5, 1862, after 
 referring to the interruption of the postal service, he 
 said : 
 
 I have little to say which would not be saddening instead of 
 cheering, or which would not relate to a subject which must 
 for the present be tabooed the unhappy state of the country. 
 That, among the changes which our national misfortunes have 
 brought with them, your father has been thrown into the 
 position which, in my judgment, he ought always to have held, 
 is one pleasant subject of reflection amid the many that are 
 painful. I could sincerely wish that, since you must suffer 
 exile, we could have got possession of you down in this distant 
 corner of Secessia. It would have been a great relief to the 
 gloom of our present solitude. 
 
 We are indeed inhabitants of a solitude. Our University 
 has ceased to have a visible existence. Its halls are com- 
 pletely deserted, and its officers are without occupation. A 
 large proportion of the students have yielded to the prevail- 
 ing military mania and are now at Pensacola and Harper's 
 Perry. Still, we do not expect to remain suspended indefi- 
 nitely. We shall reopen in September. In the meantime we 
 
280 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 have a long period of inaction to waste amid the anxieties of 
 this unnatural war. 
 
 I expect in about a month to visit Montgomery as a member 
 of a convention to consider what is to be done about the re- 
 lations of the Church in these dioceses to those of the States 
 still in the Union. I am greatly unwilling to see a severance 
 made complete between them ; and yet, as the constitution of 
 the Church embraces, in so many words, the dioceses " in 
 the United States of America," we become, of necessity, sev- 
 ered from it the moment our political severance is complete. 
 I cannot but hope that we may arrive at some plan of union 
 which may preserve, in all particulars substantially unbroken, 
 a connection which has so long and so happily existed. 
 
 I continue to hope against hope that hostilities may soon 
 cease, and that we may once more be restored to the enjoy- 
 ment of those blessings of peace and fraternal intercourse of 
 which we only know the value now that we know what it is 
 to have lost them. I shall not dismiss the hope that I may, 
 at some not very remote day, have the pleasure of welcom- 
 ing you in this my quiet home. 
 
 It will always be difficult for persons who are not inti- 
 mately acquainted with the state of feeling in the South 
 at that time to appreciate the mingled sentiments of a 
 man in Barnard's position. In his devotion to the Union 
 there had never for an hour been the slightest faltering ; 
 and because he loved the Union, he had all along opposed 
 the antislavery agitation which he knew to be sapping 
 the foundations of the Union in the affections of the 
 people of the South. For the institution of slavery, in 
 comparison with the permanence of the Union, he seems 
 to have cared nothing either way ; and hence he was 
 equally indignant at the Northern agitators who were 
 ready to imperil the Union for the sake of hastening 
 emancipation, and at the Southern agitators whom he 
 believed to be plotting the disruption of the Union under 
 a pretext of resentment at Northern aggression. In 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 281 
 
 presence of the catastrophe which he had long foreseen 
 and had always dreaded, he could do nothing but recog- 
 nize and accept facts which he deplored as national 
 calamities. When the cotton States seceded, he did 
 not seem to question that their secession, however need- 
 less or unwise, was an effectual act. It grieved him to the 
 heart to think that "in spite of its revolutionary madness " 
 it had "blotted out the glorious stars and stripes from 
 the Southern sky." He continued, indeed, to "cherish a 
 bright little secret hope " that the " delirium " might pass, 
 and that the Southern States " might recover their posi- 
 tion in the Union which had wrought so many blessings 
 and so little of harm." A month after Mr. Lincoln's 
 inauguration his hopes for a brighter future had grown 
 daily more and more faint until he mournfully confessed 
 himself " compelled to admit that the glory of the Union 
 had departed forever." In looking forward to the Con- 
 vention of the Southern Dioceses of his Church, which 
 was to be held at Montgomery in the month of July, he 
 had clearly accepted the dissolution of the Union as an 
 accomplished fact. Part of the purpose of that meeting 
 was " to consider what was to be done about the relations 
 of the Church in these dioceses to those of the States 
 still in the Union." His earnest wish was to prevent a 
 complete disruption of the ecclesiastical union which had 
 existed in the Episcopal Church of this country ; but he 
 fully accepted the judgment of Southern Churchmen who 
 held that, as the constitution of the Church itself em- 
 braced only dioceses " in the United States," the Southern 
 dioceses became of necessity severed from the dioceses 
 which were "still in the Union," "the moment that their 
 political severance was complete"; and he gave no inti- 
 mation that, in his belief, their political severance was 
 not complete. When hostilities had actually begun, he 
 
282 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 " continued to hope even against hope " that they might 
 soon cease ; but it does not appear to have occurred to 
 him that they would ever be terminated by the conquest of 
 the South ; and in his place as a preacher of the Gospel, 
 while he faithfully exhorted his people to cherish all 
 charitable feelings towards their adversaries, and humbly 
 to repent of the pride which he told them had been their 
 great sin, he called upon them to recognize the Confeder- 
 acy in their prayers. In a sermon delivered at Oxford 
 on June 13, 1861, his closing words were these : 
 
 Let me, in conclusion, recall your attention to the lesson 
 which it has been my object this evening to inculcate. If 
 God has visited us with affliction, let us remember that we 
 have shown ourselves but parsimoniously grateful for His 
 abundant mercies. If He threaten to bring us low, let us 
 bear in mind that the loftiness of our pride has merited His 
 just displeasure. Let us therefore seek His face with deep 
 contrition and humility of heart, humbly beseeching Him to 
 make our present trials the means of reclaiming us to Him, 
 and of making us, as individuals and as a people, more faith- 
 ful in our duty than we have ever yet been, or than we ever 
 would have been, had we not been afflicted. And, in the 
 words of our most worthy and well-beloved Bishop and Father 
 in God, let us entreat Him, " in His infinite wisdom and power, 
 so to overrule events, and so to dispose the hearts of all en- 
 gaged in this painful struggle, that it may soon end in peace 
 and brotherly love, and lead not only to the safety, honor, and 
 welfare of our Confederate States, but to the good of all His 
 people and the glory of His great Name, through Jesus Christ 
 our Lord." 
 
 It is easy after the event to magnify the delusion of 
 the people of the South in underestimating the spirit and 
 resources of the people of the North ; but it is quite as 
 easy to forget that no one at the North imagined that 
 the Southern States either could or would bring such im- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 283 
 
 mense resources or so indomitable a spirit to the support 
 of their cause. The truth is that no one on either side 
 dreamed of the magnitude of the conflict which lay before 
 them. No one imagined for a moment that the comba- 
 tants would be numbered by millions of men or that the 
 cost would be counted by thousands of millions of money. 
 In the temper which existed in June, 1861, if either side 
 had foreseen only the destructive energies which would 
 be wielded by the other, that side would have declined 
 the gage of battle. In June, 1861, Barnard saw before 
 him every day more than sufficient evidence that the 
 South both could and would maintain its cause with a 
 devotion which would make the war, if it were long con- 
 tinued, an appalling conflict. He knew how egregiously 
 the South had underestimated the power of the North, 
 but he also knew how little the people of the North appre- 
 ciated the determination, and now that war was begun, 
 the unity, of the people of the South. Southern misap- 
 prehension could not be removed; it was possible that 
 Northern error might be corrected, and that peaceable 
 negotiation might yet take the place of bloody and de- 
 structive strife. It was probably under this belief, and 
 with this hope, that, in the Convention of the Church at 
 Montgomery, Barnard supported a resolution which con- 
 tained an outspoken indorsement, by the Church, of the 
 political changes which had necessitated the meeting. 
 The resolution was not approved. The representatives 
 of the Church felt that, whatever might be their views 
 as citizens, they had no right, in the capacity in which 
 they were then assembled, to meddle with political affairs 
 further than to recognize the course of events, and the 
 resolution in support of which Barnard had spoken was 
 laid on the table by an almost unanimous vote. 
 
 The news of the first battle of Bull Run reached Bar- 
 
284 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 nard while he was visiting friends at Tuskaloosa, and 
 his hopes of peace fell to zero. The resumption of his 
 work at the University was now out of the question. 
 Secession had ruined him. The plans he had made were 
 frustrated. The work he had done was wasted. At more 
 than fifty years of age he was left without means of sub- 
 sistence, and in the section of his country to which he 
 had given nearly quarter of a century of unremitted 
 labor there was neither place nor occupation in which he 
 might earn his bread. He had foreseen that all this might 
 happen, and when he had consented to withdraw his res- 
 ignation as Chancellor of the University, he had stipulated 
 that, in case it should ultimately prove to be necessary 
 to renew it, the Trustees would secure for him from the 
 Governor a passport to the North, where it would be pos- 
 sible for him to obtain employment in his profession as 
 a teacher. This stipulation had been willingly agreed 
 to ; but when the Board met in September, it appeared that 
 it could not be fulfilled, as the power to issue passports 
 was now in the exclusive possession of the Confederate 
 government. This was not so great a disappointment, 
 however, as it might have been if the Trustees had not 
 proposed to retain his services in another capacity. 
 
 The Legislature having learned at a recent session that 
 the University had been practically broken up by the 
 enlistment of the whole body of the students, had passed 
 an act authorizing the Trustees to establish for the time 
 being a military school for boys and to carry it on in the 
 buildings of the University. In accepting Barnard's 
 resignation, the Board conferred on him the honorary 
 degree of Doctor of Sacred Theology in token of their 
 high esteem, and then requested him to do them the ser- 
 vice of visiting the military schools of South Carolina 
 and Virginia, and to report to them on the methods of 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 285 
 
 organization and instruction pursued in those institutions. 
 His expenses were to be paid by the Board, of course, 
 and his salary was to be continued until his report should 
 be made. When he should return, the members of the 
 Board promised to use their united influence with the 
 Confederate government to secure him a passport to 
 the North. He was glad to render the desired ser- 
 vice, and he has left some interesting notes of his tour 
 of investigation. 
 
 I accepted the commission very willingly, and made a visit 
 to the South Carolina Military School at Columbia, proposing 
 afterwards to visit the Virginia Military Academy at Lexing- 
 ton. I found the school at Columbia still in operation, not- 
 withstanding the excitements of the war, but I learned that the 
 Virginia school was suspended, and that its principal, Colonel 
 Francis Smith, who was an old acquaintance of mine and a 
 classmate of my brother's at West Point, was somewhere in the 
 Confederate military service. I thought it more important 
 to see Colonel Smith than immediately to visit his school, and 
 as I did not know where he was, I resolved to go to the War 
 Office at Bichmond to find out. I learned there that Colonel 
 Smith was in command at Craney Island in the James Biver, 
 at the mouth of Norfolk Harbor. I applied, therefore, for a 
 permit to visit the Colonel at his camp. I was received by 
 him with great courtesy, and he showed me all over his 
 defences. The island was very strongly fortified, and to 
 my civilian eyes seemed impregnable. The Colonel had a 
 very lofty wooden tower of observation. He took me to the 
 top of it and gave me a powerful hand telescope. With this 
 instrument I began sweeping the horizon, and, observing a 
 little speck, which I took to be a flag on an adjacent Confeder- 
 ate fort at SewelPs Point a mile or two distant, I directed my 
 instrument towards that object. To my surprise I discovered 
 it to be the stars and stripes of the United States waving over 
 Fortress Munroe, at a distance of not less than nine miles ; but 
 as it was a very large flag and the telescope a powerful one, 
 I could see its folds with the utmost distinctness. The sight 
 
286 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 thrilled me from head to foot with a feeling I had never before 
 experienced. I had not seen the flag then for many months, and 
 I was beginning to despair of ever seeing it again, but this 
 brief glimpse of it seemed to give me new life. 
 
 Colonel Smith informed me that in order to secure the 
 information I desired it would be quite necessary for me to 
 visit the Military Academy at Lexington ; and in order to 
 facilitate my studies there he gave me letters to his family 
 and to his adjutant, who still remained there in charge. It was 
 necessary for me to return to Richmond before going to Lex- 
 ington ; and, while at the Capitol, it occurred to me to make 
 a personal application to Mr. Davis for a permit to leave the 
 Confederacy. I therefore called at the executive office the 
 morning after my arrival in Eichmond, and found myself one 
 of a throng of forty or fifty persons all waiting to speak to 
 the President. After a detention of half an hour in the 
 corridor we were at length admitted and formed a long semi- 
 circle, myself being near one end. Next to me stood one of 
 my colleagues in the University, a British subject who had 
 never been naturalized. This gentleman presented to Mr. 
 Davis a letter from the British Consul at New Orleans asking 
 for him a permit to cross the line. The President very cour- 
 teously gave him a reference to the Secretary of War and 
 granted his request. I came next. Not being willing to 
 make my request audibly in the presence of so many good 
 Confederates, I had prepared a brief statement in writing 
 which I handed to Mr. Davis and which he rapidly glanced 
 over. Instead of replying, he said to me, with a very gracious 
 smile, " Take a seat on the sofa here, Doctor, and I will talk 
 to you presently ! " I took a seat accordingly, and Mr. Davis 
 proceeded to listen to the rest and to dismiss them successively 
 until no one remained present except him and myself. 
 
 He then sat down by me and began to inquire what were 
 my motives for desiring to leave the Confederacy. I told him 
 that he was very well aware that all my family were on the 
 other side of the line, and moreover that I had no means of 
 making a subsistence in the Confederate States, since my 
 occupation was completely gone; to which he replied, "Oh! 
 I will find you occupation enough; you are the very man 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 287 
 
 that I want at this time." He then proceeded to say that he 
 desired to create a bureau for the investigation of the natural 
 resources of the Confederate States, both vegetable and min- 
 eral, in short, to make a general natural history survey, and 
 that he would put me entirely in charge of that work. It 
 was in vain that I disclaimed fitness for such a charge; he 
 was unwilling to listen to a refusal, and sent a messenger to 
 the Chief of Ordnance, Colonel Gorgas, to explain the project 
 to me more in detail. In the mean time, Mr. Meminger, Secre- 
 tary of the Treasury, came in and joined with the President 
 in endeavoring to overcome my objections. In my conversation 
 with Colonel Gorgas I presently perceived that the thing most 
 immediately desired of me was the direction of works for 
 obtaining sulphur from the copper sulphurets of western 
 Tennessee, and the production of sulphuric acid for us in 
 preparing fulminates. Mr. Davis had assured me that my 
 business should be entirely disconnected from military opera- 
 tions, but these statements of Colonel Gorgas showed me that 
 the representation was hardly sincere. 
 
 I left Mr. Davis without promising anything, and he asked 
 me to call upon him at his house in the evening. I did so, 
 and we had a long talk over the matter, in the course of which 
 I assured him that I could find him a man much better fitted 
 for the proposed work than I was myself, and that if he would 
 permit me I would nominate such a man. But he seemed to 
 be determined to make the matter personal entirely, and when 
 I positively refused to accept office, he begged me to defer 
 my decision, to reflect upon the matter, and to write to him. 
 As this was the best that I could do, I left him and proceeded 
 on my mission to Lexington. 
 
 At Lexington I was received very politely by Mrs. Smith 
 and by the adjutant in charge of the buildings, and this gentle- 
 man explained to me with great particularity all the details 
 of the establishment. I then went on by stage from Lexington 
 to a point on the Memphis and Charleston Railway, after which 
 I proceeded rapidly to Jackson, where the Trustees of the 
 University were in session. I made to them a written report 
 and then bade them my final farewell. The body manifested 
 a very sincere regret in parting with me, and as I left the 
 
288 MEMOIES OP 
 
 room one of the leading members, Judge William L. Sharkey, 
 one of the ablest and best men I have ever known, followed 
 me into the corridor and expressed in the strongest terms his 
 deep sense of the loss which the University and the State had 
 suffered, and added in conclusion, "I look upon your with- 
 drawal as nothing less than a grave public calamity." Expres- 
 sions of this kind which came to me from several members of 
 the Board were particularly gratifying. On the day on which 
 my resignation at Oxford was accepted, Ex-Governor McRae, 
 who had been Chairman of the Board, remarked to me: "In 
 parting from you I have at least one satisfaction in the recol- 
 lection that I have always voted for every measure which you 
 have recommended." After the war was over, I remember a 
 manifestation of feeling by Judge Sharkey which was equally 
 gratifying. Under the first government organized in Missis- 
 sippi after the war, Judge Sharkey was elected to the United 
 States Senate. He went to Washington, but was not allowed 
 to take his seat. It was in April, 1866, I think, that General 
 Grant was presented by his fellow-citizens with a dwelling 
 in Washington City, and a large party were assembled in that 
 house to celebrate the occasion. In passing about from room 
 to room, I entered an apartment where there happened to be 
 for the moment no other company ; but just at that moment 
 from a side door Judge Sharkey entered also. He approached 
 me impulsively and threw around me his arms, expressing the 
 strongest gratification at having met me once more. 
 
 From Oxford Barnard went first to Tuskaloosa, not 
 wishing to be exposed to the dangers and inconveniences 
 of a region which might at any moment become a scene 
 of military operations, but he did not remain long in 
 Alabama. After storing his effects in what he vainly 
 thought would be a place of safety, he and Mrs. Barnard 
 betook themselves to Virginia and lived at Norfolk until 
 the capture of that city by the Federal troops in the month 
 of May, 1862. Why he went to Norfolk, and how he 
 was occupied during the months he spent there, is not 
 known. In the only reference to the subject which he is 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 289 
 
 known to have made it seems to be implied that he used 
 some peculiar means (which he did not think it expedient 
 to tell) to find a way to reach the North ; but the event- 
 ual opening of his way was the capture of Norfolk, which 
 he could hardly have been an agent in bringing about. 
 
 With the fall of Norfolk Barnard's life at the South 
 ended. When he reached Washington, he was called a 
 " refugee," and somewhat later, he applied that designa- 
 tion to himself. In the sense of a person who has taken 
 refuge from the calamities of war in an invaded country, 
 Barnard was a refugee, but in no other sense. He had 
 been subjected to no sort of molestation; he had been 
 threatened with none, and there was no reason why he 
 should apprehend any. He was not suspected of disaffec- 
 tion to the Southern cause or the Confederate government. 
 Some of the highest officers of the Confederacy were his 
 personal friends. He enjoyed the confidence of Southern 
 Churchmen and Southern people wherever he was known. 
 There is not the slightest doubt that, in his heart of hearts, 
 he was " a Union man " ; but he had behaved with such 
 consistent prudence that his sentiments exposed him to 
 no danger. In the sense of a person who flees from 
 danger or persecution, Barnard was not a refugee, and at 
 the close of the war he found that his old friends at the 
 South remained his friends still. 
 
 When Dr. Barnard found himself within the Union 
 lines, whatever doubts he might have entertained of the 
 issue of the struggle between the sections were completely 
 dissipated. At the South he had seen a lack of the mate- 
 rial of war and of the necessaries of life; at the North 
 there was abundance. At the South there were neither 
 factories nor skilled workmen; the North was teeming 
 with productive industries. The South was shut in from 
 communication with the rest of the world, while every 
 
290 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 civilized nation on earth was sending into Northern ports 
 an abundant supply, not only of commodities, but of men. 
 Every day of the war was a drain upon the resources of 
 the South, which, if long continued, must inevitably end 
 in exhaustion, while the North was developing unsus- 
 pected powers and discovering resources of inexhaustible 
 wealth. With these facts before him, Dr. Barnard could 
 no longer doubt the issue of the conflict, and he therefore 
 held that a speedy termination of the war, whatever pres- 
 ent cost or suffering it might entail, would be as real a 
 benefit to the South as to the North. He forthwith joined 
 the ranks of those who urged that the war should be 
 prosecuted with the whole energies of the nation and 
 insisted that opposition to the national administration on 
 any ground whatever was nothing less than treason. Ani- 
 mated with these sentiments, he called with Mrs. Barnard 
 to pay his respects to Mr. Lincoln. When he reached 
 the White House, the President was engaged in a Cabinet 
 meeting, but on receiving their cards, he instantly rose 
 from his seat, went out to meet them, approached them with 
 extended hand, saying, " Come in ; I have heard of you 
 before ; come right in here," and so introduced his guests 
 without ceremony into the midst of the assembled Cabinet. 
 Dr. Barnard would have been glad, of course, to find 
 work in his own profession, but for a time none could be 
 found, and for want of other occupation, he was engaged 
 for a time in reducing the observations of southern stars 
 which had been made by Lieutenant (afterwards Captain) 
 Gilliss at Santiago, Chili, as Chief of the American Astro- 
 nomical Expedition of 1849-52, which were then in prep- 
 aration for publication by authority of Congress. While 
 thus occupied, he was invited by his friend, Professor A. 
 D. Bache, Chief of the Coast Survey, to take a position 
 in that service, which he gladly did. The duty assigned 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 291 
 
 to him was the direction of the Map and Chart Depart- 
 ment, which consisted chiefly in superintending the pub- 
 lication and distribution of the maps and charts, but an 
 incidental part of the work, which for a time occupied 
 his whole energies, was the preparation and publication 
 of war-maps, illustrative of the military operations in 
 progress in different parts of the Union. As the seat of 
 war was changed from day to day, these maps were cor- 
 rected accordingly ; and as their value depended on their 
 prompt appearance after every new movement, they re- 
 quired constant vigilance and great activity on the part 
 of the director. The public interest in the progress of 
 the war caused the war-maps to be highly appreciated, 
 but there were few who knew that they were produced 
 under the direction of a Southern college president who 
 could find no work to do in his own profession. 
 
 In the latter part of 1863, the president of a Western 
 college published a letter, addressed to President Lincoln, 
 in which the disasters of the war and the possibility of 
 defeat for the Union cause, were ascribed to the weakness 
 and irresolution of Mr. Lincoln. It was on this occasion 
 that Dr. Barnard published his " Letter to the President 
 of the United States, by a Refugee," of which mention 
 has been made. It was extensively copied in the news- 
 papers and was widely read ; but in view of facts of very 
 recent date, its vehemence must be admitted to have been 
 somewhat excessive. It was but a few years since Bar- 
 nard, himself a slaveholder, had indignantly denied the 
 charge that he was "unsound on the slavery question," 
 and had invited the Trustees of the University of Missis- 
 sippi, if that charge could be sustained, to " remove him 
 from a position for which he was morally disqualified." 
 At that time he had proved by the evidence of men with 
 whom he had lived on terms of intimacy for quarter of a 
 
292 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 century that lie had never given them the slightest rea- 
 son to believe that he disapproved of slavery. It might, 
 therefore, have been well for him to have left it to some 
 other man to denounce "that relic of primeval barbarism, 
 that loathsome monument of the brutalities of the ages 
 of darkness, that monster injustice cursed of Christian 
 men and hated of God domestic slavery." That, how- 
 ever, is a question of propriety which was not then thought 
 of, and of the remorseless force of argument and invective 
 with which he pressed the charge of deliberate treason 
 upon the critics of the administration there can be no 
 question at all. 
 
 He told how he had witnessed for many years "the 
 working out of a giant conspiracy by which an entire 
 people were betrayed against their will into overt acts of 
 treason and open war upon their country, its flag and its 
 government." He had "observed, during the period of 
 an entire generation, the careful preparation of the mines 
 and magazines by which it was designed to blow up the 
 entire political fabric." He maintained that the disunion 
 sentiment at the South had been wholly factitious and 
 was still largely fictitious. 
 
 I have seen [he said] the light of hope die out in hundreds 
 of bosoms where the love of country long survived the inaugura- 
 tion of the rebel reign of terror. I have seen the weak, or 
 the timorous, or the base, on the most frivolous of pretexts, 
 repudiating the sentiments which they have always before pro- 
 fessed, and with the vociferous zeal of recent converts a zeal 
 always most vociferous when the conversion is pretended and 
 the convert a hypocrite mouthing upon the corners of the 
 streets the creed of treason, which, in spite of their ostenta- 
 tious apostasy, they yet loathed in their heart of hearts. And 
 I have seen even the men of sternest principle men who 
 through months of anguish cherished the hope that the gigantic 
 wickedness which had deprived them of a country would yet 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 293 
 
 be stricken down by the hand of the government in despair 
 of relief, and in obedience to what they esteemed an inexorable 
 destiny, giving in at length their adhesion to the tyranny they 
 could not resist, and, hopeless and heart-broken, bowing their 
 necks to the yoke. 
 
 In the criticism of Mr. Lincoln and the administration, 
 Dr. Barnard could see nothing else than the same " leaven 
 of treason at work in the heart of loyal communities " 
 which at length precipitated the present conflict. 
 
 The demon of rebellion [he said] is lurking in secret places 
 among our own valleys and hills, and the hour may at any 
 moment sound when the crimson deluge which has already 
 rolled over Virginia, and Tennessee, and Mississippi, and 
 Arkansas, and Missouri, shall burst upon the States north of 
 the Ohio. . . . The dark conspirators are too wary to declare 
 their purpose in advance. They seek to lull suspicion by 
 setting themselves up as the foremost champions of the Con- 
 stitution they aim to subvert. They denounce, with furious 
 violence, measures absolutely indispensable to preserve the gov- 
 ernment from overthrow. They demand for rebels in arms 
 every right to which loyal citizens are entitled. According to 
 them, it is unconstitutional to touch the property which gives 
 to insurgent traitors the power to be mischievous. It is uncon- 
 stitutional to restrain traitors among ourselves of the liberty 
 which they employ in organizing bands to obstruct the move- 
 ments of national troops, even on their way to defend the 
 national capital. It is unconstitutional to aid, by legislation, 
 a loyal State in ridding itself of a political ulcer whose rotten- 
 ness, where it has been allowed to run its course, has corrupted 
 the whole body politic, and has nearly cost the nation its life. 
 It is unconstitutional, in short, to do anything to save the Con- 
 stitution : and nothing is constitutional but the right to sub- 
 vert the Constitution. Thus, open and violent resistance to 
 the authorities which the Constitution itself has created, is 
 inculcated as the legitimate and proper and even obligatory 
 means of upholding the Constitution : and revolution is urged 
 as the only possible means of saving the country. 
 
294 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Precisely the same machinery [he continued] is being 
 employed by Northern traitors which was successful in the 
 South. State authorities are set up against the government 
 of the whole country. Local state pride is enlisted. Sectional 
 jealousies are enkindled. A conflict is kept up which is 
 designed to last long enough to generate a degree of exaspera- 
 tion among the people sufiicient to render the experiment safe ; 
 and then, suddenly, the central power is to be defied, and the 
 revolution made complete. This method of inaugurating re- 
 bellion is the most insidiously dangerous that was ever con- 
 trived. It apes the forms of legitimate proceeding to an extent 
 which imposes on law-abiding citizens who presently find them- 
 selves rebels without their own consent. And it is a species 
 of rebellion, strong in possession from the start, of all the regu- 
 lar organization of an established state. Any unhappy recusants 
 among a people so betrayed are deprived of even the equal 
 chance which, in rebellions elsewhere, belong to the persistently 
 loyal, of striking for their independence ; for, without organiza- 
 tion themselves, they are surrounded, from the earliest moment, 
 by an organized police who repress the first indication of dis- 
 affection by arrests, imprisonments, and executions under the 
 forms of law, or are subjected to the violence of mobs, who 
 proceed, with the encouragement of the authorities themselves, 
 to hang or mutilate without any regard to law at all. 
 
 And here we have the obvious and rational explanation 
 of a political phenomenon which has excited the special admi- 
 ration of Mr. Eussell and other foreign observers ; viz. the 
 singular and beautiful unanimity which the insurgent people 
 have displayed in their ill-omened cause. Such observers have 
 even remarked, apparently without drawing the unavoidable 
 inference, that this unanimity extends no less to the immi- 
 grants and adventurers from foreign lands, too recently 
 arrived in the country to be able to comprehend in the least 
 the alleged causes of grievance, than to the people who are 
 native and to the manor born. Indeed, it may be safely said, 
 that there never occurred a rebellion since history began in 
 which the insurgent chiefs, from the earliest hour of their 
 usurped authority, were able to command a machinery so 
 comprehensive, so resistless, so thoroughly effectual for secur- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 295 
 
 ing unanimity among their wronged and betrayed victims, 
 as the Southern conspirators found ready made to their 
 hands in the State organizations. Even before the melan- 
 choly farce of secession had been enacted in any single State, 
 these authorities were thoroughly prostituted to the uses of 
 the conspirators. Citizens who still loved their country were 
 menaced and insulted, in many instances assaulted with actual 
 violence; yet they dared not appeal to the ministers of the 
 law for protection, for they knew too well that law had no 
 longer any protection for them. On the other hand, the ruffi- 
 ans who thus commenced the work of preparing a unanimous 
 people in advance of the hour appointed, were as entirely 
 untrammelled by any fear of consequences to themselves, as 
 the roving bands of Bedouins who plunder helpless travellers 
 in the desert. 
 
 Again and again Dr. Barnard insisted that the danger 
 of the nation lay, not in the strength of the South, but 
 in treason at the North. That, he said, 
 
 is the danger of the time. Our armies were never so strong 
 as they are now. Our navy never was so efficient. If the 
 operations in progress are slow, they are, nevertheless, sure. 
 The resources of the rebels have been stretched to the point 
 of exhaustion. Every man and boy capable of bearing arms 
 among them has been driven into the field by the most sweep- 
 ing and merciless conscription the world ever saw. The natu- 
 ral sources of nitre which exist within their borders are capable 
 of but a limited supply, and yield probably at present not a 
 tithe of what they need ; while a blockade, more severe than 
 ever before, effectually neutralizes the efforts of foreign sym- 
 pathizers for their relief. It is morally impossible that we 
 should fail, from this time forward, steadily to gain upon the 
 insurrection until it is effectually crushed out, extinguished, 
 dead, and buried. But this implies and requires that while 
 our armies are busy in the field, and our navy along our coast 
 and rivers, pushing back, inch by inch, the rebel battalions, 
 and extending steadily the jurisdiction of the legitimate gov- 
 ernment over reconquered soil, we should not permit a new 
 
296 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 rebellion to burst forth in their rear, to break up their base 
 of operations, and cut off their sources of supplies. 
 
 For the difficulties of the time Barnard maintained that 
 the administration could not be held to account. 
 
 The situation of things, Mr. President, is not, in my view, 
 one for the evils or dangers of which and they are certainly 
 grave you can justly be held responsible; nor are they evils 
 or dangers which it would appear to be quite in your power 
 to control. They are evils and dangers which can only be 
 removed or neutralized by the earnest efforts of good men and 
 loyal men everywhere to expose, disarm, and trample under 
 foot the treason which is lurking even in the capitals of loyal 
 States, watching the favorable moment to betray the sacred 
 cause of humanity and of liberty in its own home. If all such 
 men will but realize the gravity of the crisis, and simply acquit 
 themselves of their duty, the symptoms in the political sky, 
 which now so justly excite anxiety and alarm, will speedily 
 disappear. If they will not, it passes human prescience to 
 tell in what condition another twelvemonth may find our 
 unhappy country. 
 
 If Northern and Western treason were to be success- 
 ful, Dr. Barnard, in the following passage, anticipated the 
 verdict of history which in that case must be rendered : 
 
 The year 1862 opened auspiciously for the cause of the 
 Union. Its arms were everywhere successful everywhere 
 its flag advanced. Disastrously defeated on the banks of the 
 Cumberland and Tennessee, the rebels hastily withdrew from 
 all their advanced posts in the West, and fell back to the 
 borders of the State of Mississippi. The important city of 
 Nashville fell. Most of the important towns and harbors of 
 the Atlantic seaboard and of the Gulf were captured and held 
 by the Federal forces. The great navy-yards of Norfolk and 
 Pensacola were recovered. The Union flag waved once more 
 over New Orleans. The whole Mississippi River, with the 
 exception of a single point, passed under the complete control 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 297 
 
 of the Federal flotillas. In view of these multiplied disasters 
 the rebels were seized with dismay. Hopeless discouragement 
 appeared in every countenance. Their wretched people, left 
 to themselves, would speedily have abandoned the conflict. 
 But the leaders, rendered desperate by the urgency of the 
 crisis, resisted with the obstinacy of men who see the gallows 
 staring them in the face. They resorted to a conscription 
 sweeping and merciless to a degree unknown in all the history 
 of tyrannies. They pursued and punished the disaffected with 
 a vindictiveness which appalled and crushed out opposition. 
 Thus insubordination was promptly checked, and their rapidly 
 recruited armies soon found themselves numerically superior 
 to the forces opposed to them. Then, in turn, the Federals 
 were at some points driven back. A series of disasters in 
 Virginia unreasonably discouraged a portion of the American 
 people, and furnished to secret sympathizers with the rebel- 
 lion, of whom there were always many in the loyal States, a 
 favorable opportunity to excite, by all the insidious arts which 
 demagogues know how to employ, discontent with the admin- 
 istration. It was not very difficult to mould a popular chagrin, 
 not unnatural under public reverses, into disaffection toward 
 the men who were at the head of public affairs; nor very 
 much more so to turn against the government itself the dis- 
 affection which was at first directed toward men. Accordingly, 
 although the President, by wise and prudent measures, soon 
 succeeded in correcting all the evils which had accrued from 
 previous disasters, and had so ordered affairs as to insure, 
 beyond reasonable doubt, the early and complete triumph of 
 the Union arms, yet, precisely at this critical juncture, his 
 plans were totally disconcerted and his power completely 
 paralyzed by a new rebellion suddenly outbursting in the 
 Northern States. The remainder of the history is soon written. 
 Civil war presently raged from one end of the country to the 
 other. The East was arrayed against the West, and a party 
 in the West was in secret alliance with the South. The posi- 
 tion of the Union armies in the Southern States became most 
 critical. They fell back, closely followed by the Southern 
 insurgents. Washington was lost. The central government 
 was broken up. The Union was practically dissolved. Soon, 
 
298 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 in the confusion which followed, the component elements of 
 this once magnificent nationality became so bitterly and 
 irreconcilably hostile to each other as to render recon- 
 struction hopeless, and thus the greatest republic of ancient 
 or modern times miserably perished. 
 
 The letter concluded as follows: 
 
 If, Mr. President, the record of our downfall is to be written, 
 it will, as I most sincerely believe, be written in terms like 
 these. But I will not yet believe that it is to be written at all. 
 My faith is yet strong in the virtue of the people. If it were 
 equally strong in their vigilance, or in their zeal in the cause in 
 which they have so much at stake, I should have no misgivings. 
 Still hope predominates over apprehension ; and when, to hu- 
 man view, the clouds around us seem darkest, my trust is in 
 God. Surely He cannot permit this giant iniquity to triumph ! 
 Surely He will reward our patience and our perseverance at 
 last. Surely the time cannot be distant when He will restore 
 to us the blessings of peace ; and along with peace will give us 
 back our country, and our whole undivided country. 
 
 From the time of the publication of this letter, Dr. Bar- 
 nard was a marked man. His appointment to some per- 
 manent position of honor and usefulness at the North was 
 assured; and on the resignation of President King, he was 
 elected President of Columbia College. The following 
 letters from General Sherman will show that while he was 
 vigorously and even vehemently maintaining the cause of 
 the Union at the North, he was not forgetful of his old 
 and tried friends at the South : 
 
 HEADQUARTERS, 15th ARMY CORPS. 
 Camp on river 18 miles from Vicksburg, July 28, 1863. 
 
 PROFESSOR P. A. P. BARNARD, Coast Survey Office, Wash- 
 ington, D. C. 
 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : On my return from Jackson I found many 
 letters, and yours of July 8 among the number. That you should 
 have associated my name with the great result achieved in re- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 299 
 
 ducing Yicksburg, and driving out of Mississippi the army of 
 Johnston, has given me more real pleasure than the plaudits of 
 a million of the crowd. The appreciation of one who knows, 
 one who feels the importance of an event such as has recently 
 transpired, is what I am proud of. Well do I remember you 
 and your talented and pure minded brother, as also your wife, 
 with whom I would not have dared [?] even a mere acquaintance, 
 and I assure you that last November, when I rode through the 
 grounds of the College at Oxford, I thought of you and asked 
 where you had lived and thought I saw the traces of your life 
 in the Observatory, of which I remember you spoke at the time 
 we were travelling down that road which I have just destroyed 
 root and branch. 
 
 My own head and heart have been so full of the importance 
 to us as a people and nation of the Great Mississippi, that I 
 have been blinded to all else, and now that it is once more free 
 to the navigation of the world, I feel like sinking down into a 
 quietude more like that of a recovery from a long period of 
 intoxication. I followed Johnston to Jackson, drove him across 
 the Pearl, and knowing the arid nature of the stretch to Merid- 
 ian, I let him go, pursued by the fears of a following army. 
 But the truth is that our men, from long service in trenches, 
 have become apathetic and listless, and must have rest. 
 
 We are now encamped in shady groves near clear water, 
 along the Big Black, just above where it is crossed by the rail- 
 road. Our ranks are thinned by the effects of battle and cli- 
 mate, and I hope our Government will not relax its efforts in 
 consequence of recent successes, but fill up our ranks and let 
 us push on to a conclusion. We must succeed, for ' tis not pos- 
 sible that the beautiful fabric of government erected by our 
 forefathers should tumble into anarchy or be rent by schism. 
 I fear Anarchy more than Eebellion. Our tendency has been 
 towards universal freedom, license, and anarchy. This war may 
 be designed not only to vindicate the strength of the National 
 Government, but to satisfy our people that all must submit to 
 the Laws, absolutely and implicitly ; that unless we must obey 
 the law, no matter how apparently tyrannical, we may be forced 
 to choose another more exacting and cruel Tyrant as a master. 
 All will still work well if we can maintain discipline in our 
 
300 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 ranks, and I am working for that as much if not more than 
 mere success over the open avowed enemy. 
 
 For your kind letter I thank you, and will ever feel recom- 
 pensed in knowing that notwithstanding the abuse of the dirty 
 whelps of newspaper scribblers who profess to make public 
 opinion, I enjoy the respect of such men as Professor and Gen- 
 eral Barnard. 
 
 In some haste from press of business, 
 
 (signed) W. T. SHERMAN, Major General. 
 
 HEADQUARTERS, 15 ARMY CORPS. 
 
 Camp on Big Black, Sept. 14, 1863. 
 
 PROFESSOR F. A. P. BARNARD, Coast Survey Office, Wash- 
 ington, D.C. 
 
 DEAR SIR : Be kind enough to acknowledge to Professor 
 Bache receipt from me of a copy of his Historical Sketch of 
 the Progress of this Rebellion, or, rather, of the recovery of 
 Rebel Territory. 
 
 Our troops have since unopposed visited Harrisonburg and 
 Monroe on the Washita. Steele is moving on Little Rock. I 
 doubt if opposition be made there. Shreveport is the stra- 
 tegic centre of the Trans-Mississippi, and we operate to a dis- 
 advantage till the high waters, when we can make short work 
 of the Red and Arkansas River Districts. 
 
 I think we must secure the Line of the Alabama next, and 
 then connect with Rosecrans. 
 
 Mr. Marshall has come to Vicksburg. I have not yet seen 
 him, but expect to in a few days. Who in Jackson would 
 likely know of your friend Hilgard ? 
 Yours truly, 
 
 (signed) W. T. SHERMAN, M. G. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 301 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 A sketch of the history of Columbia College First mention in the 
 records of Trinity Church, New York Bishop Berkeley Lotteries 
 for the founding of a college Dr. Johnson appointed President 
 First matriculation of students in 1754 The Royal Charter granted 
 
 Opposition to the Charter Trinity Church conveys land to the 
 corporation of King's College The dread of a Church establishment 
 
 The College seal The foundation stone of the College buildings laid 
 
 First Commencement in 1758 Mr. Cooper elected President in 
 1763 Grant of land in Gloucester County and how it was lost A 
 grammar school established Foundation of the New York Hospital 
 Condition of the College in 1773 Political controversies Dr. Cooper 
 sails for England Rev. Benjamin Moore Praeses pro tempore The 
 College buildings occupied by troops Suspension of the College from 
 1776 to 1784 Organization of the University of the State of New York 
 
 Separate organization of Columbia College The first Trustees 
 Organization of the Board in 1787 Dr. W. S. Johnson chosen Presi- 
 dent The faculties of Arts and of Medicine Library increased 
 College faculty enlarged James Kent, Professor of Law Reduced 
 means and their consequences Dr. Wharton of Philadelphia elected 
 President, 1801 Bishop Moore on December 31st of the same year 
 appointed to the same office A new charter obtained in 1810 Bishop 
 Moore resigning, Rev. William Harris is elected President and Rev. 
 Dr. John M. Mason Provost in 1811 The Medical School is incor- 
 porated with the College of Physicians and Surgeons in 1813 The 
 Botanic Gardens granted to the College in 1814 History and value 
 of the grant In 1816 Dr. Mason resigns, and the provostship is abol- 
 ished Mr. James Kent is reappointed Professor of Law and delivers 
 lectures which were afterwards published as commentaries Grammar 
 school established Hon. William A. Duer, LL.D., succeeds Dr. Harris 
 as President, 1829 A double course of studies introduced in 1830 and 
 discontinued in 1843 Fiftieth anniversary celebrated 1837 Nathan- 
 iel F. Moore, LL.D., succeeds President Duer, 1842 The study of Ger- 
 man and elocution Charles King, Esq., LL.D., succeeds Dr. Moore 
 as President, 1849 Emeritus professors Plans for a system of post- 
 graduate instruction The College removed in 1857 to the buildings 
 formerly occupied by the New York Institution for the Deaf and Dumb 
 
 Plans for parallel course of study Establishment of the Law 
 Schools in 1858 A School of Mines projected in 1863 Election of 
 Dr. Barnard to succeed President King, 1864. 
 
302 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 THE history of Columbia College has yet to be written. 
 An outline of its origin and progress, by President Moore, 
 was printed in 1846, and was continued to 1869 by the 
 Rev. Beverly R. Betts, Librarian of the College. From 
 these and other sources, Professor J. H. Van Amringe 
 has compiled an " Historical Sketch of Columbia College 
 in the City of New York, 1754-1876," to which we are 
 indebted for the greater part of the information contained 
 in the present chapter. 
 
 KING'S COLLEGE 
 
 From an address delivered before the Alumni of Colum- 
 bia College by C. C. Moore, we learn that the earliest inti- 
 mation of a design to establish an institution of the higher 
 learning in the City of New York is contained in the 
 records of Trinity Church, from which it appears that, 
 as early as 1703, "the Rector and Wardens were directed 
 to wait upon Lord Cornbury, the Governor, to know what 
 part of the King's farme, then vested in Trinity Church, 
 had been intended for the College which he designed to 
 have built." The inference from this record would seem 
 to be that the foundation of a college had been contem- 
 plated at the time of the conveyance of the King's farm 
 to Trinity Church, and that Trinity Church was under- 
 stood to hold some part of that tract of land in trust for 
 that purpose. The laudable desire of the corporation of 
 Trinity to discharge the trust which had been committed 
 to it was not at that time gratified. In 1729, during 
 Bishop Berkeley's residence in this country, it may have 
 been temporarily revived ; for, after Berkeley had failed 
 in his endeavor to found a college in Bermuda, he would 
 gladly have renewed it in " some place on the American 
 continent, which would probably have been New York " ; 
 but it is not known that any practical steps were taken to 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 303 
 
 promote his object, and there is no record of any further 
 agitation of the subject during the next seventeen years. 
 
 In 1746, however, an act was passed, and received the 
 Governor's assent, "for raising the sum of ,2,250 by a 
 public lottery for this colony, for the encouragement of 
 learning, and towards the founding of a College within 
 the same," and on August 23d, 1749, Bishop Berkeley 
 wrote to Dr. Johnson, then residing at Hartford, Con- 
 necticut : " For the rest, I am glad to find a spirit towards 
 learning prevail in these parts, particularly New York, 
 where you say a college is projected, which has my best 
 wishes." 
 
 The first lottery having been successful, others were 
 authorized for the same object, and in November, 1751, 
 their proceeds, amounting to 3,443 18s., were vested in 
 ten Trustees, of whom one was a Presbyterian, two were 
 members of the Dutch Reformed Church, and seven were 
 members of the Church of England, some of the seven 
 being also vestrymen of Trinity Church. On the 8th of 
 April, 1752, Trinity Church offered to convey to the 
 Trustees "any reasonable quantity of the Church farm 
 (which was not let out), for erecting and use of a 
 College." It was probably contemplated from the first, 
 that the College which was thus to be endowed with a 
 portion of the lands of Trinity Church, should be in 
 some distinctive way connected with the Church of 
 England, but nothing of that kind appears in the offer 
 made by the Rector and Vestry of Trinity, nor in the re- 
 port thereon which was made to the Assembly two years 
 afterwards. As soon, however, as it became known that 
 the Trustees intended to obtain a Royal Charter for the 
 College, the popular apprehension of anything in the 
 nature of a Church establishment in the province occa- 
 sioned a violent opposition to the measure. 
 
304 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 On November 22d, 1753, nearly a year before the 
 Charter was granted, and eighteen months before it was 
 delivered, the Trustees invited the Rev. Dr. Samuel 
 Johnson, of Stratford, to accept the Presidency of the 
 College. His salary as President was to be <250, which 
 the Trustees acknowledged to be inadequate, but they 
 intimated that the Vestry of Trinity Church would in 
 some way make an addition to the amount, and in the 
 month of January, 1754, he was informed that, in case 
 of his acceptance, the Vestry of Trinity had agreed to 
 call him as an assistant minister. After some considera- 
 tion, Dr. Johnson went to New York and entered upon 
 the duties of the Presidency about the month of June. 
 Meanwhile, on the 16th of May, about a month after 
 his arrival in New York, a draft of the proposed Charter 
 was read at a meeting of the Trustees, and a formal 
 protest against it was offered. It was approved, never- 
 theless, and the Trustees not only proceeded with their 
 application for the Charter, but gave public notice of an 
 examination of candidates for matriculation. At this 
 first examination, which was held in the first week of 
 July, 1754, the following eight students were admitted : 
 Samuel Ver Planck, Rudolph Ritzema, Philip Van Cort- 
 landt, Robert Bayard, Samuel Provoost, Thomas Marston, 
 Henry Cruger, and Joshua Bloomer. The instruction of 
 these young freshmen was begun by Dr. Johnson, in a 
 schoolhouse belonging to Trinity Church, on July 17, 
 1754. 
 
 The Royal Charter constituting King's College was 
 granted and passed the seals on October 31, 1754. It 
 appointed, as Governors of the College, the Archbishop 
 of Canterbury and the first Lord Commissioner for 
 Trade and Plantations, who were empowered to act by 
 proxy; the Lieutenant- Governor and Commander-in- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 305 
 
 Chief of the Province of New York; the eldest Coun- 
 cillor, the Judges of the Supreme Court of Judicature, 
 the Secretary, the Attorney-General, the Speaker of the 
 General Assembly and the Treasurer of the Province ; 
 the Mayor of the City of New York ; the Rector of 
 Trinity Church; the Senior Minister of the Reformed 
 Protestant Dutch Church, the Ministers of the Ancient 
 Lutheran Church, of the French Church, and of the 
 Presbyterian Congregation, in the City of New York; 
 and the President of the College ; all these ex officio, 
 and together with them, four and twenty of the prin- 
 cipal gentlemen of the city, namely, Archibald Kennedy, 
 Joseph Murray, Josiah Martin, Paul Richard, Henry Cru- 
 ger, William Walton, John Watts, Henry Beekman, Philip 
 Van Planck, Frederick Philipse, Joseph Robinson, John 
 Cruger, Oliver De Lancey, James Livingston, Esqs., and 
 Benjamin Nicoll, William Livingston, Joseph Read, Na- 
 thaniel Marston, Joseph Haynes, John Livingston, Abra- 
 ham Lodge, David Clarkson, Leonard Lispenard, and 
 James De Lancey, the younger, Gentlemen. 
 
 Though the Charter was granted in October, 1754, the 
 opposition to it was so violent that it was not delivered 
 to the members of the new corporation for more than 
 six months. In a letter to Bishop Sherlock which was 
 written on the very day of its delivery, Dr. Johnson said : 
 
 I humbly thank your Lordship for the most kind regard you 
 express towards me, in view of my undertaking the care of 
 this young College, which I hope will live, in spite of the 
 most virulent opposition it meets with. The Charter at last 
 passed the seals in October, while I was returned into the 
 country. But the clamor was so great that there were some 
 alterations in the draught after I went away, for which I am 
 very sorry, and particularly that the Bishop of London was 
 left out from being one of the Governors. 
 
306 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 At last, on May 7, 1755, Lieutenant-Governor James 
 De Lancey, attended by Mr. Goldsbrow Banyer, Deputy 
 Secretary of the Province, bearing the Charter, delivered 
 that important document at a meeting of over twenty of 
 the gentlemen who were named in it as Governors. After 
 a suitable address by the Lieutenant-Governor, Mr. Hors- 
 manden, a Judge of the Supreme Court, administered the 
 oath of office to the Governors of the College, after which 
 Mr. Chambers, who presided at the meeting, made a reply 
 to the Lieutenant-Governor on the part of the Governors, 
 gratefully acknowledging the honor he had done them, 
 expressing the hope that they would always merit the con- 
 tinuance of his protection, favor, and countenance, and 
 declaring that they had nothing more at heart than to 
 promote the glory of God, the true Protestant religion, 
 and a generous education of youth in the liberal arts and 
 sciences. 
 
 The College being now incorporated and capable of 
 holding the land destined for it by Trinity Church, the 
 corporation of Trinity, on May 13, 1755, delivered to the 
 corporation of King's College deeds of conveyance of a 
 piece of land therein described as "situate on the west 
 side of the Broadway, in the west ward of the City of 
 New York, fronting easterly to Church Street, between 
 Barclay Street and Murray Street, 440 feet, and thence 
 running westerly along Barclay Street and Murray Street 
 to the North River." The conditions of this gift, which 
 had been previously inserted in the Charter, and had been 
 the pretext of a furious opposition to the granting of the 
 Charter, were " that the President of King's College for 
 ever, for the time being, should be a member of, and in 
 communion with, the Church of England as by law 
 established; and that the Morning and Evening Service 
 in the College should be the liturgy of the said Church, 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 307 
 
 or such a collection of prayers out of that liturgy, together 
 with a Collect peculiar for the College, as should be ap- 
 proved by its President and Governors." At the same 
 time, however, the charter expressly denied to the College 
 the power of making any laws or regulations tending " to 
 exclude any person, of any religious denomination what- 
 ever, from equal liberty and advantage of education, or 
 from any of the liberties, privileges, benefits, and im- 
 munities of said College, on account of his particular 
 tenets in matters of religion." 
 
 The popular dread of the beginning of a Church estab- 
 lishment in connection with King's College seems to have 
 been unreasonably excessive. It would have been ex- 
 traordinary at that time for any institution of learning 
 in the British dominions not to have some religious con- 
 nection ; and in view of the fact that the only endowment 
 of the institution was to be derived from property held by 
 Trinity Church, it was not unreasonable that the President 
 of the College should be required to be a communicant of 
 the Church of England, or that the daily prayers should 
 be taken from the liturgy of that Church, always provided 
 that the benefits of the institution should be free and 
 open to all students without regard to their religious 
 associations or convictions. How little the Governors of 
 King's College were disposed to make the College sectarian 
 in character, and how ready they were to make it service- 
 able to other denominations than the Church of England, 
 was significantly shown at the very meeting at which the 
 Charter was delivered. After the reply of Mr. Chambers 
 to the Lieutenant-Governor, the Rev. Mr. Ritzema, Senior 
 Minister of the Reformed Protestant Dutch Church, said 
 that he was sorry to have observed the differences and ani- 
 mosities which had arisen concerning certain restrictions 
 in the Charter. He expressed his hope that some means 
 
308 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 might be devised to heal them, and the opinion that it 
 would greatly conduce to that end if his Honor would be 
 pleased to grant, either by addition to the Charter or in 
 such other manner as should be thought most proper, that 
 there should be established in the College a Professor of 
 Divinity, with a suitable allowance of salary, for the 
 education of such of the youth of the Dutch Church as 
 might be intended for the ministry, the Professor to be 
 chosen by the Consistory of the Church for the time 
 being. In reply, the Lieutenant- Governor expressed his 
 approval of the suggestion and his willingness to grant 
 any application in accordance with it that the Governors 
 might address to him. Thereupon the Governors unani- 
 mously adopted Mr. Ritzema's proposal and appointed a 
 committee to prepare their petition accordingly. At their 
 next meeting, a draft of the petition was approved, and 
 the committee was directed to present it to the Lieutenant- 
 Governor ; and on the 3d of June following, Mr. Banyar, 
 Deputy Secretary of the Province, delivered to the Gov- 
 ernors His Majesty's additional Charter, making provision 
 for the establishment of a Professor of Divinity according 
 to the doctrine, discipline, and worship established by the 
 National Synod of Dort. 
 
 On the same day, a device for the seal of King's College 
 was adopted by the Governors. It was prepared by Dr. 
 Johnson, and continues to be the seal of Columbia College, 
 with no other change than the necessary alteration of the 
 name. The description is given as follows by Professor 
 Van Amringe, literally from the minutes : 
 
 THE DEVICE OE THE COLLEGE SEAL. The Col- 
 lege is represented by a Lady sitting in a Throne or Chair of 
 State, with Severall Children at her knees to represent the 
 Pupils, with I Peter. II., 1, 2, 7 v., under them to express the 
 Temper with which they should apply Themselves to seek for 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 309 
 
 True Wisdom. The words are, Wherefore laying aside all 
 Malice and all Guile, and Hypocrisies and Envies and Evil 
 Speakings, as New-Born Babes desire the Sincere Milk of the 
 Word that ye may grow thereby, &c. One of them She takes 
 by the hand with her left hand expressing her benevolent de- 
 sign of Conducting them to true Wisdom and Virtue. To 
 which purpose She holds open to them a Book in her right 
 hand in which is (in) Greek letters A Of I A ZQNTA, the living 
 or lively Oracles, which is the Epithet that St. Stephen gives 
 to the Holy Scriptures Acts 7 : 38. Out of her Mouth over 
 her left Shoulder, goes a Label with these words in Hebrew 
 Letters OKI-EL God is my Light; alluding to Ps. 27:1, 
 expressing her Acknowledgement of God the Father of Lights, 
 as the Fountain of all that Light, both Natural and Eevealed 
 with which She proposes to inlighten or instruct her Children 
 or Pupils ; whereof the Sun rising under the Label is the Em- 
 blem or Hieroglyphic, alluding to that expression, Mai. IV., 2. 
 The Sun of Righteousness arising with healing in his Wings. 
 Over her head is Jehovah in a Glory, the Beams coming tri- 
 angularly to a Point near her head, with these words around 
 her for her Motto, IN LUMINE TUO VIDEBIMUS LUMEN 
 In thy light shall we see light. Psal. 36 : 9. On the Edge 
 around are engraved in Capitals, SIGILLUM COLLEGII 
 EEG. NOV. EBOR. IN AMERICA The Seal of King's Col- 
 lege at New York in America. 
 
 In 1756 the Governors of King's College undertook 
 the erection of a college building : and on July 23 the 
 first stone, bearing the following inscription, was laid by 
 Governor Sir Charles Hardy: 
 
 Hujus Collegii, Regalis dicti, Regio 
 
 Diplomate constituti in Honorem 
 
 Dei O.M. atq : in Ecclesiae Reiq : Publicae 
 
 Emolumentum, primum hunc lapidem 
 
 Posuit Vir praecellentissimus, Carolus 
 
 Hardy, Eques Auratus, hujus Provinciae 
 
 Praef ectus dignissimus. Aug". die 23. 
 
 AN. DOM. MDCCLVI. 
 
310 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 In 1756, Mr. William Johnson, A.M., a graduate of 
 Yale, who had been appointed in 1755 as an additional 
 instructor, went to England to take Orders, and Mr. 
 Leonard Cutting, of Pembroke Hall, Cambridge, was ap- 
 pointed in his stead. In November, 1757, Dr. Johnson 
 left the city on account of the prevalence of small-pox. 
 He remained in the adjacent county of West Chester for 
 more than a year, during which time his service to the 
 College was interrupted ; and Mr. Cutting being unequal 
 to the care of all the thirty students who were then con- 
 nected with the institution, Mr. Treadwell, a graduate of 
 Harvard, was appointed Professor of Mathematics and 
 Natural Philosophy. A supply of instruments for teach- 
 ing experimental philosophy was imported from Europe 
 for Mr. Treadwell's use. 
 
 On June 21, 1758, shortly after Mr. Johnson's return 
 to the city, the first Commencement of King's College 
 was held. The degree of Bachelor of Arts was con- 
 ferred on five of the eight students who had been ad- 
 mitted in 1754, and upon three other gentlemen who had 
 been educated either in Philadelphia or at Princeton. On 
 the same occasion, the degree of Master of Arts was con- 
 ferred upon twelve gentlemen who had been educated 
 elsewhere, some of the twelve who already held the degree 
 being admitted ad eundem, and others being admitted 
 honoris causa. 
 
 In the following year, there was no public Commence- 
 ment, but the degree of Bachelor of Arts was conferred 
 on one candidate who had been educated at Princeton, 
 and on one of the six students who had been matriculated 
 in 1855. Of the other five original members of the class, 
 it appears from the record of the College, that one "in 
 his third year, went to Philadelphia " ; another, " about the 
 middle of his second year, went into the army " ; a third, 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 311 
 
 "after three years, went to merchandise " ; the fourth, 
 " after two years, went to privateering " ; and the fifth, 
 " after three years, went to nothing " I 
 
 In October, 1759, Dr. Johnson again left the city, to 
 escape from the terrors of small-pox, and during his 
 absence, which continued until the month of May follow- 
 ing, his duties were divided between Mr. Cutting and Pro- 
 fessor Treadwell. The declining health of the latter, who 
 died in 1760, made it necessary to find some one to take 
 his place, and a committee was appointed to write to the 
 Archbishop of Canterbury and other fit persons to aid them 
 in procuring competent men " to assist the President in 
 carrying on the education and instruction of the youth of 
 the College." Archbishop Seeker seems to have taken 
 considerable interest in the matter, though for a time with- 
 out success. It was not until November, 1761, that Mr. 
 Treadwell's chair was filled by the appointment of Mr. 
 Robert Harpur, a gentleman who had been educated at 
 Glasgow ; and it was only in the autumn of 1762 that the 
 Rev. Myles Cooper, A.M. (afterwards D.C.L.), Fellow 
 of Queen's College, Oxford, was sent out by Archbishop 
 Seeker to fill the Chair of Moral Philosophy and assist 
 the President in his instruction and government. In the 
 mean time, about one-third of the College building the 
 part which afterwards stood between the wings of the old 
 edifice in College Place had been so far completed that 
 in 1760 the officers and students began to lodge and 
 mess there. The plan was greatly admired, and the Rev. 
 Dr. Burnaby, who was then travelling in the Province, 
 wrote of it as follows : 
 
 The College, well finished, will be exceedingly handsome. 
 It is to be built on three sides of a quadrangle, fronting Hud- 
 son's or North River, and will be the most beautifully situated 
 of any College, I believe, in the world. At present, only one 
 
312 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 wing is finished, which is of stone, and consists of twenty-four 
 sets of apartments, each having a large sitting-room, with a 
 study and bed-chamber. 
 
 On March 1, 1763, Dr. Johnson resigned the Presi- 
 dency of the College, and on April 12, Mr. Cooper was 
 elected as his successor. The administration of the new 
 President was vigorous, and for several years it was 
 exceedingly successful. At the meeting of the Govern- 
 ors, at which Dr. Johnson's resignation was accepted, 
 it was resolved to establish a Grammar School, which was 
 opened shortly afterwards under the charge of Mr. Mat- 
 thew Cushing, of Charlestown, Massachusetts. Within a 
 short time a librarian was appointed ; the Statutes of the 
 College were revised and improved, and the scheme of 
 studies in the Classical Department of the College was 
 greatly enlarged. 
 
 In October of the same year, Mr. Cutting resigned 
 his position, and it was not until two years later that Dr. 
 Clossy, who had been educated at Trinity College, Dub- 
 lin, and was the author of an able work on "Morbid 
 Anatomy," was induced to accept the vacant position, 
 with a salary of X144. A further salary of X36 was 
 assigned to him as Professor of Natural Philosophy, Pro- 
 fessor Harpur thereafter teaching only Mathematics. 
 
 On February 26, 1767, a committee which had been ap- 
 pointed to petition the Governor of the Province for a 
 grant of land, reported that they had obtained a grant of 
 twenty-four thousand acres. The committee was there- 
 upon empowered to view the lands, and if it should then 
 be thought proper, to have them surveyed. From subse- 
 quent proceedings which were taken in 1770 for the more 
 speedy settlement of these lands, it appears that they were 
 situated in the new county of Gloucester, that they had 
 been erected into a township with the usual privileges, 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 313 
 
 and that they were intended to become the site of the 
 county town, to the great advantage of the College. Un- 
 luckily, however, it turned out that the township was com- 
 prehended within a tract of country which had been long 
 in dispute between New York and New Hampshire, and 
 which was erected after the Revolution into the new 
 State of Vermont. In the settlement of the affair it was 
 agreed on the part of the State of New York that, in con- 
 sideration of a sum of 130,000, all grants of lands, lying 
 within the limits of Vermont, which had been previously 
 made by the authority of New York, should be declared 
 to be null and void ; and so the magnificent landed endow- 
 ment of the College, on which so many hopes had been 
 founded, was irretrievably lost. The considerations of 
 public policy by which the State of New York was induced 
 to consent to this settlement were, no doubt, weighty ; 
 but the surrender of the right of the College to a property 
 which would speedily have furnished it with an ample rev- 
 enue was a misfortune which no subsequent assistance 
 from the State could be expected adequately to repair. 
 
 In 1767, the Grammar School appeared to have been 
 less successful than the expense incurred in supporting it 
 had entitled the Governors to expect. It was therefore 
 reorganized with a smaller staff than before, but the Gov- 
 ernors were so far from being discouraged by this dis- 
 appointment, that they proceeded to adopt a scheme, 
 proposed by Dr. Glossy, for the establishment of a 
 Medical School. In connection with Dr. Glossy, Drs. 
 Middleton, Jones, Smith, Bard, and Tennent undertook 
 to act as professors. Drs. Middleton, Jones, and Bard 
 soon afterwards projected the foundation of the New 
 York Hospital, and at the Commencement of the College, 
 in 1768, Dr. Bard set forth the necessity and usefulness 
 of a public infirmary so warmly and pathetically that Sir 
 
314 MEMOIKS OP 
 
 Henry Moore himself immediately set on foot a subscrip- 
 tion for that purpose. 
 
 For several years the College, the Grammar School, 
 and the Medical School seem to have made steady and 
 substantial progress. The teaching Faculty was gradu- 
 ally enlarged, and the President and Governors must 
 evidently have intended so to extend the plan of the 
 institution as to make it a true university. Among the 
 papers of the College is one attributed to Dr. Cooper, 
 which was probably written in 1773 or 1774, giving the 
 following account of the condition and prospects of the 
 Institution at that date: 
 
 Since the passing of the charter the Institution hath 
 received great emolument by grants from his most gracious 
 majesty King George the Third, and by liberal contributions 
 from many of the nobility and gentry in the parent country ; 
 from the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign 
 Parts, and from several public-spirited gentlemen in America 
 and elsewhere. By means of these and other benefactions, 
 the Governors of the College have been enabled to extend 
 their plan of education almost as diffusely as any college in 
 Europe ; herein being taught by proper Masters and Professors, 
 who are chosen by the Governors and President, Divinity, 
 Natural Law, Physic, Logic, Ethics, Metaphysics, Mathe- 
 matics, Natural Philosophy, Astronomy, Geography, History, 
 Chronology, Rhetoric, Hebrew, Greek, Latin, Modern Lan- 
 guages, the Belles-Lettres, and whatever else of literature may 
 tend to accomplish the pupils as scholars and gentlemen. 
 
 To the College is also annexed a Grammar School for the 
 due preparation of those who propose to complete their educa- 
 tion with the arts and sciences. 
 
 All students but those in Medicine are obliged to lodge 
 and diet in the College, unless they are particularly exempted 
 by the Governors or President ; and the edifice is surrounded 
 by an high fence, which also encloses a large court and garden, 
 and a porter constantly attends at the front gate, which is 
 closed at ten o'clock each evening in summer and nine in 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 315 
 
 winter ; after which hours the names of all that come in are 
 delivered weekly to the President. 
 
 The College is situated on a dry, gravelly soil, about one 
 hundred and fifty yards from the bank of the Hudson Biver, 
 which it overlooks ; commanding, from the eminence on which 
 it stands, a most extensive and beautiful prospect of the 
 opposite shore and country of New Jersey, the City and 
 Island of New York, Long Island, Staten Island, New York 
 Bay with its Islands, the Narrows, forming the mouth of the 
 harbor, etc., etc., and being totally unencumbered by any 
 adjacent buildings, and admitting the purest circulation of air 
 from the river and every other quarter, has the benefit of as 
 agreeable and healthy a situation as can possibly be conceived. 
 
 Visitations by the Governors are quarterly ; at which times 
 premiums of books, silver medals, etc., are adjudged to the 
 most deserving. 
 
 This Seminary hath already produced a number of gentle- 
 men who do great honor to their professions, the place of their 
 education and themselves, in Divinity, Law, Medicine, etc., 
 etc., in this and various other colonies, both on the American 
 continent and West India Islands ; and the College is annually 
 increasing as well in students as reputation. 
 
 From the account of Dr. Cooper, King's College had 
 now reached a condition of prosperity which justified the 
 most sanguine hopes of its friends and patrons in England 
 and America ; but their hopes were doomed to disappoint- 
 ment. The dispute between the American Colonies and 
 the mother country was growing rapidly to the dimen- 
 sions of an international quarrel, and if the Colonies had 
 earnest and enthusiastic supporters in England, England 
 had loyal and devoted adherents among the colonists. 
 The controversy grew daily more and more embittered, 
 and as a loyal subject of the Crown, Dr. Cooper considered 
 himself bound to take an active part in maintaining the 
 authority of the Government. He distinguished himself 
 in controversy with Smith, Livingston, and other literary 
 
316 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 champions of the Whig party, and he had the misfortune 
 to be worsted by an anonymous antagonist whom he pres- 
 ently discovered to be one of his own pupils, Alexander 
 Hamilton, then a student in one of the Junior classes. 
 The talents and popularity of Dr. Cooper won for him the 
 respect and affection of his students, but did not prevent 
 them from rejecting his Tory principles. Some of them, 
 indeed, like Jay and Livingston, Maurice and Benson, 
 Van Cortlandt and Rutgers, Troup and Hamilton, were 
 among the first to pronounce for independence, and were 
 destined to become leaders of their countrymen, both in 
 the cabinet and in the field. 
 
 " It would be an injustice to the memory of Dr. Cooper," 
 says a writer in the Analectic Magazine, " not to add 
 that, far from betraying anything like mortification or 
 resentment, he uniformly treated his youthful antagonist, 
 Hamilton, with good humor and even respect," which 
 there is every reason to believe was kindly reciprocated. 
 This academic tolerance, however, did not extend to the 
 populace. A letter was published, bearing date, Philadel- 
 phia, April 25, 1775, and addressed to Dr. Cooper and four 
 other gentlemen of New York, which ascribed to them, 
 and to their assurances of the defection of New York, " all 
 the hostile proceedings of England the blood of their 
 fellow-subjects who had fallen in Massachusetts towns 
 in flames a desolated country, butchered fathers, weep- 
 ing widows and children, with all the horrors of a civil 
 war." They were denounced as parricides and were told 
 that "the Americans, reduced to desperation, would no 
 longer satisfy their resentment with the execution of 
 villains in effigy." The letter was signed " Three Mill- 
 ions," and concluded with this significant exhortation : 
 " Fly for your lives, or anticipate your doom by becoming 
 your own executioners." This warning was speedily 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 317 
 
 followed by a popular outbreak. On the night of May 
 10, a mob of several hundred men forcibly entered Dr. 
 Cooper's apartment in the College, but, fortunately, one 
 of his former pupils had succeeded in advising him of his 
 danger just in time to enable him to escape. He made his 
 way, "only half dressed, over the College fence, reached the 
 shore of the Hudson, and wandered along the river bank 
 until near morning, when he found shelter in the house of 
 his friend, Mr. Stuyvesant, where he remained for that 
 day, and during the night following took refuge on board 
 the Kingfisher, Captain James Montagu, an English ship 
 of war at anchor in the harbor, in which, soon afterwards, 
 he sailed for England." 
 
 Six days after the escape of the President, the Rev. 
 Benjamin Moore, an alumnus of the College who had 
 recently returned from England in Holy Orders and who 
 afterwards became Bishop of New York, was appointed 
 Presses pro tempore, as it was still supposed that Dr. 
 Cooper might return. In consequence of Dr. Cooper's 
 absence, no public Commencement was held that year, but 
 the degree of Bachelor of Arts was conferred on seven 
 students, two alumni of the College were admitted to 
 the degree of Master of Arts, and eight students were 
 matriculated. 
 
 On the 6th of April, 1776, the Treasurer of the Col- 
 lege received a message from the Committee of Safety, 
 desiring the Governors " to prepare the College within six 
 days for the reception of troops." The students were 
 dispersed; the library and apparatus were deposited in 
 the City Hall ; the College buildings were converted into 
 a military hospital. In the end, almost all the apparatus 
 was wholly lost ; of the library, only six or seven hundred 
 volumes were discovered about thirty years afterwards in 
 a room belonging to St. Paul's Chapel, and no one knew 
 
318 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 how or when they had been placed there. The seizure 
 of the College building and the practical suppression of 
 the institution were probably prompted by misdirected 
 political animosity; but whatever Dr. Cooper's personal 
 course may have been, the history of the United States 
 bears witness to the fact that the alumni of King's College 
 did noble service to their country both during the War of 
 Independence and in the hardly less trying times which 
 followed. 
 
 In 1776 no public Commencement was held, though six 
 students were admitted to the degree of Bachelor of Arts, 
 and the College record of the year remarks that "the 
 turbulence and confusion which prevailed in every part of 
 the country effectually suppressed every literary pursuit." 
 Nevertheless, some instruction appears to have been given 
 outside the walls of the College, for in 1777 two students 
 were matriculated ; the Governors must have continued 
 to hold occasional meetings, as there still exists a certified 
 copy of the records of a meeting held on May 17, 1781 ; 
 and it appears from the minutes of a meeting of the 
 Trustees of Columbia College, held on March 18, 1788, 
 that "Mr. Moore, the President ad interim, occupied 
 during a part of this period (1776-1784) a house fur- 
 nished by Mr. Lispenard for the use of the officers and 
 students of the College when the College edifice was 
 converted into a hospital." For eight years, however, 
 from 1776 to 1784, King's College was virtually suspended, 
 and it was only revived by an act passed on May 1 of the 
 latter year " for granting certain privileges to the College 
 heretofore called King's College, for altering the name 
 and charter thereof, and erecting an University within 
 this State." 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 319 
 
 COLUMBIA COLLEGE. 
 
 The University of the State of New York was organ- 
 ized by the Act of May 1, 1784, under twenty-one Re- 
 gents who had power to visit and inspect all colleges and 
 schools established in the State ; to appoint a president of 
 any college or a principal of any academy which might be 
 vacant without reasonable cause for one year ; to incorpo- 
 rate new colleges ; and to confer all degrees above that of 
 Master of Arts which were known or granted by any uni- 
 versity or college in Europe. On November 26 of the 
 same year, this act was amended, but the provisions of 
 the amended act were found to be so obscure and incon- 
 sistent, that it was impossible for the Regents to proceed 
 with satisfaction in the reorganization of King's College. 
 Accordingly, on April 13, 1787, a new act was passed, en- 
 titled " An Act to Institute an University within this State, 
 and for other Purposes therein Mentioned." Under this 
 act the University of the State of New York was continued 
 with the same powers as before, but the administration of 
 the Institution formerly known as King's College was com- 
 mitted to a separate corporation. " The Charter hereto- 
 fore granted to the Governors of the College of the Prov- 
 ince of New York in the City of New York in America" 
 was "fully and absolutely ratified and confirmed in all 
 respects," with these exceptions: (1) The College was 
 thenceforth to be called Columbia College, and the style 
 of the corporation was to be " the Trustees of Columbia 
 College in the City of New York "; (2) No persons were 
 to be trustees " in virtue of any offices, characters, or 
 descriptions whatsoever " ; (3) The clauses of the Charter 
 requiring " the taking of oaths and the subscribing of a 
 declaration," " making a person ineligible to the office of 
 President on account of his religious tenets," and "pre- 
 
320 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 scribing a form of public prayer to be used in the Col- 
 lege," were repealed ; (4) The provision of the Charter 
 requiring obedience to the laws of England was likewise 
 repealed, and it was enacted that laws and ordinances 
 made by the Trustees should not be contrary to the Con- 
 stitution and Laws of the State of New York ; (5) The 
 provision of the Charter requiring a quorum of fifteen 
 Governors for the despatch of business was amended so 
 that a quorum of thirteen Trustees should suffice. 
 
 Twenty-nine Trustees of Columbia College were named 
 and appointed in the act, and it was provided that when 
 their number should be reduced by death, resignation, or 
 removal to twenty-four, these twenty-four should be the 
 Trustees in perpetual succession, with power to fill vacan- 
 cies, as granted in the original Charter. All rights, privi- 
 leges, and immunities, previously conferred upon the 
 Governors of King's College, and all property, real and 
 personal, belonging to that corporation, were granted to 
 and vested in " the Trustees of Columbia College in the 
 State of New York." 
 
 The first Trustees of Columbia College, appointed by 
 the act of April 13, 1787, were the following: 
 
 James Duane, Samuel Provost, John H. Livingston, 
 Richard Varick, Alexander Hamilton, John Mason, James 
 Wilson, John Gano, Brockholst Livingston, Robert 
 Harper, John Daniel Gross, Johann Christoff Kunze, Wal- 
 ter Livingston, Lewis A. Scott, Joseph Delaplaine, Leon- 
 ard Lispenard, Abraham Beach, John Lawrance, John 
 Rutherford, Morgan Lewis, John Cochran, Gershom 
 Seixas, Charles M'Knight, Thomas Jones, Malachi Treat, 
 Samuel Bard, Nicholas Romein, Benjamin Kissam, and 
 Ebenezer Crossby. 
 
 The Trustees of Columbia College assembled for organ- 
 ization on May 8, 1787, when Robert Harper and Brock- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 321 
 
 hoist Livingston were reappointed to their respective 
 offices of Clerk and Treasurer which they had held under 
 the Regent of the University, and by-laws which had 
 been previously established by the Regents, so far as they 
 were applicable to the present Constitution of the College, 
 were adopted. 
 
 On the 21st of the same month, William Samuel John- 
 son, LL.D., son of the first President of King's College, 
 was elected President, but did not signify his acceptance 
 to the Trustees until the month of November following. 
 When he took charge of the institution, the College 
 proper had thirty-nine students, nearly one-half of whom 
 were Freshmen. Ten of the students had rooms, and five 
 of the ten were boarded, in the College. The annual in- 
 come of the institution was about .1330, and out of this 
 modest sum the Trustees maintained a Faculty of Arts 
 consisting of three Professors. The Faculty of Medicine 
 likewise consisted of three Professors. During the next 
 five years nothing of great importance appears to have 
 occurred, except that in 1788 John Randolph, of Mattoax, 
 Virginia, afterwards better known as John Randolph of 
 Roanoke, and his brother, Theodoric, entered the Freshman 
 class. Theodoric does not appear to have passed beyond 
 his Sophomore year, but John is known to have continued 
 his studies as a Junior in 1790. 
 
 In February, 1792, the Trustees, acting at the instance 
 of the Medical Society of the State of New York and in 
 concert with the Regents of the University, enlarged the 
 Faculty of the Medical School by the appointment of a 
 Dean and seven Professors. Dr. Samuel Bard, who had 
 been Professor of the Theory and Practice of Medicine in 
 the first Medical School established by the College in 1767, 
 and who had more recently held the Chairs of Chemistry 
 and of Natural Philosophy and Astronomy, under the Re- 
 
322 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 gents, was elected Dean; the Professors associated with 
 him were Drs. Baily, Post, Rodgers, Hamersley, Smith, 
 Nicoll, and Kissam, all men of acknowledged eminence in 
 their profession. 
 
 A few months later, the Trustees were encouraged by 
 the liberality of the Legislature to make a large addition 
 to the College Library, and what was of more importance, 
 greatly to increase the teaching staff of the department. 
 The Legislature made a grant of a lump sum of 7900 
 and a further appropriation of ,750 to be paid annually 
 for a term of five years. With this assistance the Trus- 
 tees felt justified in proceeding to the erection of an 
 additional building, the foundation of which was laid 
 along the west side of the College Green, at right angles 
 to the existing edifice, and on the northern end of this 
 foundation a structure was begun which was intended 
 to contain a hall and several recitation-rooms. 
 
 The Trustees next proceeded to the enlargement of the 
 teaching Faculty of the College. Dr. Kunze was reap- 
 pointed Professor of Oriental Languages; Dr. Mitchill, 
 Professor of Natural History, Chemistry, Agriculture, 
 and Botany ; M. de Marcelan, Professor of French. In 
 the following year, 1793, Mr. James Kent was elected 
 Professor of Law, and in 1795 the Rev. Dr. M'Knight 
 was appointed Professor of Moral Philosophy and Logic ; 
 the Rev. John Bisset, A.M., Professor of Rhetoric and 
 Belles-Lettres ; and a Professorship of Geography was 
 added to that of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy, 
 which was already held by Dr. Kemp. 
 
 It unfortunately turned out that the Trustees had un- 
 dertaken more than their means permitted them to accom- 
 plish, and in 1796 they were obliged to ask for a further 
 appropriation from the Legislature to enable them to com- 
 plete the College building. The application was refused ; 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 323 
 
 the committee in charge of the building was instructed 
 to proceed with it until the money in their hands should 
 be expended ; and in the month of June, 1796, the com- 
 mittee was further directed to sell the perishable building 
 material which then remained on hand. In 1797, the ap- 
 propriation of .750 per annum which had been made for 
 five years by the Legislature was not renewed and the 
 Trustees were greatly embarrassed. Professor Kent's 
 lectures on Law were discontinued in 1798. In Febru- 
 ary, 1799, the teaching Faculty was still further reduced. 
 The Chairs of Rhetoric and Belles-Lettres, and of Logic 
 and Moral Philosophy, were committed to the President ; 
 Mathematics, Natural Philosophy, and Geography were 
 united under one Professor ; the Latin and Greek lan- 
 guages, and the Roman and Greek antiquities, were united 
 under another ; the Professorships of Oriental Languages, 
 of French and of Law, were altogether discontinued ; but 
 a Chair of Natural History and Chemistry was estab- 
 lished, and these studies were included in the regular 
 academic course. 
 
 On July 16, 1800, says Professor Van Amringe : 
 
 Dr. Johnson, having nearly reached his 74th year, and feel- 
 ing the infirmities of age, resigned his presidency and retired 
 to Stratford. The tranquil life to which he was there restored, 
 and the air of his native village, reestablished in a great 
 degree his bodily health, and in the enjoyment of a leisure 
 so well earned by the professional toils and highly important 
 public services of his previous long career, he lived to enter 
 upon his 93d year, " retaining to the last his vigor and activity 
 of mind, the ardor of his literary curiosity, and a most lively 
 interest in whatever concerned the welfare of this country 
 and of the Christian world." 
 
 On May 25, 1801, the Rev. Dr. Wharton, of Philadel- 
 phia, was elected President. His acceptance was signified 
 
324 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 by letter on August 3d; but on December llth of the 
 same year he resigned his position. On December 30th, 
 the Trustees resolved that the President should in future 
 be released from the Professorship of Rhetoric, Belles- 
 Lettres, Logic, and Moral Philosophy, which had been 
 attached to his office in 1799, and that he should there- 
 after be charged only with the superintendence of the 
 institution, including the duty of presiding at examina- 
 tions and commencements, and such other duties as were 
 appropriate to his office. Under this arrangement the 
 Right Rev. Benjamin Moore, Bishop of New York, who 
 had been appointed Presses ad interim on the depart- 
 ure of Dr. Cooper in 1775, was appointed on the fol- 
 lowing day to the office of President ; and, at the same 
 time, the Rev. Dr. Bowden, who was also an alumnus of 
 the College, was appointed to the Professorship of Moral 
 Philosophy, Rhetoric, Belles-Lettres, and Logic, which 
 for the two previous years had been held by President 
 Johnson. 
 
 The internal organization of the College under the 
 Presidency of Bishop Moore was far from perfect, and 
 was probably not intended to be permanent. He did 
 not reside in the College nor take an active part in the 
 administration of its ordinary discipline, the government 
 of the students being committed to the Faculty. Never- 
 theless, under the wise and judicious conduct of Drs. 
 Kemp, Wilson, and Bowen, the institution continued for 
 ten years to grow in numbers and to increase in reputa- 
 tion. A grant of land which was made by the Regents 
 of the University in 1802 yielded a certain revenue, and 
 the real estate in the city which belonged to the College 
 grew daily more valuable, so that the Trustees were 
 enabled to complete the hall and recitation-rooms on 
 the north end of the new foundation. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 325 
 
 It was impossible at that time to do more. The re- 
 mainder of the building which had been so hopefully 
 begun fell gradually to ruin, while the original edifice 
 presented a decayed and unsightly appearance. But the 
 internal life of the College was vigorous. In the month 
 of June, 1809, upon the recommendation of a committee 
 consisting of Mr. Rufus King and the Rev. Drs. Mason, 
 Abeel, Hobart, and Miller, the standard of scholarship re- 
 quired for admission to the College was notably raised, 
 and on October 1, 1810, the whole course of studies and 
 the system of discipline were revised in accordance with 
 the new statute of admission. This action had the 
 double effect of elevating the standard of collegiate 
 education and of establishing the College in the respect 
 and confidence of the community, so that, in the spring 
 of 1810, the Trustees obtained a new charter from the 
 Legislature by which certain restrictions in the former 
 charter were removed and certain defects which experi- 
 ence had discovered were supplied. Among other altera- 
 tions, the limit of the term for which the College might 
 grant leases was extended from twenty-one years to 
 sixty-three years. 
 
 From the Annual Report of the Regents in February, 
 1810, it appears that the number of students matriculated 
 for that year was 135; and the Trustees observed that 
 "the Regents will perceive that, notwithstanding the 
 embarrassments with which she has had to struggle, 
 Columbia College not only maintains her ground, but 
 increases her importance." They further observed that 
 they have so far prosecuted the theoretical and practical 
 system of the College as "to lay a broader and stronger 
 foundation for sound and thorough education than, as 
 they believed, has hitherto been known in these States." 
 
 Columbia College having now (1811) been brought to 
 
326 MEMOIRS or 
 
 a state of prosperity which required the undivided service 
 of the President, Bishop Moore resigned his office, and in 
 the following month the Trustees created the new office 
 of Provost. The Provost was to supply the place of the 
 President in his absence, to share in the general superin- 
 tendence of the College, and to conduct the classical 
 studies of the Senior class. Under this new arrangement, 
 the Rev. William Harris was elected President and the 
 Rev. Dr. John M. Mason was elected Provost. The 
 President being ex officio a member of the Board of 
 Trustees, an act of the Legislature was obtained under 
 which the Provost was made eligible to membership in 
 the same Board, and in May, 1813, Dr. Mason was 
 elected a Trustee. The division of responsibility between 
 the President and the Provost does not seem to have 
 worked well, and was not long continued. In July, 1816, 
 Dr. Mason resigned his office, and in November following 
 the Trustees resolved that the powers and duties of the 
 Provost, with the exception of taking the classical studies 
 of the Senior Class, should be committed to the President. 
 Under this arrangement, President Harris became the 
 sole responsible head of the College. 
 
 The College of Physicians and Surgeons having been 
 established in the city of New York by the Regents of 
 the University, the Trustees of Columbia, on November 1, 
 1813, agreed to incorporate their Medical School with 
 that new institution, and in accordance with this agree- 
 ment, the separate exercises of the Medical School of 
 Columbia College were then discontinued. 
 
 In 1814, the Legislature made to the College a grant of 
 about twenty acres of land on Manhattan Island, pre- 
 viously occupied as a Botanic Garden by the late Dr. 
 Hosack, from whom it had been purchased by the State. 
 The grant was made on condition that the College should 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 327 
 
 be removed to that tract of land within a period of twelve 
 years, and was intended by the Legislature to be a partial 
 compensation for the large estate in Gloucester County 
 which the College had lost when Vermont became a State 
 of the Union. The land was at that time about three 
 miles from the city, and was valued at about $250 per 
 acre, or altogether, at about $5000. When it passed into 
 the possession of the Trustees it was yielding a trifling 
 income, but as the city was extended further and further 
 northward, the revenue derived from it was wholly inade- 
 quate to meet the taxes and assessments which were 
 levied upon it. For many years, the management of this 
 property was a matter of great perplexity to the Trustees ; 
 but at length, in 1850-52, it was so judiciously leased 
 that it has become a very valuable endowment of the 
 College. It is now situated in the best part of the city 
 and extends east and west between Fifth and Sixth 
 Avenues, and north and south between Forty-seventh 
 and Fifty-first Streets. 
 
 It does not seem to have been expected that the Legis- 
 lature would exact from the Trustees a fulfilment of the 
 condition annexed to the grant of the Botanic Garden, 
 that the College should be removed to that place within 
 a period of twelve years, and in 1819 the condition was 
 repealed. Meanwhile, in 1817, the Trustees having made 
 a careful examination of their financial resources, resolved 
 to make thorough repairs of the old edifice, and also to 
 erect additional buildings. The old building was greatly 
 altered, part of it being reserved as a dwelling-house, 
 and the rest being so arranged as to furnish a Chapel, a 
 Library, and the necessary recitation-rooms. Two wings 
 were added, each fifty feet square and each containing 
 two houses for professors. In the prosecution of this 
 work, the Trustees were aided by an appropriation of 
 
328 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ),000 from the Legislature ; but, notwithstanding this 
 assistance, when the Building Committee presented its 
 report on October 2, 1820, it appeared that the cost of 
 the additions and alterations had so far exceeded the 
 estimates that a considerable debt had been incurred. 
 It is creditable to the Trustees that they did not allow 
 this embarrassment to hinder them either from rewarding 
 a faithful member of the Faculty, or from undertaking a 
 necessary extension of the College curriculum. On the 
 resignation of Dr. Wilson, who was obliged by increasing 
 infirmities to lay down his Professorship, the Trustees, 
 in consideration of his "faithful and eminently useful 
 services during eight and twenty years, of his advanced 
 age, and the peculiar circumstances of his situation," 
 granted him a liberal annuity for life. A division of the 
 Professorship of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy 
 having been found to be necessary, it was divided accord- 
 ingly into two Professorships of Mathematics and Astron- 
 omy, and of Natural and Experimental Philosophy, the 
 former remaining to Dr. Adrain, and Mr. James Renwick 
 being appointed to the latter. Dr. Wilson was succeeded 
 by his adjunct professor, Mr. Nathaniel F. Moore, and 
 Mr. Charles Anthon was promoted to the position vacated 
 by Professor Moore. Thus, for the first time in its 
 history, most of the Chairs of the Faculty of Columbia 
 were filled by her own alumni, Professors McVickar, 
 Moore, Anthon, and Renwick having all been educated 
 and graduated at Columbia, whereas, before 1817, only 
 three professors, Bishop Moore, the Rev. John Bowden, 
 and the Rev. John Vardill (who probably never entered 
 on the duties of his office), were graduates of Columbia. 
 
 On November 3, 1823, Mr. James Kent was reappointed 
 to the Professorship of Law which he had previously 
 held from 1798 to 1818; and it was under this appoint- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 329 
 
 ment that this distinguished American jurist delivered 
 the lectures which were afterwards expanded into his 
 great Commentaries. 
 
 In October, 1827, the Trustees resolved to establish a 
 Grammar School under the control of the Faculty of the 
 College, but the plan failed of success until it had been 
 considerably modified, and even then it did not realize 
 the hopes of the Trustees. In 1829 a building was pro- 
 vided for its accommodation on the College ground, and 
 Mr. John D. Ogilby was appointed Master. The Gram- 
 mar School continued to exist until 1864, when it was 
 wholly discontinued. 
 
 In October, 1829, Dr. Harris died, after a service as 
 President of over eighteen years, for thirteen of which he 
 had been in full charge of the College. On December 
 9th the Hon. William A. Duer, LL.D., was appointed 
 to succeed him. 
 
 Early in 1830, an important modification of the College 
 system was introduced, with a view of rendering the 
 benefits of education more generally accessible to the 
 community. The existing course of study, which was 
 now called the Full Course, was maintained and enlarged, 
 and the time of daily attendance upon the professors 
 which was required of students was materially increased. 
 At the same time, another course of study, called the 
 Scientific and Literary Course, was established. It was 
 to be open to others besides matriculated students, and 
 all persons who availed themselves of its privileges were 
 to be at liberty to use them at their own discretion 
 and to such an extent as they might find to be desirable. 
 In 1836, both courses of study were again revised and 
 enlarged. The Scientific and Literary Course in particu- 
 lar was greatly extended, and in order that the scientific 
 branches of both courses might be more efficiently con- 
 
330 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ducted, a sum of $10,000 was appropriated for the pur- 
 chase of additional apparatus and for the addition to the 
 Library of the necessary books of reference and illustra- 
 tion. This appropriation is particularly remarkable, as 
 the sum of 12300 had been expended during the previous 
 year in the purchase of two collections of minerals. It 
 was hoped and believed that the Scientific and Literary 
 Course would be acceptable to many students who might 
 lack the time or the means to prosecute the Full Course, 
 but this hopeful expectation was disappointed. From the 
 very first, the number of students was small, and it 
 steadily grew smaller; from 1839 to 1843 there were 
 in all but four; in 1843, there was not one, and in that 
 year the Literary and Scientific Course was altogether 
 discontinued. 
 
 On April 13, 1837, Columbia College celebrated with 
 great solemnity the Fiftieth Anniversary of its reorgani- 
 zation. The Trustees, the Faculty, the Alumni, and the 
 Students united in appropriate ceremonies. In the morn- 
 ing, after suitable religious services at St. John's Chapel, 
 an oration and a poem were delivered by Alumni who 
 had been previously appointed; odes in several languages, 
 which had been composed and set to music for the occa- 
 sion, were sung; and honorary degrees were conferred 
 upon several distinguished gentlemen. In the evening 
 the College was decorated and illuminated, and thrown 
 open for the reception and entertainment of a large num- 
 ber of invited guests. 
 
 In January, 1838, the College Library received a val- 
 uable addition by the purchase of the Library of the 
 former Professor Moore. At the same time, Professor 
 Moore was appointed Librarian and was occupied for 
 about a year in arranging the Library and preparing a 
 catalogue. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 331 
 
 In May, 1842, on the resignation of President Duer, 
 after a severe and long-continued illness, Nathaniel F. 
 Moore, LL.D., was appointed in his place. 
 
 In 1843, a Professorship of the German Language and 
 Literature was established on an endowment of 120,000, 
 bequeathed for that purpose by Frederick Gebhard, Esq. 
 In the month of June following, John Lewis Tellkampf, 
 U.I.D., of Gottingen, was appointed Gebhard Professor, 
 and at the same time, the German Language and Litera- 
 ture was made a part of the undergraduate course. 
 Certain difficulties which had been partly foreseen inter- 
 fered with the success of this new arrangement. In 1847, 
 Professor Tellkampf resigned and was succeeded by the 
 Rev. Henry I. Schmidt, under whom the study of German 
 in the two highest classes was made voluntary. That 
 arrangement continued until 1857, when the study of 
 German was made wholly voluntary in all classes, but 
 was encouraged by the establishment of annual prizes, 
 which had a good effect. 
 
 In December, 1844, a chair of Elocution was estab- 
 lished for the instruction of the Freshman class. 
 
 In 1848, shortly after the death of Chancellor Kent, 
 William Betts, A.M., an alumnus and trustee of the 
 College, was elected Professor of Law, and in the winter 
 of 1849-50 he delivered a course of lectures on Interna- 
 tional Law. 
 
 On the resignation of Dr. Moore, in July, 1849, the 
 Presidency again became vacant, and in the month of 
 November, Charles King, Esq., LL.D., was elected his 
 successor. It was during the early years of President 
 King's administration that the Trustees made the dispo- 
 sition of the tract of land known as the Botanic Garden, 
 which has since proved to be so advantageous to the 
 College. 
 
332 
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 In November, 1854, Dr. Renwick resigned his Pro- 
 fessorship, and an order of Emeritus Professors was then 
 established for the purpose of acknowledging the obli- 
 gation of the College to professors who should have de- 
 voted themselves to its service for twenty years or more. 
 These professors were to have no salaries or stated duties, 
 but were to enjoy certain honors and privileges. Each of 
 them was to be entitled to sit with the Faculty on public 
 occasions, and to deliver an annual lecture in the College; 
 his portrait was to be painted at the expense of the Col- 
 lege and hung in some proper place in the College build- 
 ing ; and he was to have the right of nomination to one 
 free scholarship, to be called by his name. Dr. Renwick 
 was the first Emeritus Professor, and since his time the 
 following gentlemen have received the same honor : the 
 Rev. Dr. John McVickar, Dr. Charles Davies, Dr. Henry 
 James Anderson. 
 
 From 1853 to 1857, the Trustees were anxiously occu- 
 pied with the plans for the removal of the College from 
 College Place to some other part of the city, and for the 
 inauguration of a liberal system of post-graduate instruc- 
 tion. In 1857, the old buildings were abandoned and 
 the College was opened on the very spot and in the very 
 building formerly occupied by the New York Institution 
 for the Instruction of the Deaf and Dumb, in which Dr. 
 Barnard had served from 1832 until 1838. 
 
 In forming their plans for the proposed postgraduate 
 courses, the Trustees contemplated a certain modification 
 of the undergraduate course as it then existed. For the 
 first three years, the Classical Course was to be main- 
 tained, "with adaptations, however, to future studies, 
 both sub-graduate and post-graduate " ; but in addition 
 to the Classical Course, there was to be another " Coordi- 
 nate and mainly Scientific Course, with due regard to 
 
FKEDEBICK A. P. BAKNARD 333 
 
 classical and ethical instruction, to occupy two years, and 
 a third, when the demand should justify it. These two 
 courses, proceeding in nearly parallel lines, were to meet 
 at the commencement of the Senior year and the students 
 were to be prepared to undertake any of the studies to 
 be thereafter taught." 
 
 Three schools were to be established, a School of Phi- 
 losophy or Philology, a School of Jurisprudence and His- 
 tory, and a School of Mathematics and Physical Science, 
 into one of which the students were to be required to enter 
 at the beginning of the Senior year, and at the end of 
 that year, those who had pursued the earlier Classical 
 Course were to receive the degree of Bachelor of Arts, 
 and those who had pursued the Scientific Course, the 
 degree of Bachelor of Science. It was expected and 
 intended that the studies of these schools would be con- 
 tinued in a post-graduate course for two years longer. 
 In accordance with this plan, several professors were 
 added to the Faculty and the Senior class was divided 
 into Schools of Letters, Jurisprudence, and Science ; but 
 it was speedily discovered that the scheme could not be 
 carried out ; the post-graduate course never had any 
 real existence ; after one year of abortive experiment it 
 was practically abandoned, and in 1859 the division of 
 the Senior class into schools was altogether abolished. 
 
 The Professorship of Law, which had formerly been 
 held by Chancellor Kent, and to which Mr. Betts was 
 elected in 1848, had been merely a lectureship, and on 
 the withdrawal of Mr. Betts in 1854, the chair had been 
 allowed to remain vacant. A few law schools existed at 
 that time in other parts of the country, but they attracted 
 no considerable body of students, and candidates for ad- 
 mission to the bar generally pursued their studies in the 
 office of some reputable lawyer. It was felt, however, 
 
334 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 that in the city of New York the establishment of a 
 school in which the principles and practice of the law 
 might be studied under competent instructors ought no 
 longer to be delayed. Accordingly, in 1858, the Trus- 
 tees of Columbia College proceeded to organize a Law 
 School under the supervision and control of Professor 
 Theodore W. Dwight, of Hamilton College, who was 
 appointed Warden and Professor of Municipal Law. 
 Professors Francis Lieber and Charles M. Nairne were 
 associated with him, and in 1860, Dr. John Ordronaux 
 was appointed Professor of Medical Jurisprudence. Dur- 
 ing the first year of its existence, the exercises of the 
 school were held at the rooms of the Historical Society 
 in Eleventh Street, in order that they might be conven- 
 ient of access to students who were employed in lawyers' 
 offices, and in the ensuing year it was removed to Lafay- 
 ette Place, nearly opposite the Astor Library. From the 
 day of its opening, the Law School was successful ; and 
 the number of students increased from year to year, 
 beginning with 35, it had 63 in the second year, 103 in 
 the third, 117 in the fourth, 146 in the fifth, and in 1864, 
 when Dr. Barnard became President of the College, the 
 Law School had 171 students. 
 
 Encouraged by the success of the Law School, the 
 Trustees, early in 1863, gave serious attention to a plan 
 prepared by Mr. Thomas Egleston, Jr., for the establish- 
 ment of a School of Mines and Metallurgy. In 1864, the 
 plan was approved and adopted by the Board ; Mr. Egle- 
 ston was appointed Professor of Mineralogy and Metal- 
 lurgy; Brigadier-General Francis L. Vinton was appointed 
 Professor of Mining Engineering ; Charles F. Chandler, 
 Ph.D., was appointed Professor of Analytical and Ap- 
 plied Chemistry ; arrangements were made by which Pro- 
 fessors Joy, Peck, Van Amringe, and Rood, of the College 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 335 
 
 Faculty, were to give instruction in the school, and on 
 November 15, 1864, a few months after Dr. Barnard's 
 appointment as President, the School of Mines was 
 formally opened in rooms assigned to it in the College 
 buildings. 
 
 A note of the great struggle which was then in progress 
 appears in a record of the College under date of October 
 15, 1863, when Professor McCulloh was expelled from his 
 Professorship "for having abandoned his post and joined 
 the Rebels." 
 
 Early in the next year President King resigned his 
 office, and on May 18, 1864, the Rev. F. A. P. Barnard, 
 S.T.D., LL.D., was elected President of Columbia Col- 
 lege. Dr. Barnard entered upon his duties in the month 
 of June, and on the 3d of October following he delivered 
 his Inaugural Address in the College Chapel. 
 
 The careful reader of the foregoing brief and inade- 
 quate sketch will not fail to observe the gradual and 
 irregular but progressive development of the university 
 idea in an institution which was established as a simple 
 college of the English pattern. In one way and another 
 it seems from the first to have tended to an enlargement 
 of its scope. At the very delivery of the Charter of 
 King's College to the Board of Governors in 1755, the 
 endowment of a Professorship of Divinity was projected 
 and approved. In the following year, though the study 
 of natural science in English colleges had as yet made 
 little progress, the Trustees expended a considerable sum 
 of money in the purchase of instruments which were 
 required in that department. In 1764, Dr. Clossy was 
 appointed Professor of Natural Philosophy. Three years 
 later a Medical School was established, and the opening 
 of the New York Hospital not long afterwards through 
 the influence of the Faculty of Columbia provided the 
 
336 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 students of the Medical School with the clinical advan- 
 tages which are indispensable to an intelligent study of 
 therapeutics. This is a creditable record for an institu- 
 tion which had existed less than twenty years, and it 
 shows that from its first foundation King's College was 
 possessed, so to speak, with a genuine university instinct. 
 After its reorganization as Columbia College we find 
 the same instinctive outreaching towards the functions 
 of the University. In 1787, the Medical School was 
 reopened simultaneously with the College, and five years 
 later it was put under the charge of a Dean supported 
 by a Faculty of seven professors. In 1793, James Kent 
 was appointed as the first Professor of Law, and con- 
 tinued to lecture for five years, when the financial em- 
 barrassments of the Board constrained them to suspend 
 that part of their scheme. At the opening of the Col- 
 lege in 1787, natural history, chemistry, agriculture, and 
 botany were added to the former curriculum, and in 
 1798, when the Trustees were compelled by the lack of 
 means to contract their expenses to the lowest possible 
 amount, they still maintained the study of chemistry 
 and natural history as indispensable parts of the College 
 course. In 1810, though they were still in difficulties, 
 they were wise enough to raise the standard of admission 
 and graduation, and expressed the belief that they had 
 been enabled to lay " a broader and stronger foundation 
 for sound education" than had then been known else- 
 where in this country. On that foundation the rearing 
 of the structure has been conducted ever since. For 
 many years financial embarrassments impeded the prog- 
 ress of the Trustees in the development of their plans, 
 and later on the problem of the American College in 
 its curriculum and its government became so anxious 
 a care to all who were called to grapple with it as to 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 337 
 
 require them to proceed slowly in order that they might 
 proceed surely. But the former plans of progress were 
 never abandoned, and the experiments which were made 
 were all in the line of progress. In 1823, Mr. Kent was 
 reappointed Professor of Law, and it is to that appoint- 
 ment that the American bar owes Chancellor Kent's 
 famous Commentaries. From time to time valuable col- 
 lections were purchased to illustrate the studies in natural 
 science which the Trustees steadily encouraged. In 1830, 
 the introduction of a " double course " system, though it 
 was speedily abandoned, showed that the Trustees were 
 grappling with the new problem of adapting the modern 
 college to modern needs. The establishment of a chair 
 of German was one of the earliest practical recognitions 
 in this country that the modern languages must be taught 
 in modern schools. From 1853 to 1857 the Board was 
 occupied in making plans for a system of post-graduate 
 studies, including modifications of the undergraduate 
 course to that end. The effort failed, but only for the 
 time being ; and the Schools of Philosophy and Philol- 
 ogy, of Mathematics and Physical Science, and of Juris- 
 prudence and History, which were projected in those years 
 were prophetic rather than premature. By the establish- 
 ment of the Law School under Professor Dwight in 1858, 
 another Faculty was permanently added to the Faculties 
 of Arts and Medicine. In 1863, the suggestion of found- 
 ing a Polytechnicum under the name of a School of Mines 
 was favorably received, and in the following year the 
 preliminary steps to its organization were taken. 
 
 Such was the institution to the chief charge of which 
 Dr. Barnard was called : conservative, without rigidity ; 
 progressive, without rashness ; reverent to the learning of 
 the past, yet open-minded to the necessities of the present. 
 Columbia College had been moving more or less steadily 
 
338 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 towards the functions and dimensions of an university for 
 more than a hundred years ; and with its School of Arts, 
 its School of Law, and its School of Medicine already in 
 existence, and its School of Mines hopefully projected, it 
 might without arrogance have assumed the name of an 
 university. It was wiser not to take that name then. A 
 period of growth and natural development was still re- 
 quired, and it was the high privilege of Dr. Barnard to 
 assume the chief charge of Columbia at the opening of 
 that critical period. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 339 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 Dr. Barnard as President of Columbia College His efforts in behalf of 
 the School of Mines His Inaugural Address on the relation of physi- 
 cal science to revealed religion Denies a conflict between science 
 and religion Opposition of religious men to science Its cause, its 
 folly, and its danger Reasons for harmony between them The light 
 of science is a light of revelation Contrast between science and philo- 
 sophical speculation Miracle Superstition The Bible not a book 
 of science Reasons why it could not be so Evolution Theory and 
 demonstration Representatives of religion ought to study science, and 
 scientific men ought to study religion. 
 
 WHEN Dr. Barnard was called to the Presidency of 
 Columbia College, he was fifty-five years of age ; his dis- 
 tinction as an educator and a man of science was univer- 
 sally acknowledged ; his physical and intellectual faculties 
 were at their best ; and he brought to the service of 
 Columbia a breadth and maturity of judgment which 
 could only be attained by original thought and a large 
 and varied experience. The position was worthy of the 
 man, for Columbia College was an historical institution 
 which had encountered the difficulties, and had striven, 
 not unsuccessfully, to grapple with the problems con- 
 nected with the development of academic education in 
 America. Though a college in name, its Trustees had 
 ever sought to realize the character and to fulfil the func- 
 tions of an university ; but they had not wholly escaped 
 the dangers which attended this laudable endeavor. A 
 simple college, as Dr. Barnard had always strenuously 
 maintained, cannot fulfil the functions of an university. 
 A college is intended primarily and supremely to train 
 the mind ; it is the part of an university to furnish 
 
340 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 trained minds with special schools of professional and 
 scientific knowledge. To crowd a course of professional 
 or scientific study into the brief curriculum of a college 
 cannot but fail of its purpose, since it obscures the single 
 object of mental discipline which is the purpose of the 
 college, while, in the nature of things, it can give nothing 
 more than a smattering of the sciences which it labors to 
 impart. At the time of Dr. Barnard's accession to the 
 Presidency, the College course had been well adapted to 
 its proper purpose, and the Trustees had made good prog- 
 ress towards the establishment of separate professional 
 and scientific schools. It has already been recorded that 
 a Medical School was established as early as 1767, and al- 
 though it was subsequently united with the College of 
 Physicians and Surgeons, it still retained its connection 
 with Columbia. It has also been mentioned that a Pro- 
 fessorship of Law was established in 1793, and was con- 
 tinued at intervals for many years; that Chancellor 
 Kent's great Commentaries were expanded from lectures 
 which he delivered as a Professor of the College in 1823 ; 
 and that in 1858 a Law School had been organized under 
 Professor Theodore W. Dwight as Warden. In the year 
 preceding Dr. Barnard's election, a School of Mines had 
 been projected, which was expected and intended to be 
 begun, though in a very modest way, in the following 
 year. Thus, omitting the Medical School, the educational 
 institutions of Columbia in 1864 were the College proper, 
 with 150 students, and a Faculty of ten full Professors, 
 one Adjunct Professor, and one Tutor ; a School of Law, 
 with 158 students, under a Faculty of four Professors; 
 and the School of Mines, which, at its beginning under 
 Dr. Barnard's Presidency, had 29 students, with three 
 Professors, five Lecturers, and one Assistant. In a broad 
 and general way, the organization of Columbia College, 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 341 
 
 at the time of Dr. Barnard's election, was fairly repre- 
 sentative, though only, of course, in a small way, of 
 his ideal. In the College proper there was little to be 
 changed, and the special schools required only to be wisely 
 developed and prudently increased in number to fulfil 
 the functions and realize the ideal of a true university, 
 that is, a Universitas Omnium Scientiarum. 
 
 From the first, Dr. Barnard saw his opportunity in the 
 projected School of Mines. The plans for its inaugura- 
 tion which had been formed before his election were not 
 only tentative but timid. If they should miscarry, an 
 irreparable damage would be done to the development of 
 the university idea ; but he was convinced that the orig- 
 inal plan could not in the nature of things be successful, 
 and he at once addressed himself, with characteristic 
 energy, to secure for the infant institution a reasonable 
 chance of life. The following memorandum which has 
 been found among his papers will be interesting in this 
 connection : 
 
 The subject which, in entering upon his office, occupied first 
 and principally the attention of the new President, was the 
 organization of a school to be associated with the College on 
 the general plan of the Ecole des Mines in Paris, to be called 
 the Columbia School of Mines. A proposition of this nature 
 had been laid before the Trustees during the previous year by 
 Mr. Thomas Egleston, a graduate of the Paris school, and had 
 been favorably received; but no steps had yet been taken to 
 put it into operation. The Trustees had approved the plan, 
 but had declined to undertake any pecuniary responsibility 
 on account of it; the friends of the measure proposing to 
 establish it upon a fund to be raised by subscription. A 
 committee of Trustees had been appointed to supervise the 
 affairs of the school, all the members of which had pledged 
 themselves not to ask from the Board any appropriations on 
 account of it. It was a work demanding no great expenditure 
 
342 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of time to lay out the plan of instruction to be pursued in the 
 school ; but it was an undertaking more difficult than had been 
 anticipated to provide for the support of the teachers. So 
 sanguine of success, however, were the parties interested in it, 
 that they would not allow the realization of their project to be 
 retarded by any merely mercenary consideration, and accord- 
 ingly the school was opened with a haste somewhat reckless of 
 consequences in November, 1864, before an adequate provision 
 had been made for defraying even its ordinary running ex- 
 penses. The natural consequence followed, that in less than 
 three months a serious debt had been incurred, which there 
 was no means of defraying. The President, who had been 
 made, after his election, a member of the committee, proposed 
 in this emergency an appeal to the Board of Trustees, but he 
 was met by the statement, till then unknown to him, that the 
 committee were all pledged not to go to the Trustees for 
 money under any circumstances. His reply to this objection 
 was, " Gentlemen, I was not appointed to this committee under 
 any such conditions. If you will not go to the Trustees, I 
 will do so alone. This school meets a public want. It ought 
 to be sustained, but if the Trustees do not sustain it, it must 
 fail. If, when they understand the facts, they refuse to sus- 
 tain it, it will be time to shut the doors ; but before we do that, 
 I am determined that it shall not perish for lack of an effort." 
 At the next meeting of the Trustees, accordingly, the President 
 laid the facts before them, and made an earnest appeal for 
 help. This was something so unexpected that the Board were 
 taken by surprise, and were at first rather indisposed to listen 
 to the appeal. The decision was adjourned to a later day, but 
 at length a resolution was adopted to pay the outstanding 
 indebtedness of the school and to guarantee its maintenance 
 for the current and next succeeding year, and to leave the 
 question of future measures to be determined by the success or 
 failure of the school as an educational experiment. At the 
 expiration of the time thus limited, the school had taken 
 so strong a hold of the popular favor, that no question was 
 ever raised as to the advisability of its perpetuation or discon- 
 tinuance, and it has since been regarded as an established 
 branch of the University system. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 343 
 
 Before this first and most fortunate exercise of his 
 personal and official influence, and indeed before he 
 entered upon the active work of his office, President 
 Barnard had the address to secure an intelligent and 
 powerful support for his administration. On former 
 occasions he had shown great skill in attracting public 
 attention and in gaining public confidence. By opportune 
 publications in Alabama he had so won the esteem of 
 great societies that, when he afterwards found it neces- 
 sary to engage in a controversy on " College Education," 
 with particular reference to the University of Alabama, 
 he was able to maintain his cause in the face of formida- 
 ble opposition. In Mississippi, when he proposed his 
 University scheme, he chose to address the Board of 
 Trustees, indeed, but in such a way as first to reach the 
 people of the State, and so to bring a powerful popular 
 influence to bear at once upon the Board by which his 
 project must be approved, and upon the Legislature by 
 which the means to accomplish it must be appropriated. 
 At the present juncture he was perfectly aware that his 
 political publications had had much to do with his 
 election to Columbia ; but he also knew that in the work 
 on which he was entering, his claim to public confidence 
 must have a stronger and more permanent foundation 
 than that of political or even patriotic sympathy. He 
 therefore resolved to address himself to the discussion 
 of a subject of permanent and vital interest on which 
 contradictory and apparently irreconcilable opinions were 
 earnestly maintained, and so to treat it as to gain the 
 confidence and assure himself of the support of both 
 sides. The occasion lay before him in the ceremonies 
 of his inauguration ; the topic was suggested by the 
 establishment of a scientific school in connection with the 
 College. At that time men had begun to talk rather 
 
344 MEMOIES OP 
 
 loudly of "the conflict between science and religion." 
 On this side of the Atlantic, political excitement and the 
 anxieties of the war had withdrawn the thoughts of men 
 from speculative studies, but from abroad there came the 
 echoes of an eager controversy on the evolutionary hypoth- 
 esis, and students at home were already engaging in the 
 dispute. Devout Christians passionately denounced the 
 daring speculations of science as blasphemous denials of 
 revealed religion, and men of science were only too ready, 
 on their part, to accept the admission that, if what they 
 deemed to be ascertained scientific facts were true, the 
 Christian religion must be false. In Europe the lines of 
 battle were clearly drawn ; in America it was still possible 
 to avert an open conflict between parties who ought never 
 to have been opposed, since they were alike engaged in 
 the search for truth in their several domains. No man 
 was better qualified to intervene in an endeavor to avert so 
 fruitless and needless a contention than President Barnard, 
 whose devotion to science was everywhere known, and of 
 whose sincere belief of the Christian religion there could 
 be no question ; and he sagaciously selected as the subject 
 of his Inaugural Address " The Relation of Physical Sci- 
 ence to Revealed Religion." 
 
 The views which were presented in this address were 
 by no means novel ; but although they had a certain 
 freshness then which they have not now, it may be well 
 to give an outline of them, in order to show the great 
 skill with which the speaker treated his subject. In an 
 address from the Alumni which was made to him at the 
 time of his inauguration, the following sentence occurred : 
 " You will justly appreciate the claims of modern knowl- 
 edge ; but you will not let it be believed that she has come 
 with any mission to contest, much less to curtail, our una- 
 bridged Inheritance of Faith." In reply Dr. Barnard said : 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 345 
 
 I think I do not misinterpret you when I presume that your 
 words have been chosen with reference to the imaginary con- 
 flict asserted by some to exist between the teachings of the 
 sacred oracles of our religion and certain of the conclusions 
 of modern scientific research. I do not recognize such a con- 
 flict, nor admit its possibility. All true science is to me but a 
 form of revelation from the one great Author of all truth. 
 I cannot conceive that He in whom there is no variableness 
 nor shadow of turning will ever be found to contradict 
 in His works the declarations which He has made in His 
 written Word. And whatever may be the amount or the 
 seeming value of that truth which has rewarded, by its dis- 
 covery, the faithful labor of modern scientific investigators, 
 or whatever the grandeur of the multiplied achievements of 
 human intellect in every department of inquiry, I esteem all 
 these things combined as lighter than vanity, unless accompa- 
 nied by that better and higher and purer knowledge which 
 lifts men above the material world in which they dwell, and 
 makes them wise unto salvation. 
 
 Having thus in a preliminary way briefly stated his 
 own position, he proceeded to his inaugural discourse. 
 He declared himself to be unequivocally devoted to that 
 view of college education which regards it as primarily 
 intended to furnish a system of mental culture. He 
 insisted that the system of education pursued in colleges 
 like Columbia was admirably adapted to prepare the 
 minds of students for any pursuit or position to which 
 they might afterwards be called, and he proclaimed 
 his opposition to the dangerous assaults and the blindly 
 destructive spirit which were seeking to sacrifice it to 
 visionary schemes of higher utility. After this brief 
 statement of his educational faith, he next expressed his 
 full sympathy with the purpose of the Trustees of Colum- 
 bia to extend the field of instruction occupied by the insti- 
 tution. Their design, he admitted, could not at once be 
 carried out in all its completeness. It must begin with 
 
346 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 certain determinate branches of knowledge which would be 
 suggested by the actual demand of the community, and at 
 the present time he thought that the beginning ought 
 to be made by supplying a School of the Physical Sciences 
 as applied to the arts. The plan of such a school, under 
 the name of a School of Mines, had been already adopted, 
 and, if successful, it would be a nucleus around which 
 others might cluster. The establishment of a School of 
 Physical Sciences in connection with a college of the 
 older learning naturally suggested the theme of his dis- 
 course. 
 
 While my life [he said] has been principally devoted to 
 the cause of education in general, it is known, I believe, that 
 my own special pursuits have been connected with the science 
 of nature. I love that study both because it is beautiful in 
 itself and because its influence upon the mind and upon the 
 character seems to ine to be eminently salutary. I believe 
 that there is no study of which the legitimate tendencies are 
 more distinctly to foster in man the spirit of humility, or to 
 awaken within him feelings of profound reverence toward 
 God. I believe, indeed, that in spreading out His wonderful 
 works before us, and clothing them with so many attractions, 
 it has been the manifest purpose of the Creator to make them 
 the means of drawing men to Himself. And I believe that 
 the religious sentiment thus naturally inspired is one which 
 disposes the soul to receive with delight and gratitude those 
 more distinct announcements of Himself and of His purpose 
 toward men, which He has made in His written Word. 
 
 It was nevertheless true, he continued, that modern 
 physical science had been resisted from its earliest begin- 
 nings by jealous suspicion and active opposition from 
 the guardians of religion. This was not so strange as 
 it appeared ; for before the adoption of the inductive 
 method of scientific inquiry, there was already in exist- 
 ence a species of natural science which rested chiefly 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 347 
 
 upon hypothesis, but which was supposed to be founded 
 upon the authority of Holy Scripture. Many beliefs of 
 a purely scientific character were supposed to be founded 
 on revelation and were held as dogmas of religion, so 
 that any different doctrine must be denounced without 
 inquiry as heretical. Thus, in its very birth, modern 
 science was confronted with a formidable opposition from 
 the religious world, and although the philosophy of the 
 Middle Ages had been long exploded, the breach between 
 science and religion which had its beginning then, had 
 never been entirely healed. Nature still continued to be 
 studied in the Bible by the light of philology ; and the 
 results of biblical study were made the touchstone of con- 
 clusions drawn from careful and experimental studies of 
 nature itself. This process, Dr. Barnard maintained, ought 
 to be inverted ; science should be used as a torch by which 
 to read the Scriptures, or, at least, as a clue to their 
 interpretation. Unfortunately, this view of the case 
 had been received thus far with very limited favor by 
 teachers of religion ; and thus from ancient controversies 
 which had perished from the memories of men, another 
 and more recent cause of dispute had sprung into life. 
 The discouragement of scientific research by the prejudice 
 of a powerful but ill-informed public opinion had had 
 injurious consequences to the progress of science ; but in 
 the end, it could not fail, if continued, to be equally 
 injurious to the cause of religion. It was not possible 
 that scientific research should cease, nor that scientific 
 men should forego convictions which were founded upon 
 complete inductive evidence. If religion disclaimed 
 those convictions, men of science would be driven to 
 disclaim religion, and thus, without any choice of their 
 own, the whole weight of their great authority would be 
 marshalled in opposition to the truth of the Bible. 
 
348 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 This was a controversy which men of science had not 
 invited and did not provoke. 
 
 It is the mistaken friends of religion themselves who insist 
 on occupying the perilous position, that, if modern science be 
 true, the Bible must be false. It is they who deride and ridi- 
 cule schemes of interpretation honestly suggested with a view 
 to reconcile the language of sacred writ with the teachings of 
 nature ; and who, with singular lack of wisdom, maintain that 
 no such reconcilement is possible. They will not recognize the 
 fact that, in planting themselves upon this ground, they are 
 doing more to subvert religion and bring the Bible into dis- 
 credit among men than all the speculative atheists like Spinoza, 
 and all the ingeniously logical sceptics like Hume, and all 
 the malignant scoffers like Voltaire, combined, have ever been 
 able to accomplish. In spite of the most determined efforts 
 on the part of these several classes of enemies, the Bible still 
 holds its place in human reverence; but let it be once dis- 
 tinctly settled, as the final and unalterable decision of the re- 
 ligious world, that that volume makes it our religious duty to 
 disbelieve and reject the perfectly demonstrable truths disclosed 
 to us by such a science, for example, as geology, and it needs 
 no extraordinary prescience to perceive that, before another 
 generation shall have passed away, its authority will be utterly 
 destroyed. It has astonished me that there should be so many 
 good men who do not see this danger. It has astonished me 
 still more that there should be so many who do see it very 
 clearly, and yet imagine that it may be averted by putting a 
 ban upon science and endeavoring to suppress its cultiva- 
 tion. Such efforts are, in the very nature of things, futile. 
 Truth cannot be frowned out of existence, nor is there any 
 weight of human authority heavy enough to keep it down. 
 On the other hand, error, in the field of physical inquiry, 
 needs neither persecution nor denunciation to disarm it of its 
 power to harm; it has only to be let alone, and it will inevi- 
 tably die of itself. 
 
 Having thus shown the danger to religion which would 
 be involved in a fruitless antagonism with science, Dr. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BAENAED 349 
 
 Barnard next proceeded to set forth reasons why there 
 should be peace. He urged that there is nothing in the 
 ends which science has in view which ought to alarm the 
 most devout believer in revelation, for the only object of 
 science is the ascertainment of truth ; in the pursuit of 
 truth, science rightly disregards all previous opinions. 
 Many beliefs which were once universal had no other 
 foundation than ignorance or superstition ; and so experi- 
 ence has justified the investigator of nature in refusing to 
 be biassed by opinions which may have no better founda- 
 tion. The researches of science are confined to the physi- 
 cal world, and although, even there, her range is limited by 
 the range of human observation and by the imperfect 
 power of the human understanding, yet within those limits 
 her methods are sure. When she has reached results that 
 are verified by observation, those results are unquestion- 
 able. For teachers of religion to deny or to denounce 
 them is simply idle ; and it is as foolish as it is idle, for 
 the scientific spirit which prompts men to an investigation 
 of nature, springs from that desire to know, and that ca- 
 pacity to enjoy knowledge, which have been implanted in 
 man by his Creator. Scientific research is therefore in 
 accordance with God's will ; to resist it is to resist God's 
 will ; and to refuse to accept the truth which God reveals 
 to inquiries which He himself had prompted and ordained, 
 is to refuse a true light of divine revelation. A religious 
 man ought to welcome every light of revelation, and since 
 truth is never inconsistent with itself, there ought to be 
 no fear of loss of truth from the discovery of new truth. 
 No truth of science either is or ever can be inconsistent 
 with any truth of religion ; in fact, religion and science 
 must both alike ultimately rest upon a basis of reason. If 
 the conclusions which science claims to have fully estab- 
 lished are not to be relied on, then nothing in the whole 
 
350 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 circle of human knowledge is certain ; and on the other 
 hand, 
 
 the fact of revelation itself is ascertained to us by evidence 
 offered to the reason. It is a fact purely historical, to be ex- 
 amined precisely as other historical facts are examined. If we 
 are competent to judge of its credibility, if we are even justi- 
 fied in asserting that we know its truth, then certainly we may 
 reasonably claim that we are capable of tracing effects in the 
 material world to their physical causes, more especially when, 
 in our personal experience, we have been familiar with the 
 operation of those causes all our lives. 
 
 But these physical causes, these powers of nature, as they 
 are called, what are they ? If we suppose that they exist with- 
 out God, that they operate by any inherent energy of their 
 own, we are pantheists, we have no need of God at all, our 
 only God is nature. But if, on the other hand, we suppose 
 that they are only modes through which God sees fit to mani- 
 fest His own energy, the truths to which we are led by their 
 attentive study are nothing less than revelations. They de- 
 mand our acceptance not merely upon the authority of imper- 
 fect human reason, but as being directly vouched for by God 
 Himself. The distinction commonly made between nature and 
 revelation, therefore, as means through which we may be per- 
 mitted to know God, is in this view unimportant, perhaps prej- 
 udicial to the interests of true religion. It is, at any rate, a 
 distinction of form merely, and not of essence. To the prophet 
 God speaks through His Spirit, to the philosopher through His 
 works : in either case the truth of the communication rests 
 upon the same guaranty. 
 
 Whatever conflict there had been between science and 
 religion had been manifestly founded upon misappre- 
 hensions on the religious side. So far as the scientific 
 world must be held responsible for it, the responsibility, 
 generally speaking, must be laid upon sciolists rather than 
 upon men of acknowledged eminence. It is true that dis- 
 tinguished students of nature, and even original discover- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 351 
 
 ers, have been sceptics in religion, but not more frequently 
 than any other class of men of equal mark, and Dr. Bar- 
 nard proclaimed his solemn conviction that the tendency 
 is strongly in the opposite direction. 
 
 I believe [he said] that the study of nature tends positively 
 to foster the spirit of humility, of self-abasement, of rev- 
 erence, of devotion. I believe, indeed, that it is the only study, 
 except that of the Bible itself, that does so. With the study of 
 language or of abstract mathematics it cauuot iu this respect 
 be compared, for iu regard to the sentiments just spoken of, 
 their influence is indifferent. But with abstract philosophy, or 
 even with that theology which affects philosophy, the compari- 
 son is easy; for the world is full of instructive examples. 
 Philosophy, I suppose, is as far from physical science as it is 
 possible to be. Philosophy and physics are each other's antip- 
 odes, the two poles of their intellectual sphere. . . . These 
 two subjects, philosophy and the physical sciences, are the two 
 and we may almost say the only two, which stimulate the curi- 
 osity of men to know the causes of things, which lift men's 
 thoughts to the First Great Cause of all things. The first of 
 these, rising on presumptuous wings into the limitless region of 
 the transcendental, boldly essays to bring God Himself within 
 the grasp of the finite intellect ; but baffled in the vain endeavor, 
 ends usually in blotting Him out of existence, or confounding 
 Him with His works. The other, bowing before the august ma- 
 jesty which it dares not attempt to conceive, seeks, in a lowly 
 and teachable spirit, to comprehend some little fragments of 
 these lower works themselves, and shrinking from the arrogance 
 which would demand what God is, limits itself to the humble 
 and reverential inquiry, "What hath God wrought?" The 
 very statement of the case is sufficient to show the relative 
 tendencies of these studies. Philosophy may no doubt be pur- 
 sued in a Christian spirit ; but it has had, in point of fact, too 
 often the fatal effect to undermine, subvert, and destroy in its 
 devotees all belief in the personality of God, and so to obliter- 
 ate every sentiment of fear or reverence for Him in the human 
 heart. Physics, on the other hand, by constantly presenting 
 new and ever-varying examples of power and forethought and 
 
352 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 design in the adaptation of means to ends, fosters and cherishes 
 into ever-increasing strength the conviction that God is, that 
 God reigns, that He works perpetually before us now, that by 
 Him all things were made, and without Him was nothing made 
 that was made. Now what if there has been here and there a 
 physicist who disowned revelation ? How many, unfortunately, 
 are there who are not physicists nor philosophers who have 
 done the same ! This latter fact proves that men may be per- 
 verse without any obvious perverting influence; the former 
 that they may be so in spite of influences positively salutary. 
 
 Assuming now that there is nothing in the discovery 
 of truth, which is the only object of science, to disquiet 
 any sincere believer in the truth of revelation, Dr. Barnard 
 next maintained that the same remark might be extended 
 to the results to which scientific investigation leads. The 
 supreme merit of science is that it leads to the recognition 
 of law. Through all the domain of physical research, the 
 discovery of law had been the student's reward, so that 
 it is now accepted as an axiom in physics that law is every- 
 where present, and "law in nature is one of the most 
 conclusive evidences of the presence and power of God." 
 " Law in nature is neither more nor less than God in 
 nature ; and natural phenomena are the direct manifesta- 
 tion of divine power." 
 
 The recognition of law in nature is not destructive of 
 belief in miracle to the mind of any man who believes in 
 God. 
 
 I know that it is often said that this idea of the invariability 
 and universality of law tends to bring into discredit those 
 narratives of events in which law has been manifestly sus- 
 pended. This is another of the grounds on which science and 
 the Bible have been brought into conflict. But in the view just 
 taken of law, the reproach thus brought against science is with- 
 out any substantial foundation. For if law is but the mani- 
 festation of God's power, the suspension of law is just as much 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 353 
 
 so. There is, however, undoubtedly, a speculative theology 
 which teaches a doctrine widely different from this : which 
 beholds in law an energy irresistible, inexorable, unalterable ; 
 which makes, that is to say, law itself God. This, at least if 
 I understand it, is essentially and ultimately the meaning of 
 pantheism. If such be the view which we take of the divine 
 nature, miraculous occurrences are, I admit, quite impossible ; 
 for the God of pantheism is without personality, without con- 
 sciousness, without will. But it must be remembered that 
 pantheism is born not of Physics, but of Metaphysics ; that it 
 is radically at variance with the religion of the Scriptures ; 
 and that, after we have consented to receive its more general 
 teachings, the particular point here in question loses whatever 
 importance or interest it might previously have possessed. 
 To the Christian, however, or even to the Deist who admits 
 that God is anything more than an impersonal figment, the 
 universality of law in nature must bring a grateful confirma- 
 tion to his faith. 
 
 Dr. Barnard next observed that while science is favor- 
 able to sound religion, it is destructive of idle superstitions 
 by which religion is marred. For science is an intelligent 
 acquaintance with the causes of things, and while those 
 causes are not known, a phenomenon which is not under- 
 stood is apt to be attributed to causes above nature. 
 Incidents of which the causes are obscure or unperceived 
 are ascribed to agencies and influences which are supposed 
 to control events and affect human happiness, and which 
 are supposed to be at the same time intelligent or malign. 
 Particular times are set down as lucky or unlucky ; par- 
 ticular places are supposed to be haunted ; particular 
 acts or utterances are supposed to exert a mysterious 
 power ; occult virtues are ascribed to amulets and charms ; 
 all the extravagances of sorcery, magic, and witchcraft are 
 devoutly believed ; and in an unscientific age, that is to 
 say, in an age of ignorance, the study of the Bible alone 
 does not dispel those idle imaginations nor redeem men 
 
 2A 
 
354 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 from the dominion of superstitious fears. As Milman 
 has said, 
 
 Christianity may exist in a certain form in a nation of savages, 
 as well as in a nation of philosophers ; yet its specific character 
 will almost entirely depend upon the character of the people 
 who are its votaries. It must be considered, therefore, in 
 constant connection with that character ; it will darken with 
 the darkness and brighten with the light of each succeeding 
 century ; in an uncongenial time it will recede so far from its 
 essential nature as scarcely to retain any sign of its divine 
 original ; it will advance with the advancement of human 
 nature, and keep up the moral to the height of the intellectual 
 culture of man. 
 
 Milman here ascribes the emancipation of mankind from 
 the slavery of superstition to the progress of intellectual 
 enlightenment in general; but history gives abundant evi- 
 dence that mere learning does not accomplish that result. 
 
 The age which, in England, produced a Milton, a Bacon, a 
 Dryden, and a Pope, was certainly not an age deficient in 
 literary culture of the highest order. Yet the legislation of 
 that age and its judicial history are deeply tinged with the 
 errors I have signalized ; and it surely cannot be said of these 
 that they received their character from the men the least en- 
 lightened of their time. In this country the extravagances 
 of the Salem persecution were encouraged, if not originally 
 instigated, by the educated clergy, including among their 
 number the president of the only seminary of higher learning 
 then existing on the continent. The fault of the education of 
 that time was its neglect of the study of the phenomena of 
 nature. Physical science had indeed made some progress, but 
 it had attained to no diffusion beyond the narrow circle of its 
 immediate votaries. Scientific men were generally learned, 
 but there were very few learned men who were scientific. 
 
 It is to science, then, in the sense of physical science, and 
 not to the learning of the schools of philosophy, that we 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 355 
 
 owe our deliverance from many superstitions, and since 
 superstition is essentially hostile to true religion, the ser- 
 vice of science to religion has already been enormous. 
 But that is not all. 
 
 I need not argue that the Christianity which, according to 
 Milman, may exist among a nation of savages, and the Christi- 
 anity which sheds its benign influence over the civilization of 
 our own continent to-day, cannot be both of them equally the 
 Christianity of the New Testament. The spirit and the power 
 of Christianity manifest themselves in doing good, in pity 
 toward the erring, in the unremitting endeavor to soften for all 
 men the inevitable miseries of this lower life. But the spirit 
 which is fanned by superstition makes of religion a terror 
 rather than a blessing. It divests Christianity of those feat- 
 ures of mildness and benignity by which it is adapted to the 
 wants of our weak and imperfect nature, and converts it into 
 a source of perpetual anxiety and apprehension. Consider, for 
 example, the asceticism which came in with the corruption of 
 Christianity, and which has not even yet entirely disappeared, 
 the gloomy isolation to which it led numbers to subject them- 
 selves, and the extraordinary forms of self-torture to which it 
 impelled them to submit, and say in what respect these things 
 are less melancholy subjects of contemplation than the more 
 recent suttee of India, the exposure of infants on the Ganges, 
 or the self-immolation of frenzied fanatics beneath the wheels 
 of Juggernaut. If the philosophic study of nature has con- 
 tributed in any degree, as I believe it has greatly, to disen- 
 thrall the human imagination from that slavery to error in 
 religious beliefs which has so painfully in every age embit- 
 tered human life, it has rendered an inappreciable service at 
 the same time to the cause of enlightened Christianity. 
 
 Dr. Barnard next addressed himself briefly but power- 
 fully to the actual present relations of physical science to 
 revealed religion. It may be asked (he said) what we 
 have to say of such startling speculations as the nebular 
 hypothesis in astronomy, the teaching of geology in regard 
 
356 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 to the age of our planet, the asserted discoveries relating 
 to the antiquity of man, the doctrine of progressive devel- 
 opment and other similar matters in which science is in 
 direct conflict with impressions which are generally sup- 
 posed to be legitimately derived from Bible history. To 
 these questions he did not attempt to make a detailed 
 reply ; but only to state the general principles on which 
 a reply might be made. 
 
 First, that the Bible is not a book of science, and that 
 to expect it to contain an accurate scientific view of the 
 universe would be nothing less than absurd. The argu- 
 ment on this point was exceedingly cogent. 
 
 To have given professedly a philosophic exposition of the 
 principles of natural things [said Dr. Barnard] would have been 
 inconsistent with the objects for which the Bible itself was 
 given. Such an exposition must either have presented truth 
 as it will be when (should that ever happen) the process of 
 discovery is exhausted truth, therefore, which would in 
 many points conflict with our present convictions, and which 
 must always have been in conflict with the convictions of the 
 ages which have gone before us ; or it must have embodied the 
 imperfect, and, in most things, erroneous philosophy of its own 
 day, and so have been brought into permanent discredit by the 
 earliest steps of advancement. On either supposition, it would 
 have been out of harmony with the actual state of scientific 
 opinion at any given period, and would have lost, or have 
 failed from the beginning to secure, the confidence of men in 
 its divine origin. In the fact, therefore, that the science of 
 nature is, to beings of limited powers, like the human race, a 
 science of necessary progress, in which truths which seem to 
 be most assuredly established are ever liable to be superseded 
 by profounder truths, we find a satisfactory reason why we 
 might expect it to be excluded from a revelation relating only 
 to the interests of man's nature. 
 
 In the second place, without undertaking to deny that the 
 conclusions gathered from the study of the book of nature may 
 sometimes seem at variance with impressions derived from the 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 357 
 
 pages of the Bible, it must be remembered that these impres- 
 sions are themselves liable to be determined by the precon- 
 ceived notions of the reader, and that they are not of necessity 
 the only interpretations which the language will bear. On the 
 occurrence of any such apparent disagreement, the proper and 
 reasonable course is to use discovery as an aid to interpreta- 
 tion ; and not to insist, as is so often and so unwisely done, 
 that the discordance is irreconcilable. 
 
 In the third place, avoiding the use of the word "evolu- 
 tion," Dr. Barnard endeavored to quiet Christian appre- 
 hensions by stating that the evolutionary theory was still 
 a mere hypothesis. This part of his argument was less 
 satisfactory than the rest, for the mathematical defini- 
 tion of parallel straight lines implies an hypothesis which 
 can never be verified and which is possibly untrue ; the 
 existence of the ether is likewise a mere hypothesis which, 
 though of the highest probability, has never yet been 
 verified ; and indeed, the existence of matter, which no 
 man doubts, is nothing more than an unverifiable hypothe- 
 sis from which no man can practically escape. Conse- 
 quently, since an hypothesis may be held with a certitude 
 hardly less than that of knowledge, it could not have been 
 fully satisfactory to Dr. Barnard's own mind to reduce 
 the evolutionary theory to the rank of an hypothesis ; 
 yet it was doubtless soothing to the minds of some of his 
 hearers to be told that the truth of the doctrine which they 
 dreaded was incapable of demonstration ; and to his own 
 mind, as well as others, it was equally satisfactory to know 
 that nothing which is true can be dangerous, and that 
 the evolutionary theory could obtain no permanent place 
 in science unless it should attain to the certainty of truth. 
 His brief remarks on this great subject were as follows : 
 
 Another observation may here be fitly made. Of the more 
 recent theories which, in their discussion, have excited among 
 
358 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 the friends of religion the greatest uneasiness, it can hardly 
 be said of one that it is an accepted theory of science. The 
 speculators who show the least respect for the religious con- 
 victions of men are often quite as regardless of the ordinary 
 principles of common sense. Take, for example, the doctrine 
 of progressive development. It is only the ingenuity dis- 
 played by its advocates which has secured for it more than 
 a momentary attention. The strength of the scientific world 
 has always been enlisted against it. Though repeatedly re- 
 vived, it has been just as often trodden out of life. And so 
 it must be with all mere hypothesis. Nothing can claim a 
 permanent place in science which fails to attain the certainty 
 of truth. And nothing which is true can be dangerous. 
 
 Dr. Barnard urged that two things were needed in 
 order that the scientific and the religious world might 
 be led to lay aside their mutual distrust and work har- 
 moniously in the cause of truth, which is the cause of 
 both. It was necessary that religious men should study 
 science and refrain from pronouncing upon its tendencies 
 until they understood it. If they did so, they might 
 discover that the conclusions of science are not irrecon- 
 cilable with the language of the Bible when rightly 
 interpreted; they would learn the danger of assuming 
 that demonstrable truths of science are in conflict with 
 the Word of God; and they would learn the indispen- 
 sable necessity of reading Scripture by the light of 
 science, instead of attempting to control the conclusions 
 of science by an exegesis which may be full of possi- 
 bilities of error. Even if they should be unconvinced, 
 and if they should feel themselves obliged still to oppose 
 scientific conclusions, they would at least be able to dis- 
 cuss the subject with intelligence, and they would be 
 less liable to fall into the fatal error of attempting, with 
 incredible labor, to disprove facts rather than to invali- 
 date inferences. In Dr. Barnard's opinion, there was 
 
FKEDEKICK A. P. BABNAKD 359 
 
 no more urgent need of the time than that pious men 
 and earnest Christians should be also cultivators of scien- 
 tific study. By becoming such, they might purify science 
 from the reproach of irreligion which they were accus- 
 tomed to bring against it ; and if there was a semblance 
 of justice in that reproach, he asked to what it could be 
 owing but to the fact that the field of science had been 
 voluntarily abandoned by religious men. The wonder, 
 to his mind, was that in some departments of science 
 there should be any religion left. After geology had 
 been put under the ban of modern Christianity almost 
 as resolutely as astronomy in the Middle Ages, it might 
 be supposed that a devout Christian geologist would be 
 impossible ; and yet such examples as those of Hugh 
 Miller, Adam Sedgwick, Edward Hitchcock, Benjamin 
 Silliman, and many others, had proved that a firm belief 
 in the facts of geology is in no way inconsistent with 
 fervent piety or with Christian conviction. 
 
 It is men like these who are qualified to pronounce upon 
 the tendencies of the sciences which they cultivate; and if 
 they find in them nothing to disturb their Christian faith, 
 how can we doubt that other men equally pious, whom the 
 course of science seems to fill with continual anxiety, would 
 attain a similar tranquillity if they would consent to be better 
 informed. In short, the true position, the strong position, the 
 only impregnable position against the assaults of sceptical 
 physicists, is in the field occupied by the assailants them- 
 selves. 
 
 On the other hand, Dr. Barnard observed that a cer- 
 tain spirit was prevalent among scientific men which 
 ought to be corrected. 
 
 If they have sometimes been held up to undeserved oppro- 
 brium, they have repaid the injury with too manifest con- 
 tempt j and if their best-established conclusions have not been 
 
360 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 respected, they have possibly maintained too positive a tone 
 in regard to those whose claims to respect were more question- 
 able. While the object of science is truth, there is much in 
 the scientific teaching of any given period of which the proof 
 is only a high degree of probability. Every such portion of 
 doctrine holds its place only provisionally, and is liable to be 
 displaced or subverted by a truth more assured. Now, just 
 in proportion to the obstinacy with which the highest evidence 
 is resisted, a disposition seems to manifest itself to insist 
 unwarrantably on positions sustained by feebler evidence, 
 and the controversialist who assumes to speak in the name 
 of science displays a spirit of self-satisfied superiority, and 
 indulges a tone of confident assertion, which confirms opposi- 
 tion instead of conciliating favor. 
 
 The conclusion of the whole matter was this : 
 
 If, then, religious men, on the one side, should acquaint 
 themselves better with science, scientific men who are not pro- 
 fessedly religious, on the other, should cultivate a more modest 
 tone in presenting views which are still open to doubt. Let 
 neither party bring against the other railing accusations ; but 
 let each use toward the other the language of Christian 
 charity, and act in the spirit of Christian forbearance. Both 
 are in the pursuit, of the same avowed object; let them 
 harmoniously pursue it together. 
 
 Something like this must take place, and must take place 
 soon, or the most deplorable consequences are in store for the 
 world. The progress of science cannot be arrested. It has an 
 inherent vitality which acquires new vigor with each succeed- 
 ing year. It is, moreover, day by day and hour by hour, 
 securing a stronger hold upon men's consideration and regard, 
 by intertwining itself more and more with all their earthly 
 interests. Estranged from religion, it . may exert a fatal 
 power in dragging men after it. It may become in fact 
 the baleful influence which it is now only suspected of being 
 capable of becoming. 
 
 Let science and religion be harmonized, let their devotees 
 unite lovingly their efforts in one common search after truth, 
 and nobler triumphs than have ever yet been realized may 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BAKNAKD 361 
 
 crown their alliance. Their labors will be fruitful, for God's 
 blessing will be upon them. Year by year, in constantly in- 
 creasing profusion, the hand of science shall scatter benefits 
 over every land. But infinitely more valuable than all she 
 has ever done or can do to promote the comfort of mankind, 
 will be the lesson she will bring, " Seek ye first the kingdom 
 of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be 
 added unto you." 
 
 The effect of Dr. Barnard's Inaugural Address was 
 immediate and emphatic. Portions of it were widely 
 copied in the periodicals of the time. Men of science felt 
 that in him they had a champion worthy of their cause, 
 and the leaders of religious thought were reassured by 
 the conviction that with him they might safely take " the 
 true position, the strong position, the only impregnable 
 position against the assaults of sceptical physicists, in the 
 field occupied by the assailants themselves." 
 
362 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 A lack of incident in Dr. Barnard's later life Discouragements of the 
 earlier years of his presidency Discipline The responsibility of 
 students Freedom of attendance The marking system Oral and 
 written examinations Grading Honors Decrease in attendance 
 in the collegiate department Admissions without examination 
 Visitation of affiliated schools. 
 
 THE life of Dr. Barnard, after his election to the Presi- 
 dency of Columbia College, was devoid of incident. Apart 
 from his literary labors, which will be mentioned later on, 
 there is little to be recorded except the gradual modifica- 
 tion and ultimate change of some of his views, and the 
 development of his plans for the expansion of the college 
 into a university. In the twenty-four years of his service, 
 he was absent from his post for only a single year, when 
 he was appointed by the President of the United States 
 one of the ten government commissioners to the Exposition 
 of the Industries of All Nations at Paris, which was opened 
 to the public on April 1st, 1867. He sailed from New 
 York early in February, with the intention of observing 
 the great solar eclipse which occurred on March 6 of that 
 year, and which was central and annular in the south of 
 Italy. Salerno was selected as the point of observation, 
 and on his arrival there, he found a party of astronomers 
 who had been sent from the Paris Observatory. Unfortu- 
 nately, their purpose was thwarted, for, as in Labrador in 
 1860, the sky was completely overcast with clouds during 
 the whole time of the eclipse, and he returned to Paris by 
 way of Naples, Rome, Pisa, and other places of interest. 
 
FEEDEEICK A. P. BAENAED 363 
 
 Until the close of the Exposition in the month of Novem- 
 ber, he remained at Paris in discharge of his official 
 duties ; and on his return to New York on December 9, 
 after an absence of ten months, he was occupied during 
 the winter in the preparation of a report on the Machinery 
 and Processes of the Industrial Arts and of the Apparatus 
 of the Exact Sciences exhibited in the Exposition. This 
 report forms the third volume of the series of Official 
 Reports of the Commission. 
 
 Again, in the summer of 1869, and afterwards in 1873, 
 1878, and 1881, Dr. Barnard travelled in Europe, visiting 
 England, Scotland, Germany, Austria, the Tyrol, north- 
 eastern Italy, Switzerland, Holland, and Belgium. Dur- 
 ing the International Exposition at Vienna in 1873, he 
 was one of the few foreigners who were invited to be 
 present at the grand reception given at Schoenbrunn by 
 the Emperor of Austria to the Shah of Persia. In 1876, 
 he was appointed Assistant Commissioner-General from 
 the United States to the International Exposition of that 
 year in Paris, and after the Exposition he received from 
 the French Government the decoration of an Officer of 
 the Legion of Honor. 
 
 In the foregoing paragraphs there is contained a suffi- 
 cient summary of the principal events in Dr. Barnard's 
 external life. His true life, the life which is of perma- 
 nent interest, was his life as an educator and as a man of 
 letters. His course was not always smooth. His views 
 were not immediately accepted by the Faculty, and the 
 measures which he most earnestly advocated were adopted 
 far more slowly than he desired and expected. In grap- 
 pling with difficulties and in removing obstructions, it 
 may be supposed that he did not always remember how 
 recently and how strenuously he had opposed the very 
 reforms which he had now come to consider necessary ; 
 
364 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 and it may also be imagined that a certain intolerance of 
 opposition and a certain imperiousness of manner may 
 have failed to secure for his plans an acceptance which 
 might perhaps have been sooner and more easily gained. 
 Another cause of discouragement presented itself in the 
 steady decline of the number of students which began in 
 the first year of his presidency, and which continued for 
 seven successive years. In 1865 there were 150 under- 
 graduates ; in 1872 there were only 116, 19 less than 
 in 1810, and it was not until 1875 that the College re- 
 covered its lost ground. It was during these years, as 
 it will presently appear, that Dr. Barnard changed, and 
 in one important particular seemed to have completely 
 reversed, his former views of the proper scope and arrange- 
 ment of the curriculum of a college education. 
 
 In Dr. Barnard's report to the Board of Trustees for 
 1865, he referred only to the collegiate department which 
 was under his immediate charge. In 1866, he made a 
 brief report of the School of Mines which had then just 
 been established; in 1867, Professor Drisler, the acting 
 President during Dr. Barnard's absence in Europe, con- 
 fined his report to the College proper ; in 1868, Dr. Bar- 
 nard devoted a large part of his report to the School of 
 Mines, and added the statistics of the School of Medicine 
 and the School of Law; and from that year his annual 
 reports invariably included " the College and its Associ- 
 ated Schools," including the School of Medicine, the 
 graduates of which received their degrees from Columbia, 
 although the school itself was under separate management. 
 
 Naturally, his first care was the discipline of the Col- 
 lege. He found the undergraduates to be much more 
 boyish in demeanor than in other colleges. For the most 
 part, they were merely boys who had been pursuing their 
 education at local schools and academies, and who con- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 365 
 
 tinued to live at home on entering Columbia. There was 
 little of what is known in other institutions as "college 
 life." The Freshmen, and even the Sophomores, still con- 
 tinued to be school-boys in feeling and demeanor. Dr. 
 Barnard felt that there ought to be greater seriousness 
 of character and dignity of behavior, and he considered 
 that these characteristics would best be cultivated by 
 releasing the students from the restraints of boyhood. 
 He therefore urged that all rules should be abolished, 
 except the single broad rule that every student should be 
 expected and required to behave like a gentleman. He 
 insisted that the charge of the students which had been 
 contemplated in English colleges and which had been 
 attempted in American colleges, could not rightly be re- 
 quired in an institution like Columbia, the students of 
 which were not living under the direct observation of the 
 Faculty. All the arguments which he had formerly set 
 forth on this subject in the University of Alabama were 
 applied with greater cogency to Columbia. They did 
 not at first commend themselves to general acceptance, 
 but they gradually prevailed, and their good effect was 
 speedily apparent. In 1872, President Barnard reported 
 that the minutes of the Faculty recorded "scarcely a trace 
 of censure upon any student," and he added that this 
 gratifying effect was due "not to the failure to detect 
 offenders, but to the absence of offences to be detected." 
 In 1879, he had the satisfaction to report as follows : 
 
 It has been the unceasing effort of the undersigned, ever 
 since his connection with the College began, to impress the 
 students with a feeling that it is unworthy of young men of 
 good breeding to require the pressure of a superior authority 
 in order to compel them to observe the ordinary rules of pro- 
 priety. . . . The rules of order prescribed for the regulation 
 of individual conduct have been few and small, and such as 
 
366 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 recommend themselves as being obviously indispensable. . . . 
 In all things innocent or indifferent, the largest freedom has 
 been allowed. The instructors, by an unreserved cordiality 
 of intercourse with the members of their classes, have endeav- 
 ored to efface the feeling of constraint which is so often the 
 result of a consciousness of authority on the one side, and of 
 subordination on the other. The students also have been 
 encouraged to communicate freely with the members of the 
 governing body in regard to all matters concerning their con- 
 venience or affecting their contentment with college life, and 
 have been assured that if they have any grievances, it will 
 only be necessary to make them known in order to secure re- 
 lief, so far as it is practicable to give it, and that if they require 
 any gratification which can be consistently granted, they have 
 only to ask in a proper spirit in order to secure it. This policy, 
 if it has not been the exclusive cause of the high morale at 
 present prevailing in the College, has at least done much to 
 foster and sustain it; and the result is that, for a number of 
 years past, and never more remarkably than in the present 
 year, there has been in Columbia College a complete absence 
 of the chronic anxiety for the permanence of good order which 
 is felt in so many smaller institutions where quiet is often 
 only a condition of unstable equilibrium. 
 
 At a later period, Dr. Barnard made an advance even 
 upon this high plane by advocating an admission of the 
 students themselves to participation in the government of 
 the College. The whole difficulty of college government 
 would disappear, he said, 
 
 if the students themselves were made responsible for the pres- 
 ervation of good order. The academic community would then 
 assume the character of a voluntary association for mutual 
 improvement or for social enjoyment, of which many examples 
 exist in every college, illustrating the entire practicability of 
 the principle. Or a college under such a regime may be com- 
 pared to a city club, governed by rules in the framing of which 
 the entire membership has a voice. The possible success of 
 such a scheme is not merely a matter of opinion. It has been 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 367 
 
 actually put into practice in at least two colleges in the United 
 States. When the subject was first referred to by the under- 
 signed, in his annual report for 1881, it was mentioned that 
 the plan of self-government by the students had been in unin- 
 terrupted operation for a period of ten years in the State 
 University of Illinois at Urbana, and that the success of the 
 experiment had been all that was anticipated. More recently 
 Amherst College has adopted the same plan, and a communica- 
 tion received within the last month from the President of that 
 institution expresses his entire satisfaction with it. 
 
 These examples will probably have imitators; and though 
 there is nothing in the condition of our own College to induce 
 us to interest ourselves particularly in the question, it is im- 
 possible that on general principles we should not be disposed 
 to favor this form of government here as well as elsewhere. 
 
 So far did Dr. Barnard go in his desire to recognize 
 the personal responsibility of students, that he began at 
 a very early time to advocate the dropping of all rules 
 concerning their attendance on college exercises. He 
 held that attendance on the classes should be regarded 
 as a privilege by which the student was to profit, and not 
 as a necessity to which he was to be compelled to submit. 
 If he failed to attend regularly, his punishment would 
 be his subsequent failure to pass his examinations ; the 
 reward of punctuality would be an assurance of success. 
 This proposal was adopted with a reasonable modification, 
 namely, that if a student should absent himself without 
 sufficient cause from more than one-fourth of the total 
 number of exercises in any department, he should be 
 debarred from the privilege of examination in that de- 
 partment ; and as the statutes required satisfactory exam- 
 inations in all departments, this provision operated as an 
 exclusion of the negligent student from his degree. The 
 operation of the rule showed that the larger number of 
 students continued to attend no less regularly than before, 
 
368 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 while irregularity of attendance on the part of a small 
 minority was sensibly increased ; and in view of this as- 
 certained result, Dr. Barnard expressed his readiness to 
 amend the rule, so as to exclude a student from examina- 
 tion who should be absent without cause from one-sixth 
 of the exercises of his classes. The change suggested 
 does not appear to have been adopted, and in 1873, the 
 system, after a trial of five years, was found to have been 
 justified by experience. In his report to the Board of 
 Trustees, Dr. Barnard said : 
 
 The attendance of the larger portion of the students is as reg- 
 ular as it ever was under the system of coercion. None are 
 excessively irregular whom the system of penalties would be 
 likely to restrain. If, under the present- system, any become 
 so negligent of duty as to make their further progress impos- 
 sible, their course is arrested by means which spare them the 
 publicity and the mortification which would attend on the 
 operation of penal laws. It seems probable that an experi- 
 ment which has been attended with so happy results in this 
 institution, cannot fail sooner or later to make its way else- 
 where; and there can be little doubt that, wherever it shall 
 be introduced, the difficulties which from time to time have 
 been experienced in the government of colleges, will in great 
 measure disappear. 
 
 Dr. Barnard began at a very early date to agitate an 
 abolition of the "marking system" which existed in the 
 College. He pronounced it to be essentially unsatisfac- 
 tory. He maintained that it was injurious to good 
 scholarship, and that a single written examination at the 
 close of the year would not only give a better evidence of 
 the attainments of the student, but would constrain him to 
 keep the whole studies of his classes continually in mind 
 and memory throughout the year. After a time, he 
 recommended the adoption of the distinction, well known 
 in English universities, between pass examinations for a 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 369 
 
 simple degree, and class examinations for honors, so that 
 students applying for a simple pass should be reported 
 only as "proficient" or "deficient." Still later, he fa- 
 vored the plan of the allowing the students in each class 
 to vote upon the honor standing of its members. The 
 whole subject was discussed in his annual report for 1887, 
 from which an extract is accordingly given here, with 
 some abbreviations : 
 
 The marking system has been going on in this college for 
 years, without having reached any definite conclusion. The 
 phrase itself, without definition, would seem to indicate some 
 universally understood method of estimating according to a 
 numerical scale the relative values of scholastic performances. 
 This, however, is hardly true. There are marking systems 
 and marking systems. In fact, the use of some sort of 
 marking system can hardly be avoided while gradation in 
 merit is attempted at all, even though it should be simplified 
 to a mere arrangement of names in a certain order. In this 
 case the " mark " is the place of the name in the numerical list. 
 This is, in principle, the marking system practised at West 
 Point ; but so far as the knowledge of the undersigned extends, 
 it is not in use in any American or British college. The 
 systems in actual use are various. It may be worth while to 
 indicate their distinctive features. 
 
 That which was in operation in Columbia College when the 
 connection of the undersigned with the institution began, 
 consisted in a daily marking of every exercise at a valuation 
 proportioned to a given maximum according to the judgment 
 of the instructor. The summation of all these valuations for 
 an entire session gave what was called a term-mark. To this 
 was added another value derived from the closing examination, 
 having an effect on the final standing equal to that of the term- 
 mark, and the sum of the two constituted the credit side of 
 the account. But there was also a counter-system of demerit 
 marks for misdemeanors or peccadilloes, the sum of which 
 was required to be deducted from the credit ; and the balance 
 remaining determined the position of the individual in the 
 2s 
 
370 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 order of merit in his class. The working of this system was 
 attended with inconvenience. It assumed that every student 
 should actually perform and receive a mark for every exercise 
 prescribed to his class ; otherwise the aggregate results could 
 afford no fair basis for comparison. But in classes or sections 
 of from thirty to fifty individuals it is impossible to give each 
 person an opportunity to be heard in the brief space of a single 
 hour the time usually devoted to a college exercise. Hence it 
 will happen that a student may fail to be " called up " oftener 
 than once out of three or four times. His record will therefore 
 present a series of blanks, and the number of his actual per- 
 formances will rarely be the same as that of others of his 
 class. As the simplest way of correcting the consequent 
 inequalities, the practice used to be to fill the blanks by allow- 
 ing to each a mark deduced from the sum of those actually 
 given, divided by their number, which was called " giving a 
 man his average." But this did not meet the whole difficulty. 
 The average was given only for blanks occurring when the 
 student was actually present and (ostensibly at least) prepared 
 to perform. Other blanks, however, would from time to time 
 occur, in consequence of absences, excusable or inexcusable. 
 If the absences were excusable by illness or other cause beyond 
 control, the blanks might be filled by " making up " the exer- 
 cise (as it was called) to the instructor out of class hours. 
 This imposed a tax upon the teacher's time, which was 
 occasionally very heavy. But if the absences were not ex- 
 cusable, each blank counted for a zero. 
 
 The faults in this system are obvious. It was a capital 
 fault that it mixed up marks for scholarship with marks for 
 conduct ; so that the results furnished no criterion of character, 
 either intellectual or moral. On this account alone, the under- 
 signed did not hesitate to condemn it at once, and this feature 
 of it was immediately abolished. The system, so modified, 
 continued to be maintained for several years ; but it worked 
 very heavily, and became after a time so unsatisfactory to both 
 officers and students that it was finally, in March, 1869, aban- 
 doned altogether. 
 
 As a substitute it was resolved that, from that time forward, 
 standing in scholarship should be made dependent exclusively 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 371 
 
 on the results of periodical examinations, to be held semi- 
 annually. It was further ordered that these examinations 
 should be conducted, wherever possible, in writing. Also, 
 that in the examination papers periodically prepared, a valua- 
 tion should be attached to each question or requisition set 
 forth for solution; imperfect performances receiving lower 
 valuations according to the estimate of their merit by the 
 examiner. This was a marking system of a simpler kind, and 
 the only system used in the British universities; with this 
 difference, that while those institutions mark once for all, at 
 the conclusion of the course, the marks here were given semi- 
 annually, and the aggregate of all the semi-annual markings 
 were taken at the close. 
 
 A little later this system received a still further simplifica- 
 tion. Marks for particular performances ceased to be given; 
 but every instructor was required to make a monthly report, 
 arranging his students in each of his classes in five groups, 
 distinguished by numbers. Group I. embraced the students 
 manifesting the highest degree of excellence ; the other groups 
 consisted of grades successively inferior, Grade V. being in- 
 tended for the unsatisfactory or deficient. Here personal 
 distinction between the members of the same group were 
 ignored; and at the close of the year, or of the course, the 
 numbers opposite the several names were summed up. The 
 smallest sum indicated the highest standing; the largest sum, 
 the lowest. Names having equal sums against them were 
 bracketed together as of equal rank in the order of merit. 
 
 The officers in their monthly reports were to be guided in 
 their groupings by the judgment they had been able to form 
 of the comparative ability or proficiency of the students, aided 
 by any memoranda they might be disposed to keep of actual 
 performances to assist their recollections; but they were to 
 report no valuations of particular performances. To the under- 
 signed this method of grading seemed to be less open to ob- 
 jection than any other which he had ever seen in operation ; 
 yet, for some reason never distinctly avowed, but supposed to 
 be the omission to distinguish differences of merit between the 
 individual members of the several groups, it began, after a 
 limited period of experiment, to breed discontent; and in 
 
372 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 October, 1870, there was introduced a final modification of the 
 system, giving it the form which it has since maintained, and 
 which seems to be as little satisfactory as any which has gone 
 before. According to the present plan, the monthly reports of 
 the instructors continue as under that which was abolished, but 
 their form is changed, the classification by groups being re- 
 placed by a general list of names in the order of merit ; and 
 the basis on which the arrangement is made being no longer 
 the general judgment of the instructors, but the valuation 
 given to the actual performances of the student in an examina- 
 tion held for this express purpose' every month. The final 
 order of merit for the year or for the course is obtained by 
 combining the results of all the monthly examinations with 
 those of the more general semi-annual examinations, giving 
 to these latter a weight equal to that of all the preceding 
 monthly examinations of the half-year. Under this system, 
 if a student is absent from any monthly or semi-monthly 
 examination he suffers a serious loss, which, however, in case 
 the absence is excusable, he is privileged to make good by a 
 special examination separately held. 
 
 The method here described works certainly with much less 
 friction than the daily marking system formerly in use ; but it 
 is open to some serious objections. The first of these is that 
 the scheme stimulates the ambition to secure favorable marks 
 without awakening a corresponding desire to become possessed 
 of the knowledge by which such marks may be fairly won. To 
 produce a performance which may meet the approval of the 
 examiner is the object of the student's highest endeavor, 
 without regard to the means by which this object is ac- 
 complished. Hence the resort to dishonest practices, the use 
 of which has recently been charged to be general in other 
 institutions as well as in this; and which, there can be no 
 doubt, is often attempted, whatever may be the extent of its 
 success. There are those who have watched the operations of 
 this system for many years, who are ready to declare it is a 
 failure altogether ; and that even under it the highest academic 
 honors have not seldom been secured by fraud. If the under- 
 signed does not fully partake of these convictions, he has at 
 least reason to believe that they are not wholly without 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 373 
 
 foundation; and he therefore regards the objection to the sys- 
 tem well taken, that it does not accomplish the object proposed. 
 
 But a greatly more serious objection to it than its failure, is 
 its demoralizing effect. Whether the fraudulent practices are 
 successful or not, they exert a deadening influence upon the 
 moral sense. So pernicious an influence steadily acting upon a 
 susceptible youth at the period when character is forming can 
 hardly fail to undermine his principles and destroy his sense 
 of obligation in all the relations of life. It destroys, moreover, 
 his sense of shame ; for while in its own nature cheating in an 
 examination-room is as essentially disgraceful, and is always 
 so felt to be by an unsophisticated youth, as cheating at cards, 
 yet a little familiarity with the practices which young men 
 tolerate among themselves so completely dulls their sensibility 
 on the subject that they cease even to affect concealment of 
 their dishonesty, and rather plume themselves publicly among 
 their fellows on their success. 
 
 The evils here spoken of owe their existence to the fact that 
 examinations are in writing. Oral examinations afford small 
 opportunities for imposing upon the examiner a show of 
 knowledge where the reality does not exist. Even though the 
 letter of a text may be correctly repeated, a few well-directed 
 questions will quickly discover how far intelligence enters into 
 the performance. If it be inquired, then, why examinations 
 should not be made entirely oral, the reply must be that they 
 were so half a century ago, and that the method was abandoned 
 for what were then esteemed to be reasons of weight. Among 
 these were the large amount of time necessary to make an oral 
 examination thorough when each individual of a class has to be 
 separately taken up. The method is quite feasible for a single 
 person or for a squad of two or three ; but with classes number- 
 ing from fifty to an hundred or upwards, it becomes intolerably 
 laborious. Another reason is that, in oral examinations, where 
 all the students are examined in each other's presence, the 
 tests cannot be identical to all ; and this, considering that the 
 object of the examination is professedly to settle the question 
 of comparative merit, is a fatal objection. It may indeed 
 happen, and it is in fact an occurrence which often did 
 happe^ that the least proficient man in a class, through the 
 
874 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 lucky chance which, caused the most elementary matters to fall 
 to his share, was enabled to appear to better advantage than the 
 most thoroughgoing of his competitors. 
 
 Neither the oral nor the written examination seems, there- 
 fore, to be well adapted to secure the arrangement of the 
 members of a class in a just order of merit. The question 
 may then be very properly asked, whether this object is im- 
 portant enough to justify the trouble it costs. The educational 
 effect upon young minds of a course of study would be much 
 more beneficial, if the incitement to effort could be the love of 
 knowledge for its own sake rather than the ambition to be 
 publicly proclaimed as outranking their fellows. Why should 
 there be any publication made as to scholastic merit except the 
 distinction of the proficient and the deficient ? This distinction 
 is the only one made in professional schools, and it is the only 
 one needed. In schools of the liberal arts, the order-of-merit 
 plan seems to have been adopted in the belief that the spirit of 
 emulation induced by it might stimulate diligence in study. 
 Perhaps it does to a certain extent, and among the ambitious 
 and the limited number to whom high distinction is a possi- 
 bility; but it is doubtful whether, among the great majority, 
 this stimulus is felt at all, and it is not at all doubtful that, 
 among a large proportion, the influence of the system is dis- 
 couraging rather than animating. 
 
 Should it be deemed advisable, however, to continue to main- 
 tain the traditional practice of grading classes in a regular order 
 of merit, it would seem to the undersigned most judicious to 
 entrust this arrangement either to the judgment of the officers 
 having charge of the instruction of each class, to be made 
 according to the impression produced upon their minds by the 
 performances of individuals throughout the whole course of 
 study, and not upon the basis of any system of numerical 
 record ; or, better than this, to leave this determination to the 
 free suffrages of all the members of the class concerned ; each 
 student to form for himself independently an order of merit 
 embracing the names of all his classmates, and a result or 
 authoritative list to be deduced from the combination of these 
 in the ordinary way of counting the ballots in an election. 
 During all the earlier part of this century, and down to some 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 375 
 
 time later than 1830, no other method of determining academic 
 rank was practised in Yale College than this. The ballot was 
 resorted to only twice during the four-years course : once just 
 previous to the Junior exhibition, and again in anticipation of 
 the final graduation ; but it might be employed more frequently 
 if thought advisable. In the mean time, no record was kept of 
 the relative standing of different individuals, and men were 
 esteemed according to the reputation they established among 
 their classmates, who were the observers of their diligence and 
 of the character of their scholastic performances. This system 
 was abandoned at New Haven, not because of any distrust of 
 its fundamental principles, but for the belief that the plan of 
 giving a daily mark for every exercise would have the effect to 
 keep the student more closely up to his work ; and hence the 
 marking system was adopted. The two could not work to- 
 gether, and consequently the practice of voting was discon- 
 tinued. 
 
 Two obvious advantages recommend the plan here proposed. 
 It leads young men to prize the good opinion of their fellows, 
 and to seek to be esteemed for real and not for fictitious 
 scholarship, represented by marks obtained often by methods 
 of equivocal character ; and it trains young men in their early 
 years to the use of those methods for securing success, on 
 which they will be compelled to depend throughout all their 
 future life. 
 
 Two objections have been made to the plan. First, it is said 
 that young men will be biassed, in giving their voices, by feel- 
 ings of personal friendship or aversion ; so that the vote will 
 not be expressive of an honest judgment. Secondly, there are, 
 at this time, so many distracting interests among college stu- 
 dents, the offspring of their numerous petty associations, that 
 class feeling is to a large extent subordinated to ambitions of a 
 less comprehensive character; in consequence of which the 
 vote will be partisan, and not an expression of conscientious 
 conviction. Both these objections are hypothetical. Long- 
 continued experiment has proved that the first is baseless. 
 The disturbing cause assumed in the second to be so dangerous 
 did not exist, or did not exist to the same degree, early in the 
 century ; and what might be its influence can only be matter 
 
376 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of opinion. A new experiment might very probably prove it 
 to be quite inefficacious for harm. Such an experiment is cer- 
 tainly worth trying. 
 
 It has been already remarked, that from 1865 to 1872 
 there was a gradual but steady decrease of the number of 
 students in attendance on the collegiate department; but 
 after 1872 there was a much more rapid increase, so that 
 in 1878 the number of undergraduates was just one more 
 than twice as many as in 1872. The number of appli- 
 cants for admission in 1877 exceeded one hundred, of 
 whom seventy -five were admitted to the Freshman class. 
 The labor of examining these candidates was very great, 
 and the prospect was that it would become greater from 
 year to year. It was not at all certain that the examina- 
 tions were a satisfactory test of the fitness of the candi- 
 dates to enter upon a course of collegiate study. In some 
 cases, the nervous anxiety of the student made it impos- 
 sible for him to do himself justice; in other cases, a lucky 
 chance might put before an indolent or ill-prepared candi- 
 date questions which he happened to be able to answer, but 
 which did not test his ability to proceed with studies 
 which lay before him; in many cases, students of real 
 ability might be rejected on account of deficiencies which 
 they might easily make up by earnestness and industry ; 
 and in cases still more numerous, students of far less 
 merit might be allowed to pass simply because they had 
 been thoroughly coached and crammed for the entrance 
 examination. In 1878, therefore, Dr. Barnard recom- 
 mended that candidates for admission to the College 
 should be admitted to a probationary trial without pre- 
 liminary examination. Such a trial, he urged, would be 
 in fact "nothing more than a protracted examination." 
 Whatever the student's previous advantages or disadvan- 
 tages might have been, his continuance as a member of 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 377 
 
 the Freshman class would depend largely upon his own 
 diligence and determination to succeed. Dr. Barnard 
 fairly stated the objection that the abolition of entrance 
 examinations would encourage some to present themselves 
 who would not dare to encounter the test of an examina- 
 tion, and whose presence in a class might tend to depress 
 the general standard of scholarship; but to this objection 
 he replied that the real effect of the probationary trial 
 which he recommended would be to detect and exclude 
 that very class of candidates, and to do it far more surely 
 than a single examination either did or could. 
 
 As an alternative to the proposed system of indiscrimi- 
 nate admissions, Dr. Barnard strongly recommended a sys- 
 tem of school visitations under which committees from the 
 Faculty might be sent to schools of reputation to examine 
 their Senior classes, with the understanding that the 
 alumni of such schools should be admitted to the College 
 without further examination. The occasional visits of 
 members of the Faculty to the schools of New York City 
 had been received with expressions of gratification on the 
 part of scholars as well as teachers ; and Dr. Barnard ex- 
 pressed the hope that Columbia College might in this way 
 be drawn into closer relations with the greater schools of 
 the city and the State, with great advantage both to the 
 schools and to the College. 
 
 In 1881, he returned to the subject, urging that the 
 high schools and academies where boys and even young 
 men were now studying at an age at which they would 
 formerly have been in college, ought in a large measure 
 to furnish that systematic intellectual training which was 
 once expected of the College. The practical difficulty with 
 which the College was beset was that students who entered 
 the Junior classes were frequently found not to have re- 
 ceived the necessary preliminary training, and that they 
 
378 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 entered college after they had passed the age in which such 
 training can be successfully given. Thus it came to pass 
 that the College must necessarily fail in the discipline of 
 the mental faculties, without which training the student 
 could profit but little from the special studies of the col- 
 lege course. Dr. Barnard, therefore, urged a revival of 
 the Grammar School which had once existed in connection 
 with the college; but as an alternative plan which, in his 
 opinion, would be even more effectual, he renewed his 
 recommendation of the establishment of close relations 
 with the upper schools of the city and State, and the insti- 
 tution of a system resembling that of the English Univer- 
 sity Examination Board, which extends its examinations 
 to schools in every part of the kingdom. If this plan 
 were adopted, every school of reputation would be obliged 
 in its own interest to adopt the system, and the effect 
 both upon the school and upon the College would be un- 
 questionably good. The relief which it would afford to 
 the Faculty in the examination of students for matricula- 
 tion would be very great, as the alumni of schools and 
 academies which cooperated in the system would be ma- 
 triculated without examination; and others, in accordance 
 with his former recommendation, might be admitted on 
 probation. It does not appear that Dr. Barnard's views 
 of this subject were ever changed, and it may be hoped 
 that his desire for a closer relation between colleges and 
 the upper schools of the city and State may yet be realized. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 379 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 A change of views on the subject of elective studies Modern languages 
 Defects of the American college system Popular dissatisfaction 
 with it proved by statistics Increase of interest in scientific studies 
 The beginning of an elective system advocated The elective system 
 again pressed The old theory of the college curriculum exclusively 
 for mental discipline rejected The revival of the "double course" 
 recommended Success of the elective system reported, and its exten- 
 sion suggested The elective principle advanced as the key which 
 solves all difficulties of the college problem The elective system 
 adopted for the Junior and Senior years. 
 
 THE subject on which Dr. Barnard's views underwent 
 the greatest change was that of the studies which ought to 
 have a place in a regular college course. It will be re- 
 membered that in Alabama he had insisted upon the neces- 
 sity and advantages of a rigid course of the old fashion, the 
 exclusive object of which should be the discipline of the 
 mental faculties, as distinguished from the acquisition of 
 knowledge for the sake of its prospective utility. On 
 this subject he was then the most conservative of con- 
 servatives, maintaining that the concessions which had 
 been made by American colleges to the general demand 
 for "useful" knowledge had been attended only with a 
 diminution of their usefulness in mental discipline, with- 
 out any compensating advantage in the imparting of 
 knowledge of practical utility. He did not deny the need 
 of professional schools ; but he insisted that when they 
 were required, they ought to be established and main- 
 tained apart from the college, and that the only relation 
 that the college could rightly sustain to them would be to 
 supply them with students whose previous training would 
 
380 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 enable them to pursue their professional studies to the 
 best advantage. When he went to Mississippi, he greatly 
 enlarged his conception of the function of a university as 
 a school of all learning, both theoretical and practical, but 
 there is no evidence that his views of the college proper 
 as a school simply of mental discipline were at all relaxed ; 
 and when he reached Columbia, his first thought seems to 
 have been only to relieve the college course of studies which, 
 in his opinion, could not be pursued with advantage, and 
 which tended to thwart its true and only right purpose. 
 In his first report to the Trustees, he approached that sub- 
 ject somewhat tentatively by expressing the opinion that 
 " it is quite doubtful whether modern history, in the proper 
 sense of the word, ought to occupy any considerable space 
 in the teaching of our colleges " ; and by hinting that 
 " political economy, while it might have a place in an 
 institution having the character of a proper university in 
 which the student is presumed to have been already 
 educated," is less appropriate in the curriculum of a 
 simple college. In consequence of these suggestions, the 
 history of philosophy and the philosophy and history of 
 the mathematics were dropped from the curriculum of 
 undergraduate studies, but it is noteworthy that the 
 time which was thus saved was at once devoted to phy- 
 sical science. 
 
 During his visit to Europe, in 1867, Dr. Barnard availed 
 himself of every opportunity to examine the plans and 
 arrangements for teaching practical science in the mining 
 schools of London and Paris. In the course of these 
 investigations, he became deeply impressed with the defec- 
 tiveness of the Columbia School of Mines in failing to 
 provide proper instruction in the modern languages of 
 continental Europe, without which many of the greatest 
 works of science must be inaccessible to the student. It 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 381 
 
 was manifest, however, that the study of these languages, 
 if it were to be of any real service, must be undertaken before 
 the student's entrance at the School of Mines. It ought, 
 therefore, he thought, to be admitted as a part of the 
 regular college curriculum ; and he was confirmed in his 
 belief when he learned that this plan had just been adopted 
 at Harvard, where French and German were to be intro- 
 duced into the regular course, French being required 
 throughout the Freshman and the first half of the Sopho- 
 more year, German during the second half of the Sophomore 
 year, and both of these languages, together with Spanish 
 and Italian, being admitted as elective studies throughout 
 the Junior and Senior years. At Harvard, after the Fresh- 
 man year, no Latin or Greek was to be required, but the 
 student was to be permitted to elect these studies, to the 
 exclusion of the modern languages, mathematics, physics, 
 or chemistry. At this date, the Harvard scheme com- 
 mended itself to the judgment of Dr. Barnard. He 
 denied that it was " an unconditional surrender of the 
 claims of the ancient learning, alike as to its intrinsic 
 and its educational importance," on the somewhat illogical 
 ground that the surrender had really been made long ago. 
 
 The scheme [he said] is only a frank confession that the 
 American college system has been attempting for the last 
 quarter of a century to accomplish what it cannot perform. 
 The addition of one subject after another to the curriculum of 
 instruction has so increased the task proposed as to render 
 thorough instruction in anything all but impossible. The 
 effect upon scholarship in Latin and Greek has been visibly 
 in a high degree injurious. If it has not prevented the forma- 
 tion of accomplished scholars in particular instances, it has cer- 
 tainly diminished the amount of general attainment; for by 
 the encroachment of the studies more recently superadded, the 
 time once devoted to this has been greatly reduced, until the 
 learning which was once the pride of our educational system 
 
382 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 is menaced with the danger of being completely smothered. 
 The process has been gradual and insidious. When chemistry, 
 physics, mineralogy, geology, and other natural sciences were 
 first introduced, they were taught by lecture, at hours not 
 occupied by the regular studies of the course, and without 
 reducing the number of hours devoted to those subjects. Sub- 
 sequently, however, the new subjects demanded and obtained 
 a fuller recognition, secured to themselves an allotment of 
 a certain number of regular hours, and a lodgement having 
 been thus effected, the intruding studies have gradually gained 
 ground. The consequence is that the quantity of Latin and 
 Greek which is now read in colleges has diminished fully 
 one-half ; and yet it is notorious that the time given to chemis- 
 try or physical science is insufficient to give the student more 
 than the most superficial knowledge of either of these subjects. 
 
 In Dr. Barnard's opinion, the scheme adopted by Har- 
 vard University was nothing more than was required by 
 a frank recognition of the fact " that a college cannot ex- 
 pect to teach every individual student everything which 
 it is prepared to teach ; and that in offering to each a 
 choice of studies, it was simply making it possible for him 
 to make himself proficient in those which he could pursue 
 with profit." It would still be open to any and every 
 man to make himself a classical scholar, without having 
 his progress checked by the compulsory study of half a 
 dozen sciences in which he could not become proficient 
 if he would, and would not if he could. In the move- 
 ment of Harvard, the oldest college institution of the 
 country, he did not hesitate to say that there was an 
 indication of the course which all colleges would be com- 
 pelled to pursue sooner or later; and he urged that, so 
 far as the modern languages were concerned, it should 
 be taken into immediate consideration at Columbia. 
 
 In 1870, he returned to the subject. He expressed his 
 conviction that the demand for educational culture of a 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 383 
 
 high order was not diminishing, and that the number of 
 young men who were seeking it was not less in propor- 
 tion to the population than it had been. Some kind of 
 intellectual eminence was as much desired as ever, but 
 the preference was no longer exclusively given to the 
 polite and academic learning furnished by the established 
 college course. A knowledge of modern languages had 
 come to be considered necessary, and scientific studies 
 had at once a practical utility and, to many students, an 
 inherent attraction, beyond that of literary and classical 
 culture. This was a fact which might be shown by sta- 
 tistics ; for the fact was that the number of college stu- 
 dents, relatively to the total number of the population 
 of the country, was steadily decreasing. Taking New 
 England alone as an example, he showed that in 1826 
 the number of college students was 1 in 1513; in 1838, 
 it had risen to 1 in 1294 ; in 1855, it had fallen to 1 in 
 1689 ; and in 1869, it had fallen still further to 1 in 192T. 
 In fact, the total number of college students in the New 
 England States had remained stationary for a period of 
 fourteen years from 1855 to 1869, since the total number 
 of students in the former year was 1745, and in the latter 
 it was only 1754, while the population had increased dur- 
 ing the same period by more than fifty per cent. 
 
 The inference which Dr. Barnard drew from these sta- 
 tistics was, that from 1826 to 1838 collegiate education 
 had been gaining in favor, and that the number of liber- 
 ally educated men in proportion to the population had 
 become larger and larger ; but that from 1838 onward, 
 the tendency had been decidedly the other way. It was 
 evident that some cause must have begun about 1838 
 to affect the public mind and to produce a tendency to 
 diminish the relative demand for college education, while 
 it increased the demand for educational culture of a dif- 
 
384 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ferent character. That cause, he said, was the growing 
 interest in physical science which began to assert itself 
 somewhere about the year 1830. About that time 
 
 the numerous splendid triumphs of modern science began to a 
 marked degree to arrest the public attention. That was the 
 era of the .invention of the oxyhydrogen blowpipe, of the con- 
 struction of the electro-magnet, of the creation of permanent 
 galvanic batteries, of the invention of the magnetic telegraph, 
 of rapidly multiplying applications of chemistry to the indus- 
 trial arts, and of the introduction of steam as a motive power 
 upon the ocean. It was also the era which presented directly 
 under the eyes of every man, woman, and child in the land 
 one of the most magnificent of the creations of science applied 
 to industry, the railroad, with its necessary concomitant, the 
 locomotive. And it is within the clear recollection of every 
 man whose own personal history goes back to that period, that 
 that was the era in which first arose in our country that clamor 
 against the value of classical studies of which we have since 
 heard so much, and of which the principal burden seems to be 
 that the classics produce no telegraphs, create no engines, lay 
 down no railways, and turn the wheels of no mills. 
 
 Dr. Barnard did not recommend that collegiate institu- 
 tions should surrender to the " clamor " against classical 
 studies. 
 
 The literature of Eome and Greece cannot be put aside or 
 made to be forgotten of men ; because it is not the literature 
 of a people or of an age, but it is the literature of the world 
 and of all time. Nor can the languages of Eome and Greece 
 be thrust out of our halls of learning, or excluded from the 
 course of our superior education, because they are not the 
 extinct languages of a limited spot of the world's surface; 
 they are, in an important sense, the languages of all southern 
 Europe, of England, and of America. It is a perversion of 
 terms to speak of them as dead languages, and to call upon 
 us to bury them because they are dead. They are not dead 
 but living, and we cannot bury them, endeavor as we may. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 385 
 
 They live in our own tongue, they live in our literature, they 
 live in our philosophy, they live in our history, they live in 
 our jurisprudence. When they shall be actually dead, we too 
 shall be dead like them, and other races yet unknown to his- 
 tory shall come here to live among the ruins we have left. 
 
 Nevertheless, while still maintaining these views, and 
 indignantly refusing to permit himself to be " considered 
 unfaithful to the cause of good letters," Dr. Barnard 
 avowed " the belief that literary colleges should, in justice 
 to a large and increasing class of learners, throw open 
 their doors more widely than they have done heretofore 
 to students whose aspirations are rather scientific than 
 literary." He asked for nothing more than a beginning, 
 and he informed the Board of Trustees that an exceed- 
 ingly modest beginning had already been made by per- 
 mitting the Senior class, during the second term of the 
 year, and only then, to exercise a certain freedom in the 
 selection of their studies. In consequence of that change, 
 he said, a greater degree of diligence and a larger con- 
 tentment had been secured than had previously prevailed 
 in the same period of the academic course. 
 
 In 1871, he renewed his agitation of the subject, claim- 
 ing that a further and more thorough investigation of the 
 statistics of American colleges had proved his assertion 
 that the number of students pursuing a strictly collegiate 
 course was steadily diminishing throughout the whole 
 country, while the demand for scientific education was 
 everywhere increasing. In the long run, he observed, the 
 popular judgment of systems of education must prevail. 
 If any system, however good in theory, or however admira- 
 ble in its results, should cease to be adapted to the exi- 
 gencies of life, its failure would surely be detected by the 
 people, and unless it were amended, it would fall into dis- 
 repute and neglect. The popular verdict, when clearly 
 2c 
 
386 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 rendered, must be accepted. No theory could stand against 
 it. It would be idle to prove to a people that they ought 
 to prefer a system which they had deliberately made up 
 their minds not to prefer ; and of the present judgment 
 of the people of this country there could be no question. 
 The statistics of colleges in the State of New York showed 
 a state of facts essentially the same as that which he had 
 previously shown to exist in New England. Taking up, 
 for instance, at random, the American Almanac for 1848, 
 it appeared that the six colleges then existing in the State 
 reported in that year 940 undergraduate students, while 
 in 1870, though the number of colleges had been actually 
 doubled, the number of their undergraduates was only 
 1034, showing an increase in twelve years of only ten per 
 cent, while the population had increased not less than 
 fifty per cent. 
 
 Such a fact as this, he maintained to be as significant as 
 it was startling ; and he held that its significance was 
 shown by the success of Cornell University. That insti- 
 tution had been established on the elective principle, and 
 from its first opening, its halls had been so thronged 
 with students that in the third year of its existence the 
 number of its undergraduates was greater than that of 
 any three of the colleges of the State which had been in 
 existence for half a century. Elsewhere a similar indica- 
 tion had been manifest. The University of Michigan had 
 pursued the same plan with similar results for a much 
 longer period ; and a remarkable illustration of the gen- 
 eral tendency of the public mind was to be found by a 
 comparison of Harvard University with her most promi- 
 nent competitor, Yale College. For many years these two 
 institutions had nearly equally shared in popular favor, 
 but while the average undergraduate attendance at Yale 
 had remained nearly stationary for the last ten years, 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 387 
 
 Harvard, under the elective system, had increased the roll 
 of its undergraduates by nearly two hundred. These 
 facts were too suggestive to be put aside ; and Dr. Bar- 
 nard, having now unequivocally placed himself on the side 
 of the new system, proceeded with characteristic vigor to 
 assail the old. 
 
 The strongest argument in favor of an invariable curric- 
 ulum of study extending through the college course, was 
 its effectiveness as an exclusively mental discipline ; but 
 the assumption that it ought to be nothing else he declared 
 to be only an assumption which could no longer be ad- 
 mitted. There is a period of life during which the mind, 
 like the body, is in a state of development, and it is 
 during that period that the discipline of the mental facul- 
 ties can be most successfully prosecuted. There comes a 
 time at which the body has attained its full growth, and 
 there is a time at which the mind has likewise attained 
 such maturity as to be no longer susceptible of the 
 plastic influences of earlier years. In infancy, education is 
 almost omnipotent. In early boyhood, the educator may 
 force the faculties into almost any mould. But the time 
 comes at which the teacher must be content to give fair 
 play to the faculties as they are, and when a youth has 
 reached that stage of development, the discipline of earlier 
 years must be frankly abandoned. Now, it was a singu- 
 lar fact that in the earlier part of the century, the age at 
 which boys entered college was very much earlier than in 
 later years, and the discipline which was appropriate to 
 young boys could not be equally appropriate to young men 
 because a youth of seventeen or eighteen years of age is 
 not susceptible to the influences, and is not capable of the 
 discipline, which may rightly be applied to boys of thir- 
 teen or fourteen. For the latter, " there might be reason 
 to demand that the entire course should be shaped with a 
 
388 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 view to mental discipline only. As respects the former, 
 there is no less reason for requiring that a principal object 
 should be to impart knowledge for the sake of knowledge 
 itself ; and though this should not be the governing 
 object throughout the whole course, it ought at least to 
 give character to the later years." 
 
 The second reason that the old college curriculum, de- 
 signed exclusively for mental discipline, was no longer 
 expedient, was that it was no longer practicable. It had 
 already in fact been abandoned. Originally, the subjects 
 of instruction had been few, and, with the exception of 
 the pure mathematics, they had been literary ; but this 
 was no longer the case. The curriculum had been over- 
 loaded by gradual additions which were utilitarian and not 
 disciplinary, and the effect was that neither mental dis- 
 cipline nor the utilitarian purpose was attained. It would 
 clearly be better to allow either the one or the other, 
 instead of pursuing a policy which defeated the object of 
 both. 
 
 A third reason for ceasing to insist upon an invariable 
 curriculum was that the colleges were the only institu- 
 tions in America which could supply the training de- 
 manded by the public and by the necessities of the age. 
 Just as the matter stood, colleges professed to teach nearly 
 everything, and yet they were hardly able to pursue a 
 single subject beyond its rudiments. The majority of 
 students did not become sufficiently proficient even in 
 the classics to be able to read the works of classical 
 authors which they had not read before, and it could not 
 be pretended that the colleges were adequately fulfilling 
 the function of scientific schools. He therefore concluded 
 that since the colleges ought not to abandon the classical 
 field, and since their present arrangements made it impossi- 
 ble to supply satisfactory instruction on other subjects 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 389 
 
 without interfering with the classical course, there re- 
 mained no other alternative than to allow undergrad- 
 uates to select the studies in which they desired to become 
 proficient. Unless that wise policy were adopted they 
 must expect the disfavor under which they were laboring 
 to increase rather than diminish. 
 
 In 1872, Dr. Barnard reported the successful operation 
 of the very moderate and purely tentative elective system 
 which had been thus far adopted in the Senior class, and he 
 noted with great satisfaction that the studies which had 
 been freely chosen by the students had not been "easy" 
 studies, but rather the reverse. 
 
 In 1874, he advocated the revival of the "double 
 course," which had once been permitted in Columbia and 
 which had afterwards been abandoned because it did not 
 then recommend itself to the public mind. Dr. Barnard 
 said : 
 
 About forty years ago Columbia College made the experi- 
 ment of establishing a double course; but this experiment, 
 after a trial of some years, was finally abandoned, as not at 
 that time seeming to meet a real want of the community. The 
 want nevertheless has in these later years made itself very 
 manifest ; and while there is still a very large demand for the 
 highest literary culture, and while this department of educa- 
 tion is that which it is doubtless the first duty of Columbia 
 College to promote, it is still true that there are many youthful 
 aspirants to learning who would pursue with pleasure a scien- 
 tific course in college if it were presented to them, yet who 
 are turned away from the highest walks of education when 
 they have no alternative but to pursue a course severely 
 literary. It is therefore probable that the institution of a 
 double course in the college would at this time be attended 
 with greater success than was experienced in 1830. What 
 makes this seem more probable is the fact that at the pres- 
 ent time, the students attending the other two colleges of the 
 city are very largely pursuing what is called the scientific 
 
390 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 course, or the course in which the sciences of nature occupy 
 the principal attention, the modern languages to a great 
 extent, or entirely, take the place of the ancient, and the 
 degree conferred is that of Bachelor of Science. In the 
 University of the City of New York, the number of students 
 in the scientific course is three-fifths of the whole ; and in the 
 College of the City the proportion is the same. These facts 
 would seem to indicate that, by the institution of a double 
 course in the College, the undergraduate department would be 
 made materially more attractive; while there would not be 
 likely to occur any sensible diminution of the numbers who 
 pursue the regular course in the Arts. 
 
 In 1876, Dr. Barnard again reported the satisfactory 
 working of the limited application of the elective system 
 which had been introduced into Columbia, and recom- 
 mended its extension to the Junior year. He said: 
 
 The elective system of study has now been to a moderate 
 extent in operation in our College for four or five years. The 
 anticipations of favorable results from its introduction, origi- 
 nally entertained, have been more than verified by the actual 
 experiment. The students pursue with increased alacrity the 
 studies which they themselves elect, and the instructors find 
 their task made more agreeable by the interested attention of 
 the classes. As yet it has been impracticable to give a large 
 development to the system. It has been extended only to 
 the Senior class, and to that class only by offering an alter- 
 native choice between a limited number of studies arranged 
 in pairs. What is now most needed for the improvement of 
 the undergraduate course is, after the reservation of a certain 
 number of subjects indispensable in any system of liberal edu- 
 cation as subjects to which all shall be required to attend, to 
 throw open wide freedom of choice as to all the rest. This 
 might with propriety be done with the studies of every year 
 after the first, but should by all means be done with those of 
 the Junior and Senior years. The misadventure of a close cur- 
 riculum of study, enforced equally upon all, is that it confines 
 the teaching of the college within an exceedingly narrow 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 391 
 
 scope and makes it impossible that the institution shall be- 
 come what the university in its theory is designed to be 
 a studium generale. The range of the teaching of Harvard 
 University in its department of Arts at present, as compared 
 with that of any college maintaining a close curriculum, may 
 be inferred from the fact that, while the latter teach only so 
 much as any single student can learn during the period 
 allotted to the course, the former offers a choice among 
 studies which in the aggregate amount to fourteen times as 
 much as any single student could accomplish. 
 
 With most American colleges, a close curriculum of study 
 is a necessity forced upon them by their financial feebleness. 
 To enlarge the scope of their teaching and to increase studies, 
 is to multiply classes or subdivisions, and to necessitate an 
 increase in the corps of instruction with correspondingly in- 
 creased expenditure. The elective system will, therefore, prob- 
 ably never be universally adopted, and perhaps not generally. 
 It will even be opposed doubtless, in the future, as it has 
 been in the past, for reasons drawn from a theory of educa- 
 tion suited to a period when college students were generally 
 younger in years than at present, and when the circle of 
 human knowledge was much narrower. But it is sure to make 
 its way with those institutions whose resources are such as to 
 allow its introduction. And it is only upon the foundations 
 afforded by this limited number that we can hope to see in this 
 country universities grow up, in which, as in those of the conti- 
 nent of Europe, educational culture shall receive its highest and 
 fullest development. Among our older collegiate institutions, 
 there is no one which has hitherto adhered more persistently 
 to the theory of a close curriculum than Yale. When, nearly 
 fifty years ago, the agitation in favor of what has since been 
 called the new education began, the Faculty of Yale College 
 were earnest in resisting the threatened encroachment of 
 the time-honored system which had so long held peaceful pos- 
 session of all our schools of higher learning. Their argument 
 in favor of the actual system with its close curriculum of 
 study was one of the earliest contributions to the literature 
 of the subject in this country. But this same institution 
 has now within the past few weeks announced an entire 
 
392 MEMOIES OF 
 
 change of her whole plan; and henceforth her course of 
 teaching will be nearly or quite as largely elective as that 
 of Harvard has been for the past ten or fifteen years. 
 
 In Columbia College it seems to the undersigned that a 
 similar change must soon be recognized as a duty. This 
 institution is one of the few which may really be able to 
 make themselves universities in the highest sense; schools 
 in which the seeker after knowledge in any form may find 
 what he wants. The development must, of course, be pro- 
 gressive, but there can be no progress without a beginning. 
 The- first step should be to utilize the means we have of 
 enlarging the scope of our teaching without necessarily in- 
 creasing the number of our teachers. 
 
 Nothing is wanting to its realization but the enlargement of 
 the accommodations provided for the department of Arts. 
 With apartments in which students could profitably employ 
 themselves when not under instruction, and corresponding 
 provision for the teachers that may pursue their studies and 
 investigations when not employed in teaching, the efficiency 
 of our College as a school of instruction could be made greater 
 than at present manifold. 
 
 In 1879, Dr. Barnard said: 
 
 Many complaints have reached the undersigned in regard 
 to our omissions and the insufficiency of our teaching in what 
 we undertake. It has been inquired why French, and Spanish, 
 and German, and Anglo-Saxon, and botany, and physiology, 
 do not form parts of our regular course; and why Sanskrit, 
 and Hebrew, and Arabic, and quaternions, and the calculus of 
 variations, are not offered to students whose tastes lie in the 
 direction of those studies. These are a few of our omissions. 
 As to our insufficient teaching, one critic asserts that we have 
 driven chemistry into a corner ; another, that we have turned 
 history out of doors ; a third, that mineralogy and geology are 
 almost denied a hearing ; a fourth, that the English language 
 and English composition are hardly taught at all. And so it 
 goes on. No subject, in the opinion of those who esteem them- 
 selves the best qualified to judge, is properly provided for in 
 our programme of study. Nor is it possible to make such pro- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 393 
 
 vision as shall be universally satisfactory, except by indefinitely 
 extending the duration of the course on the one hand, or by 
 ceasing to require the candidate for graduation to include in 
 his special range of study every subject which the college 
 undertakes to teach, on the other. 
 
 The principle of elective study is the key which solves the 
 whole difficulty. By limiting the student to a certain number 
 of subjects, sufficient time may be allowed him to perfect him- 
 self in each, and sufficient time may be allowed the teacher to 
 do his subject justice. The college may at the same time en- 
 large the scope of its teaching, and embrace in its general 
 scheme of instruction every subject of literary or scientific 
 interest, without in any degree diminishing the thoroughness 
 with which each branch is taught. And it is only in this way 
 that, in the present age, any college can hope to secure and 
 maintain a really high character as an institution of learning. 
 Its teachers may be learned, and personally may be able ; but 
 the character of the institution as an institution depends less 
 upon what they are than upon how much they teach. The 
 amount of their teaching is limited by the time allowed them 
 to accomplish it in; and that time will be reduced to a mini- 
 mum when every subject must have its place in a close curric- 
 ulum. limited to four years. 
 
 In 1880, he again urged the extension of the elective 
 system of study throughout the Junior and Senior years, as 
 " a logical necessity of the condition in which the College 
 was placed,' 9 and he urged its adoption as the only proper 
 preparation for a system of post-graduate instruction which 
 the Board of Trustees was then considering. That, he 
 said, " is the direction in which our institution is destined 
 to make its usefulness principally felt. It is so because, 
 in this principal city of the continent, which is yet perhaps 
 to be the greatest city of the world, there is a need of an 
 institution which shall stand forth as the expositor and the 
 representative of the highest learning. This institution 
 and no other is capable of taking that high position, and 
 
394 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 must, by force of circumstances, be compelled to take it." 
 He denied that there would be any necessity for the Col- 
 lege to abandon its present field. The undergraduate 
 department need not fall into neglect, nor would it be lost 
 in the shadow of the superior development. The very 
 contrary was probable, for as the institution grew in any 
 direction, the impression of its importance and magnitude 
 must necessarily grow upon the public mind and must 
 necessarily react beneficially upon all departments. 
 
 In consequence of Dr. Barnard's long-continued urgency, 
 the elective system was extended to the Junior as well 
 as to the Senior class, and, so far as modern languages were 
 concerned, it was extended to all classes of the College. 
 In 1882, he made a full report on the working of the sys- 
 tem, and expressed his great satisfaction with its results; 
 but he already began to see that it might be attended with 
 certain disadvantages. As a general rule, it had been 
 experimentally found that students applied themselves 
 with the greatest profit to studies in which they took the 
 greatest pleasure ; yet it was undoubtedly true that there 
 were some whose selection was controlled by a desire to 
 acquit themselves of their academic obligations with a 
 minimum of labor, and selections made with that motive 
 could not be desirable. The great body of young men 
 were really interested in their studies, but it might be 
 necessary for them to be required to consult with their 
 instructors in making their selections. This view he pre- 
 sented with even greater fulness in the following year, 
 when he showed as the result of the elective system, so far 
 as it had been adopted, that there had been a progressive 
 advance in scholarship which was really remarkable. 
 Nevertheless, he recurred to the recommendation which he 
 had made in the previous year, that the student should be 
 required to submit his list of studies to the approval of the 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BAKNAED 395 
 
 members of the Faculties under whose instruction he had 
 been in the previous portion of his course. Many of the 
 undergraduates had voluntarily done so; and in other 
 cases members of the Faculty had offered their advice with 
 good effect. Yet, on the whole, it was Dr. Barnard's 
 judgment that it would be wise to modify the system 
 so as to offer to the choice of the student, not single 
 studies which might be injudiciously combined, but parallel 
 courses which should be arranged with a view to the natu- 
 ral interdependence of their topics and with due regard to 
 the logical order of their sequence, so as to maintain the 
 disciplinary purpose of college education to the end of the 
 course. It was a satisfaction to Dr. Barnard to be able to 
 say that the Faculty were then engaged in the preparation 
 of a scheme intended to embrace two, or perhaps three, 
 parallel courses properly introductory to the higher studies 
 leading to the several degrees which were to be open to 
 students in the post-graduate department. 
 
 This is his last recorded communication to the Board on 
 the subject of elective studies, and represents the conclu- 
 sions which he had reached after fourteen years of discus- 
 sion and an experience of several years of the elective 
 system in operation. 
 
396 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 Dr. Barnard's change of view on the elective system A real consistency 
 underlying it Change of the age at which young men enter college 
 The college of the future Graduate fellows as instructors Expan- 
 sion of the college into a university The graduate department The 
 abandonment of the undergraduate department suggested Opening 
 of the college to women proposed Reasons urged in behalf of the 
 measure Movements for the higher education of women in Eng- 
 land and America Objections to it answered The measure again 
 urged The Faculty of Columbia ready either to receive young women 
 as students or to teach them in an annex The Harvard Annex 
 Barnard College established in connection with Columbia Table of 
 attendance in Columbia College, and its associated schools from 1865 
 to the close of President Barnard's administration in 1888. 
 
 IN the change of Dr. Barnard's views of the elective 
 system, there was far less inconsistency than appears 
 upon the surface. Indeed, there was hardly any change 
 of his fundamental principles of education, only a recog- 
 nition of the need of some change in their application. 
 He never ceased to insist upon the necessity of systematic 
 mental training as a preparation for the serious studies 
 of professional life. That training had been the exclusive 
 purpose of college education until the pressure of a popu- 
 lar demand for " useful " knowledge had induced the 
 colleges of this country to add to their curriculum a large 
 number of studies of supposed utility, with the inevitable 
 consequence that the value of the college course as a sys- 
 tem of mental training was impaired, while the amount 
 of useful knowledge which the student could acquire 
 was merely elementary. Year by year it grew clearer 
 to Barnard's mind that the existing system was wholly 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 397 
 
 unsatisfactory, that the original simplicity of the college 
 course could not be restored, and consequently, that some 
 other change was imperatively required. 
 
 Another fact was obvious ; the age at which youths 
 entered college was considerably later than it had been 
 in former years. When colleges were intended simply 
 to train the mental and intellectual faculties, students 
 were matriculated while they were mere boys, and it 
 was not unusual for them to complete their college 
 course at the age of sixteen or seventeen, and often 
 much earlier. Thus they enjoyed the advantages of 
 mental training precisely at the time when their minds 
 were most susceptible of discipline, and they entered 
 on their professional studies at the very age at which the 
 student of the present time is entering on his college 
 course. The mental discipline which had been well 
 adapted to young boys at the most plastic period of 
 human life, was obviously less suitable to young men, 
 and hence it seemed to President Barnard to be necessary 
 in the circumstances that the college course should now 
 be designed to furnish something more than the mental 
 training which in different circumstances had been prop- 
 erly regarded as its only purpose. In this view he was 
 confirmed by observing that academies and high schools, 
 below the grade of colleges, were now, professedly and 
 often successfully, furnishing the mental training which 
 was the original purpose of the college, so that colleges 
 not only might but ought now to adapt their curriculum 
 to the requirements of students who were no longer mere 
 boys and whose minds had been already prepared for 
 serious studies. 
 
 Another consideration presented itself. At the age 
 at which young men now enter college, they and their 
 parents or guardians have usually formed some idea 
 
398 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of their future occupation in life, and it is natural that 
 they should desire their college studies to be more or 
 less directly serviceable in the life which lies before them. 
 To the future clergyman, classical studies will always 
 be of prime importance, and the study of Greek will be 
 as important as that of Latin; to the future lawyer, 
 historical studies will be invaluable, and Latin will be 
 of more importance than Greek; a student who intends 
 to devote himself to a scientific profession will prefer 
 mathematics, chemistry, or some department of natural 
 history, as the case may be, and he will nearly always 
 prefer the modern to the ancient languages. No student 
 can possibly make himself equally proficient in all these 
 subjects, nor is it desirable that he should attempt it ; 
 therefore, a wisely advised elective system of some kind 
 seems to be indispensable if colleges are to meet the 
 necessities of education in the present age. The original 
 purpose of continuous mental discipline need not, and 
 never ought to be, forgotten ; and therefore it was Dr. 
 Barnard's final belief that under a well-regulated elective 
 system, the student should be permitted to choose between 
 carefully arranged courses of study rather than to make 
 an arbitrary selection among all the studies for which the 
 college makes provision. 
 
 In 1873, he described the college of the future as follows: 
 
 The college of the future is destined to fulfil a higher func- 
 tion in the work of education than it has done heretofore ; it 
 will no longer be restricted to the business of developing the 
 germs of intellect in immature minds, by an indiscriminating 
 system of study and drill enforced equally upon all, a task 
 which must now, to a great extent, be borne by the inferior 
 schools during that portion of the young learner's time which 
 is most favorable to this process ; but it will perform a service 
 no less important for which hitherto no proper provision has 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 399 
 
 been made, that of giving the differential culture which is 
 required to bring out the full strength of minds approaching 
 maturity, and manifesting as they do so the salient character- 
 istics which distinguish each individuality. . . . The advan- 
 tages of such an intermediate special culture are too obvious 
 to be questioned. In the discussions which have been recently 
 going on in England as to the desirability of a reform of the 
 fellowship system of the great universities, and a modification 
 of the conditions upon which fellowships may be held, and an 
 abridgment of the terms for which they shall be granted, and 
 the educational value of the fellowships themselves, has been 
 defended on the ground that " before throwing himself for good 
 and all into whatever is to be the principal business of his life, 
 the student still wants an interval to complete the furniture 
 of his mind, by study of a freer, larger, and more independent 
 sort." But fellowships cannot be provided for all, and in this 
 country we have as yet but few. The devotion of the later 
 years of college life to that kind of teaching which makes the 
 increase of knowledge the principal object, and selects also its 
 subjects with special adaptation to the mental characteristics 
 of the learner, furnishes for us the best means, and the only 
 means which is likely ever to be universally available, for 
 supplying that defect in our educational system which must 
 always exist if the transition is to be abruptly made from the 
 strictly disciplinary school to the study of a profession. 
 
 At the very best, however, the studies of a college 
 must be elementary, and a college will be most successful 
 which inspires its students to enter upon some higher 
 course of post-graduate research. Hence Dr. Barnard 
 endeavored from the first to prepare the way for courses 
 of post-graduate instruction on which students should be 
 encouraged to enter by the endowment of fellowships, 
 and for technical schools in which they might prepare 
 themselves for any and all professions. At a very early 
 time in his administration, he began to sketch the outline 
 of a plan under which Columbia College should become a 
 great university. In 1866, he recommended the immedi- 
 
400 MEMOIBS OP 
 
 ate establishment of a School of Civil Engineering to be 
 attached to the School of Mines, and ultimately Schools 
 of Practical Astronomy; of Commerce; of Architecture; 
 of Mechanics, Physics, and Chemistry, applied to the Arts, 
 Agriculture, and Machinery; of Political and Civil His- 
 tory; of Philosophy and of Philology. At a later time he 
 added to these the Schools of Comparative Philology, 
 Archaeology and Ancient Art, the Fine Arts, Ethnol- 
 ogy, Anthropology, Bibliography, Library Economics, and 
 the Science of Education. In 1871, two prize fellow- 
 ships of the annual value of $500 were established, to be 
 awarded to the most meritorious students of letters and 
 science in the graduating class of each year; and after 
 an experience of fifteen years, it appeared in 1886 that 
 nineteen prize fellows had been appointed whose career 
 had amply justified the wisdom of the system. In 1880, 
 it was announced that post-graduate instruction would be 
 given in the classics, mathematics, astronomy, chemis- 
 try, geology, mineralogy, history and political science, 
 philosophy, the English language and literature and 
 the language and literature of France, Germany, Spain, 
 and Italy. In the same year was established the School 
 of Political Science, which has certain obvious affinities 
 with the School of Law, but is not a professional school. 
 The subjects of instruction in the first year of the School 
 of Political Science were placed among the elective studies 
 of the Senior year in the undergraduate department, but 
 the remainder of the course was properly restricted to the 
 graduate department. In order to encourage the gradu- 
 ate fellows of the College, Dr. Barnard earnestly recom- 
 mended that they should be employed as assistant teachers 
 in the undergraduate department; and he urged his rec- 
 ommendation both on the ground that such assistance 
 was necessary to the relief of professors in the instruc- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 401 
 
 tion of large classes of undergraduates, and also on 
 the ground that a student who has himself but recently 
 emerged from the position of an undergraduate is pecul- 
 iarly well qualified to assist his juniors in the studies 
 which he himself has recently passed through. On this 
 point he quoted the following passage from a report of 
 the Faculty of Yale College which had been made nearly 
 half a century before : 
 
 There is wanted, on the one hand [says the report], the 
 experience of those who have been long resident at the institu- 
 tion, and on the other, the fresh and minute information of 
 those who, having more recently mingled with the students, 
 have a distinct recollection of their peculiar feelings, preju- 
 dices, and habits of thinking. At the head of each great divis- 
 ion of science, it is necessary that there should be a professor 
 to superintend the department, to arrange the plan of instruc- 
 tion, to regulate the mode of conducting it, and to teach the 
 more important and difficult parts of the subject. But stu- 
 dents in a college who have just entered on the first elements 
 of science, are not principally occupied with the more abstruse 
 and disputable points. Their attention ought not to be solely 
 or mainly directed to the latest discoveries. They have first 
 to learn the principles which have been in course of in- 
 vestigation through successive ages and have now become 
 simplified and settled. Before arriving at regions hitherto 
 unexplored they must pass over the intervening cultivated 
 ground. The professor at the head of the department may 
 therefore be greatly aided, in some parts of the course of 
 instruction, by those who are not so deeply versed as himself 
 in all the intricacies of the science. Indeed, we doubt whether 
 elementary principles are always taught to the best advantage 
 by those whose researches have carried them so far beyond 
 these simpler truths that they come back to them with reluc- 
 tance and distaste. Would Sir Isaac Newton have excelled all 
 others of his day in teaching the common rules of arithmetic ? 
 Young men have often the most ardor in communicating famil- 
 iar principles, and in removing those lighter difficulties of the 
 
 2D 
 
402 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 pupil which, not long since, were found lying across their own 
 path. 
 
 "No argument," said Dr. Barnard, " could apparently 
 be more convincing in favor of the system which we have 
 recently adopted here." 
 
 Throughout the whole period of his administration as 
 President of Columbia College, Dr. Barnard steadily 
 looked forward to the expansion of the College into an 
 university; but the American university of the future, 
 as he had come to conceive it, was not to be merely an 
 association of schools for students of the so-called learned 
 professions. He insisted that the exclusion of scien- 
 tific schools from the university organization would be 
 unnatural and irrational, because the distinction is founded 
 on tradition and not on culture. He maintained also that 
 it would be at once a practical and an economic error 
 which must be wholly avoided; in 1882, he had the satis- 
 faction to congratulate the Trustees that the College had 
 already assumed the character and functions of an univer- 
 sity, while its university expansion had not in any man- 
 ner impaired its usefulness or diminished its attractiveness 
 as a school for undergraduates. Nevertheless, as the ideal 
 of the university was gradually realized, he began to en- 
 tertain a doubt whether it might not be advisable to 
 abandon the undergraduate department. In his last two 
 reports to the Board, he discussed that question, without 
 at first committing himself to the opinion that the abandon- 
 ment of the School of Arts was necessary, but rather sug- 
 gesting certain advantages in its continuance. Thus in 
 1887, after stating the progress which had been made in 
 the graduate department, he proceeded to say: 
 
 That this superior department of instruction must constitute 
 hereafter the main business of the College, becomes every day 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 403 
 
 more obvious. The field is one which is not as yet in this 
 city, or even in this country, adequately occupied. It is a 
 field in which the importance of judiciously applied effort is 
 every day growingly felt. Each year a constantly increasing 
 number of young men are looking round for aids in the pur- 
 suit of knowledge superior to those which our colleges afford ; 
 and each year sees a larger and larger proportion of them, dis- 
 satisfied with the imperfect facilities which they find at home, 
 resorting to the great universities of Germany to obtain what 
 they need. The students of the University of Berlin alone 
 number at present more than five thousand ; and of these sev- 
 eral hundred are temporarily expatriated Americans. Leipzig, 
 Vienna, Gottingen, Heidelberg, Tubingen, Bonn, and many 
 others, draw also their considerable quotas of our youthful 
 countrymen. This deplorable exodus can only be arrested by 
 providing here the attractions which are so abundantly offered 
 in foreign lands. These attractions will unquestionably be 
 provided here at home, and in this city will be provided by 
 Columbia College. It is a noble and magnificent task which 
 our institution has before her, and it is one which will here- 
 after throw into shadow all that she has accomplished in her 
 past honorable history. 
 
 An indication that our Trustees are beginning to be awake 
 to the urgency and the importance of this task, is made mani- 
 fest by the fact that there is now pending before the Standing 
 Committee on the Course of Instruction, a resolution which sug- 
 gests the immediate adoption of energetic measures to lift the 
 whole plane of instruction here to the level of the university 
 standard. The resolution even suggests, inferentially at least, 
 the expediency of abandoning the undergraduate School of 
 Arts entirely, and devoting the whole strength of the institu- 
 tion to its superior work. This, however, would be by no 
 means a necessity. The maintenance of the inferior school 
 would not in any manner interfere with the university system ; 
 while it might rather aid the latter by serving to it as a valu- 
 able feeder. It might aid it also in another way. Since to 
 discontinue the undergraduate department would cut off the 
 revenue now derived from it, the Trustees, in adopting such a 
 measure, must be prepared to relinquish a corresponding amount 
 
404 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of their present annual income. A better plan would be to re- 
 tain this income, but to devote it to the maintenance of fel- 
 lowships to be bestowed on promising young men pursuing 
 university studies. It is by some such measure as this that 
 the success of the university system can be most certainly and 
 most expeditiously secured. The Trustees of the Johns Hop- 
 kins University have recognized this truth, and have acted 
 accordingly. The gratifying success which has attended the 
 efforts of that corporation to encourage university study in 
 this country, has been unquestionably attained by the creation 
 of twenty fellowships of the value of five hundred dollars 
 each per annum, to be freely offered to graduates of all colleges 
 equally, and bestowed on the most meritorious among the 
 competitors. 
 
 The undergraduate department of Columbia College yields 
 a revenue of thirty thousand dollars per annum. Were that 
 wholly devoted to the support of fellowships, it would main- 
 tain no fewer than sixty ; and the consequence would be the 
 creation here of a nucleus which would draw around it in a 
 very few years a student body rivalling in numbers some of 
 the great universities of the European continent. 
 
 It is to be hoped that the committee who have in charge 
 the resolution above referred to may see their way towards 
 recommending, as the first and most efficacious step toward 
 advancing this institution to the grade of a true university, 
 the establishment of a fellowship system like this ; a system 
 which, if not embracing at once so large a number as sixty, 
 may at least be sufficient to compare favorably with the 
 example set at Baltimore. 
 
 In his last report (for the year ending in June, 1888), 
 in referring to a resolution pending before the Board, 
 he took higher ground by urging that it would be of 
 advantage to the educational interests of the country if 
 a large proportion of the existing colleges could be sup- 
 pressed ; that it would be no misfortune if Columbia 
 College should cease to exist as a school for undergradu- 
 ate students ; and that the future work of Columbia must 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 405 
 
 be more and more that of a proper university. The 
 passage is as follows : 
 
 There is, in the inevitable drift of things, a tendency to 
 concentrate our energies upon the Graduate Department. 1 
 This has been so distinctly perceived by the Trustees that 
 there has been a distinct effort made from time to time to 
 convert Columbia College altogether into a school of post- 
 graduate instruction. About thirty years ago this effort as- 
 sumed the form of a publicly declared purpose, and after a 
 very elaborate investigation resulted in the constitution of a 
 definite university organization. The time was not ripe, how- 
 ever, for so large a step of progress, and the effort failed to 
 prove a success. Out of it, however, grew the Law School, 
 which, meeting a well-ascertained public want, proved imme- 
 diately successful and has been permanently maintained. Some 
 years later the School of Mines appealed to a public want 
 similarly ascertained, and was accordingly in like manner 
 
 1 The table of attendance in Columbia College and its Associated Schools 
 from 1865 to 1888, which is appended to this chapter, shows the remark- 
 able relative change in the number of undergraduate collegians compared 
 with that of the professional and post-graduate students which occurred 
 during President Barnard's administration. It is noteworthy that for 
 three years after his presidency began, Dr. Barnard confined his report 
 to the College proper and gave no detailed account of the Schools of 
 Medicine, Law, or Mines. From 1868, when he began to report all 
 departments, to 1888, in which his last report was rendered, the number 
 of students in the College increased from 140 to 233 a gain of 66 per 
 cent, while the total attendance in the professional and post-graduate 
 schools rose from 625 to 1630 a gain of 161 per cent ; or, omitting the 
 Medical School, from 306 to 821 a gain of 168 per cent. To put the 
 comparison in another way : If we omit the Medical School, the under- 
 graduate students in 1868 were 31.4 per cent of the whole number, and 
 in 1888 they were only 22.1 per cent ; or, if we include the Medical School, 
 the proportion of undergraduates fell from 18.3 per cent in 1868 to 12.5 
 in 1888. Nor will it escape observation that the actual as well as the 
 relative number of undergraduates fell steadily every successive year 
 from 298 in 1882 to the close of President Barnard's Presidency in 1888, 
 when the number was 233. With facts like these before him, President 
 Barnard might well say that, "in the inevitable drift of things," there 
 was "a tendency to concentrate their energies on the Graduate Depart- 
 ment." It is not so clear, however, that he desired to change the drift. 
 
406 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 successful. The operations of the institution have in recent 
 years extended over so wide a field that the original college 
 has been entirely overshadowed, and a doubt has been raised 
 whether its usefulness has not ceased. A resolution is now 
 pending before the Board, inquiring whether it is not advis- 
 able that the whole scheme of education in Columbia College 
 should be raised to a higher plane, and this involves the 
 further question whether it is not advisable to discontinue 
 the department of Arts. So long as this question remains 
 under discussion before the governing board, it would not be 
 becoming in the undersigned to pronounce an opinion upon it 
 here. He may be permitted, however, to say in this place that, 
 if the question were merely as to the sufficiency and impor- 
 tance of the work proposed, there could be no doubt that our 
 Faculties could find ample and adequate occupation if they 
 were confined to giving instruction exclusively to graduate 
 students. On the other hand, such has been the excessive 
 multiplication of undergraduate colleges in our country in 
 recent years, that the business of those colleges is greatly 
 overdone, and it would certainly be a material benefit to the 
 educational interests of our country, if a large proportion of 
 the existing colleges could be suppressed. From statistics 
 gathered by the undersigned in former years with great labor, 
 it was made manifest that while in the last half century the 
 proportion of students in Arts in American colleges has been 
 gradually but steadily diminishing, the number of colleges 
 has, on the other hand, more than correspondingly increased. 
 Since about 1837 the population of the country has increased 
 fourfold, and the number of colleges threefold, while the num- 
 ber of students in Arts has in the mean time only doubled. In 
 the country generally the number of students under instruc- 
 tion at any given time is in a proportion of about 1 to 2000 
 or 2500. In 1830, the average attendance on the existing 
 colleges was sixty-seven each, and in 1880, about forty each. 
 There is not a State in the Union in which the number of col- 
 leges is not greatly in excess of the educational needs of the 
 population. This city itself may be taken as an illustration. 
 New York has about a million and a half of inhabitants. It 
 should be capable of furnishing, therefore, at the ratio of 1 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 407 
 
 to 2500, six hundred undergraduate students in Arts. This 
 is not a number greater than could be comfortably provided 
 for in a single college. Nevertheless, we have three, not count- 
 ing the minor colleges under the care of the fathers of the 
 Roman Catholic Church. It would not be therefore educa- 
 tionally a misfortune if Columbia College should cease to exist 
 as a school for undergraduate students. The city would still 
 be fully supplied with educational advantages, while there 
 could be no doubt that this institution could be more profitably 
 employed by confining itself to the field of superior education. 
 Whatever be the policy pursued in this matter, nevertheless 
 it is the unavoidable tendency of things to press upon Colum- 
 bia College more and more constantly from year to year the 
 duty of providing for the wants of the superior class of stu- 
 dents, that is to say, the business of proper university instruc- 
 tion. The location of the institution in the greatest city of 
 the continent is peculiarly favorable to such an undertaking, 
 and though the College is not possessed of funds sufficient to 
 enable it to carry out this complete design, it is hardly to be 
 doubted that provision may sooner or later become sufficient 
 to accomplish this object. 
 
 While Dr. Barnard's views of the readjustment of the 
 College course to the necessities of the age were steadily 
 expanding, and while his conception of the development 
 of the institution into a school of universal learning was 
 growing steadily clearer and more practical, he began to 
 ask himself why the benefits of such an education as 
 Columbia was endeavoring to afford should be confined 
 to one-half of the youth of the country. After long 
 reflection, he reached a settled and unalterable conviction 
 that colleges ought to be freely opened to women as 
 well as to men, and from 1879 to 1881, he urgently pressed 
 upon the Board of Trustees the expediency of admitting 
 women to all the departments of Columbia. In this 
 movement he was heartily sustained by the Faculty, and 
 although his success did not correspond either with his 
 
408 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 desire or with his expectation, his agitation of the subject 
 was not unfruitful. 
 
 Until 1879, though the admission of women as students 
 in Columbia had been warmly advocated, the lack of 
 sufficient space in the College buildings had made it 
 impossible to entertain the suggestion. In 1879, that 
 difficulty was removed and Dr. Barnard promptly sub- 
 mitted to the Board of Trustees the question whether a 
 measure which had now become practicable ought not 
 likewise to be deemed expedient. He said : 
 
 The condition of the College is now such as to justify the 
 suggestion of the question whether its advantages should not be 
 opened to young women as well as to young men. This question 
 has been brought to the attention of the Trustees heretofore by 
 outside parties, and the reception which it met has been such as 
 to indicate that the minds of the Board are not favorably pre- 
 possessed in regard to it. There has been hitherto, however, no 
 room for considering it upon its merits ; for, whether regarded 
 favorably or not, so long as the College was confined within its 
 recent narrow accommodations, the measure has been impracti- 
 cable. Not that the admission of young women requires any 
 considerable provision of space greater than that which is 
 necessary for young men only; but that, in arriving at and 
 leaving the building, they need their separate retiring-rooms 
 and cloak-rooms, and no apartments could be found in the old 
 building suitable for this purpose. That difficulty no longer 
 exists. The measure has become practicable. There can be 
 no harm in inquiring whether it is not also expedient. 
 
 In favor of the proposed measure, Dr. Barnard's main 
 contention was that, " in the interests of society, the mental 
 culture of women should not be inferior in character to that 
 of men." Competent persons universally condemned the 
 prevalent education of women in which the useful was 
 subordinated to the ornamental, and what were called 
 accomplishments took the place of solid acquisitions. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 409 
 
 " The demand had been made, and its reasonableness had 
 been generally conceded, that the same educational advan- 
 tages should be offered to young women which young 
 men enjoyed." So far there was agreement, but in the 
 answers to the question, how the demand should be met, 
 there was less unanimity. 
 
 One obvious method of reform would be to improve 
 the female schools, of which there was a sufficient number ; 
 but the radical fault of the existing schools was that they 
 furnished merely a superficial and ornamental education, 
 and, since their instructors could not be expected to rise 
 above their own level, the schools could not be improved 
 except by reconstruction. 
 
 Another method of meeting the demand was to create 
 colleges like Vassar College and Rutgers Female College, 
 of the same form, giving the same instruction and con- 
 ferring the same degrees as colleges for young men. The 
 objection to this method was that such colleges could not 
 be expected to give instruction of equal value with that 
 which might be obtained in the longer established and well 
 endowed institutions which had been provided for men ; 
 and if it were admitted that women had a right to a liberal 
 education, it was illogical not to admit them to the best. 
 
 In England the reasonableness of his view had been 
 tacitly, though only partially, admitted by the creation of 
 Girt on College in the vicinity of Cambridge, in which the 
 studies of the women were the same, and were prosecuted 
 under the same teachers, as in other Cambridge colleges. 
 The results of this experiment had been so successful that 
 funds had been raised for the endowment of a similar 
 college for young women in the city of Oxford ; and in 
 our own country Harvard University had "instituted a 
 regular course of college instruction for women on the 
 same plan as Girton College." 
 
410 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 This solution of the problem, while it conceded that 
 women ought to enjoy equal educational advantages with 
 men, likewise assumed that students of different sexes 
 ought not to attend the same classes. In this country, 
 however, this opinion was not by any means universally 
 prevalent. As a matter of fact, more than half the 
 colleges of the United States admitted young women on 
 the same terms as young men, and allowed them to attend 
 the same classes. The usage was more general at the 
 West than at the East ; but even at the East, it had been 
 successfully adopted in the universities of Cornell and 
 Syracuse in the State of New York, in the Boston Univer- 
 sity, Massachusetts, and in the Wesleyan University, Con- 
 necticut ; and even Yale College admitted young women 
 to its School of Fine Arts. Excluding the educational 
 institutions of the Roman Catholic Church, there were 
 355 colleges in the country ; and of these, 183 were open 
 to students of both sexes. 
 
 In many of these colleges [said Dr. Barnard] the students 
 are permanently resident, separate buildings being provided 
 for the female students. The Sage College at the Cornell 
 University, founded by the liberal friend of education whose 
 name it bears, is a splendid edifice erected for this purpose. 
 In others, as at Syracuse, the students of both sexes, with few 
 exceptions, attend at the college only during the day, and out 
 of class hours reside at home or in private families. This 
 arrangement relieves the instructors of responsibility for 
 general supervision, and leaves no room for the occurrence 
 of troublesome questions of discipline. 
 
 As to the practicability of adopting this plan in our college, 
 no question will be raised ; but doubts may be entertained as to 
 its expediency. It would be difficult, nevertheless, to suggest any 
 reason which will bear very close examination, why it should 
 not be adopted. The admission of young women into the 
 classes would not in any manner interfere with or embarrass 
 the processes of instruction as they are now conducted. No 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 411 
 
 modification of the arrangements of the class-rooms would be 
 necessary. So many more units would simply be added to the 
 number, and so many more names to the class roll. In every 
 scholastic exercise the young women would be regarded as the 
 young men are regarded merely as students. 
 
 What objection could be urged against the measure ? 
 First, and chiefly, that it would be an innovation upon 
 immemorial usage ; but this objection represented a mere 
 prejudice of conservatism, which "never fails to rise up 
 against novelties, no matter how cogent the arguments by 
 which they may be recommended." 
 
 A more plausible objection was raised upon the ground 
 that the average female intellect is inferior to that of the 
 other sex, and that the association of men and women in 
 the same classes must therefore have a tendency to depress 
 the standard of scholarship. To this Dr. Barnard replied 
 that experience had proved the contrary, since the practical 
 effect of the system where it had been adopted had in- 
 variably been rather to raise than to depress the general 
 average of scholarship. At Cornell University, for ex- 
 ample, where the system had been in operation for seven 
 years, the requirements of admission had been twice 
 raised and the term examinations had been made steadily 
 more and more rigorous; yet the number of under- 
 graduates who dropped out of the course had been 
 diminished from 26 to 16 per cent per annum of the 
 whole number of students; no young woman had been 
 dropped from the rolls through failure at an examination ; 
 and, according to a statement recently printed, the last 
 seven years " had witnessed a marked improvement in the 
 quality of the whole institution." 
 
 Another objection to the plan was that the regular 
 course of college study was too severe for the delicate 
 constitutions of young women. That might be true, but 
 
412 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 it was likewise true that the course of college study is too 
 severe for some young men, and it was very doubtful 
 whether the studies of a regular college course were more 
 exacting or more exhausting than those which the " finish- 
 ing" school for young women usually heaped upon its 
 victims. It was " inconceivable that the exercise of the 
 mind upon the solution of an algebraic problem or the 
 interpretation of a passage in Homer could be more 
 exhausting than a similar exercise through French ir- 
 regular verbs, or even so much so as the confinement of 
 hours daily in bending wearily over the drawing-table, or 
 drumming on an ill-tuned piano." Of course, excessive 
 study is injurious to young persons of either sex ; but the 
 assumption that the study required of a young woman by 
 a regular college course would be excessive, was a mere 
 assumption which experiment had nowhere verified. 
 
 In favor of the proposed plan, Dr. Barnard urged that 
 " the presence of young women in colleges is distinctively 
 conducive to good order. The complete isolation of young 
 men from all society except their own tends to the forma- 
 tion of habits of rudeness and to disregard of all the 
 ordinary proprieties of life." The presence of women in 
 colleges counteracts this evil tendency, as Dr. Barnard's 
 own observation and experience had proved. The elder 
 Silliman, during the entire period of his career as a pro- 
 fessor in Yale College, had admitted young women to his 
 lecture courses ; Dr. Barnard himself had invited women 
 to attend his lectures in the University of Alabama, and 
 in both cases the results had made it evident that the 
 presence of young women exerted a salutary moral in- 
 fluence. If it were feared that, although the association 
 of young women with young men might be beneficial to 
 the ruder sex, it might be less advantageous or even 
 prejudicial to the gentler sex, that the delicacy and re- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 413 
 
 serve which are so great a charm in the female character 
 would be worn off in the unceremonious intercourse of 
 academic life, and that a girl who entered college with 
 shrinking modesty, would be likely to come out a romping 
 hoyden or a self-asserting dogmatist, the apprehension 
 had not been justified by experience either in the high 
 schools of the country or in the numerous colleges in 
 which students of both sexes are admitted. 
 
 Another and final objection, which was very real though 
 seldom mentioned, was the probability of sentimental en- 
 tanglements. It was supposed that young people of both 
 sexes, if associated in the same institution and permitted 
 to meet frequently and familiarly, would be more occupied 
 with each other than with their books. But here again 
 an appeal to experience would show that the danger is 
 exaggerated, and that "the comparative freedom of school 
 intercourse tends far less to excite the imagination of 
 youth than the more constrained and less frequent op- 
 portunities of converse afforded in general society." Be 
 that, however, as it might, the argument would not apply 
 to Columbia College, where there would be no opportunity 
 of intimate association. The students would attend only 
 during a limited number of hours which would be en- 
 tirely occupied by the exercises of the day ; there would 
 be no common halls of assembly ; the young women would 
 pass directly from their tiring-rooms to the lecture-rooms ; 
 at the close of their recitations they would retire in the 
 same way, and throughout the college course they would 
 be resident in their own homes, and surrounded by every 
 protecting safeguard that parental solicitude could provide. 
 
 The question which Dr. Barnard thus propounded to 
 the Board seemed to him to be simply this: Whether it 
 was really desirable that the educational advantages 
 offered to young women should be equal to those which 
 
414 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 are offered to young men. If it was, young women ought 
 not to be excluded from the institutions where such advan- 
 tages are to be had; if it was not, the whole proposal 
 must be abandoned. If the measure should be approved, 
 he did not expect it to be followed by an immediate influx 
 of female students, because, for years to come, very few 
 women would be prepared to avail themselves of the op- 
 portunity; but he expressed the conviction that, after a 
 time, "a very considerable attendance might be antici- 
 pated, and thus the College would enter upon a new and 
 important field of usefulness." 
 In conclusion he said : 
 
 Whatever may be the fate of the present suggestion, the 
 undersigned cannot permit himself to doubt that the time will 
 yet come when the propriety and the wisdom of this measure will 
 be fully recognized ; and as he believes that Columbia College 
 is destined in the coming centuries to become so comprehensive 
 in the scope of her teaching as to be able to furnish to in- 
 quirers after truth the instruction they may desire in whatever 
 branch of human knowledge, he believes also that she will be- 
 come so catholic in her liberality as to open widely her doors 
 to all inquirers, without distinction either of class or of sex. 
 
 In 1880, Dr. Barnard renewed his discussion of the sub- 
 ject in an elaborate account of Queen's College, London, 
 the alumni of which are admitted to examination and take 
 their degrees in the London University on equal terms 
 with the students of King's College ; of Newnham Hall, 
 Cambridge, the students of which were allowed to attend 
 the public lectures of university professors and to take 
 the same honor examinations as students of other col- 
 leges ; of Lady Margaret Hall and Somerville Hall, 
 Oxford, whose students pass through the same course, 
 though without any university privileges, as the male 
 students; of Boston University in this country, "which 
 admits young women as freely as Oberlin or Antioch or 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 415 
 
 Berea" ; of the University of Michigan, which had yielded 
 unwillingly to a popular demand, and which, since the ad- 
 mission of women, had been more prosperous than ever 
 before ; and finally, of the new experiment of the same 
 sort which had been recently begun at Harvard. 
 
 In 1881, he again pressed upon the Trustees the impor- 
 tance of admitting women to the privileges of the College. 
 From many quarters, he said, the anxious inquiry had 
 been addressed to him, Will not Columbia College do 
 something for the higher education of our girls ? The 
 interest in the question had become deep and extensive, 
 and it was constantly growing. The logic of events had 
 been operating slowly but with irresistible force. The 
 objections to the admission of women to the colleges 
 had one by one been abandoned, and it had been clearly 
 seen that in order to make adequate provision for the 
 education of women, it was not necessary that new in- 
 stitutions should be founded at an enormous cost, but 
 only that the existing institutions should be wisely and 
 judiciously used. The progress of public opinion had 
 been exhibited in the tentative experiment of the so- 
 called Harvard "Annex"; and it was a remarkable fact 
 that, in England, Newnham Hall had been admitted by 
 the Senatus Academicus of the University of Cambridge 
 to every privilege for which it had applied. The substan- 
 tial triumph of Newnham and Girton had made a sensible 
 impression upon the public mind in this country as well 
 as in England, and the leading American journals, without 
 exception, had expressed their satisfaction at the event. 
 In short, the drift of public sentiment was steadily towards 
 the opening of all institutions of learning to female students, 
 and Dr. Barnard strenuously urged that Columbia College 
 should at once comply with what he deemed to be a just 
 and reasonable popular demand. In concluding, he said : 
 
416 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The time seems to have fully come when Columbia College 
 should feel herself urged by every motive of expediency or 
 duty to do her part in carrying forward this noble and benefi- 
 cent work. The public mind is prepared for it; a large 
 number it is believed a majority of our most enlightened 
 fellow-citizens eagerly demand it ; the members of our Faculty 
 without exception favor it ; our circumstances are such as to 
 make it easily practicable. If in any minds there are still 
 objections to the system which elsewhere exists, under which 
 young women are withdrawn from their homes to be gathered 
 together in 'numbers in academic boarding-houses, such objec- 
 tions can have no application here, since the young women 
 received as students at Columbia College will still reside, as 
 the young men do now, under their parents' roof, and will 
 continue to be surrounded by all the beneficial influences of 
 domestic society. If there are any who except to the arrange- 
 ment under which, as at University College, London, and at 
 the Boston, Cornell, and Michigan universities in this country, 
 young men and young women assemble to receive instruction 
 in the same class-rooms and at the same hours, their scruples 
 may be removed by adopting here the plan of the Harvard 
 "Annex," and holding the exercises for the two classes of 
 students separately. The Faculty of the College are ready 
 for either plan, although the second would impose upon them 
 a very unnecessary increase of labor. Indeed, they are more 
 than ready, for there can be no doubt that they are prepared, 
 and are quite disposed, if necessary, to organize a scheme for 
 the instruction of women in all the subjects of the College 
 course, independently altogether of the Board of Trustees; 
 and that they would do so, could a committee of citizens be 
 found here as at Cambridge, willing to attend to the nec- 
 essary business arrangements, and to provide rooms for the 
 exercises near the College, if the use of the College class- 
 rooms should be denied them for the purpose. Such a scheme 
 has been a subject of conversation among members of the 
 Faculty on many occasions during the past year; and it 
 may probably be carried into effect at no distant day, unless 
 the occasion for it shall cease to exist in consequence of the 
 admission of women as students to the College itself. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 417 
 
 When this subject was first brought to the notice of the 
 Trustees, in 1879, it failed to be taken into serious considera- 
 tion ; yet it is known that the proposition was not unfavorably 
 regarded by some members of the Board, and it is not believed 
 that any were unalterably opposed to it on principle. What- 
 ever objections may have been entertained in regard to it are 
 believed to have related to matters of detail, such as the con- 
 struction of our buildings, and the capacity of our lecture-rooms, 
 rather than to considerations of a more serious nature. It is 
 believed, however, and it can be easily proved, that all such sup- 
 posed difficulties are imaginary, and that the proposed measure 
 can be carried into effect without the slightest inconvenience. 
 
 In the first mention of the subject, in the report of the year 
 above named, the opinion was expressed that, even in case of 
 an immediately favorable action by the Trustees, some years 
 must elapse before any considerable number of young women 
 would be prepared to take advantage of the opportunities thus 
 opened to them. Such an opinion would not be justified by 
 the state of things existing at the present time. The under- 
 signed has reason to believe that within the past two years 
 the number of young women who have turned their attention 
 to classical studies has greatly increased ; and that there are 
 now not a few of suitable age in our city who are so well up in 
 their Latin and Greek, that they could probably pass without 
 difficulty the entrance examinations. It is believed, therefore, 
 that the consequence of opening the College to the admission 
 of women would be an early and very material increase in the 
 number of our students, which would be attended with an 
 augmentation of the revenue from tuition fees, amounting in 
 the course of about four years to not less than ten, and probably 
 more than fifteen, thousand dollars per annum. 
 
 The measure proposed is therefore recommended not only 
 by the consideration that it is right in itself and that it will 
 greatly increase the usefulness of the College, but also because 
 it will be advantageous financially. And it has the further 
 recommendation that, being in the direction of manifest des- 
 tiny, to accept it promptly would be a graceful act ; while to 
 lag behind the spirit of the age in regard to it, would be only 
 to be coerced after all into accepting it at last, ungracefully. 
 2i 
 
418 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 In conclusion on this subject, the undersigned can only re- 
 peat the conviction expressed in his former report, that the 
 question here considered is in this institution only a question 
 of time ; and that, whatever may happen this year or the next, 
 Columbia College will yet open her doors widely enough to 
 receive all earnest and honest seekers after knowledge, without 
 any distinction of class or sex. 
 
 In 1882, though Dr. Barnard had abandoned the hope 
 of living to see women admitted on an equal footing 
 with men to all the departments of Columbia College, he 
 once more put on record his unalterable conviction that 
 it ought to be done. 
 
 In former annual reports, the undersigned has expressed 
 to the Trustees his views of the wisdom and the justice of 
 extending the educational privileges of the College to young 
 women as well as to young men. It is not his intention to 
 reopen the argument at this time ; but it is due to consistency 
 to say that his convictions on this subject remain unchanged, 
 or rather that they have been confirmed and strengthened by 
 observation of the results of the experience of other institu- 
 tions in our own country and abroad which have opened their 
 doors impartially to students of both sexes, and of the rapid 
 and extraordinary change of sentiment in regard to this ques- 
 tion which has been going on in recent years among our fellow- 
 citizens. This has been noticeable, not in New York only, 
 but throughout the country. Those of the colleges of our 
 country, and of our own section of the country, which have 
 been for some years engaged in testing by experiment the 
 feasibility of this plan of education, though some of them, 
 like the University of Michigan, accepted it reluctantly and 
 with serious misgivings, express themselves, from year to year, 
 more and more content with the results results which they 
 have found to be not only reassuring but gratifying. Reports 
 from England inform us that the plan is meeting the best 
 expectations of its friends at Cambridge and in London. The 
 fifteen universities of Italy are accessible to men and women 
 equally, and the same thing is said to be true of the univer- 
 sities of Eussia. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 419 
 
 The Executive Committee of tlie University Convocation, 
 a gathering annually held at Albany under the auspices of 
 the Regents of the University of the State, have placed the 
 question of the opening of the colleges to women among the 
 topics to be discussed at the ensuing meeting of the Convoca- 
 tion in July next, and have extended to the undersigned an 
 invitation to be present and to participate in the discussion. 
 The Secretary of the Board of Regents, Dr. David Murray, 
 himself an educator of large experience, and a recognized 
 authority on all educational questions, in communicating the 
 invitation, remarks that "this is a subject in which all the 
 colleges of New York are deeply interested"; showing that 
 it has been agitating opinions extensively among those who 
 direct our system of superior education. 
 
 In the city of New York no one can have failed to remark 
 the growth of interest in the subject during the past year. 
 The conviction of the justice and expediency of offering equal 
 educational advantages and more than that, the same iden- 
 tical educational advantages to the youth of both sexes, 
 has been rapidly diffusing itself among all classes of our 
 fellow-citizens, and has penetrated at length profoundly the 
 most highly cultivated and refined circles of New York society. 
 A conviction so widely extended and entertained by so many 
 among the thoughtful and judicious who, in any community, 
 are the recognized leaders of public opinion, cannot, whatever 
 may be the subject to which it relates, but have a substantial 
 foundation in reason. And such an opinion prevalent among 
 persons so worthy of consideration for character and social 
 position cannot fail to command respect, and when it relates 
 to a matter of public policy cannot fail in the end to accom- 
 plish some practical results. Columbia College may not in 
 our own day be opened to the admission of women ; but that it 
 will be so in that better coming time which awaits another 
 generation, appears to the undersigned to be as certain as any- 
 thing yet beneath the veil of the future can be. 
 
 Dr. Barnard's effort to have the privileges of Columbia 
 College thrown freely open to women, unsuccessful though 
 it seemed to be, was by no means fruitless. In accordance 
 
420 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 with his recommendations, women were permitted, with 
 the consent of the professors, to attend the lectures, but 
 were not admitted to matriculation or examination. It 
 was found, however, that even this privilege was contrary 
 to the statutes, which forbade attendance on the College 
 course to all but matriculated students. The Trustees 
 were therefore under the necessity of taking some deci- 
 sive action. They were not yet prepared to accept Dr. 
 Barnard's views of " co-education," nor were they willing 
 to refuse their countenance and assistance to the advo- 
 cates of the higher education for women. They therefore 
 resolved on June 8, 1883, that a course of collegiate study, 
 equivalent to the course given to young men in Columbia 
 College, should be offered to such women as might desire 
 to avail themselves of it. This course was to be pursued 
 outside the College, but under the direction of the Faculty. 
 Though women were not to be admitted to any of the 
 College classes, they were to be allowed to take the regu- 
 lar examinations, and when they should have successfully 
 passed all examinations during a period of four years, they 
 were to receive the Bachelor's Degree. During the next 
 five years twenty-eight women were enrolled under these 
 conditions ; but the system, if it could be called a system, 
 was a signal failure. It could hardly have been other- 
 wise. The women were admitted to the same exami- 
 nations as the men, while they had none of the privileges 
 of instruction which the men enjoyed, and the exami- 
 nations were naturally and necessarily prepared with 
 reference to class instructions from which women were 
 excluded. The professors did what they could to assist 
 the women by announcing the general topics of examina- 
 tion and directing them to books of reference. Dr. Bar- 
 nard also frequently intervened with advice and encour- 
 agement ; but the arrangement was a mere makeshift 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 421 
 
 and had no success. After five years it was found that, 
 although one woman was admitted to a special degree of 
 L.H.B., not one had been able to take the regular degree 
 of Bachelor of Arts. 
 
 In March, 1888, a memorial was presented to the Trus- 
 tees, proposing the establishment of an institution in con- 
 nection with the College and on the same general plan 
 as the " Annex " at Harvard University. The memorial 
 was carefully and favorably considered, and the request of 
 the memorialists was granted, substantially on the fol- 
 lowing conditions : The students of the Annex were to 
 pursue their collegiate studies in a building, near the 
 College, to be provided by the friends of the movement at 
 their own expense and to be used exclusively for purposes 
 of instruction, not for the boarding or lodging of students. 
 The property of the institution was to be held, its affairs 
 were to be managed, and the funds to meet its entire 
 expenses were to be provided, by an incorporated associa- 
 tion, the trustees of which, as well as the name of the 
 institution, its constitution and its regulations, were to 
 be subject to the approval of the Trustees of Columbia. 
 The women were to pursue the same academic course, 
 and to enjoy the same advantages of tuition by the same 
 professors and other instructors as the undergraduates of 
 Columbia, under such arrangements as to prevent inter- 
 ference with the men's classes. 1 The examinations for 
 entrance and all term examinations were to be conducted 
 by persons appointed by the Trustees of Columbia, and 
 
 1 At the present time (1895) the professors are not necessarily instruc- 
 tors in Columbia, but they must be approved by the President of Colum- 
 bia. Under this arrangement, one woman has been appointed Dean and 
 another woman has been appointed Professor. Barnard College, as the 
 Annex is now called, has recently assumed the support of three profes- 
 sorships at Columbia College, the College Faculty rendering equivalent 
 service in the classes of Barnard. 
 
422 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 all degrees were to be conferred by Columbia. Finally, 
 if the experiment should not be found to work satisfac- 
 torily, the Trustees reserved the right to terminate their 
 connection with it on giving proper notice. 
 
 Through some strange misadventure this action of the 
 Board of Trustees was not communicated to the memo- 
 rialists for several months, but as soon as it was made 
 known to them they took active measures to carry their 
 plans into effect. A provisional act of incorporation was 
 obtained from the University Board of Regents, and in 
 October, 1889, the Annex, as it had been called, was opened 
 under the better name of Barnard College, with a Freshman 
 class of seven members. 
 
 Dr. Barnard did not live to see the opening of the 
 College which bears his name in grateful memory of his 
 efforts in behalf of the admission of women to the highest 
 privileges of education. The establishment of the new 
 college in close connection with Columbia was exceedingly 
 gratifying to him, though it did not realize his wishes. 
 He regarded it as essentially a compromise, satisfactory 
 in so far as it was a movement in the right direction, but 
 of questionable advantage so far as it might prove in the 
 future to be an obstruction in the way of what he deemed 
 to be the better plan of permitting young men and young 
 women to pursue their academic studies, not only under 
 the same instructors, but in the same classes. 1 To a 
 certain degree even this object has been practically 
 attained in the connection of Barnard College with Colum- 
 bia. In certain classes of the Senior year, especially in 
 philosophy and letters, the students of Columbia and 
 Barnard study together ; and many of the post-graduate 
 
 1 The success of Barnard College has fully realized the expectations of 
 its founders, and it is believed that they now (1895) prefer the plan of its 
 organization to that which Dr. Barnard would have chosen. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 
 
 423 
 
 classes of Columbia in the same subjects not, of course, 
 the scientific schools are open to women, subject in each 
 case to the approval of the President of Columbia, the 
 Faculty, and the particular professor whose classes a 
 graduate of Barnard may desire to attend. 
 
 TABLE OF ATTENDANCE IN THE COLLEGIATE DEPARTMENT AND ASSOCIATED 
 SCHOOLS OP COLUMBIA COLLEGE FROM 1865 TO 1888 INCLUSIVE. 
 
 
 COLLEGE. 
 
 3 
 
 S 
 
 POL. SCIENCE. 
 
 POST-GRAD. 
 
 WOMEN. 
 
 LIBRARY EOON. 
 
 I 
 
 MEDICINE. 
 
 GRAND TOTAL. 
 
 1865 . . . 
 
 150 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1866 . . . 
 
 149 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1867 . . . 
 
 139 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1868 . . . 
 
 140 
 
 182 
 
 126 
 
 
 
 
 
 446i 
 
 319 
 
 7651 
 
 1869 . . . 
 
 147 
 
 204 
 
 93 
 
 
 
 
 
 444 
 
 309 
 
 753 
 
 1870 . . . 
 
 129 
 
 230 
 
 79 
 
 
 
 
 
 438 
 
 338 
 
 776 
 
 1871 . . . 
 
 123 
 
 243 
 
 92 
 
 
 
 
 
 458 
 
 327 
 
 785 
 
 1872 . . . 
 
 116 
 
 291 
 
 114 
 
 
 
 
 
 521 
 
 332 
 
 853 
 
 1873 . . . 
 
 123 
 
 371 
 
 136 
 
 
 
 
 
 630 
 
 359 
 
 989 
 
 1874 . . . 
 
 129 
 
 438 
 
 171 
 
 
 
 
 
 738 
 
 387 
 
 1125 
 
 1875 . . . 
 
 152 
 
 522 
 
 209 
 
 
 
 
 
 874 
 
 452 
 
 1326 
 
 1876 . . . 
 
 173 
 
 573 
 
 230 
 
 
 
 
 
 976 
 
 410 
 
 1386 
 
 1877 . . . 
 
 196 
 
 526 
 
 227 
 
 
 
 
 
 949 
 
 439 
 
 1388 
 
 1878 . . . 
 
 233 
 
 462 
 
 255 
 
 
 
 
 
 950 
 
 413 
 
 1363 
 
 1879 . . . 
 
 251 
 
 436 
 
 264 
 
 
 
 
 
 951 
 
 485 
 
 1436 
 
 1880 . . . 
 
 277 
 
 451 
 
 291 
 
 
 
 
 
 1019 
 
 513 
 
 1532 
 
 1881 . . . 
 
 286 
 
 456 
 
 244 
 
 15 
 
 
 
 
 1003 
 
 555 
 
 1558 
 
 1882 . . . 
 
 298 
 
 471 
 
 272 
 
 22 
 
 6 
 
 
 
 1054 
 
 547 
 
 1601 
 
 1883 . . . 
 
 290 
 
 400 
 
 376 
 
 30 
 
 12 
 
 
 
 970 
 
 543 
 
 1513 
 
 1884 . . . 
 
 265 
 
 365 
 
 285 
 
 42 
 
 21 
 
 6 
 
 
 989 
 
 505 
 
 1494 
 
 1885 . . . 
 
 261 
 
 367 
 
 265 
 
 51 
 
 23 
 
 7 
 
 
 935 
 
 490 
 
 1425 
 
 1886 . . . 
 
 247 
 
 344 
 
 236 
 
 73 
 
 24 
 
 13 
 
 
 891 
 
 502 
 
 1393 
 
 1887 . . . 
 
 237 
 
 409 
 
 264 
 
 74 
 
 32 
 
 20 
 
 20 
 
 996 
 
 606 
 
 1602 
 
 1888 . . . 
 
 233 
 
 481 
 
 228 
 
 62 
 
 43 
 
 28 
 
 30 
 
 1054 
 
 809 
 
 1863 
 
 1 In these totals an allowance is made for students enrolled in more 
 than one department. 
 
424 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 Barnard's early education and its defects Education a science and teach- 
 ing an art Who should teach the teachers ? A department of the 
 theory and practice of education proposed European examples 
 General defects of the present system What a true education would 
 be An ideal school. 
 
 IT was not of choice, but because of a necessity which 
 came to him in consequence of a great misfortune, that 
 Dr. Barnard had adopted the profession of a teacher. 
 He had entered upon it with no knowledge of its princi- 
 ples and with no instruction in its practice, taking it for 
 granted that the dry and profitless routine to which he 
 had himself been subjected, was the natural and normal 
 course of education. The work of the teacher in prepar- 
 atory schools, as he had learned it, was to set formal 
 tasks and to hear mechanical recitations in which the 
 memory alone was exercised, while the faculties of obser- 
 vation and understanding were neglected and the judg- 
 ment was ignored. Like many other teachers, he might 
 have continued to perform his duties in the same dry and 
 perfunctory way, if, in the instruction of the deaf and 
 dumb, he had not learned the better method of appealing 
 directly to the intelligence of his pupils. From the 
 beginning of his professorship in Alabama, he followed 
 that method with consistency and success. He did not 
 deny the necessity of class drill, though he thought that 
 its advantages were greatly overestimated, and he con- 
 sidered it at best to be a mere preparation of the mind 
 to receive the freer and more spontaneous instructions 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 425 
 
 of the lecturer. At a later time lie looked back upon 
 his own early education with amazement and disgust. 
 Though he had been a boy of quick intelligence and of 
 unusual quickness of observation, he had been subjected 
 to a slavish drill from which he learned only words that 
 he did not understand. Of the world around him he was 
 taught nothing, and while nearly fifteen years of his life 
 were devoted to a course of study of which the learned 
 languages were by far the greater part, he had never 
 really mastered any language. He had been compelled 
 to study rules of Latin grammar before he had any 
 knowledge of Latin words and sentences. He had then 
 been made to translate Latin prose and poetry into such 
 English as he had picked up in reading and conversation, 
 and to " parse " the words which he translated very much 
 as he might have put together the pieces of a mechanical 
 puzzle. It does not appear that he was ever taught to 
 write a single sentence of Latin prose ; and although, in 
 one school which he attended, and in which the pupils 
 were required to communicate with their instructors in 
 the Latin language, "there grew up," as he afterwards 
 said, "an intelligible conversational dialect which im- 
 proved in elegance as time went on," it may be doubted 
 whether the scholastic " dialect," when most " improved 
 in elegance," was anything better than a barbarous lingua 
 franca. In Greek the same system was pursued, with 
 only this difference, that there was less of it. English he 
 was never taught at all. His study of other modern 
 languages was begun after he had left college, and at a 
 time of life when it was impossible for him to learn to 
 speak them with idiomatic propriety. The net result of 
 these years of laborious but misdirected study was this, 
 that Barnard does not appear in his whole life to have 
 read one line of Latin or Greek for his own satisfaction ; 
 
426 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 that his ordinary English style was loose and diffuse ; 
 and that his use of modern languages was confined to the 
 reading of scientific treatises and was hardly at all avail- 
 able for any other purpose. Now, it is beyond all ques- 
 tion that Barnard had a natural aptitude for the acquisi- 
 tion of languages, and that, if he had been properly 
 taught, or even let alone, he might have formed an ex- 
 cellent English style. It is evident, therefore, that the 
 senseless system of miscalled education to which he had 
 been subjected had operated almost entirely to his disad- 
 vantage in the study of language. Meanwhile, until he 
 became a student at Yale, the study of science had been 
 wholly neglected. It was only a few months before he 
 went up for examination as a candidate for admission to 
 the Freshman class that he mastered the difficulties of 
 arithmetical fractions and proportion ; and it was only 
 through a chance meeting with a peripatetic lecturer on 
 natural science, that he was led to engage in the study of 
 the phenomena of nature for which his whole subsequent 
 life showed that he must, even as a boy, have had extraor- 
 dinary abilities. In the account of his education which 
 he published a few years before his death, he expressed 
 the doubt whether he had ever been educated at all ; but 
 in private he spoke much more strongly, and in view of 
 the facts, it may be doubted whether his early training 
 could properly be called an education, or whether it did 
 not rather suppress the free development of his extraor- 
 dinary natural talents. 
 
 Looking back to his own experience, Barnard saw that 
 education must be regarded as a science and teaching as 
 an art ; and that unless the principles of the science are 
 clearly apprehended, there can be no true art of teaching. 
 Therefore, since it is the function of an institution of the 
 higher learning both to provide competent teachers and 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 427 
 
 to set an example of the best methods of educational train- 
 ing, he concluded that a great institution like Columbia 
 College ought to have a department of the history, theory, 
 and practice of education. This proposal he laid before 
 the Trustees of the College in 1881, and he pressed it with 
 still greater urgency in 1882. He did not ask that the 
 department should at first be organized on any broad 
 basis ; he did not even ask for the establishment of a pro- 
 fessorship ; but he urged the introduction of a course of 
 lectures to be delivered by distinguished teachers upon 
 the particular topics of a prearranged programme. In 
 introducing this subject, Dr. Barnard said : 
 
 It appears to the undersigned that the time has come when 
 Columbia College may very properly make an attempt to 
 supply the serious defect in the educational system of our 
 country which has here been indicated. A department em- 
 bracing the history, theory, and practice of education, though 
 it might not contribute largely to the course of undergraduate 
 instruction, would bring the College more directly, and to 
 more effective purpose, into contact with the outside world 
 than almost any other. It could not fail to enlist the interest, 
 and, with a judicious arrangement of hours, to command the 
 attendance, of every teacher in this great city and its vicinity ; 
 and it would soon become so attractive as to draw many more 
 from a distance. 
 
 In order to insure to a scheme like this the highest degree 
 of success, it would be advisable, in the beginning, not to 
 create a chair to be filled by a single individual, though that 
 has been the plan adopted in the Scottish universities ; but to 
 engage a number of distinguished educators to give lectures 
 upon particular topics according to a prearranged scheme, 
 holding these lectures at night, and only once or twice a week 
 during the academic year. The history of education alone 
 would afford material for a large number of such lectures 
 which would be full of interest and instruction. The impor- 
 tance of an acquaintance with this history on the part of every 
 man who enters this profession with a desire to be useful in 
 
428 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 it, is strongly insisted on by the Hon. Henry Barnard, editor 
 of the American Journal of Education, and formerly United 
 States Commissioner of Education at Washington, who main- 
 tains that there is no department of human existence in which 
 preliminary historical knowledge is so next to indispensable 
 as in this. He says : " By just as much as young teachers 
 are ardently interested, by just as much as their minds are 
 full of their occupation and fruitful in suggestions of principles 
 and methods for prosecuting it, by just so much are they the 
 more liable to reinvent modes and ideas which have been 
 tried and given up before, and thus to waste precious months, 
 and years even, in pursuing and detecting errors which they 
 would have entirely escaped, had they learned the lessons left 
 them by their predecessors." The history of education has 
 been admirably set forth in the comprehensive works of Von 
 Eaumer and Schmidt in German, and in that of Gabriel 
 Compayre in French; but with the exception of the collec- 
 tions of Henry Barnard, embracing translations from Von 
 Eaumer and others, entitled " German Teachers and Educat- 
 ors," originally published in the Journal of Education, we 
 have nothing of a corresponding character in the English 
 language. 
 
 After giving an outline of the lectures of Professor 
 Meiklejohn of the University of St. Andrew and of 
 Professor Laurie of the University of Edinburgh, Dr. 
 Barnard continued : 
 
 The theory of education as given in these university courses 
 embraces an inquiry into the psychology of the growing mind, 
 a summary of the knowledge gathered by observation in regard 
 to this, an attempt to estimate the mode, rate, and kind of 
 growth by experiment; and an inquiry into the relation of 
 various kinds of knowledge to the mind, and the influence 
 of certain thoughts, emotions, and sets of circumstances upon 
 the character. The growth of the power of the senses, the 
 memory, the understanding, the reason, the will, the imagina- 
 tion, the social feelings, are next made subjects of examination. 
 The relation of the religious, moral, and intellectual sides of 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 429 
 
 human nature to each other are discussed, and the best means 
 of building up a sound understanding and the formation of a 
 just habit of action are inquired into. 
 
 The portion of these didactic courses which relates to prac- 
 tice is devoted to an examination of all the processes at pres- 
 ent going on in the schools of the country or the world, the 
 relation of these processes to the growth of the mind, and 
 their value considered as means to an end. These processes 
 are necessarily in great degree dependent upon the subject 
 taught. Thus in regard to languages, the lecturer considers 
 what are the most effectual means of enabling the learner to 
 master them, what are the mental habits to be created, and 
 what the difficulties to be overcome, whether these be inherent 
 in the language itself, or whether they arise out of the cir- 
 cumstances under which the instruction is given; and how 
 these difficulties may be reduced to a minimum. As the object 
 aimed at in teaching the modern languages is not the same 
 which is proposed when the ancient are the subject of instruc- 
 tion, due account is taken of this difference, with the modifica- 
 tion it may suggest of the methods employed. In regard to 
 science, and especially the sciences of observation, the methods 
 which experience in this department of education the best 
 guide has shown to be most advantageous, are explained 
 and illustrated. 
 
 The conditions under which a love of elegant letters may be 
 most effectually awakened are also inquired into. The differ- 
 ent special subjects usually taught in schools such as gram- 
 mar, geography, history, composition are finally considered 
 in detail, and the order in which their several parts may be 
 most judiciously presented to the learner is pointed out. The 
 adaptation of particular subjects or parts of subjects to par- 
 ticular ages is discussed; and the important question, how 
 much should be done by the teacher and how much must be 
 done by the pupil in order that he may profit by the exercise, 
 is carefully considered. The relations of the various subjects 
 of study to the process of mental development are investigated, 
 that is to say, it is inquired what faculties each particular 
 subject is best fitted to call into exercise, stimulate, and 
 strengthen. And finally, the characteristics of the best books 
 
430 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 on the several subjects are distinguished, and the value of 
 text-books as helps to the educational process is discussed and 
 weighed. 
 
 Out of a field so extensive and so fruitful as this, it might 
 be practicable to select the topics of twenty or thirty lectures 
 to be given at Columbia College on certain evenings, at first 
 not more frequently than once a week, to a class formed of 
 graduates and undergraduates, but mainly of teachers belong- 
 ing to the city of New York. The value and usefulness of 
 the course would mainly depend on securing a considerable 
 attendance of these last. In order to be ascertained of this, it 
 would be advisable to circulate a programme showing the sub- 
 jects of the successive lectures of the course, with the names 
 of the lecturers ; and to issue tickets at a merely nominal rate 
 entitling the holders to attend the entire course, with others 
 admitting to single lectures. The course only to be commenced 
 after at least one hundred names have been subscribed. 
 
 The successful accomplishment of the scheme here proposed 
 would naturally open the way to the establishment in our Col- 
 lege of a permanent chair of education, and we should thus 
 enter upon a new field of usefulness not inferior in importance 
 to any we have heretofore occupied. In doing this we should, 
 for a third time, have taken a new departure, and a step in 
 advance of all our contemporaries and competitors. We have 
 created the first and only successful School of Mines upon the 
 continent ; and we have established the only school in which 
 a young man can obtain such a training as may properly fit 
 him for the duties of political life. If into a great national 
 industry, which has heretofore been prosecuted by ignorant 
 and wasteful methods, we have introduced economy and in- 
 telligence, and if in a public service which has been worse than 
 ignorant and wasteful, we have, by the instrumentalities we 
 have created, laid the foundation for a coming substantial re- 
 form, we have in neither of these ways done more to advance 
 the welfare of our own people, or to benefit the world, than 
 we shall have done when we shall have made it possible that 
 those to whose hands is to be entrusted the education of each 
 rising generation, shall be themselves properly educated to 
 their own responsible profession. 
 
FEEDEEICK A. P. BAENAED 431 
 
 The idea of making the philosophy of education a part of 
 our university teaching, and of properly educating men to the 
 business of education, is not one of recent occurrence with the 
 undersigned. It was among the objects particularly pointed 
 out by him in the address in which, seventeen years ago, he 
 inaugurated his connection with the College, as objects which 
 in the future it would become the duty as it would be the priv- 
 ilege of Columbia College to accomplish. The time seems to 
 be at length ripe for the discharge of that duty. Should the 
 opportunity not be improved by us it will doubtless soon be 
 seized by some competitor, and the honorable precedence which 
 is now within our reach will be snatched from us. 
 
 We should make a great mistake if we should regard the 
 inculcation, from a university chair, of the philosophical prin- 
 ciples which ought to guide in the framing of educational sys- 
 tems, as a matter of merely speculative interest. It involves, 
 on the other hand, consequences of the highest practical im- 
 portance. The actual system universally prevalent in our 
 country at the present time is marked by faults, not to say 
 absurdities, of serious gravity, which a discussion of the true 
 principles of educational philosophy could not fail to detect, 
 and which need only to be exposed to be corrected. Unfort- 
 unately the most pernicious of these errors is one of which 
 the injurious results are experienced by that portion of the 
 young who, being destined from childhood to enjoy the bene- 
 fits of what is called a liberal education, are undergoing what 
 is called a preparation for college. For these there is laid 
 down a stereotyped course of study, consisting mainly in a 
 very thorough drill in the elements of the Latin and Greek 
 grammars, and in the perusal of large portions of works of 
 classical antiquity of high literary character. The process 
 commences with most at the early age of eight or ten, and 
 with many, as was the case with the undersigned, as early as 
 six. It is hardly necessary to say that, at this period of men- 
 tal and physical immaturity, the abstractions of grammar are 
 entirely above the comprehension of the infantile intellect. 
 The child who is told that " a substantive or noun is the name 
 of anything that exists or of which we have any notion," or 
 that "prepositions serve to connect words and to show the 
 
432 MEMOIRS OP 
 
 relation between them," would vainly strive to gather a dis- 
 tinct concept from these bewildering propositions; and in 
 point of fact he does not strive to do so. He merely, at the 
 cost of severe and irksome effort, lays away these verbal jingles 
 in his memory, along with cords of equally useless rubbish 
 forced upon him in cruel disregard of his helplessness, or of 
 the unfitness of such intellectual food for his feeble powers 
 of digestion. The theory is, that the nice logical distinctions 
 which are embodied in grammatical definitions, and the com- 
 plicated relations of words and clauses which find expression 
 in the intricacies of syntactical rule, constitute the material 
 for a salutary and strengthening exercise of the reflective 
 faculties, comparison, analysis, judgment, and the rest. The 
 fact is that they do not exercise those faculties at all, since in 
 failing to reach the understanding they fail of the first essen- 
 tial to such a result. Nor is the case much better when we 
 pass from language considered only as an instrument, to the 
 literature of which language is the form. The song of Virgil 
 and the eloquence of Cicero are almost as far above the capac- 
 ity of the juvenile reader, as the logical niceties of grammar 
 are beyond his mental grasp. The consequence is that some 
 three or four years of the most impressible, the most interest- 
 ing, and the most valuable period in the life of a boy whose 
 lot, in an educational point of view, is commonly supposed to 
 be especially enviable, is filled up with an unbroken and dreary 
 monotony of meaningless sounds, which leaves behind it no 
 impression save that which may be produced upon his jaded 
 memory. 
 
 Now, if we consider the case of this boy in the light thrown 
 upon it by the study of psychology, we shall be presently aware 
 that we have begun his education at the wrong end. It is at 
 once illogical and unnatural to attempt to stimulate into activ- 
 ity the reflective faculties of his intellect before he is yet in 
 possession of any considerable stock of knowledge on which to 
 employ them. The comparison of qualities, the study of rela- 
 tions, the combination of different ideas, and the deducting of 
 conclusions are processes which require as their indispensa- 
 ble antecedent condition a considerable acquaintance with the 
 objects of thought themselves on which such processes must 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 433 
 
 necessarily be founded. Moreover, if we will observe the order 
 in which the intellectual faculties spontaneously unfold them- 
 selves when their natural accomplishment is left undisturbed 
 by influences from without, we shall discover that those are 
 earliest awake whose function is to gather the knowledge of 
 outward things. The powers of observation, or the perceptive 
 faculties as they are called, are in the child in the highest 
 state of activity from the earliest period of conscious existence. 
 The restless curiosity of children is proverbial. Everything 
 that is new is interesting to them, and they are never satisfied 
 till they understand it. Since also, at their time of life, most 
 things which they encounter are new, there is no end of the 
 inquiries with which they constantly assail those who are older, 
 and whom they presume to know more than themselves. The 
 conclusion, therefore, which theory and observed facts equally 
 justify and force upon us is that the educational process 
 should commence with the culture of the perceptive powers, 
 and that the earliest years of the child's life should be devoted 
 to the business of storing him, or permitting him to store him- 
 self, with facts of useful knowledge. The studies assigned to 
 him, if studies in the ordinary sense should be assigned to him 
 at all, should be such as to minister to his insatiable desire for 
 knowledge; that is, to keep alive and not to repress those 
 eager faculties which are constantly reaching out to seize upon 
 and assimilate all that is novel in the outward and visible 
 world. A judicious course of culture of such a character pur- 
 sued at this early period of life, whether with or without the 
 aid of books, will impart to the subject of it, not only an im- 
 mense fund of valuable and accurate knowledge which other- 
 wise would be acquired later with labor infinitely greater, or 
 perhaps not acquired at all, but also a habit and a power of 
 exact observation which no amount of labor later in life would 
 be adequate to secure, but which to their possessor are posses- 
 sions of priceless value. 
 
 These acquisitions, the actual course of mental training 
 usually pursued with boys in our preparatory schools does 
 nothing whatever to cultivate. On the other hand, it tends to 
 prevent their attainment. By immuring an unhappy lad within 
 the four blank walls of a school-room, and constraining him to 
 2r 
 
434 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 fasten Ms thoughts upon a series of abstractions to which the 
 power of his intelligence is unequal, we subject his perspec- 
 tive faculties to a long-continued and unnatural inaction, by 
 which, if they are not completely paralyzed, they are certainly 
 dwarfed, and prevented forever from attaining even that de- 
 gree of development which nature alone, unassisted by educa- 
 tional helps, would have given them. The same lad in the 
 out-door air, with his attention intelligently directed to the 
 thousand imperfectly understood objects of interest surround- 
 ing him on every side, would rapidly gather an immense store 
 of valuable facts of knowledge which would be serviceable to 
 him all his life; and, better than that, would acquire those 
 powers of quick discernment, accurate judgment, and prompt 
 decision, which form the most important elements of the 
 intellectual character. 
 
 But if the system commonly pursued in the mental training 
 of our boys, during the period of their preparation for entrance 
 upon the college course, were not condemned for its violation 
 of every sound principle of educational philosophy, it could 
 not escape condemnation when we come to consider its results. 
 Young lads are usually kept in the preparatory schools for at 
 least three years many are there more than twice as long. 
 They will by that time be found to have committed pretty 
 thoroughly to memory the definitions and rules of their Latin 
 and Greek grammars, without very clearly understanding the 
 words in which they are expressed, and to have pretty well 
 mastered the various inflections, regular and irregular, of 
 nouns, adjectives, and verbs; and they will also have suc- 
 ceeded in reading, by dint of incessant resort to lexicons, a few 
 hundred pages of some selected Latin and Greek authors. But 
 none of them will have any proper knowledge of the Latin and 
 Greek languages, or will be able to read with facility Latin or 
 Greek books taken up at random, even the very books and the 
 parts of the books which they have read before. Yet through- 
 out all their school years, their time, their attention, and their 
 almost intermittent labor are given to the study of those lan- 
 guages only. It is true that in the examinations for admis- 
 sion to college, some slight knowledge of a few other subjects 
 is required, but it is universally known that the substantial 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 435 
 
 requisitions are Latin and Greek; and that when these are 
 satisfactory, other matters are easily arranged. Now it is per- 
 fectly certain that no person of ordinary capacity and of toler- 
 ably mature intellect could devote his exclusive attention for 
 four or five years to the study of any language whatever, with- 
 out in the end being able to read it, if not to speak it, fluently. 
 The fact that this never happens with a juvenile school-boy 
 even after seven or eight years of the most careful tuition in 
 the best preparatory schools, is sufficient evidence that there 
 is a grave fault somewhere ; and the fault is very clearly, as 
 has just been shown, in the fact that the subject is presented 
 prematurely, and therefore ineffectually, to a mind which de- 
 mands an aliment of a very different nature. 
 
 But the evil does not end with the imperfect results of this 
 species of preparatory study as tested by the amount of knowl- 
 edge which it secures. The habits of study acquired in the 
 school in which the memory is mainly depended on at the ex- 
 pense of the understanding, are carried into college, and operate 
 throughout the educational course as a drag upon substantial 
 progress. The consequence is, that it continues to be generally 
 no less true of our graduates than it is of boys leaving school, 
 that they are quite incapable of taking up and reading fluently 
 books which they have not read before, in either of the learned 
 languages, nor in many cases even books which have formed 
 the subjects of their daily lessons in their latest college years. 
 It is somewhat surprising that the singular inadequacy of the 
 results obtained in the large majority of cases, after so great 
 an expenditure of time and wearying labor, has not long since 
 attracted attention and challenged inquiry into its cause. Its 
 cause is unquestionably to be found in the fact that the study 
 of the dead languages is usually forced upon lads at an age 
 when their mental development is not sufficiently advanced 
 to enable them to pursue it intelligently ; and more than that, 
 that it is made to crowd out other studies which the mind, in 
 its immature state, finds congenial, and even requires, for the 
 promotion of its healthful growth. No lad of less than four- 
 teen or fifteen years of age is capable of taking up with advan- 
 tage the study of a language so artificial in its structure as the 
 Latin or the Greek ; still less when the method of presentation, 
 
436 MBMOIBS OF 
 
 as is the case in all our schools, inverts the natural order, and 
 substitutes synthesis for analysis. And even an age so ad- 
 vanced as fourteen is too early, unless the previous years have 
 been filled up with a judicious culture, in which the boy has 
 been required to learn nothing which he could not understand, 
 and has been thus led into forming habits of depending on his 
 understanding and not on his memory alone for what he ac- 
 quires. After an adequate period of such earlier culture, there 
 is no sort of doubt that the average boy will be able to acquire, 
 in two years at the outside, a far more satisfactory acquaint- 
 ance with Latin and Greek than is at present the outcome of 
 five or six, commencing from a point as many years earlier. 
 
 The subjects which are best adapted to form the material of 
 this previous culture are those which concern the objects and 
 phenomena of the natural world, beginning with plants, ani- 
 mals, and the materials of which the earth is composed that 
 is to say, with the sciences of botany, geology, and mineralogy. 
 These, from the endless variety of beautiful and curious objects 
 which they present, afford an inexhaustible source of grati- 
 fication and surprise. They arouse curiosity and keep it con- 
 stantly awake ; they satisfy the eager desire to know ; they 
 stimulate the perceptive powers into constant activity, and 
 sharpen the power of quick and accurate observation. As time 
 goes on, they afford to the reflective faculties such gentle 
 exercise as is suitable to their nascent condition; as when, 
 for instance, distinctions of species are recognized by the 
 comparison of individual objects as to their resemblances or 
 differences ; or when, from the study of the qualities of objects, 
 the uses may be discovered to which they are applicable. 
 That these things will interest children of very tender years 
 has been tested abundantly by experiment, and is probably 
 with most persons a certainty founded on their personal recol- 
 lection. The fact that they do so interest them is nature's 
 testimony to the truth that they constitute the intellectual 
 aliment which the infant mind requires for its sustenance and 
 healthy growth. 
 
 To the subjects here specified, which may be called the 
 sciences of classification, may also very fitly be added those 
 which depend on observation and experiment, such as chem- 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BAKNARD 437 
 
 istry and the various branch.es of physics, excluding, however, 
 under this latter head all that transcends the power of direct 
 observation. The first of these classes of sciences deals with 
 visible objects in respect to form, the second to facts and 
 phenomena in reference to law. Experimental illustration of 
 the operation of the laws of nature affords the most fascinating 
 description of entertainment which can be presented to the juve- 
 nile mind. And in addition to the world of novel truths, often 
 startling in their interest, which it offers to the understanding, 
 it affords material admirably suited to the healthful exercise 
 of the reasoning powers, at the moment when they are begin- 
 ning to awaken into life. Moreover, the multiplied examples 
 which these sciences present of conclusions drawn from pre- 
 mises systematically arranged, accustom the mind to habits of 
 correct inference from facts of observation, such as charac- 
 terize those whom we call practical men, or men of sound judg- 
 ment in the affairs of life. 
 
 It would also be highly advantageous if a child at this early 
 period could acquire, by natural means, a familiar knowledge 
 of some one or more of the modern languages of Europe. Not 
 by the method of the schools not by beginning with a weary 
 drill on the abstractions of grammar, followed by a series of 
 laborious text-book readings with the aid of a lexicon ; but by 
 oral lessons in actual speech, in which, from the beginning, the 
 pupil learns to say something significant and to understand 
 something said to him; in which, in short, he acquires a 
 foreign tongue by the same inartificial means by which he 
 acquired his own. This kind of linguistic exercise addresses 
 the powers of observation no less than the natural sciences. 
 The child chops no logic about his words, but picks up only 
 what he hears, and he easily becomes interested in the acqui- 
 sition on account of the large addition which it makes to his 
 power of expression. This study, so pursued, is not only to be 
 recommended for its uses as an instrument of early culture, 
 but because the acquisition to which it leads is of priceless 
 value, and because its attainment in later life is always more 
 difficult and never so nearly perfect. In childhood the organs 
 of speech are flexible and adapt themselves with facility to 
 the peculiarities of pronunciation of foreign tongues. It is 
 
438 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 quite possible, therefore, that an English child may grow up 
 to speak French and German like a native, but this is never 
 true of one whose acquaintance with those languages com- 
 mences in adult life. 
 
 A boy who has been subjected from the age of ten or earlier 
 up to the age of fifteen to a course of training like that here 
 indicated, will, at the end of that time, have acquired an 
 immense stock of ideas which, under our present system, he 
 either never acquires at all, or acquires only as a part of that 
 instruction which colleges are now compelled to give, and to 
 give at the expense of something of a superior order for which 
 they might otherwise have room. But this is not the princi- 
 pal advantage. The principal advantage is that he will have 
 reached this point with a mind so harmoniously developed in 
 all its powers, that it is prepared to take hold successfully 
 of those studies which at present encumber so unprofitably 
 the earlier years, and to master in a comparatively brief time 
 the difficulties of the Latin and Greek. Two years after this 
 period spent on these languages would bring the youth to the 
 age of seventeen, more thoroughly versed in them than is 
 the case with one out of a dozen at present ; besides which his 
 superior command over his faculties, a consequence of the 
 salutary discipline to which they have been subjected, would 
 give him an additional advantage of inappreciable importance. 
 
 It is to be hoped that, with the prevalence of better views 
 of the philosophy of education, this great and long standing 
 abuse may be corrected. It is to be hoped and expected that 
 its reform may be one of the earliest consequences of the 
 inauguration in our country of a systematic course of teaching, 
 of which the science of education may itself be the object. In 
 the mean time, it is somewhat surprising that as yet there has 
 arisen no individual reformer with sagacity enough to see the 
 evil, and with resolution enough to set himself up in defiance 
 of the pernicious traditions of the centuries. Could such a one 
 arise, and should he exhibit for a single year, in practical 
 operation, a system of mental culture adapted to the period 
 of childhood, and founded on truly philosophical principles, 
 the results would be probably surprising, but could not fail to 
 excite admiration and arouse a public opinion which would 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 439 
 
 speedily force the adoption of methods similarly rational in 
 all the schools. 
 
 The success of such a system would depend not merely 
 upon the subjects which should form the substance of its 
 teaching, or the order in which these should be taken up, but 
 still more possibly upon the manner in which they should be 
 presented. 
 
 The "ideal school," as Dr. Barnard proceeded to de- 
 scribe it, was as nearly as possible all that the schools of 
 his own childhood and early youth had not been. 
 
 Let us endeavor to draw an ideal picture of such a model 
 school and of its plan of daily operation. Its site we will 
 suppose to be chosen in the country, near to, but not within 
 the limits of, some pleasant village, in a region diversified 
 with hill and dale, mountain, rock, stream, forest, and cul- 
 tivated land. The building should command an extensive 
 prospect, in which may be distinguished the windings of 
 the streams, the lines of the thoroughfares, the divisions of the 
 lands, the farm-dwellings dotted here and there through the 
 landscape, and the clustered houses of the village in the dis- 
 tance. These features are not suggested as desirable merely 
 because they may add to the attractiveness of the place, though 
 that, of course, will be their natural effect ; but their presence 
 is of some importance because they constitute useful auxilia- 
 ries in the educational plan. The boys on entering the school 
 will require no outfit except plenty of good rough clothing and 
 stout shoes, suitable for outdoor exercise and work. It goes 
 without saying that they are to be supplied with abundance of 
 heathful food, and that satisfactory provision is to be made 
 for their physical comfort in every respect. The school-room, 
 which will become rather a hall for conversation, or a resort 
 where the boys may occupy themselves according to their own 
 pleasure, than a place for teaching in the ordinary sense, will 
 be spacious and airy. Every boy will have his place in it, and 
 will be furnished with a desk of ample dimensions and with 
 abundant materials for drawing, as well as with a capacious 
 cabinet, for the arrangement and preservation of the speci- 
 
440 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 mens in natural history or other interesting objects which he 
 may collect. The boys should be divided into sections of not 
 more than twelve each, and every section should have its 
 instructor permanently attached to it, who will need to be a 
 pretty thorough proficient in every branch of natural science. 
 There should be a large workshop for working chiefly in wood, 
 with competent mechanics in charge, and each boy should have 
 his bench here, with a simple set of the necessary tools. There 
 should also be a laboratory for physics, and one for chemistry, 
 with the same provisions. The institution should be amply 
 supplied with books, but none should be put into the hands of 
 the boys except at their own request, and upon good evidence 
 that they desire to employ them as helps to learning. 
 
 The boys who enter this school are presumed to be able 
 already to read and write. The purpose of the school itself is 
 to acquaint them intimately with the various objects which 
 make up the world in which they live. Let us suppose the 
 first subject which occupies attention to be the vegetable 
 kingdom. Of this the most conspicuous members and the 
 most easily studied are the trees, and it will therefore be 
 best to begin with them ; and here, as elsewhere always, the 
 methods of study will be entirely practical. No time will be 
 spent in talking about trees that is to say, describing them 
 or in reading about trees, or in looking at pictures of trees. 
 The boys will go out together into the fields and woods to find 
 the trees, and to study them where they stand. A large part of 
 every fair day will accordingly be spent in the open air. The 
 boys will go out with their teacher, each being provided with 
 pencils and tablets, and with a tin case suspended from the 
 neck, such as is used by botanists for collecting plants. 
 There should be a hatchet or two in the party, and a work- 
 man with an axe should be in attendance. 
 
 When the party is once afield, the first question asked by 
 the teacher should be: "Is there any boy here present who 
 knows any particular tree when he sees it?" and if so, he 
 should be allowed to look for it and to point it out. Most 
 boys know the fruit trees, and if there are any orchards in the 
 neighborhood, some one will presently discover an apple, a 
 peach, a plum, or a pear. He should then be required to state 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 441 
 
 how he distinguishes it, whether by its size, its general form, 
 its leaf, its blossom, if in the season of bloom, its peculiari- 
 ties of ramification, or by all these things together. Of course 
 if the fruit is present, that is conclusive ; but the other charac- 
 teristics ought not, therefore, to be neglected. If there are 
 any in the party who have not remarked these particulars 
 before, their attention will be thus drawn to them, and the boy 
 becomes thus the instructor of his fellow-pupils. Each mem- 
 ber of the party will then be called on to make with his tablets 
 the best sketch he can of the general form and appearance of 
 the tree. The drawings will probably be rude and inartistic, 
 but they should not be condemned on that account. Improve- 
 ment will come with time, and the ambition to draw well, 
 which will soon be alive, will lead individuals to ask for in- 
 struction in the principles and practice of the art. But the 
 immediate advantage of the exercise is that it fastens the 
 attention of the pupil successively upon the details of the ob- 
 ject, and fixes the picture of it in his mind with an exactness 
 it would not otherwise acquire. Specimens will then be taken 
 of the leaves of the tree, its bark, its flowers, or fruit, if in 
 season, and its wood. These may be examined on the spot, 
 but they must be preserved for future study at home, and in 
 order to form parts of a permanent collection to be kept by 
 each boy. The most interesting of these specimens will of 
 course be the flowers, which, though, as to their general 
 appearance, they are likely to be known to most boys, yet 
 as to the peculiarities of their structure, will never probably 
 have been the subject of particular observation. It will be the 
 business of the teacher to explain this structure, pointing out 
 the distinctive organs and describing their functions in the 
 fecundation of the plant, but he will avoid all generalizations 
 or attempts to classify, leaving such things to the time when 
 the multiplication of examples shall lead the pupil himself to 
 perceive the analogies which indicate unity of plan. 
 
 The study of one tree having been completed, the party will 
 proceed to another, taking always by choice first any one which 
 may be identified by a member of the class. The fruit trees, 
 shade trees, and ornamental trees, being generally familiar, 
 will thus one by one come under examination; after which, 
 
442 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 in proceeding to the forest, it may become necessary for 
 the teacher to name the subject. These tree studies will 
 occupy many days. A single excursion of three or four hours 
 may suffice for a dayj and, in the beginning, a single subject 
 may afford ample material to fill up the time of an excursion. 
 
 After the return to the school, the first attention should be 
 paid to the specimens gathered. The barks should be laid 
 away in trays on the shelves of the cabinets ; the leaves and 
 flowers should be pressed between folds of bibulous paper, and 
 after being sufficiently dried, should be secured in portfolios 
 for future examination and comparison. Specimens of the 
 woods should also be prepared by the boys in the workshops, 
 with the assistance, if necessary, of the carpenters; and for 
 this purpose, as the wood in its green state is not easily 
 wrought, a store of well-seasoned logs of each of the kinds 
 of trees studied should be kept on hand. The boys should be 
 shown the green and dried specimens side by side, that they 
 may be familiarized with the effects of seasoning, and the 
 specimens prepared for their cabinets should show the grain 
 as it appears in sections through the heart, in the direction of 
 the rings, or cut across. The workshop should contain, like- 
 wise, many specimens of sections taken from the trunks of 
 trees, showing the rings of annual growth entire, and the boys 
 may be practised in determining the age of the tree by count- 
 ing these rings. 
 
 The school-room exercises will be all of an equally practical 
 kind. The boys may be called on in turn to draw upon the 
 blackboard outlines of trees, leaves, flowers, or fruits for iden- 
 tification by the rest ; or the teacher may present from his own 
 store, specimens of wood, bark, leaves, or flowers for a similar 
 purpose. As the taste for drawing will be sure to grow with 
 exercise, individuals should be encouraged to prepare at their 
 desks more elaborate sketches ; and in this their inexperience 
 may be aided by suggestions from the teacher, or from a prac- 
 tised drawing-master, of which they will gladly avail them- 
 selves. 
 
 It is intended in these hints only to indicate the kind of 
 exercises which will fill up the indoor hours, and not to con- 
 struct an exhaustive scheme. Moreover, confinement within 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNAKD 443 
 
 doors, except in inclement weather, should not be so protracted 
 as to be wearisome. The school proper may be relegated 
 mainly to the evening hours, and during the day the boys 
 should have ample time to devote to athletic sports in the 
 open air. 
 
 The description of the study of the trees above given is in- 
 tended only as an example of the method. After this class of 
 objects has been exhausted, the same method will of course be 
 extended to the shrubs, the vines, the great variety of annual 
 plants, the mosses, and the fungi. It will also be applied to 
 the animal kingdom, beginning with the larger domestic quad- 
 rupeds, and extending to wild animals, birds, reptiles, insects, 
 and the lower forms of life, including the infusoria, so far as 
 specimens are accessible. And it will further be applied to 
 the study of inorganic nature, excursions being planned for 
 that purpose into regions abounding in minerals and fossils, 
 where the boys may use their hammers and stone chisels, and 
 gather great store of interesting specimens; or to ravines, 
 river bluffs, or artificial deep cuts, where they can observe the 
 outcrop of the strata, and mark their characteristic differences. 
 It will be applied, also, to the study of the earth's surface, with 
 its physical features and its artificial divisions, to the extent to 
 which the observation of the pupils in their various excursions 
 has reached ; thus forming an intelligent introduction to the 
 study of geography. Here will be found the advantage of 
 occupying a position commanding an extended view. Map- 
 drawing will be commenced with rough plots drawn by sight 
 of the grounds belonging to the school itself, then of the ad- 
 jacent fields, with the lines of fences, highways, watercourses, 
 hill ridges, and forest borders, so far as they can be seen. 
 These plots, which will probably be disproportioned, especially 
 in the more distant parts, may afterwards be corrected by 
 visiting the doubtful localities for the purpose ; and they may 
 possibly be reduced to something like exactitude, by regular 
 surveys made with compass and chain, an operation which may 
 be prosecuted at intervals through a period of some weeks or 
 months. 
 
 In the meantime, as the knowledge of the pupils increases, 
 they will become aware of the existence of objects analogous to 
 
444 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 those which they have studied, but which are beyond the reach 
 of their own observation ; and they will desire to learn some- 
 thing about such, especially if there is anything abnormal 
 or otherwise remarkable about them. Thus, when trees are 
 the subject of study, they will hear with curious interest what- 
 ever is told them of the banyan, the sequoia, the olive, or the 
 palm. The teacher's instructions on the subject may be pleas- 
 ingly illustrated by pictures and lantern views. The result 
 will be the growth of such a craving after larger sources of 
 information as books only can satisfy ; and books thus yielded 
 to the demand of the learner, instead of being thrust upon 
 him against his will, will be held by their possessor in an 
 esteem of which the ordinary school-boy of our time, plodding 
 and chiding the weary hours over his Greek grammar from 
 day to day and from week to week, is in general quite incapa- 
 ble of forming a conception. 
 
 In conveying a knowledge of the elements of experimental 
 science, though some modification of method would be neces- 
 sary, the principle would remain the same. The work would 
 be chiefly indoors, but the pupil would be required to experi- 
 ment for himself. He would need to be told what to look for 
 and what to expect, and might require some hints as to the 
 mode of proceeding ; but after his first success, he would get 
 on with very little assistance. The problem of the centre of 
 gravity, for example, or the principles governing the stability 
 of structures, the various cases of equilibrium, and the phenom- 
 ena of elasticity, would require but very simple apparatus to 
 enable the pupil to investigate them to his entire contentment. 
 And so of other things. Here the demand for books would 
 soon be urgent. There is no department of human inquiry in 
 which the youthful experimenter becomes more promptly and 
 completely wrapped up than that which relates to the opera- 
 tion of the forces of nature. There is none in which he finds 
 books more fascinating, or in which he feels a more eager 
 ambition to add some discovery of his own to what he finds in 
 books. 
 
 Thus the system of training of juvenile minds here described 
 in outline, though it begins by discarding the use of printed 
 aids of every kind, is sure to end in producing the most deeply 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 445 
 
 interested and earnest students of books. It constitutes a 
 regular education to the love of books, while that which is 
 at present in vogue too frequently results in creating an 
 utter detestation of the same objects. When we have pre- 
 paratory schools conducted upon principles so sensible as 
 these and it is to be hoped the time is not very far distant 
 when we shall have them we shall have a class of young 
 men entering college, who are not only better prepared to 
 profit by the severer course of study before them than those 
 we have now, but also without doubt better versed in those 
 very languages which at present occupy so exclusively all the 
 earlier years ; so that, with their greater activity of intellect 
 and readiness of apprehension, they are likely to be able in 
 the end, as so few of our graduates are at present, really to 
 read the Latin and Greek fluently. 
 
 In the foregoing sketch of an ideal school, one point is 
 omitted which ought not to pass without notice: it is the 
 place of the modern languages in the plan, and the manner 
 of teaching them. Their place is everywhere, and the manner 
 of teaching wholly colloquial. The teacher will begin by 
 giving names, in the foreign tongue which may be chosen 
 for the time, to all the visible objects around, and requiring 
 the pupils to give them back to him. This should be done 
 not in the manner of a scholastic exercise, but in the course 
 of ordinary conversation, as, for example, while the class are 
 out on their daily excursions in search of knowledge. He 
 will follow this up by asking simple questions or making 
 simple statements about the objects, both in English and in 
 the foreign tongue, which the pupils will repeat after him. 
 He will return frequently to the same questions, till they are 
 understood without the necessity of using the English equiva- 
 lent. He will beware of pressing this exercise too fast. He 
 will make it rather a matter of amusement, and will content 
 himself if in the course of some weeks he is successful in 
 fixing in the memory only a few of such questions with their 
 responses. But progress in the natural process of learning 
 languages is like the growth of a snow-ball rolled along the 
 ground in winter. It increases at first slowly, but after a 
 little time it takes up large additions to its bulk at every turn. 
 
446 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Some simple sentences of necessarily frequent use will soon 
 become familiar, after which they should be used invariably, 
 the corresponding forms in English being discarded. The 
 number of these will rapidly grow, and the substitution of 
 the foreign language for the vernacular altogether for ordinary 
 conversation between pupil and teacher and between the pupils 
 themselves will be only a question of time. The entire feasibil- 
 ity of this plan is made evident by the success of a much more 
 difficult experiment of which the undersigned has been the 
 witness, in a school in which all communication between pupil 
 and teacher was proscribed, except that which was made in 
 Latin. There was certainly for a time a good deal of study 
 over forms of speech, and occasionally a good deal of use of 
 lexicons before speaking ; and, in addition to this, the Latin 
 was not always the best ; but there grew up, nevertheless, a 
 very intelligible conversational dialect, which improved in 
 elegance as time went on. In our schools as at present con- 
 ducted, this mode of teaching the modern languages is imprac- 
 ticable, because so little opportunity is afforded in them for 
 conversational intercourse. With modern and with ancient 
 languages the plan is the same ; and consists, first, of solitary 
 study on the part of the student, and, secondly, of grammati- 
 cal drill and text-book recitation in presence of the instructor. 
 It is capable of improvement only by revolutionizing the whole 
 system, and the system will not be revolutionized until educa- 
 tional methods shall cease to be tolerated which cannot be 
 shown to be in harmony with the principles of a sound phi- 
 losophy. 
 
 Dr. Barnard was one of those strenuous men whose pro- 
 fessional engagements are only the nucleus, so to speak, 
 of far larger activities. Before his election to the Presi- 
 dency of Columbia College he had not only been exten- 
 sively engaged in mathematical studies and original 
 scientific research, but he had made substantial contribu- 
 tions to the literature of the time. As early as 1838, he 
 contributed to Silliman's Journal of Science an ingenious 
 and interesting paper on the Aurora Borealis, which was 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 447 
 
 followed by other contributions to the same journal ; in 
 1842, on An Improvement in Photography ; in 1853, on 
 The Theory of the Hot Air Engine, and on a proposed 
 Modification of Ericsson's Engine; in 1854, a series of 
 papers on The Elastic Force of Heated Air ; also articles 
 on The Comparative Expenditure of Heat and Different 
 Forms of the Air Engine, and on The Mechanical Theory 
 of Heat ; in 1856, An Examination of the Theory which 
 Ascribes the Zodiacal Light to a Ring Surrounding the 
 Earth; in 1860, on The Eclipse Expedition to Cape 
 Chudleigh, Labrador ; in 1863, on The Hydraulics of the 
 Mississippi, and on The Explosive Force of Gunpowder. 
 
 During the same period he contributed the following 
 valuable papers to the proceedings of the American Asso- 
 ciation for the Advancement of Science : in 1858, on 
 The Pendulum, with a Description of an Electric Clock, 
 with Pendulum perfectly Free; in 1859, on The Means 
 of Preserving Electric Contacts from Vitiation by the 
 Sparks, also an extended Report on The History, Methods 
 and Results of the American Coast Survey ; in 1862, on 
 The Mathematical Principles of the Undulatory Theory 
 of Light. 
 
 His publications on educational and other subjects, so 
 far as can now be discovered, included the following : 
 in 1828, an Elementary Arithmetic ; in 1831, a Revision 
 of Bridge's "Conic Sections"; in 1832-1837, numerous 
 papers on Deaf -Mute Instruction; in 1841, an oration 
 on The Claims of Masonry, which attracted much atten- 
 tion in Alabama and secured for him the recognition and 
 support of influential friends ; in 1849, a Defence of the 
 " Sons of Temperance," which had a like effect ; in 1851, 
 an Oration in defence of the Union, of which a condensed 
 report has been given in this volume ; in 1854, a Report 
 on Collegiate Education and an Essay on Art Culture; 
 
448 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 in 1855, Letters on College Government and an Essay on 
 Improvements Practicable in American Colleges ; in 1858, 
 University Education, Relation of University Education 
 to Common Schools, and a Letter to the Board of Trus- 
 tees of the University of Mississippi ; in 1861, a paper on 
 Histological Research at Home and Abroad; in 1863, a 
 Letter to the President of the United States by a Refugee. 
 During the period of his Presidency of Columbia Col- 
 lege, his Annual Reports to the Board of Trustees con- 
 tained nearly every year a discourse on some topic of 
 far-reaching educational interest, and in addition to this, 
 his literary labors were enormous, consisting not only 
 of contributions to the periodicals of the time, but also of 
 important monographs and even of an immense work of 
 a cyclopsedic character. The list, so far as can now be 
 discovered, is as follows : in 1868, an Address before the 
 American Association for the Advancement of Science ; 
 in 1869, a similar Address on the Recent Progress of 
 Science ; in 1871, contributions to Mr. David Dudley 
 Field's Outline of a Code of National Law on " Money, 
 Weights and Measures, Longitude and Time, and Sea- 
 Signals " ; in 1872, a pamphlet on Modern Industrial 
 Progress; in 1873, a bulletin of the American Metrological 
 Society ; in 1874, a pamphlet on International Coinage ; 
 in 1876, two articles in Harper's Monthly on The First 
 Century of the Republic ; in 1877, a brochure on a New 
 Electoral System; in 1879, a paper on The Possibility 
 of an Invariable Standard of Value, an Address at the 
 Commencement of the University of the State of New 
 York, Metrological Notes, contributed to the American 
 Association for the Advancement of Science, and a paper 
 on Monometallism, Bimetallism, and International Coin- 
 age ; in 1880, two papers on Academic Degrees ; in 1882, 
 a paper on The World's Stock of Precious Metals, and 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 449 
 
 a pamphlet entitled " Should American Colleges be Open 
 to Women as well as to Men " ; in 1884, a monograph 
 on the Metrology of the Great Pyramid in which he 
 exploded many of the theories of Piazzi Smyth on that 
 subject ; in 1885, a paper on Reform Needed in the Man- 
 ner of Conducting Presidential Elections ; in 1886, a 
 Letter to the Secretary of the Navy; in 1887, Warfare 
 against Society ; and last of all a posthumous article pub- 
 lished in the April number of The Forum, 1890, on The 
 Degradation of our Politics. 
 
 In 1872, Dr. Barnard undertook his Magnum Opus at 
 the request of Mr. A. J. Johnson, a publisher of New 
 York. It was nothing less than a new cyclopedia on 
 a plan originally suggested by Horace Greeley. The 
 editorship of this work had been first entrusted to Dr. 
 Joseph Thomas of Philadelphia, but after some progress 
 had been made, Dr. Thomas retired, and the publisher 
 requested President Barnard to take his place. After 
 some hesitation, he accepted the proposal, but only on 
 condition that the work should be again taken up from 
 the beginning, and that the plates already prepared, and 
 amounting to more than eleven hundred in number, should 
 be destroyed. Under Dr. Barnard's editorship, the first 
 volume appeared in June, 1874, and the fourth and last 
 in April, 1887. The four volumes included seven thou- 
 sand pages imperial octavo, closely printed, and the labor 
 which fell upon the editor was heavy indeed. Though 
 the various departments were committed to associate 
 editors, and every title of importance was treated by 
 some writer of known authority, the supervision of the 
 whole work still remained to the editor-in-chief. The 
 correspondence with writers and sub-editors was enor- 
 mous; he himself contributed many important articles 
 to every volume ; and he was constantly engaged in the 
 2o 
 
450 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 collation and condensation of facts which had been col- 
 lected by his subordinates ; but although the four years 
 from 1873 to 1877 were years of exhausting toil, he had 
 the great satisfaction to know that his work was appre- 
 ciated, not less than fifty thousand copies of the cyclo- 
 pedia having been sold. 
 
 Meanwhile, his attention was never for a moment with- 
 drawn from the institution of which he was the head 
 and which was constantly gaining in reputation by the 
 acknowledged distinction of its President. The honors 
 which had been bestowed upon him were numerous. 
 Earlier in his career he had received the degree of 
 Ph.D.; he was admitted to the degree of S.T.D. by the 
 University of Mississippi, to that of LL.D. by his Alma 
 Mater and also by Jefferson College, Mississippi ; to that 
 of L.H.D. by the University Regents of the State of New 
 York; to that of D.C.L. by King's College, Canada ; and 
 the last-mentioned degree was offered to him and would 
 have been conferred upon him by the University of Ox- 
 ford, England, if he had not been hindered from arriving 
 in time to receive it. He was a member of the Connecti- 
 cut Academy, New Haven, of the American Philosophical 
 Society of Philadelphia, of the Lyceum of Natural His- 
 tory, New York, and of the American Geographical 
 Society. He succeeded Professor Agassiz as correspond- 
 ing secretary of the National Academy of Sciences; he 
 was an associate member of the American Academy of 
 Arts and Sciences ; he was an honorary member of the 
 Sociedade Auxiliadora da Industria Nacional of Brazil; 
 he was a corresponding member of the Royal Society 
 of Liege, Belgium ; he was President at different times 
 of the American Association for the Advancement of 
 Science, of the Microscopical Society, of the Board of 
 Experts of the American Bureau of Mines, and of the 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 451 
 
 American Institute, New York. By appointment of 
 the President of the United States, he had been a Com- 
 missioner to the Paris Exposition in 1867, and served as 
 chairman of the Committees on Machinery and on the 
 Apparatus of the Exact Sciences, also as a juror on In- 
 struments of Precision and as a member of the Advisory 
 Committee. His services in these capacities were hand- 
 somely acknowledged by the French Government, which 
 conferred upon him the high honor of an Officer of the 
 Legion of Honor. In 1873, he was again appointed by 
 the President of the United States as a Commissioner to 
 the International Exposition at Vienna, where he served 
 as a member of the Advisory Committee and as Chairman 
 of a sub-committee on Instruments of Precision. He was 
 fortunate enough to live to join in the celebration of the 
 Centenary of the re-establishment of King's College as 
 Columbia College in 1887, and as his labors ended in the 
 following year, it may be convenient here to compare the 
 departments of instruction in the College as they were in 
 1865, with the larger and broader development recorded 
 by the reports of 1887. 
 
 In 1885, the Academic Departments appear from the 
 published catalogue to have been these : 
 
 1. The Evidences of Natural and Revealed Religion. 
 
 2. The Greek Language and Literature. 
 
 3. The Latin Language and Literature. 
 
 4. The German Language and Literature (optional). 
 
 5. Chemistry. 
 
 6. History and Political Science. 
 
 7. The Higher Mathematics. 
 
 8. Mathematics and Astronomy. 
 
 9. Philosophy and Belles-Lettres. 
 
 10. Mechanics and Physics. 
 
 11. Botany. 
 
452 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The Medical School and Law School were entirely 
 separate and distinct from the College, and the School of 
 Mines had merely been projected. 
 
 In 1887, there were the following departments : 
 
 SCHOOL OF ARTS. 
 
 1. Greek, including both an undergraduate and gradu- 
 ate course. 
 
 2. Latin, with undergraduate and graduate courses. 
 
 3. Mathematics, Mechanics, and Astronomy, with elec- 
 tive courses for undergraduates in Descriptive Astronomy, 
 Differential and Integral Calculus, Analytical Geometry 
 and Mechanics, and with graduate instruction in the 
 Higher Mathematics, Determinants, and Modern Co-ordi- 
 nate Geometry. 
 
 4. Mathematics, undergraduate and graduate classes. 
 
 5. Physics, partly elective. 
 
 6. History and Political Science, for undergraduates. 
 
 7. Philosophy, Ethics, and Psychology, undergraduate 
 and graduate courses, also a graduate seminar. 
 
 8. Political Economy and Social Science, partly elective. 
 
 9. English Language and Literature, for graduates and 
 undergraduates, with special studies in Anglo-Saxon. 
 
 10. Modern Languages and Foreign Literature, for 
 undergraduates and graduates. 
 
 11. Geodesy and Practical Astronomy, chiefly for grad- 
 uates, but partially optional to the senior class. 
 
 12. Chemistry, undergraduate and graduate classes. 
 
 13. Geology (in the School of Mines). 
 
 14. Botany. 
 
 15. Sanskrit (optional to seniors and graduates). 
 
 16. Semitic Languages, for graduates (optional to 
 seniors). 
 
 17. Iranian Languages, for graduates (optional to 
 seniors). 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 453 
 
 SCHOOL OF MINES. 
 
 1. Mineralogy and Metallurgy. 
 
 2. Chemistry. 
 
 3. Analytical Chemistry. 
 
 4. Assaying. 
 
 5. Qualitative Analysis. 
 
 6. Organic Chemistry. 
 
 7. Chemical Physics and Chemical Philosophy. 
 
 8. Mechanics. 
 
 9. Mathematics. 
 
 10. Physics. 
 
 11. Engineering. 
 
 12. Architecture. 
 
 13. Biology and Hygiene. 
 
 14. Microscopy and Biology. 
 
 15. Geodesy and Practical Astronomy. 
 
 SCHOOL OF POLITICAL SCIENCE. 
 
 1. Political Economy and Social Science. 
 
 2. European Law. 
 
 3. Philosophy, including political theories from Plate 
 to Bentham. 
 
 SCHOOL OF LAW. 
 
 Fully organized in all departments. 
 
 SCHOOL OF MEDICINE. 
 Fully organized in all departments. 
 
 SCHOOL OF LIBRARY ECONOMY. 
 
 In addition to these regular schools and courses, there 
 were Summer Schools as follows : 
 
 1. In Practical Mining. 3. In Mechanical Engineering. 
 
 2. In Surveying. 4. In Practical Geodesy. 
 
454 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 In view of these facts, it is hardly too much to say that 
 where Dr. Barnard found a college with 150 undergradu- 
 ates, he left an university of more than 1000 students, or, 
 if the Medical School be included, of nearly 2000 students. 
 His warmest admirers do not pretend that the expansion 
 of the institution over which he presided was exclusively 
 the result of his personal influence, or that the lines of 
 expansion were all laid on plans of his devising. It was 
 his good fortune to be called to Columbia at the very 
 time when a venerable institution was entering upon a 
 period of growth which the Board of Trustees had pa- 
 tiently awaited, and for which the Faculty and the Trus- 
 tees had long and earnestly labored. It was Barnard's 
 great merit that he appreciated the opportunity of the 
 time and intelligently fostered a development for which the 
 time was ripe. In a man so positive in his convictions as 
 Barnard was, it was a rare merit to be able and willing to 
 abandon any and all theories, however earnestly he might 
 have advocated them, which were not practically appli- 
 cable to the circumstances of the institution to which the 
 remainder of his life was to be devoted. In his earlier 
 years he had thought of the college curriculum merely 
 as a preparation for serious study. He now saw that it 
 must be made in some worthy degree a preparation for 
 the duties of life. He had regarded the college as an 
 institution separate and apart from all other schools of 
 learning ; he now saw that unless the college could be 
 brought into sympathetic cooperation with a far larger 
 scheme of instruction, the college must lose its place in 
 popular esteem. For the narrow rigidity of the college 
 curriculum which he had once approved, he came to see 
 that breadth and flexibility must be substituted. Con- 
 sidering the college as the normal foundation of a truly 
 liberal education, and finding, as he thought, that an 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 455 
 
 enthusiastic esprit du corps of the undergraduate body can- 
 not be maintained without something of the community 
 life of the mediaeval college, he expressed his willingness 
 to concur in the inauguration of a dormitory system which 
 he had once so vehemently condemned. He never lost 
 sight of the fact that the college is preparatory to the 
 university ; but he clearly saw that an American univer- 
 sity in the nineteenth century, and still more in the twen- 
 tieth, must be generically different from the European 
 university of the Middle Ages. It could not be an uni- 
 versity in the sense of a community (universitas) of 
 teachers and scholars. It must be made a universitas 
 omnium scientiarum, a school of all learning that the 
 necessities of the age demand. In order to create such 
 an institution, special schools must be successively founded 
 as they seem to be required, for the instruction of gradu- 
 ates of the college, and in the growth of these schools he 
 believed that the university of the future would be gradu- 
 ally but surely developed. As the graduate schools were 
 successively established, he began at last to entertain the 
 thought that it might even be desirable for Columbia 
 to abandon the department of college instruction to the 
 many new institutions which had come into existence, 
 and to devote the entire resources and energies at the 
 command of the Board to the fostering and enlargement 
 of the university proper. But by the university proper 
 Dr. Barnard no longer understood an institution of in- 
 struction in what have been called the learned profes- 
 sions. The necessities of the age and the logic of events 
 require that a modern university, and especially an Amer- 
 ican university, shall include the broadest and most liberal 
 courses of instruction in the physical arts and sciences, 
 and it was the delight of his life to observe and assist in 
 the development of that noble polytechnic school which, 
 
456 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 somewhat unfortunately, is known by the name of one 
 of its departments as the School of Mines. His earnest 
 advocacy of the elective system, in opposition to all his 
 earlier prejudices, was grounded in his desire that the 
 college curriculum should be available in the preparation 
 of students for scientific pursuits, as well as for students 
 of the so-called learned professions. He warmly de- 
 nounced the "overloading" of the college curriculum 
 with a vast array of studies, the effect of which was to 
 give the student a mere smattering of knowledge on many 
 subjects, without adequate preparation for an advanced 
 course either on the scientific or the intellectual side. It 
 does not seem to have occurred to him that the elective 
 system may overload the collegiate department in another 
 way by endeavoring to make a single institution do the 
 work which is done in Germany by the two separate 
 institutions of the Gymnasium and the Real-Schule. 
 That is a question which still remains to be practically 
 worked out by American educators ; and it is more than 
 possible that experience may lead them to adopt the Ger- 
 man system. To Dr. Barnard, however, that question, 
 if he ever thought of it, was not a practical question. 
 He had only the college to work with, and his endeavor 
 was to make it answer the purpose both of the Gymna- 
 sium and of the Real-Schule, leaving problems which 
 might arise in other times to be studied and solved by 
 other men. 
 
 At last his long and laborious life drew to its close. 
 In the year following the Centenary Celebration of 1887, 
 his brief Report ended with a few remarks which he 
 modestly described as "apologetic." He said: 
 
 The conditions under which the present report has been 
 prepared have been such as to make it impossible to bestow 
 upon it the usual amount of labor and time. The health of 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 457 
 
 the undersigned has for two or three months been so fluctuat- 
 ing that he is conscious of having been able to give but a 
 superficial survey of the work of the present year. The 
 matters of most essential importance, however, have been 
 brought to the attention of the Board ; and if there has been 
 any important omission, he will be happy to furnish any 
 supplementary information which may be called for. The 
 undersigned has held his office nearly quarter of a century and 
 has served a term exceeding in length that of any of his 
 predecessors. The period has been marked by a great develop- 
 ment in the work of the institution. . . . Whatever his 
 relations to the College may continue to be, he will never cease 
 to cherish a deep interest in all that relates to it, nor to bestow 
 his best efforts for the increase of its prosperity and use- 
 fulness. 
 
 The following transcript from the minutes of the Board 
 of Trustees records the action taken upon Dr. Barnard's 
 resignation in terms of generous justice which are not less 
 honorable to the Board than to the distinguished man 
 whose long-continued services they acknowledge : 
 
 At a meeting of the Trustees of Columbia College, held May 
 7th, 1888, the chairman presented the following communication 
 from Dr. Barnard, tendering his resignation as President of 
 the College : 
 
 COLUMBIA COLLEGE, NEW YORK. 
 
 President's Boom, May 7th, 1888. 
 To THE TRUSTEES OF COLUMBIA COLLEGE: 
 
 Advancing years and unstable health admonish me that the 
 time has arrived when I may with propriety divest myself of 
 the responsibilities which you did me the honor to entrust to 
 me many years ago, and which I have uninterruptedly contin- 
 ued to discharge for almost a quarter of a century. 
 
 I beg leave, therefore, to resign into your hands the office 
 of President of Columbia College, this resignation to take effect 
 whenever you have elected a successor to relieve me of my 
 burdens. 
 
458 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 I do not conceal that this action is taken with reluctance 
 and pain. Many circumstances conspire to dissuade me from 
 it, and I am impelled to it only by a sense of duty. The work 
 in which I have been so long engaged is congenial to me, and 
 has constituted a pleasure rather than a task. 
 
 The numerous colleagues with whom I have been associated 
 have manifested toward me the most kindly feeling, and have 
 greatly aided to relieve me of the sense of my responsibilities. 
 The young men, in the various departments subject to my 
 general control, have manifested a spirit of devotion to the 
 objects for which they are here assembled, such as to render 
 the care I have been obliged to bestow upon them a pleasurable 
 occupation. And to the members of your honorable body I 
 have been indebted for kind consideration of my shortcomings, 
 and for a generous support in my efforts to serve you, which 
 have contributed largely to make my post agreeable. Though 
 disconnected from the College, I shall not cease to take an in- 
 terest in its affairs, nor fail to use my best efforts, so long as 
 life shall last, to advance in every manner in my power its 
 prosperity and its usefulness. 
 
 I have the honor to be, 
 
 Very respectfully yours, 
 
 F. A. P. BARNARD. 
 And it was 
 
 Resolved : That the communication be referred to a special 
 committee of five to consider and report what action should 
 be taken in the matter. 
 
 The Chair appointed as such special committee, the Eev. 
 Dr. Dix, Mr. W. C. Schermerhorn, Mr. Stephen P. Nash, Mr. 
 Joseph W. Harper, and Mr. Gerard Beekman. 
 
 At a meeting of the Trustees of Columbia College, held 
 June 4th, 1888, the special committee, to whom the President's 
 resignation was referred, presented the following report, which 
 was accepted, and the resolutions therein recommended were 
 adopted : 
 
 The special committee, to whom was referred a letter from 
 the President of the College, dated May 7th, and received by 
 
FEEDEKICK A. P. BARNAUD 459 
 
 the Board at the meeting held on that day, with instructions 
 to consider the said communication and report what action 
 should be taken by the Board in consequence, respectfully re- 
 port as follows : 
 
 The letter referred to contains the President's resignation of 
 his office, the said resignation to take effect on the election of 
 his successor. The President states that he is constrained to 
 take this step in consequence of failure of health, and the 
 burden of advancing years, which render it desirable and nec- 
 essary that he should obtain relief from the heavy cares and 
 responsibilities of his office. Your Committee, with profound 
 regret, find themselves compelled to admit the urgent neces- 
 sity of the case as thus presented, and see no escape from the 
 conclusion that the resignation of Dr. Barnard ought to be 
 accepted, and that steps should be promptly taken to give him 
 the relief requested by the election of a successor. They 
 would, however, consider it a gratifying result if the difficul- 
 ties attending that duty, and the President's improvement in 
 health, should conduce to his continuing in office until the 
 completion of the twenty-fifth year of his incumbency. 
 
 The Committee are of the opinion, that in view of the long 
 and very able services of the President, and of the causes which 
 now compel him, amid general expressions of regret, to take 
 the preliminary steps towards laying down his office, this Board 
 should not only do him honor in every suitable way, but also, 
 when the proper time arrives, provide for him during the re- 
 mainder of his life, and they have accordingly drafted a series 
 of resolutions, expressive of their judgment as to the course 
 proper to be pursued at this time, which resolutions they now 
 respectfully submit for the consideration of the Board. 
 
 Whereas, at a meeting of the Board of Trustees of Columbia 
 College, held May 7th, 1888, a letter was received from the 
 Rev'd F. A. P. Barnard, S.T.D., LL.D., L.H.D., resigning into 
 their hands the office of President of Columbia College, the 
 said resignation to take effect whenever a successor shall have 
 been elected ; and 
 
 Whereas, the cause assigned by Dr. Barnard for his resig- 
 nation is the heavy burden of advancing years and unstable 
 health which renders it desirable and necessary for him to 
 
460 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 divest himself of the responsibility and cares of his office; 
 therefore, be it 
 
 Resolved: That the Trustees of Columbia College have re- 
 ceived with deep emotion and inexpressible regret the resig- 
 nation of the venerable and illustrious head of the College. 
 
 Resolved: That this Board offer to the respected and hon- 
 ored President of the College the expression of their sympa- 
 thy with him in the impaired condition of his health referred 
 to in his letter, and solely under essential constraint, and most 
 reluctantly, accept the said resignation on the condition under 
 which it is now placed in their hands. 
 
 Resolved: That this Board attest with pride and pleasure 
 the widespread fame of the distinguished head of the College, 
 and share in the general admiration for his extraordinary 
 attainments, his ability as an educator, and the modesty, sim- 
 plicity, and dignity which have uniformly characterized his 
 manners and life, for all of which things he will be held in 
 perpetual memory by the learned and the good of all time to 
 come. 
 
 Resolved: That we recall with satisfaction the kindly and 
 courteous relations which have always existed between our- 
 selves and President Barnard as members of this Board of 
 Trustees. 
 
 Resolved : That when the time comes to install his successor, 
 the Board confer on the retiring President the rank and title 
 of President Emeritus, and that his present salary be continued 
 during the remainder of his life. 
 
 Resolved : That with a view of securing to the President a 
 full measure of relief from his duties and responsibilities as 
 President and Trustee, we hereby grant to him leave of absence 
 for one year from this date, or until the election and instal- 
 lation of his successor, pending which event the duties of his 
 office as President shall be performed by the senior Professor 
 in the School of Arts who shall be in the regular performance 
 of his duties. 
 
 Resolved: That a copy of this preamble and the appended 
 resolutions be engrossed and presented to President Barnard 
 by a select committee of three to be designated by the Chair- 
 man of this Board. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 461 
 
 The Chair appointed as such Committee Dr. Dix, Mr. Nash, 
 and Mr. Harper. 
 
 To a man of Dr. Barnard's temperament, the end of 
 labor was the end of life. He lived less than one year 
 after the acceptance of his resignation, and passed peace- 
 fully and painlessly away at his residence on the College 
 grounds, April 27, 1889, at the full age of nearly four 
 score years. During the brief time of his retirement 
 from active work, he was cheered and strengthened by 
 innumerable letters of loving gratitude and admiration 
 from men with whom he had been associated or who had 
 had the privilege of studying under him ; but his delight 
 was to spend his hours of quiet in conversing with his 
 wife on the events of bygone years. It was at this time 
 that, in writing of her, he said : " To the encouragement 
 derived from her good sense, energy, and sanguine tem- 
 perament I am largely indebted for whatever success may 
 have attended me in life." It was at her suggestion that 
 he then wrote or dictated the memoranda of his career 
 from which a large part of the contents of this volume 
 have been derived; and so, in pleasing recollections of 
 a well-spent life and in constant converse with her whom 
 he loved best in all the world, "with the testimony of 
 a good conscience, in the communion of the Catholic 
 Church, in the confidence of a certain faith, and in the 
 comfort of a reasonable religious and holy hope," Fred- 
 erick Augustus Porter Barnard "fell on sleep." 
 
 It was nearly fifty years since he had been confirmed 
 in old St. Thomas' Church, and on May 2d, 1889, his 
 funeral took place from the new and noble edifice of the 
 same parish. The Presidents of Harvard, Yale, Prince- 
 ton, the College of the City of New York, Rutgers, 
 Dartmouth, Bates, Hobart, Trinity, and others, were 
 
462 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 present to testify the respect of those great institutions. 
 Deputations from many churches and organizations of 
 learning, literature, and science were in attendance. 
 The Trustees, Faculties, students, and many of the alumni 
 of Columbia College went in a body from the President's 
 dwelling to the church. President Dwight of Yale, 
 President Patton of Princeton, President Potter of Hobart, 
 President Webb of the College of the City of New York, 
 Dean Hoffman of the General Theological Seminary, Dr. 
 John Hall, the Hon. Hamilton Fish, William C. Schermer- 
 horn, and Stephen P. Nash bore the pall. The services 
 were conducted by the Rt. Rev. Bishop Potter, assisted 
 by Dr. Dix, Dr. Duffie, Dr. Brown, and Dr. Starr. In 
 the afternoon of the same day the remains were taken 
 to Sheffield, Massachusetts, where, on the following day, 
 they were committed to their final resting-place. 
 
 When Dr. Barnard's will was read, it was found that 
 in death, as in life, his heart had been with Columbia Col- 
 lege. The income of his estate was to be enjoyed by Mrs. 
 Barnard during her lifetime, and at her death it was to 
 pass to Columbia College, with the exception of certain 
 small legacies to friends and dependents. The following 
 provisions of his will may well be given entire : 
 
 1. One portion of the said fund, to the amount of ten thou- 
 sand dollars, to be set apart and to constitute the foundation 
 of a fellowship to be entitled " The Barnard Fellowship for 
 Encouraging Scientific Research " ; the annual income from the 
 sum so set apart to be devoted to the support or partial support 
 of some Alumnus of the School of Arts, or of the School of 
 Science known as the School of Mines of Columbia College, 
 who may be recommended to the Trustees by the joint vote 
 of the Faculties of the said schools, as evincing decided 
 aptness for physical investigation, and who may be disposed 
 to devote himself to such investigation for some years continu- 
 ously, such benefit to be allowed so long as the appointee shall 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 463 
 
 faithfully fulfil the conditions of his appointment, or during 
 the pleasure of the Board, who may always annul the appoint- 
 ment for just cause, and who also, on the occurrence of a 
 vacancy by removal, resignation, or death of the incumbent, 
 shall proceed to make a new appointment so early as may 
 be convenient, on nominations by the Faculties above speci- 
 fied; but the Trustees may make appointments under this 
 provision of my will, for limited instead of unlimited peri- 
 ods, if, in their judgment, the object of the provision may, 
 by such form of appointment, be likely to be most effectually 
 secured. 
 
 2. All the remainder of my property invested as aforesaid, 
 to constitute a fund, under the name of " The Barnard Fund 
 for the Increase of the Library " ; the income from the same to 
 be devoted to the purchase, on account of the library of 
 Columbia College, of such books as from time to time may 
 be most needed, but especially relating to physical or astro- 
 nomical science ; selecting, in preference, those which may be 
 likely to be most useful to persons engaged in scientific 
 investigation. But of the income from this said fund I desire 
 that so much as may be necessary shall be applied in the 
 manner following: The Trustees of Columbia College shall 
 cause to be struck, with suitable devices, a medal of gold, 
 nine-tenths fine, of the bullion value of not less than two 
 hundred dollars, to be styled " The Barnard Medal for Meri- 
 torious Service to Science," and shall publicly announce 
 that a copy of the same shall be awarded, at the close of 
 every quinquennial period, dating from the probate of this, 
 my last will and testament, to such person, whether a citizen 
 of the United States or of any other country, as shall, within 
 the five years next proceeding, have made such discovery in 
 physical or astronomical science, or such novel application of 
 science to purposes beneficial to the human race, as, in the 
 judgment of the National Academy of Sciences of the United 
 States, shall be esteemed most worthy of such honor. 
 
 And I make it my request that the said National Academy 
 of Sciences shall charge itself with the duty of declaring to 
 the Trustees of Columbia College aforesaid, at the close of 
 every term of five years, as above defined, the name of the 
 
464 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 person whom they judge worthy to receive such medal, with 
 a statement of the reasons on which their judgment is founded ; 
 and that, upon such declaration and nomination, the Trustees 
 shall proceed to award the said medal, and shall transmit the 
 same to the person entitled to receive it, accompanied by a 
 diploma or certificate attesting the fact and the occasion of the 
 award. But if the said National Academy of Sciences shall 
 judge that, during the five years preceding the date at which, 
 as above specified, this award shall become due, no discovery 
 in physical or astronomical science, or no new application of 
 scientific principles to useful purposes, has been made worthy 
 of the distinction proposed, then it is my wish and request 
 that the award shall be for that time omitted. 
 
 And I would further desire that the medal above described 
 should bear, if it can be accomplished without interfering with 
 the appropriate artistic devices, upon its obverse side the motto, 
 Magna est Veritas, and upon its reverse the motto, Deo Optimo 
 Maximo, Gloria in Excelsis. 
 
 Finally, it is my wish that in case the fund herein last 
 named shall, at the time of its reversion to the Trustees of 
 Columbia College, be less in amount than the sum of $50,000, 
 the income from the same shall, for the time being, be not 
 applied to the purchase of books, but shall be annually added 
 to the principal until the total sum shall reach this said 
 amount of $50,000 ; and so far as I may legally do so, I enjoin 
 such accumulation upon the Trustees, but this restriction is not 
 intended to prevent the employment of so much of said income 
 as may be necessary to carry into effect the last foregoing pro- 
 vision of this, my last will, in regard to the preparation and 
 quinquennial presentation of a medal for meritorious service 
 to science to some suitable person nominated by the National 
 Academy of Sciences. 
 
 Of the many tributes of affectionate admiration which 
 were publicly paid to the memory of Dr. Barnard, it may 
 suffice to insert in this place the two which he himself 
 would have valued most highly. They are a Minute 
 adopted by the Trustees of Columbia College, and a 
 similar Minute of the Alumni. 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 465 
 
 EXTRACT FROM MINUTES OF MEETING OF THE TRUSTEES 
 OF COLUMBIA COLLEGE HELD JUNE SED, 1889. 
 
 On motion of Dr. Dix and by unanimous consent the 
 Rules of Order were suspended. Dr. Dix, on behalf of 
 the Special Committee, appointed May 6th, 1889, pre- 
 sented the following Minute on the death of President 
 Barnard, which was accepted. The Committee appointed 
 at the last meeting of the Board of Trustees of Columbia 
 College, to prepare a minute on the death of President 
 Barnard, beg leave to submit the following, with the 
 recommendation that an engrossed copy thereof be pre- 
 sented to Mrs. Barnard: 
 
 MINUTE. 
 
 At the last meeting of the Trustees of Columbia College, the 
 Chairman of the Board announced the death of the venerable 
 head of the College, the Rev. Frederick Augustus Porter Bar- 
 nard, Ph.D., S.T.D., LL.D., L.H.D., D.C.L. It is just one year 
 since the Trustees, with unfeigned regret, acceded to the request 
 of our respected and honored President and Fellow Trustee, 
 to be relieved from the cares and duties of the offices which 
 he has filled so usefully and with such distinguished success 
 for nearly a quarter of a century, during which period it was 
 his privilege and ours to witness the unparalleled growth and 
 development of the College. 
 
 The Board at that time recorded upon their minutes, their 
 recognition of the high character and valuable services of Presi- 
 dent Barnard. Now, having received the announcement of his 
 death, they desire reverently to renew the expression of their 
 admiration and respect for the late distinguished Head of our 
 College, and to reaffirm their pleasant memory of the kindly 
 and courteous relations which have always existed between 
 ourselves and President Barnard as members of this Board of 
 Trustees. 
 
 He was a man of eminent ability and extensive attainments, 
 and conspicuous in his generation for a life-long devotion to 
 science and letters. He had a great and intelligent interest 
 
466 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 in whatever related to education, and that interest grew with 
 advancing years. 
 
 For a quarter of a century he was at the head of Columbia 
 College, a position for which he was particularly well fitted, 
 not only by his learning and acuteness, but also by his execu- 
 tive tact, his mastery of details, his insight into character, and 
 his unfailing courtesy at all times and to all persons. His 
 devotion to the welfare and advancement of the College was 
 unsparing. During his presidency, the gradual increase of 
 means at its command led to a wide expansion of its efforts 
 and methods in the various schools now under the care of this 
 Board. Dr. Barnard's capacious intellect and broad culture 
 enabled him to superintend this development with wisdom and 
 skill. His own forte lay in certain branches of the higher 
 mathematics, but his unsurpassed eminence here in no wise 
 lessened his interest in any other branch of a liberal educa- 
 tion. His outlook took in the whole circle of human knowl- 
 edge so far as that could be embraced in the curriculum of a 
 single institution. He was equally a friend to the humanities, 
 the exact sciences, philosophy, jurisprudence, and every depart- 
 ment of physical research. This largeness of view and lofti- 
 ness of aim have set a precedent which we trust will continue 
 to the end. 
 
 Dr. Barnard has rendered a service not given to many of the 
 sons of men to perform, and now that in a good old age he has 
 terminated his useful life and is at rest from toil, his associates 
 in the Board feel it alike a duty and a privilege to pay this 
 tribute to his memory. June 3rd, 1889. 
 
 MORGAN Dix, 
 JOSEPH W. HARPER, 
 TALBOT W. CHAMBERS. 
 
 EXTRACT FROM THE MINUTES OF THE ALUMNI. 
 
 The Alumni of Columbia College, desirous of expressing 
 their sense of the eminent services to their Alma Mater 
 rendered by the late President Barnard and of the great 
 loss sustained by her in his lamented death, direct the 
 following entry to be made in the minutes of this meeting: 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 467 
 
 In 1864 at the date of Dr. Barnard's accession to the presi- 
 dency, the College was at a critical period of its history. It 
 was ready for development and had begun to develop. The 
 Law School had been established a few years previously and 
 was in successful operation. The School of Mines was in 
 process of organization. The Trustees had for several years 
 been considering the expansion of the undergraduate course, 
 and in connection therewith a system of university education. 
 At this critical period the College happily obtained as its chief 
 counsellor and guide Dr. Barnard, a profound student of educa- 
 tion, in sympathy with all the forms of higher development, 
 literary as well as scientific, of quick perception, peculiarly 
 open to new ideas and prolific of them, of learning deep, exact, 
 and extensive in many fields, a classical and English scholar, 
 a fine mathematician, physicist, chemist, and adding to his 
 severer accomplishments that of being a poet and a musician 
 of no mean quality, a prolific, elegant, and persuasive writer, 
 a logical and convincing speaker, of sanguine enthusiastic 
 temperament, bold and persistent in the advocacy of his opin- 
 ions, and impervious to discouragement. He quickened into 
 organic life the School of Mines, he gave vitalizing force to 
 the extension and liberalization of the undergraduate course, 
 to the founding of fellowships for the encouragement and assist- 
 ance in their higher studies of earnest and able young men, to 
 the extension of the library and the liberalization of its man- 
 agement, to the project of a course for the higher study of 
 political and historical subjects, and to the scheme for a broad 
 and liberal system of post-graduate or university instruction, 
 which the College had long but vainly desired. In brief, he 
 gave Columbia College a new life and a new significance, and 
 by his commanding position in many learned societies, by the 
 force and elegance of his published writings, scientific, literary, 
 legal, political, educational, and by his wide acquaintance with 
 the foremost men of his time, he attracted attention to the 
 College, and did much to interest the community at large in it. 
 
 Age could not wither nor custom stale 
 His infinite variety. 
 
 He possessed, with such men as Gladstone and Bismarck (it 
 is a very rare quality) the fervor in age that he had in youth, 
 
468 MEMOIES OF 
 
 and was as ready as lie was before he had secured position 
 and fame, to take up a new idea, a new project, and pursue it 
 with as much vigor as if a long life were still before him, and 
 all his reputation yet to make. It was this quality that made 
 him a great president to the very last. With almost his latest 
 breath, unable to write, and speaking with difficulty, he dictated 
 letters of counsel upon what was ever nearest his great heart 
 Columbia College and her future. 
 
 The departure of such a man is a loss beyond adequate 
 expression. But he is not wholly lost. During his long period 
 of service, longer and more distinguished than that of any of 
 his predecessors, he so impressed himself upon the College in 
 many vital particulars, that though dead he shall yet speak 
 for all time to come. 
 
 The life of which an imperfect record has been given in 
 this volume might well be left to teach its own moral ; 
 but it may be seemly, though it is not necessary, to take 
 some note of the most conspicuous features of the man 
 whose long and arduous career was closed in well-earned 
 "honor, love, obedience" from "troops of friends." 
 
 His rich and varied natural endowments and the versa- 
 tility with which he applied them in every position to 
 which he was called require no comment ; they speak for 
 themselves ; but the courageous patience with which he 
 overcame the difficulties caused by his loss of hearing is 
 less likely to be thought of. Of an eminently genial 
 disposition, he was deprived, while still a youth, of many 
 privileges of social intercourse, and the rest of his life 
 was passed in the loneliness to which the deaf are doomed. 
 He was ambitious from his boyhood; and although his 
 love of distinction was always rooted in a love of excel- 
 lence, there can be no doubt that his original choice of the 
 law as a profession was prompted to a large degree by a 
 well-founded hope of achieving eminence both as a jurist 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD 469 
 
 and as a statesman. The fortitude with which he sub- 
 mitted to the decree of providence was illustrated by the 
 zeal with which he applied himself to the scientific instruc- 
 tion of deaf-mutes, the only occupation in which it seemed 
 possible for him at that time to earn his bread ; and it 
 was characteristic of the man that he applied himself with 
 such assiduity and with such amazing success to the study 
 of his new profession, that within a few years he became 
 not only an expert teacher, but an instructor of others in 
 the difficult art of deaf-mute education. When he found 
 that so much of his hearing still remained to him as to 
 make it possible for him to accept a position as professor 
 in the University of Alabama, he applied himself with the 
 same devotion and the same success to the study of the 
 science and art of education. He was not content to be a 
 mere hearer of recitations ; he became a fascinating lecturer 
 who at once communicated knowledge and inspired his 
 pupils with his own enthusiasm. He was not content to 
 join in the routine of college government ; he studied the 
 history and the principles of the existing system, and pres- 
 ently became the expositor of a better system than had 
 then been thought of. When he was called to take the 
 chief charge of an university, he exhibited an open-mind- 
 edness which refused to be trammelled by considerations 
 of consistency, and a patience which, while cherishing the 
 loftiest ideals, could yet content itself with the best possi- 
 bilities of the time and in doing small things from great 
 motives. His patience was exemplary because 
 
 " His faith was large in time, 
 And that which works it to some perfect end." 
 
 As a college governor, he stood always for the freer rule 
 and the larger trust, with a generous confidence in youth 
 which could not have existed if his own youth had not 
 justified it. Even so, he might have failed if he had 
 
470 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 lacked sympathy. Bulwer somewhere says that every 
 great man has "a dash of the boy in him to the last" ; 
 and to the last, Barnard had at least so much of the boy 
 in him as to be able to understand and sympathize with 
 the boy and to make his sympathy so felt that govern- 
 ment was easy. One other characteristic, and only one, 
 we have yet to mention, because it was inconspicuous. 
 Barnard was a strenuous man, positive in his convictions, 
 unfalteringly resolute in action, courageous in difficulty, 
 sometimes intolerant of opposition ; but with all this, 
 there was an element of meekness in his character which 
 might seldom be exhibited, but which strengthened him 
 in many a trial and contributed no little to his ultimate 
 success. Take him for all in all, we may say of him, as 
 Johnson said of Goldsmith, "he was a very great man." 
 
 Of his religious character it is needless to speak. Bar- 
 nard was one of those men whose religion was of the 
 inward life ; it was seldom on his lips, but it was felt, 
 even when unexpressed. On this subject we may borrow 
 the simple but eloquent words of the Bishop of New York 
 in a Baccalaureate Sermon preached at the Commence- 
 ment of Columbia College a few weeks after Dr. Barnard's 
 death, on Phil. iii. 12 : " Not as though I had already 
 attained, or were already perfect, but I follow after, if 
 that I may apprehend that for which also I am appre- 
 hended of Christ Jesus." In concluding his discourse, 
 Bishop Potter addressed the graduating class as follows : 
 
 As you turn from the studies that thus far have engrossed 
 you, I beseech you to take with you into the life that lies 
 before you, an open mind, a hearkening ear. More truth than 
 you have yet learned awaits to reward your search, if only you 
 will continue to be a seeker. It will be a poor result of your 
 collegiate course if it has not taught you that the aim of such 
 education as you have thus far received is to fit you for a 
 
FREDERICK A. P. BxlRNARD 471 
 
 larger and a deeper culture. That post-graduate course, which 
 is the happy appendix to the curriculum of your alma mater, 
 is but a parable of what all life was meant to be, a larger 
 learning, a deeper humility, a more eager discontent with 
 present attainments, and so the open soul that welcomes what- 
 ever will greaten them. 
 
 It is impossible to speak such words in this presence with- 
 out remembering one who was their splendid illustration, and 
 whose rare gifts and attainments have lent enduring lustre 
 to the College of which you are Sons. For twenty-five years 
 its President, Frederick Barnard, revealed, in his great place, 
 great gifts, which were unceasingly ennobled by their ever- 
 widening vision and their never-resting exercise. No man in 
 our generation has more grandly illustrated the words of the 
 Apostle than he. Of rare attainments and ripe learning in 
 more than one department, when he was called to the Presi- 
 dency of Columbia College, no year passed that did not see 
 him touching a larger circumference and possessing himself, 
 not superficially but profoundly, of that which lay within it. 
 Old in years when he passed away, he was still young in 
 enthusiasm, young in his love of all genuine wisdom, young in 
 his open-mindedness. And all this he was student, enquirer, 
 watcher, listener for the fresh voice and the fresh truth, in the 
 simple and childlike submission of a Christian disciple. 
 
 Such an example may well kindle us whom he has left 
 behind him. Take it with you, my young brothers, into the 
 future that opens now before you. And that you may learn 
 the spell that transformed and ennobled him, go to school to 
 that Master whom he, with Saul of Tarsus, loved and followed, 
 that you too may both apprehend and be apprehended by 
 Christ Jesus. 
 
INDEX 
 
 Adrain, Dr., 328. 
 
 Akerly, Dr. Samuel, manager of the 
 New York Institution for the in- 
 struction of deaf and dumb, 76. 
 
 Alabama, boundary commission, 102. 
 
 Alabama, University of, 87 ; criticisms 
 of the faculty, 145 ; the exculpation 
 law, 148; students enter at the age 
 of fourteen and sixteen, 163; the 
 curriculum unchanged, 191. 
 
 Alabama University, Report on a 
 Proposition to modify the Plan of 
 Instruction in the University of Ala- 
 bama, 172 ; the State of Alabama and 
 the University, 173 ; the number of 
 students in other colleges compared 
 with those in Alabama University, 
 175 ; insufficient preparation of stu- 
 dents at entry, 176; evils resulting 
 from students taking partial course, 
 177 ; confusion to be anticipated in 
 allowing a student to study "what 
 he chooses," 178; German Universi- 
 ties, 179; the " open " system of in- 
 struction did not "proceed from a 
 desire for special or partial instruc- 
 tion," 179; University of Virginia, its 
 prosperity, 180; Washington College, 
 experiment, 180; Randolph Macon 
 College, experiment, 181 ; University 
 of Georgia, "open" course, 181; 
 University of Rochester, 181 ; Union 
 College, 181 ; degradation of col- 
 leges by cheapening of degrees, 181 ; 
 extract from the Report of Ex- 
 aminers of the University of Lon- 
 don, 182; college education a good 
 preparation for the business of life, 
 185 ; extract from Sir William Ham- 
 ilton on Knowledge, 186 ; President 
 Thornwell of South Carolina, 186; 
 technical education, 188 ; Dr. Way- 
 land, 188; recommendation of the 
 faculty, 189; compromise between 
 the two extreme propositions, 190. 
 
 Albany, 77, 202. 
 
 Alexander, Professor, 261, 269. 
 
 Alvord, Thomas G., 36. 
 
 American Asylum for the Deaf and 
 Dumb, Hartford, 55, 72. 
 
 American Association for the Ad- 
 vancement of Science, 241. 
 
 Anthon, Mr. Charles, 328. 
 
 Appleton & Co. publish Letters on Col- 
 lege Government, 145. 
 
 Asiatic cholera, 1832, 75. 
 
 Averil, Chester, at Stockbridge, 23. 
 
 Bache, Professor A. D., 260, 261, 290. 
 
 Bache, Mount, 268. 
 
 Banyer, Mr. Goldsbrow, 306. 
 
 Bard, Dr. Samuel, 321. 
 
 Barnard, Colonel Robert Foster, Dr. 
 Barnard's father, 1. 
 
 Barnard, Sarah, Dr. Barnard's sister, 
 11. 
 
 Barnard, F. A. P., Mrs., advocate of 
 temperance, 106 ; her aversion to 
 Mississippi, 194. 
 
 Barnard, John G., Dr. Barnard's 
 brother, 11. 
 
 Barnard, Hon. Henry, 428. 
 
 Barnard College, established in con- 
 nection with Columbia, 421, 422. 
 
 Barnard, F. A. P., his birthplace, 
 Sheffield, Mass., 1 ; his descendants, 
 1 ; autobiographical sketch con- 
 tributed to The Forum, 3 ; his boy- 
 hood, 5 ; posting public notices in 
 the meeting-house, 8; publishing 
 banns by word of mouth, 9 ; careful 
 training by his mother, 9 ; anecdote 
 of his mother, 10 ; his teachers, 10 ; 
 school life^ 11 ; religious instruction, 
 13; first experience of the tender 
 passion, 14 ; goes to grammar school, 
 14 ; studies at the parson's school, 15 ; 
 boyish studies, 16; his fondness for 
 reading, 16 ; his taste for handicraft, 
 17 ; goes to live with his grandfather, 
 
 473 
 
474 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Dr. Porter, 17 ; enters the Saratoga 
 Academy, 17; classical studies, 17; 
 his skill as a printer, 19; pleasant 
 recollections of Saratoga Academy, 
 20. 
 
 CHAPTER II. Goes to Stockbridge 
 Academy, 22; his dislike of school 
 work at Stockbridge, 22 ; his prep- 
 aration for Yale, 22; his fellow- 
 pupils at Stockbridge, 23 ; schoolboy 
 friendship for Mark Hopkins, 23; 
 mechanical ingenuity, 24; boyish 
 sports, 24; amateur lectures on 
 physics, 26 ; his Evenings at Home, 
 26; conversation on progress and 
 reform in Salisbury Iron Works, 27 ; 
 boyish frolic, 28; dispute with a 
 tutor at Stockbridge, 30; leaves 
 Stockbridge, 31 ; troubled about 
 proportion, 31 ; his examination for 
 admission to Yale, 32; his account 
 of Yale in 1824-28, 33; distinguished 
 as a student at Yale, 33 ; his class- 
 mates at Yale, 36 ; social influences 
 of college life, 37 ; takes his degree, 
 38 ; as a teacher at Hartford Gram- 
 mar School, 38 ; reflections on college 
 education, 38; studies modern lan- 
 guages, 39; becomes attached to 
 the Episcopal Church, 39 ; asks his 
 father's permission to attend the 
 Episcopal Church, 40. 
 
 CHAPTER III. Teacher at Hart- 
 ford Grammar School, 41 ; his first 
 experience in teaching, 42 ; his deaf- 
 ness, shadow of an affliction, 43; 
 studies law, 43; newspaper contro- 
 versy, 44 ; on the study of Greek and 
 Latin, 45; corrects Miss Beecher's 
 Latin grammar, 47 ; Miss Beecher's 
 method of teaching Latin, 48 ; Miss 
 Beecher's soirees, 51; first work as 
 an author, an arithmetic, 51 ; edits 
 The New England Review, 51; his 
 Fourth of July oration at Sheffield, 
 52 ; gradually becoming deaf, 54 ; his 
 second year at Hartford, 54; his 
 early efforts in literature, 56 ; Bart- 
 lett urges him to become an in- 
 structor of deaf mutes, 56; his 
 English, poetry and prose, 57; A 
 Serenade, 57 ; his acquaintance with 
 Park Benjamin, 59 ; call to tutorship 
 at Yale, 62 ; his Hartford friends, 62. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. Tutor in mathe- 
 matics at Yale, 64 ; his turn to offici- 
 
 ate in the public services of the 
 College Chapel, 66; his leniency 
 toward the student at Yale on trial 
 for breach of discipline, 67 ; increas- 
 ing deafness, 69; resigns tutorship 
 to accept a position at the American 
 Institution for Deaf and Dumb at 
 Hartford, 71 ; enters upon his new 
 duties, 72; resides with his friend 
 Bartlett at Mrs. Sigourney's during 
 the cholera year, 1832, 75 ; invited 
 to join the New York Institution for 
 Deaf and Dumb, 77; at the mar- 
 riage of his sister, 77 ; visits the 
 New York Institution, 77; resigns 
 position at Hartford, 77; his work 
 at the New York Institution for 
 Deaf-mutes, 79; fondness for music, 
 80 ; scientific investigations, 81 ; 
 contributions to scientific period- 
 icals, 82 ; publishes Analytic Gram- 
 mar with Symbolic Illustrations, 82 ; 
 regular attendant at St. Thomas' 
 Church, 83 ; becomes a candidate for 
 holy orders, 83; writes article on 
 electro-magnetism for Park Benja- 
 min, 83; meets Dr. Basil Manly, 
 President of the University of Ala- 
 bama, 84 ; leaves New York for Tus- 
 kaloosa, 85; visits Richmond, 85; 
 elected Professor of Mathematics 
 and Natural Philosophy in the Uni- 
 versity of Alabama, 85. 
 
 CHAPTER V. His varied services 
 at thQ University of Alabama, 87 ; 
 his methods of instruction, 88; 
 transferred to the chair of Chem- 
 istry and Natural History, 88 ; his ex- 
 periment of the earth's rotation, 89 ; 
 his inventions in photography, 90; 
 establishes a photographic portrait 
 gallery, 90 ; supplies temporarily the 
 chair of English Literature, 90 ; edi- 
 torial mystifications, writes for 
 Whig and Democrat, 91; actively 
 engaged in journalism, 91 ; una- 
 vowed editor of The Monitor, 91 ; A 
 Valentine, sonnet, 92 ; contributes to 
 The Southron, 92 ; Forgetfulness in 
 verse, 93; Ode to a Jack-Knife, 94; 
 his oration on The Claims of Ma- 
 sonry to the Respect and Veneration 
 of Mankind, 95 ; success of the Ma- 
 sonic oration, recognition of his mer- 
 its, 101 ; appointed astronomer to the 
 Alabama and Florida boundary com- 
 
INDEX 
 
 475 
 
 mission, 103; his marriage to Miss 
 Margaret McMurray, 104; his in- 
 come, 105; renews candidature for 
 holy orders, 105; advocate of total 
 abstinence, 106; writes patriotic 
 hymn, 108. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. His Oration on the 
 Fourth of July, 1851, at Tuskaloosa, 
 108, 112, 140; Independence Ode, 
 July 4, 1851, 140. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. His theological 
 views, 141; studies for ordination, 
 142 ; controversy with Hon. H. W. 
 Collier, 143 ; Letters on College 
 Government, 143; defective system 
 of governing American Colleges, 
 145; The Mobile Register declines 
 to publish any more Letters on 
 College Government, 145; the ex- 
 culpation law of the University of 
 Alabama, 148; visitation of rooms 
 by professors, 152; visitation system 
 indispensable, 154 ; an ideal college 
 officer, 156 ; his views on very young 
 boys entering college, 165; advises 
 the abandonment of the dormitory 
 system, 166 ; selection of a site for 
 a college, 167. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. His Report on a 
 Proposition to Modify the Plan of 
 Instruction in the University of 
 Alabama, 168 ; action of the Board 
 of Trustees of Alabama University, 
 169; his opposition to proposed 
 change of the curriculum, 170 ; visit 
 to the Mississippi University, 192; 
 urged to become a candidate for the 
 chair of Physics and Chemistry at 
 Mississippi University, 192 ; declines 
 the chair of Chemistry at Missis- 
 sippi University, 193; accepts the 
 chair of Mathematics and Natural 
 Philosophy in Mississippi Univer- 
 sity, 194; his ordination as deacon, 
 195 ; preaches his first sermon, 195 ; 
 preparations for removal to Oxford, 
 Miss., 195. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. Arrival at Missis- 
 sippi University, 197 ; course of lect- 
 ures on experimental chemistry 
 added to his other duties, 198; re- 
 ceives priest's orders, 198 ; condition 
 of the University, 198 ; in charge of 
 the Episcopal Church, Oxford, 
 Miss., 198; inquiry into the Semi- 
 nary Fund, 199; goes to Jackson, 
 
 Miss., to investigate, 200; address 
 before the State Legislature, Jack- 
 son, Miss., 201; at the inaugura- 
 tion of the Dudley Observatory 
 at Albany, N. Y., 202; appointed 
 President of the University of Mis- 
 sissippi, 203; discipline improved, 
 204 ; power of the faculty increased, 
 204 ; his speech before the trustees, 
 205 ; instruction in the University 
 intrusted to the faculty, 205; Chan- 
 cellor of the University of Missis- 
 sippi, 205 ; the curriculum of arts, 
 207; plans for reorganization, 208; 
 open letter to the board of trustees, 
 209 ; efforts to secure an astronomi- 
 cal observatory, 221. 
 
 CHAPTER X. Effect of his Open 
 Letter, 234; difficulties and dis- 
 couragements, 235; two years of 
 progress, 235 ; letter to Dr. Hilgard, 
 236; correspondence with Bishop 
 Polk, 237 ; University of the South, 
 237 ; Bishop Green's scheme to visit 
 and study educational institutions, 
 238; letter to Dr. Hilgard, 238; dis- 
 couraged, 239 ; letter to Dr. Hilgard, 
 239 ; appointed chairman of the com- 
 mittee to inquire into the Coast Sur- 
 vey of the United States, 242 : letter 
 to Dr. Hilgard, 242 ; report of Coast 
 Survey with introduction explana- 
 tory, 243 ; address before the Society 
 of the Alumni of Yale, 244; degree 
 of Doctor of Laws, Yale, 244; de- 
 gree of Doctor of Laws, Jefferson 
 College, Miss., 244; work on the 
 astronomical observatory, 244 ; tele- 
 scope for his observatory now at 
 Dearborn Observatory, Chicago, 
 245 ; petty persecutions, 246 ; student 
 assaults a female servant, 246 ; not 
 at liberty to convict on negro evi- 
 dence, 247; trial of student before 
 the faculty, 247 ; secrecy of faculty 
 meeting disregarded, 248; faculty 
 convinced of student's guilt, resolu- 
 tion adopted, 248; resolution lost to 
 suspend the student, 248; accused 
 of trying to convict a student on 
 negro evidence, 249 ; charges brought 
 by Dr. Branham, 249 ; investigation 
 of the charges by the board of trus- 
 tees, 250; the charges of Dr. Branham 
 laid before the board by Barnard, 
 250; resolutions that the charges 
 
476 
 
 INDEX 
 
 are wholly unsustained, adopted 
 unanimously, 251; as a man of 
 Northern birth living South before 
 the war, 251 ; his views on slavery, 
 252; "sound on the slavery ques- 
 tion," 253; a Union man, 253; ser- 
 mon on the Union, delivered at 
 Oxford, Thanksgiving Day, Nov., 
 1856, 255; extract from report of 
 trustees of Mississippi University on 
 his retirement, 258 ; his action in pro- 
 tecting his helpless servant justified, 
 258 ; letter from Mr. Jacob Thomp- 
 son, 258 ; at Jefferson Da vis's recep- 
 tion, Oxford, 1860, 259 ; annoyed at 
 the charge of secret disloyalty, 260 ; 
 accepts appointment to accompany 
 Astronomical Expedition to Labra- 
 dor, 260 ; his account of expedition 
 to Labrador, 261 ; elected President 
 of American Association for the 
 Advancement of Science, 269; pre- 
 vented by the war from presiding 
 in 1861, 269 ; presides at the Chicago 
 meeting of the Association, 1868, 270. 
 CHAPTER XI. Political excite- 
 ment in the South, 271; did not 
 share in the delusion that a peace- 
 able dissolution was possible, 273; 
 interview with Mr. De Bow, 273; 
 expects war as a result of seces- 
 sion, 274; his love for the Union, 
 274; letter to Miss Gilliss, 274; 
 for the Union, " first, last, and for- 
 ever," 275; events following the 
 inauguration of Lincoln, 276 ; objects 
 to students joining the military, 277 ; 
 addresses a circular letter to the 
 parents and guardians of students, 
 278; resigns chancellorship of Uni- 
 versity of Mississippi, 278; with- 
 draws his resignation at the request 
 of trustees, 279 ; letter to Miss Gil- 
 liss, 279 ; final resignation, 284 ; hope 
 against hope that hostilities may 
 soon cease, 280 ; his position in the 
 South at the beginning of the war, 
 280; attends the Montgomery con- 
 vention of the Episcopal Church, 
 281 ; his sermon at Oxford, June 13, 
 1861, 282 ; misapprehension North and 
 South, 283 ; ruined by secession, 284 ; 
 honorary degree of Doctor of Sacred 
 Theology, 284; endeavors to secure 
 passport to the North, 284 ; appointed 
 inspector of military schools of South 
 
 Carolina and Virginia, 285 ; visit to 
 Craney Island, James River, 285; 
 his joy at seeing the United States 
 flag, 285; visit to Jefferson Davis 
 in Richmond, 286 ; his interview with 
 Jefferson Davis, 286; visit to mili- 
 tary academy at Lexington, 287 ; his 
 farewell to the trustees of the Uni- 
 versity of Mississippi, 287 ; lives in 
 Norfolk, Va., until the city is cap- 
 tured by Federal troops, 288; at 
 Washington as a "refugee," 289; no 
 longer doubts the issue of the con- 
 flict, 290 ; visits with Mrs. Barnard, 
 President Lincoln, 290; appointed 
 to position in the Coast Survey, map 
 and chart department, 291; Letter 
 to the President by a Refugee, 291 ; 
 changes his opinion on the slavery 
 question, 292 ; criticism of Mr. Lin- 
 coln in his Letter, 293; danger of 
 treason at the North, 295; the North 
 and the West, 297; elected Presi- 
 dent of Columbia College, 298 ; let- 
 ters from General W. T. Sherman, 
 298-300. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. History of King's 
 and Columbia College, 301-338. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. As President of 
 Columbia College, 339 ; college and 
 university, 339 ; his efforts on behalf 
 of the School of Mines, 341 ; secures 
 an intelligent and powerful support 
 for his administration, 343 ; selection 
 of topic for his inaugural address, 
 343 ; conflict of science and religion, 
 344; The Relation of Physical 
 Science to Revealed Religion, in- 
 augural address, Columbia College, 
 344; his inaugural address widely 
 copied in periodicals of the time, 
 361. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. United States 
 commissioner to the Exposition, 
 Paris, 1867, 382 ; travels in Europe, 
 363 ; Vienna, 1873, 363 ; United States 
 commissioner to the Exposition, 
 Paris, 1876, 363; receives from 
 French government decoration of 
 an officer of the Legion of Honor, 
 363; his true life as an educator, 
 363; discouragement at the begin- 
 ning of presidency, 364; his report 
 on rules of conduct, 365 ; advocates 
 admission of students to participate 
 in the government of the college, 
 
INDEX 
 
 477 
 
 366; his rules concerning attend- 
 ance at college exercises, 367 ; candi- 
 dates admitted without preliminary 
 examination, 376; recommends a 
 system of school visitations to ex- 
 amine senior classes for admission 
 to the college, 377 ; urges the revival 
 of the grammar school which once 
 existed in connection with the col- 
 lege, 378. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. Change of view on 
 the subject of elective studies, 379; 
 professional schools maintained 
 apart from the college, 379 ; changes 
 in the curriculum at Columbia, 380 ; 
 system of running schools of London 
 and Paris, 380 ; collegiate education 
 gaining favor, 383; the growing 
 interest in physical science, 384; 
 "clamor" against classical studies, 
 384 ; statistics of American colleges, 
 385 ; reports the successful operation 
 of the elective system, 389; revival 
 of the double course, 389 ; again re- 
 ports the satisfactory working of the 
 elective system, 1876, 390 ; urges an 
 extension of the elective system of 
 study, 393. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. Consistency of his 
 change of view on the elective sys- 
 tem, 396 ; describes the college of the 
 future, 398; favors post-graduate 
 instruction, 399; his plan to make 
 Columbia a great University, 399; 
 graduate fellows employed as as- 
 sistant teachers, 400 ; Columbia the 
 American University of the future, 
 402; his last report (1888), no mis- 
 fortune if Columbia College should 
 cease to exist as a school for under- 
 graduate students, 404; urges the 
 creation of fellowships, 404 ; on the 
 expediency of admitting women to 
 all departments of Columbia, 407; 
 objections to women entering Co- 
 lumbia, 411 ; urges that the presence 
 of women in colleges is conducive 
 to good order, 412; his account of 
 English colleges, 414 ; again presses 
 upon the trustees the importance of 
 admitting women to Columbia, 415 ; 
 abandons the hope of living to see 
 women admitted to Columbia, 418 ; 
 the founding of Barnard College for 
 women, 422. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. His early educa- 
 
 tion and its defects, 424 ; his knowl- 
 edge of Latin and Greek, 425; 
 education as a science, teaching 
 as an art, 426; his knowledge of 
 modern languages, 426; to establish 
 a department of the history, theory, 
 and practice of education, 427 ; the 
 ideal school, 439; his contributions 
 to literature, 446; his publications 
 on educational and other subjects, 
 447 ; his contributions to the Ameri- 
 can Association for the Advance- 
 ment of Science, 447; his annual 
 reports and addresses, 448 ; as editor- 
 in-chief of Johnson's Cyclopaedia, 
 449; the honors bestowed on him, 
 450; the growth of Columbia Col- 
 lege under his presidency, 454 ; 
 his last report, 1887, ends with a 
 few remarks which he describes as 
 "apologetic," 456; his resignation 
 as President of Columbia College, 
 1888, 457 ; his death, April 27, 1889, 
 461; his funeral at St. Thomas' 
 Church, 461; buried at Sheffield, 
 Mass., 462 ; his will, 462; bequests to 
 Columbia College, 462 ; his courage- 
 ous patience under great affliction, 
 468 ; as a college governor, 469 ; his 
 sympathetic character, 470; a posi- 
 tive man, 407 ; his religious charac- 
 ter, 470 ; extract from a sermon by 
 Bishop Potter, 470. 
 
 Barrows, Rev. Professor, 41. 
 
 Bartlett, David Ely, 65, 79. 
 
 Beecher, Miss Catherine, 47; her 
 method of teaching Latin, 47. 
 
 Beecher, Miss Harriet, 48. 
 
 Beekman, Henry, 305. 
 
 Beekman, Gerard, 458. 
 
 Benagh, Professor, 171. 
 
 Benjamin, Park, 69. 
 
 Berkeley, Bishop, 302. 
 
 Betts, William, professor of law, 331. 
 
 Betts, Kev. Beverly R., librarian, 
 302. 
 
 Blake's First Lessons in Natural Phi- 
 losophy, 26. 
 
 Boston University, 414. 
 
 Brace, Julia, deaf, dumb, and blind, 
 74. 
 
 Branham, Dr., 249. 
 
 Brewer, Josiah, 35. 
 
 Brown, Samuel R., 79. 
 
 Brown, Rev. Dr., 462. 
 
 Burnaby, Rev, Dr., 311. 
 
478 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Canterbury, Archbishop of, 304. 
 
 Carter, Rev. William, 41; friendship 
 for Barnard, 44. 
 
 Carter, Professor, 248. 
 
 Cary, Mr., 79. 
 
 Chambers, Mr., 307. 
 
 Chandler, Professor Charles F., 334. 
 
 Chapin, Rev. Dr. A. L., letter from, 
 42. 
 
 Chapman's Sermons, 40. 
 
 Clark, Lewis Gaylord, 62. 
 
 Clark, Alvan, 244. 
 
 Clarkson, David, 305. 
 
 Classical studies in early years, 17. 
 
 Clerc, M. Laurent, 72. 
 
 Clossy, Dr., 312. 
 
 Cobbs, Dr., Bishop of Alabama, 105. 
 
 College, examinations at Yale in 1824, 
 31 ; government of, 143, 145 ; visita- 
 tion of rooms by professors, 152 ; life 
 in America compared with English, 
 163 ; influences on morals and man- 
 ners of students, 164; system of 
 education in Alabama and Virginia 
 Universities, 169; elective system 
 of studies, 170; discipline in the 
 University of Mississippi, 246; and 
 University, their functions, 339; 
 discipline, 364 ; participation of stu- 
 dents in government of colleges, 366 ; 
 exercises, rules, 367; marking sys- 
 tem, 368; cheating in examination 
 room, 373; oral examinations, 373; 
 grading of classes, 374 ; faults in sys- 
 tem of marking, 370 ; classical stud- 
 ies, 381, 384 ; modern languages, 381 ; 
 systematic mental training as a prep- 
 aration for professional life, 396; 
 elective studies, 379, 391; curricu- 
 lum overloaded, 388; mental disci- 
 pline, 387 ; age of entering, 397 ; the 
 fellowships, 404 ; admission of wom- 
 en, 407, 409, 410, 413, 420; courses 
 in Scottish Universities, 427 ; Univer- 
 sity courses, 428; evening lectures, 
 430; philosophy of education, 431. 
 
 COLUMBIA COLLEGE, Barnard elected 
 President, 298; University of the 
 State of New York organized 1784, 
 319 ; the college known as King's to 
 be called Columbia College, 319; 
 first trustees, 320; organization of 
 the board of trustees, 320 ; William 
 Samuel Johnson, LL.D., first Presi- 
 dent of Columbia College, 1787, 321 ; 
 Faculties of Arts and Medicine, 
 
 321 ; faculty of Medical School en- 
 larged, 321 ; college library enlarged, 
 322; enlargement of the faculty of 
 college, 322 ; Kent, James, Professor 
 of Law, 322; further appropriation 
 from Legislature refused, 322; re- 
 duced means and consequences, 323; 
 Dr. Johnson resigns presidency, 
 1800, 323; Dr. Wharton, of Phila- 
 delphia, elected President, 1801, 323 ; 
 Dr. Wharton resigns, 324; Right 
 Rev. Bishop Moore appointed Presi- 
 dent, 324; Bowden, Rev. Dr., 324; 
 internal organization of the college 
 under Bishop Moore, 324 ; new char- 
 ter, 1810, 325 ; report of the Regents, 
 
 1810, 325; Bishop Moore resigns, 
 
 1811, 326; new office of provost 
 created, 326 ; the Rev. William Har- 
 ris elected President, 326 ; Rev. Dr. 
 John M. Mason elected provost, 326 ; 
 the division of responsibility abol- 
 ished, 326; the Medical School in- 
 corporated with the College of 
 Physicians and Surgeons, 1813, 326 ; 
 the Botanic Garden granted to the 
 College, 326; history and value of 
 the grant, 327 ; extension, altera- 
 tions, and repairs to buildings, 327 ; 
 Dr. Wilson retires, and receives an 
 annuity, 328 ; Dr. Adrain, Professor 
 of Mathematics and Astronomy, 
 328 ; Mr. James Renwick, Professor 
 of Natural and Experimental Phi- 
 losophy, 328; Mr. C. Anthon and 
 Mr. N. F. Moore appointed to the 
 position vacated by Professor Moore, 
 328 ; McVickar, Professor, 328 ; Mr. 
 James Kent appointed Professor of 
 Law, and delivers lectures after- 
 wards expanded into his great com- 
 mentaries, 329; grammar school 
 established, 329 ; John D. Ogilby ap- 
 pointed master of grammar school, 
 329; grammar school discontinued 
 in 1864, 329; death of Dr. Harris, 
 329; Hon. W. A. Duer, LL.D., ap- 
 pointed President, 1829, 329 ; double 
 course of study, Literary and Scien- 
 tific, discontinued in 1843, 330 ; the 
 fiftieth anniversary celebrated in 
 1837, 330; additions to the college 
 library, 330; Moore, Professor, 
 librarian, 330; Nathaniel F. Moore 
 succeeds President Duer, 1842, 331 ; 
 Professorship of German estab- 
 
INDEX 
 
 479 
 
 listed, 331; Tellkampf, Professor 
 John Lewis, 331; Schmidt, Rev. 
 Henry L, 331; chair of elocution 
 established, 1844, 331 ; William Betts, 
 A.M., succeeds Chancellor Kent, 
 331; Charles King, LL.D., elected 
 to succeed Dr. Moore, 331 ; order of 
 emeritus professors established, 332 ; 
 Renwick, Dr., first of emeritus pro- 
 fessors, 332 ; plans for post-graduate 
 instruction, 332 ; College removed to 
 the buildings occupied by the New 
 York Institution for the Instruction 
 of Deaf and Dumb, 1857, 332 ; plans 
 for parallel course of study, 333; 
 trustees organize a Law School 
 under Professor Dwight, 1858, 334; 
 Lieber, Professor Francis, 334; 
 Nairne, C. M., 334; Ordronaux, Dr. 
 John, 334; School of Mines estab- 
 lished, 1864, 334 ; Egleston, Thomas, 
 Jr., Professor of Mineralogy, 334; 
 Vinton, Brigadier-General Francis 
 G., Professor of Mining Engineer- 
 ing, 334; Chandler, Charles F., Pro- 
 fessor of Analytical and Applied 
 Chemistry, 334 ; resignation of Pres- 
 ident King, 335; Rev. F. A. P. 
 Barnard, LL.D., elected President of 
 Columbia College, 1864, 335 ; its con- 
 dition at the time of Dr. Barnard's 
 appointment, 340. 
 
 Dr. Barnard's inaugural address, 
 The Relation of Physical Science to 
 Revealed Religion, 344 ; does not rec- 
 ognize such a conflict, 345 ; system 
 of education at Columbia adapted to 
 prepare students for any pursuit or 
 profession, 345; study of physical 
 science and religion, 346 ; the Bible 
 and modern science, 348; scientific 
 research in accordance with God's 
 will, 349 ; the study of nature tends 
 to foster the spirit of humility, of 
 devotion, etc., 351; the recognition 
 of law in nature not destructive of 
 belief in miracle to the mind of any 
 man who believes in God, 352 ; sci- 
 ence favorable to sound religion, 
 353; extracts from Milman, 354; 
 Milman's view of Christianity, 355 ; 
 present relations of physical science 
 to revealed religion, 355 ; the Bible 
 not a book of science, 356 ; the evo- 
 lutionary theory, 357 ; religious men 
 should study science and refrain 
 
 from pronouncing upon its tenden- 
 cies until they understand it, 358; 
 earnest Christians should be culti- 
 vators of scientific study, 359; a 
 certain spirit prevalent among sci- 
 entific men ought to be corrected, 
 359 ; spirit of Christian forbearance, 
 360. 
 
 Number of students, 364; disci- 
 pline Barnard's first care, 365 ; the 
 marking system, 369; standard of 
 scholarship dependent upon peri- 
 odical examinations, 370; marking 
 system abolished, 1869, 370; final 
 order of merit obtained by combin- 
 ing results of monthly examina- 
 tions, 372 ; the new method of order 
 of merit open to some objections, 
 372 ; increase of students after 1872, 
 376; revival of the double course, 
 389 ; success of the elective system, 
 390; elective system of study adopted 
 for the Junior and Senior years, 393 ; 
 Dr. Barnard on the admission of 
 women to Columbia, 407; the ex- 
 pediency of admitting women to 
 Columbia, 408 ; a course of study 
 for women outside the college, but 
 under the direction of the faculty, 
 420; students of Barnard and Co- 
 lumbia study together Senior year, 
 422; table of attendance 1865 to 
 1888, 423 ; ought to have a depart- 
 ment of the history, theory, and 
 practice of education, 427; evening 
 lectures proposed by Dr. Barnard, 
 430; the Academic Departments in 
 1885, 451 ; its growth under the 
 presidency of Dr. Barnard, 454; 
 schools for the instruction of grad- 
 uates, 455 ; Dr. Barnard's resigna- 
 tion as President, 1888, 457 ; report 
 of special committee appointed to 
 consider Dr. Barnard's resigna- 
 tion, 458 ; Dr. Barnard's bequests to 
 Columbia College, 462 ; Extract from 
 Minutes of Meeting of the Trustees 
 of Columbia College, 465 ; Extract 
 from the Minutes of the Alumni of 
 Columbia College, 466. 
 
 Cooper, Rev. Myles, President of 
 King's College, 312, 317. 
 
 Collier, Hon. Henry W., 143. 
 
 Cornbury, Lord, Governor, 302. 
 
 Cornell University, 386, 411. 
 
 Cruger, John, 305 ; Henry, 305. 
 
480 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Curtis, Jared, head master at Stock- 
 bridge Academy, 22. 
 Cooper, Ashley, at Stockbridge, 23. 
 Gushing, Leonard, 310. 
 Gushing, Matthew, 312. 
 
 Daggett, Oliver E., 37. 
 
 Dana, Professor, 90. 
 
 Day, Henry N., 37. 
 
 Day, George E., 79. 
 
 Day, Dr., President of Yale, 35, 36, 83. 
 
 Davis, Mr. Jefferson, visits Oxford, 
 Miss., 259. 
 
 De Bow, J. B., editor of The Southern 
 Review, 273. 
 
 De Lancey, Oliver, 305. 
 
 De Lancey, Lieutenant-Governor 
 James, 305, 306. 
 
 Dewey, Rev. Orville, 14; letter to 
 Barnard, 234. 
 
 Dix, Rev. Dr., 458, 462, 465. 
 
 Domino Harbor, 263-266. 
 
 Drisler, Professor, 364. 
 
 Duffie, Rev. Dr., 462. 
 
 Duer, Hon. W. A., President of Colum- 
 bia College, 329. 
 
 Dutch Church, New York, appoint- 
 ment of Professor at King's College, 
 308. 
 
 Dwight, T. W., Professor of Law, 
 334. 
 
 Dwight, President, of Yale, 462. 
 
 Education, home training, 9; influ- 
 ence of teachers on Barnard as a 
 child, 10; method of instruction in 
 village school, 11 ; the village school, 
 11; religious instruction in New 
 England village school, 13; gram- 
 mar school, 14; grammar school 
 method of instruction, 15 ; Saratoga 
 Academy method of instruction, 17 ; 
 Stockbridge Academy, preparatory 
 school for college, 22 ; itinerant lec- 
 turers, 25; object teaching, 26; 
 school discipline, 30; college exam- 
 ination at Yale, 1824, 31 ; system of 
 instruction at Yale, 1824-1828, 33; 
 literary societies at Yale, 1824-1828, 
 36; Hartford grammar school, pre- 
 paratory school for college, 41; on 
 the study of Greek and Latin, 45; 
 Governing Board of Yale College, 
 65 ; teachers of deaf-mutes, 71 ; sign- 
 language of deaf-mutes, 73; Bar- 
 nard's method of instruction in 
 
 Mathematics and Natural Philoso- 
 phy, 88; government of colleges, 
 145 ; law of dismission at Yale, 147 ; 
 discipline at Yale, 147 ; visitation of 
 rooms by professors, 152 ; American 
 college life compared with English, 
 163 ; influences of college life on the 
 morals and manners of the students, 
 164 ; system of education in Alabama 
 and Virginia universities, 169; the 
 elective system of studies, 170 ; value 
 of the curriculum of arts, 206 ; a case 
 of college discipline in the Univer- 
 sity of Mississippi, 246 ; college disci- 
 pline, 364; students to participate 
 in the government of colleges, 366 ; 
 rules concerning attendance at col- 
 lege exercises, 367 ; marking system 
 in colleges, 368; term-mark, 369; 
 counter-system of demerit marks, 
 369; faults in the system of mark- 
 ing used in Columbia College, 370; 
 cheating in examination room, 373 ; 
 oral examinations, 373; grading of 
 classes, 374 ; method of determining 
 academic rank practised at Yale, 
 375 ; faculties sent to schools to ex- 
 amine senior classes for admission 
 to college, 377; students entering 
 college frequently found not to have 
 received preliminary training, 377; 
 elective studies, 379; modern lan- 
 guages, 381; Latin and Greek, 381; 
 Harvard College system of study, 
 381; theory of college curriculum 
 exclusively for mental discipline re- 
 jected, 387 ; college curriculum over- 
 loaded, 388 ; the elective system of 
 study, 391 ; systematic mental train- 
 ing as a preparation for the serious 
 studies of professional life, 396 ; the 
 age at which young men enter col- 
 lege, 397; young men entering col- 
 lege have usually formed some idea 
 of their future occupation, 397; col- 
 lege studies more or less directly 
 serviceable, 398 ; the fellowship sys- 
 tem, 404; the admission of women 
 to colleges, 407 ; women in colleges, 
 409; higher education of women in 
 England and America, 409; women 
 admitted in more than half the col- 
 leges of United States, 410 ; the sexes 
 more occupied with each other than 
 with their books, 413 ; establishment 
 of Barnard College for women, 420; 
 
INDEX 
 
 481 
 
 the work of a teacher in preparatory 
 schools, 424 ; as a science, teaching 
 as an art, 426 ; Barnard's suggestion 
 for department of history, theory 
 and practice of education, 427; 
 courses in the Scottish universities, 
 427; love of elegant letters awak- 
 ened, 429; evening lectures, 430; the 
 philosophy of education to be a part 
 of our university teaching, 431; 
 errors in the education of children, 
 431; begun at the wrong end, 432; 
 educational process should com- 
 mence with the culture of percep- 
 tive powers, 433; mental training 
 of boys in preparatory schools, 433 ; 
 habits of study acquired in school, 
 435 ; study of botany, geology, and 
 mineralogy, 436 ; the sciences of clas- 
 sification, 436 ; study of modern lan- 
 guages, 437 ; advantages of the course 
 of study indicated by Dr. Barnard, 
 438 ; the " ideal school," as Dr. Bar- 
 nard describes it, 439; clothing of 
 boys, 439; its site in the country, 
 439; the schoolroom, 439 ; the work- 
 shop, 440; study of the vegetable 
 kingdom, 440; study of trees, 440; 
 specimens gathered, 442 ; drawing on 
 blackboard, 442; teacher's instruc- 
 tion illustrated by lantern views, 
 444; same course applied to the 
 animal kingdom, 443; elements of 
 experimental science, 444; system 
 of learning begun without the use 
 of printed aids produces earnest 
 students of books, 444; how to teach 
 modern languages, 445. 
 
 Edwards, Jonathan, lawyer, 43. 
 
 Ellsworth, Henry L., 62. [mutes, 71. 
 
 Epee, Abbe de 1', teacher of deaf- 
 Faculties, Yale College, 400. 
 
 Faculties sent to schools to examine 
 senior classes for admission to col- 
 lege, 377. 
 
 Field, David Dudley, Timothy, Mat- 
 thew, Cyrus, and Stephen at Stock- 
 bridge, 23. 
 
 Fish, Hon. Hamilton, 462. 
 
 Florida, boundary commission, 102. 
 
 Freemasonry, 95. 
 
 Gallaudet, Dr. Thomas, founder of the 
 American Institution for the Deaf 
 and Dumb, Hartford, 72. 
 2i 
 
 Garland, Professor L. C., 88. 
 
 Gilliss, Miss, sends Barnard a minia- 
 ture flag of the Union, 274; letter 
 from Barnard, 279. 
 
 Gilliss, Lieutenant, 290. 
 
 Girton College, 409. 
 
 Goodrich, Professor, 35. 
 
 Grammar School, King's, 313. 
 
 Green, Bishop, of Mississippi, 238. 
 
 Hamilton, Alexander, 316. 
 
 Hardy, Governor Sir Charles, 309. 
 
 Harris, Rev. William, President of 
 Columbia College, 326. 
 
 Hartford Grammar School, 38-41. 
 
 Harper, Robert, 320. 
 
 Harper, Joseph W., 458. 
 
 Hall, Dr. John, 462. 
 
 Harvard University, the astronomical 
 observatory, 244; elective studies, 
 381, 382 ; system of study, 381 ; Har- 
 vard, 386. 
 
 Haynes, Joseph, 305. 
 
 Herrick, Edward L., 81. 
 
 Hilgard, Dr., letter from Barnard, 
 236. 
 
 Hill, Professor, 193. 
 
 Hillyer, Hon. Giles M., 206. 
 
 Hoffman, Dean, 462. 
 
 Holbrook, Josiah, 25. 
 
 Holland, William M., 35. 
 
 Hopkins, Mark, at Stockbridge, 23. 
 
 Hopkins, Albert, at Stockbridge, 23. 
 
 Hopkins, John Henry, at Stockbridge, 
 23. 
 
 Hoppin, W. W., 37. 
 
 Independence oration at Tuskaloosa, 
 Fourth of July, 1851, 108 ; birthday 
 of American liberty, 112 ; new 
 States, 112 ; Federal Constitution, 
 112 ; growth of republic, 113 ; popu- 
 lation of United States, 113; America 
 as a leading power, 115 ; enemies of 
 the republic, 116; hostility of the 
 South, 117; slavery in the South, 
 118; tariff act, 1828-32, 119; the 
 South dependent on the North for 
 necessaries, 121 ; the troubles be- 
 tween North and South not attribu- 
 table to the Constitution, 122 ; wealth 
 and industry, 124; manufacturing 
 and non-manufacturing peoples, 126 ; 
 legislation, 127; an agricultural 
 community, 128; the South buying 
 from the North, 129; economical 
 
482 
 
 INDEX 
 
 distribution of labor, 131; British 
 trade and import duties, 132; im- 
 portation of machinery and skilled 
 workmen, 134; advantages of adopt- 
 ing such a policy, 135 ; unstableness 
 of riches in the South, 136 ; a word 
 of warning against separation, 137. 
 
 Johnson, Rev. Mr., 193. 
 
 Johnson, William, 310. 
 
 Johuson, Dr., of Hartford, 303. 
 
 Johnson, Rev. Dr. Samuel, President 
 of King's College, 304 ; resigns the 
 presidency, 312. 
 
 Johnson, William Samuel, President 
 of Columbia College, 321. 
 
 Johnson's Cyclopaedia, 449. 
 
 Kane, Judge J. K., 241. 
 
 Kennedy, Archibald, 305. 
 
 Kent, James, Professor of Law, Co- 
 lumbia College, 322, 328. 
 
 King, Dr. Charles, President of Co- 
 lumbia College, 298, 331. 
 
 Kingsley, Professor, 35. 
 
 KING'S COLLEGE, sketch of the history 
 of, 301 ; first mention in the records 
 of Trinity Church, 1703, 302 ; Bishop 
 Berkeley, 302 ; Cornbury, Lord-Gov- 
 ernor, 302; Dr. Johnson of Hartford, 
 303 ; an act to raise money by public 
 lottery towards the founding of a 
 college, 1746, 303; appointing of 
 trustees, 303; dislike of a church 
 establishment, 303; Johnson, Dr. 
 Samuel, appointed President, 304; 
 Royal Charter granted, 1754, 304; 
 first matriculation of students in 
 1754, 304 ; appointment of Governors 
 under the Royal Charter, 305 ; Can- 
 terbury, Archbishop of, 304; Lord 
 Commissioners of Trades and Plan- 
 tations, 304 ; Lieutenant-Governor 
 of New York, 304; Dr. Johnson's 
 letter to Bishop Sherlock, 305 ; op- 
 position to the charter, 305; De 
 Lancey, Lieutenant-Governor, and 
 Mr. Goldsbrow Banyer deliver the 
 charter to the Governors, 1755, 306; 
 Trinity Church conveys land to the 
 corporation of King's College, 306 ; 
 the President of King's College 
 should be a member of the Church 
 of England, 306; dread of the be- 
 ginning of a church establishment, 
 307 ; appointment of a Professor of 
 Divinity of the Dutch Church, 308 ; 
 
 King's College seal, 308 ; foundation 
 stone of college buildings laid, 1756, 
 309; first commencement, 310; de- 
 grees conferred at first commence- 
 ment, 310; Johnson, Dr., resigns 
 the presidency, 1763, 312; the Rev. 
 Myles Cooper elected President, 1763, 
 312 ; grant of land in the county of 
 Gloucester and how it was lost, 312 ; 
 grammar school established, 1767, 
 313 ; Medical School and foundation 
 of New York Hospital, 313; condi- 
 tion of the college in 1773, 314 ; dis- 
 pute between the American colonies 
 and England, 315; political contro- 
 versies, 316; the mob enters Dr. 
 Cooper's apartment, 317 ; Dr. Cooper 
 sails for England, 317; the Rev. 
 Benjamin Moore appointed Prseses 
 pro tempore, 317; college buildings 
 occupied by troops, 317 ; suspension 
 of King's College from 1776 to 1784, 
 318. 
 
 Labrador, Barnard's account of Astro- 
 nomical Expedition, 261 ; sails from 
 New York, 261 ; steamer on a reef, 
 262; an Esquimau visits the ship, 
 263; Domino Harbor, 263; fishing 
 village at Domino, 264; Barnard 
 preaches to the fishermen, 264; 
 children baptized, 264; Barnard ac- 
 companies fishermen to catch cod, 
 265 ; description of village life, 265 ; 
 religious sentiment of inhabitants 
 at Domino, 266 ; process of curing 
 fish, 266 ; bread-stuff and vegetables, 
 266 ; burial of the dead, 266 ; scien- 
 tific object of expedition, 267 ; deso- 
 lateness of the country, 268; Coast 
 Survey, 268; Mount Bache, 268; 
 homeward progress slow, 268 ; acci- 
 dent to the ship, 269 ; arrival at New- 
 port, R. L, 269 ; reception of the expe- 
 dition by the American Association 
 for the Advancement of Science, 269. 
 
 Lady Margaret Hall, Oxford, 414. 
 
 Laurie, Professor, of the University 
 of Edinburgh, 428. 
 
 Law's Letters to Bishop Hoadley, 40. 
 
 Letters on College Government, 143. 
 
 Letter to the President of the United 
 States by a Refugee, 291. 
 
 Lieber, Professor Francis, 334. 
 
 Lincoln, elected President, 271 ; Presi- 
 dent Barnard's visit to, 290. 
 
INDEX 
 
 483 
 
 Lispenard, Leonard, 305. 
 
 Livingston, Brockholst, 321. 
 
 Livingston, William, 305. 
 
 Livingston, James, 305. 
 
 Livingston, John, 305. 
 
 Lodge, Abraham, 305. 
 
 Longstreet, Hon. A. B., President of 
 
 the University of Mississippi, 193, 
 
 198, 200 ; resigns, 202. 
 Lotteries for raising money for King's 
 
 College, 303. 
 
 McRae, Hon. John J., 200, 288. 
 
 McMurray, Miss Margaret, 104. 
 
 Manly, Dr. Basil, President of the 
 University of Alabama, 84. 
 
 Martin, Joseph, 305. 
 
 Marston, Nathaniel, 305. 
 
 Mason, Rev. Dr. John M., Provost of 
 Columbia College, 326. 
 
 Masonry, Barnard's oration on The 
 Claims of Masonry to the Respect 
 and Veneration of Mankind, 95. 
 
 Meek, Hon. Judge A. B., 92. 
 
 Meek, Colonel S. M., 192. 
 
 Meiklejohn, Professor, of the Univer- 
 sity of St. Andrews, 428. 
 
 Michigan, University of, 386, 415. 
 
 Miller, Mr., editor of The Monitor, 
 91. 
 
 Mississippi, University of, 197 ; its en- 
 dowment, 199 ; commissioner ap- 
 pointed by the State, 201 ; President 
 Longstreet resigns, 202 ; Open Letter 
 to the Board of Trustees of the Uni- 
 versity of Mississippi, 210 ; work of 
 a college, 210 ; necessity of reform, 
 211; first course of study ending 
 with Bachelor of Arts, and a second 
 course ending with Master of Arts, 
 211; reconstruction of undergradu- 
 ate course, 211; post-graduate de- 
 partment, 212; admission to post- 
 graduate schools, 212 ; instruction in 
 post-graduate schools, 213; recita- 
 tions, 213 ; post-graduate schools to 
 have no formal recitations, 314 ; time 
 devoted to undergraduate course, 
 214 ; University a Universitas Scien- 
 tiarum, 217; reply to the objections 
 that " higher learning is useless, be- 
 cause it is not practical," 218 ; science 
 of astronomy, 222 ; mathematical cal- 
 culations, 228 ; why the State of Mis- 
 sissippi should participate in educa- 
 tion, 230; the interests of the people 
 
 of the State promoted by the advance 
 of the State University, 232; noble 
 institutions of learning are evidences 
 of the true greatness of the State, 
 233 ; two years' progress under Chan- 
 cellor Barnard, 235; extract from 
 report on Barnard's retirement, 
 258; ordinance of secession, 272; 
 students form themselves into a 
 military company, 277 ; the Univer- 
 sity Greys, at the seat of war, 278 ; 
 classes broken up by the war, 278 ; 
 trustees refuse to accept Barnard's 
 resignation, 279; University de- 
 serted, 279; turned into a military 
 school, 284. 
 
 Mobile Register (The), Letters on Col- 
 lege Government, 143-145. 
 
 Moore, Rev. Benjamin, of King's Col- 
 lege, 317. 
 
 Moore, the Right Rev. Bishop, Presi- 
 dent of Columbia College, 324. 
 
 Moore, Nathaniel F., 328 ; President of 
 Columbia College, 331. 
 
 Moore, C. C., 302. 
 
 Morgan, Christopher, 37. 
 
 Morgan, Junius L., 62. 
 
 Murray, Joseph, 305. 
 
 Nash, Stephen P., 458, 462. 
 
 Newnham Hall, Cambridge, 414. 
 
 Newport, Rhode Island, 269. 
 
 New York Institution for the Instruc- 
 tion of Deaf and Dumb. 76, 97. 
 
 New York City during the cholera 
 epidemic in 1832, 77. 
 
 Niles, John M., 62. 
 
 Nicoll, Benjamin, 305. 
 
 Ogilby, John D., master of Columbia 
 
 Grammar School, 329. 
 Olmstead, Professor, 34. 
 Onderdonk's Episcopacy Tested by 
 
 Scripture, 40. 
 Ordronaux, Dr. John, 334. 
 Oxford, Miss., 192. 
 
 Palmer, William P. H., at Stockbridge, 
 
 23. 
 
 Patton, President, of Princeton, 462. 
 Peet, Harvey Pringle, 76. 
 Pegues, Colonel A. H., 249. 
 Pericaris, Gregory, 83. 
 Pettus, Governor, 272. 
 Philipse, Frederick, 305. 
 Polk, Bishop, 237. 
 
484 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Porter, Dr. Joshua, Barnard's grand- 
 father, 1, 17. 
 
 Porter, Augusta, Barnard's mother, 1 ; 
 her descendants, 2. 
 
 Porter, Hon. Augustus, Dr. Barnard's 
 brother-in-law, 11. 
 
 Potter, Horatio (Bishop), 62. 
 
 Potter, Eight Rev. Bishop, 462; ex- 
 tract from a Baccalaureate sermon 
 preached a few weeks after Dr. 
 Barnard's death, 470. 
 
 Potter, President, of Hobart, 462. 
 
 Pratt, Professor, 171. 
 
 Prentice, George D., editor of The New 
 England Review, 49. 
 
 Presbyterian College at Lagrange, 
 203. 
 
 Printing, Dr. Barnard's knowledge of, 
 19. 
 
 QUEEN'S COLLEGE, London, 414. 
 
 Randolph, John, of Roanoke, 321. 
 
 Read, Joseph, 305. 
 
 Rebellion, war fever spreading 
 throughout the South, 277 ; Southern 
 dioceses of the Episcopal Church 
 and the war, 281; Southern under- 
 estimate of the spirit and resources 
 of the North, 282; Craney Island, 
 James River, 285; Barnard's inter- 
 view with Jefferson Davis, 286 ; re- 
 sources of the North, 289 ; Barnard's 
 Letter to the President, 292. 
 
 Religious " Society " in New England 
 village, 3; the meeting-house, 3; 
 the pulpit, 4 ; the pews, 4 ; the gal- 
 lery, 5 ; the tithing-man, 5 ; the ser- 
 mon, 5; the choir, 6; the pitch-pipe, 
 6 ; rebuilding the meeting-house, 7 ; 
 publishing the banns, 8. 
 
 Ren wick, James, 328. 
 
 Report to modify the plan of instruc- 
 tion in Alabama University by Dr 
 Barnard, 168. 
 
 Report of the Coast Survey, 243. 
 
 Revolution, King's College occupied by 
 troops, 317. 
 
 Rutgers Female College, 409. 
 
 Richard, Paul, 305. 
 
 Ritzema, Rev. Mr., 307. 
 
 Robinson, Joseph, 305. 
 
 Salisbury, Conn., 1. 
 Salisbury Iron Works, 27. 
 Saratoga Academy, 17, 22. 
 Schermerhorn, W. C., 458, 462. 
 
 Schmidt, Rev. Henry I., 331. 
 
 Sedgwick.Theodore, at Stockbridge, 23. 
 
 Sheffield, Mass., Dr. Barnard's birth- 
 place, 1 ; character of inhabitants, 2 ; 
 and the valley of the Housatonic, 
 description of, 2; a New England 
 village at the beginning of the cen- 
 tury, 3 ; " the stage," 3 ; a New Eng- 
 land parish, 3; the meeting-house, 
 3 ; the pastor, 3 ; the pulpit, 4 ; old- 
 fashioned pews, 4 ; gallery of meet- 
 ing-house, 5; the sermon, 5; the 
 choir, 6; the pitch-pipe, 6; addi- 
 tions to the meeting-house, 7 ; mov- 
 ing the meeting-house, 8 ; posting of 
 public notices, 8; mode of publish- 
 ing banns of marriage, 9; village 
 school, 11. 
 
 Sharkey, Judge W. L., 288. 
 
 Sherman, General W. T., letters to 
 Barnard, 298. 
 
 Sicard, Abbe, teacher of deaf-mutes, 
 71, 72. 
 
 Sigourney, Mrs. Lydia Hunt, 62. 
 
 Silliman, Professor, 35, 412. 
 
 Slavery in the South, 252. 
 
 Smith, Hon. W. R., 92. 
 
 Somerville Hall, Oxford, 414. 
 
 Southron, The, a literary monthly 
 magazine, 92. 
 
 Special Responsibilities and Oppor- 
 tunities of Educated Men as Citi- 
 zens, 244. 
 
 Stafford, Professor, 171. 
 
 Starr, Rev. William, 462. 
 
 Stockbridge Academy, the future col- 
 lege presidents, Hopkins and Barn- 
 ard, 23. 
 
 Strong, William, 37. 
 
 Tellkampf , Professor John Lewis, 331. 
 
 Temperance, Sons of, 106. 
 
 Thompson, Colonel Jacob, 193, 200; 
 letter to Barnard, 258. 
 
 Treadwell, Mr., 310. 
 
 Trinity Church, 302, 306. 
 
 Tuskaloosa, first capital of Alabama, 
 88 ; state-house given to the Univer- 
 sity of Mississippi, 89; removal of 
 the seat of government to Mont- 
 gomery, 89; Barnard's Fourth of 
 July oration, 1851, 108. 
 
 United States, political excitement in 
 the South after the Mexican War, 
 108. 
 
INDEX 
 
 485 
 
 Universities of England, 161 ; govern- 
 ing body of the college, 162; disci- 
 pline, 162. 
 
 Van Amringe, Professor J. H., 302. 
 Van Bur en, John, 37. 
 Van Planck, Philip, 305. 
 Vassar College, 409. 
 Vaysse, Leon, 76, 79. 
 Vinton, Brigadier-General Francis L., 
 334. 
 
 Waddell, Rev. Dr., 203; President of 
 
 the Presbyterian College, Lagrange, 
 
 202. 
 
 Walton, William, 305. 
 Watts, John, 305. 
 Webb, President, College of City of 
 
 New York, 462. 
 Weld, Mr. Lewis, 72. 
 Wells, Gideon, 62. 
 Wharton, Dr., President of Columbia 
 
 College, 323. 
 
 Whittier, J. G., editor of The New 
 
 England Review, 50. 
 Willis, Miss Sarah P. (Fanny Fern), 49. 
 Willis, Miss, 52. 
 Woolsey, President T. D., 36. 
 
 Yale College, examination of Barnard, 
 32; college examinations, 1824, 31; 
 Barnard's observations on the sys- 
 tem of education at Yale, 1824-28, 
 33; debating and literary societies 
 in Barnard's time, 36; social influ- 
 ences of college life, 37 ; change from 
 single tutor in all branches of study, 
 to instruction by experts, 64; fac- 
 ulty, or governing board, 65 ; ser- 
 vices in college chapel, 66; a case 
 of discipline, 67 ; law of dismission, 
 147; discipline, 147; method of de- 
 termining academic rank, 375; re- 
 port of the faculty, 401. 
 
 Young, Colonel George, 192. 
 
CLASSICAL STUDIES 
 
 IN HONOUR OF 
 
 Henry Drisler 
 
 WITH PORTRAIT AND ILLUSTRATIONS 
 8vo. Cloth, pp. viii + 310. $4.00, net. 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 On the meaning of nauta and viator in Horace, Sat. I. 5, 11-23. By SIDNEY G. 
 ASHMORE. Anaximander on the Prolongation of Infancy in Man. By NICHOLAS 
 MURRAY BUTLER. Of Two Passages in Euripides' Medea. By MORTIMER 
 LAMSON EARLE. The Preliminary Military Service of the Equestrian Cursus 
 Honorum. By JAMES C. EGBERT, Jr. References to Zoroaster in Syriac and 
 Arabic Literature. By RICHARD J. H. GOTTHEIL. Literary Frauds among the 
 Greeks. By ALFRED GUDEMAN. Henotheism in the Rig- Veda. By EDWARD 
 WASHBURN HOPKINS. On Plato and the Attic Comedy. By GEORGE B. HUSSEY. 
 
 Herodotus VII. 61, or Ancient Persian Armour. By A. V. WILLIAMS JACKSON. 
 
 Archaism in Aulus Gellius. By CHARLES KNAPP. On Certain Parallelisms 
 between the Ancient and the Modern Drama. By BRANDER MATTHEWS. 
 Ovid's Use of Colour and Colour-Terms. By NELSON GLENN McCREA. A 
 Bronze of Polyclitan Affinities in the Metropolitan Museum. By A. C. MERRIAM. 
 
 Geryon in Cyprus. By A. C. MERRIAM. Hercules, Hydra, and the Crab. 
 By A. C. MERRIAM. Onomatopoetic Words in Latin. By H. T. PECK. 
 Notes on the Vedic Deity Pusan. By E. D. PERRY. The So-Called Medusa 
 Ludovisi. By JULIUS SACHS. Aristotle and the Arabs. By WILLIAM M. 
 SLOANE. Iphigenia in Greek and French Tragedy. By BENJAMIN DURYEA 
 WOODWARD. Gargettus, an Attic Deme. By C. H. YOUNG. 
 
 MACMILLAN & CO., 
 
 66 FIFTH AVENUE, - NEW YORK. 
 
FROM THE PRESS 
 
 " Many glimpses of fields almost untrodden in Greek and Latin literature are given 
 in this volume." The New York Tribune. 
 
 " A recent publication which will appeal to every American scholar. . . . The papers 
 are kept strictly within the lines of scholarship and criticism in which Dr. Drisler himself 
 has been engaged. On the part of the contributors they are an offering of what is choicest 
 and best in their own profession, a rich and delightful mosaic of American scholarship, 
 which will bear study part by part, and which, in the combined setting of the parts, is an 
 incomparable tribute to the incomparable Nestor of our American Greek schools." The 
 Independent. 
 
 " The circumstances of the issue of this handsome volume give it an emotional inter- 
 est, which makes it a volume separate and distinct among the collected records of the 
 investigations of scholars. It is a gathering of twenty-one studies of classical problems, 
 printed as a tribute to one of the best-known classical students of the present day, at the 
 conclusion of fifty years of his service in a single institution. . . . These circumstances 
 give this volume an interest to all persons concerned with scholarship and university 
 influences. The studies themselves, for the most part, appeal in the first instance to 
 specialists, but many of them have a much wider interest. . . . The book is a credit to 
 American scholarship, as well as a fit tribute to the honored name of Professor Drisler." 
 The Outlook. 
 
 " Entirely apart from the special interest which its contents possess for the student of 
 the classics, the publication of this handsomely printed volume has some features that are 
 of general significance. It gives evidence, for one thing, of the Germanization of our 
 classical scholars, not only in their methods of research and the other weightier matters of 
 the law, but also in the minor points of academic custom and tradition. In Germany it 
 has long been the practice for the friends and former pupils of a distinguished scholar to 
 celebrate some epoch of his career by the publication, in his honor, of a collection of 
 scientific monographs relating to the special subjects in which his life-work has been spent 
 and his reputation won. ... So far as the writer knows, the work that has just appeared 
 from the new Columbia University Press the first to be issued by that organization is 
 the only one of the kind yet published in honor of an English-speaking scholar. . . . This 
 collection of monographs is particularly instructive as practically illustrating the economic 
 principle of the division of labor applied to scholarly pursuits. The stock charge that 
 has been brought against the intense and minute specialization of the present day, is that 
 specialists in their devotion, each to his own limited field of research, lose their sense of 
 perspective, despise the equally important labors of their fellow-specialists, and come to 
 feel that the part is greater than the whole. Such a volume as the present affords a practi- 
 cal and ample refutation of that view. Here we see investigators in many different fields 
 of study, not only using in their own work the garnered results of other specialists, but 
 ably and effectively throwing upon the problems of other workers the special knowledge 
 that their own research has enabled them to give. . . . The appearance of the volume is 
 unusually attractive and reflects credit upon the Columbia University Press, whose work 
 of publication is thus so appropriately and so auspiciously begun." The Educational 
 Review. 
 
 MACMILLAN & CO., 
 
 66 FIFTH AVENUE, - - NEW YORK, 
 
 2 
 
MUNICIPAL HOME RULE 
 
 A STUDY IN ADMINISTRATION 
 
 BY 
 
 FRANK J. GOODNOW, A.M., LL.B., 
 
 Professor of Administrative Law in Columbia College; Author of 
 " Comparative Administrative Law " 
 
 i2mo. Cloth, pp. xiv + 238. $1.50, net. 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Introduction. American and European Municipal Government. The Public 
 Character of American Municipal Corporations, and the Failure of the Legisla- 
 ture to set aside a Sphere of Municipal Home Rule. The Effect of the 
 American System of protecting Private Rights upon the Attitude of the Legis- 
 lature towards Municipal Corporations. The Effects of the American Law as 
 to Municipal Powers on the Attitude of the Legislature towards Municipal Corpo- 
 rations. The Constitutional Limitations of the Power of the Legislature over 
 Municipal Affairs. The Means of delimiting the Sphere of Private Action of 
 Municipal Corporations in the American Law. What are Municipal Affairs 
 from the Point of View of the Liability of Municipal Corporations for Torts. 
 What are Municipal Affairs from the Point of View of the Liability of Municipal 
 Corporations for their Management of Property. What Municipal Property is 
 protected by the Constitutional Provisions protecting Private Property. What 
 Municipal Property is Subject to Alienation. What is the Sphere of Private 
 Municipal Action recognized by the American Law. European Methods of 
 distinguishing and securing the Sphere of Municipal Home Rule. 
 
 MACMILLAN & CO., 
 
 66 FIFTH AVENUE, - - NEW YORK. 
 3 
 
FROM THE AMERICAN PRESS 
 
 " It is a careful and thorough study of the problem which will merit the attention ol 
 legislators and students." Springfield Republican. 
 
 " Professor Goodnow's is a work which all who have an interest in this subject . . . 
 could profitably read." Philadelphia Evening Telegraph. 
 
 " This work is a carefully prepared and suggestive one." Chicago Tribune. 
 
 " Professor Goodnow has put into his compact little volume a great quantity of informa- 
 tion that will be found valuable by students of municipal law and politics and by lawyers 
 generally. . . . His work will serve to open many lines of thought on municipal adminis- 
 tration that cannot fail to produce good results." New York Times. 
 
 " Should find a place in the library of all students of the municipal problem as a 
 valuable book." The Outlook. 
 
 " A fresh, able, and logical discussion of a subject to which but little attention has 
 hitherto been paid." Boston Record. 
 
 " To a correct understanding of the problem of municipal reform in all its bearings 
 Professor Goodnow's book is really indispensable." Boston Beacon. 
 
 " Here is without doubt one of the most trenchant and scholarly contributions to politi- 
 cal science of recent writing, remarkable for analytical power and lucidity of statement." 
 Chicago Evening Post. 
 
 " It would be a most excellent thing if this book were included in the curriculum of our 
 public schools." Chicago Journal. 
 
 " A timely work and one of unmistakable significance and utility as well as erudition." 
 Milwaukee Sentinel. 
 
 " Cannot fail of a wide and favorable reception." Albany Law Journal. 
 
 " A thoroughly good book and withal a very timely book ... a fair, candid, historic 
 treatment of a difficult problem." New York Herald. 
 
 FROM THE ENGLISH PRESS 
 
 " The treatise is carefully written. It will be of utility in America as a guide to munici- 
 pal law, while for the world at large it is a valuable contribution to the literature of com- 
 parative jurisprudence." Manchester Guardian. 
 
 " Mr. Goodnow's book should be a useful stimulus to his own countrymen, and to 
 British readers it can be commended as a clear and interesting account of some of the 
 most important and to us the most obscure of American institutions." Glasgow Herald. 
 
 " We question if any other book before has achieved quite the important service to 
 what may be termed theoretic municipalism. . . . One that all those interested in munici- 
 pal matters should read. . . . Moderate in tone, sound in argument, and impartial in its 
 conclusions, it is a work that deserves to carry weight." London Liberal. 
 
 "A valuable contribution to the literature of local government." London Surveyor. 
 
 "As a study in comparative local government ... of interest and importance." 
 Edinburgh Scotsman. 
 
 MACMILLAN & CO., 
 
 66 FIFTH AVENUE, - NEW YORK, 
 4 
 
SCIENCE OF STATISTICS, PART I 
 
 STATISTICS AND SOCIOLOGY 
 
 By RICHMOND MAYO-SMITH, Ph.D., 
 
 Professor of Political Economy and Social Science in Columbia College 
 
 8vo. Cloth, pp. xvi + 399. $3.00, net. 
 
 Sociology is the science which treats of social organization. It has for object of 
 research the laws which seem to underlie the relations of men in society. It studies social 
 phenomena. But the sociologist meets two great difficulties ; one is the enormous number 
 and complexity of these social phenomena, and the second is the lack of any precise 
 means of measuring or gauging social forces. History and observation give us general 
 knowledge of these phenomena. In some directions one can reach quantitative measure- 
 ments in addition to mere qualitative description. This is done by means of statistics. 
 The science of Statistics is therefore one of the most important instruments of investiga- 
 tion in Sociology. 
 
 The object of this book is to show how Statistics should be used by the sociologist and 
 to give some of the results thus far attained. In each chapter special'emphasis is laid on 
 the right use of the method, and the ordinary fallacies and misuse of statistics are care- 
 fully pointed out. The object is to furnish the student of sociology and the general reader 
 with the most interesting facts and at the same time to make him competent to judge of 
 the value of the evidence. 
 
 The material gathered in this volume is all included under Population Statistics. It 
 deals with the classification of population according to sex, age, and conjugal condition, 
 with births, marriages, deaths, sickness, and mortality; the social condition of the com- 
 munity is considered under the statistics of families, dwellings, education, religious confes- 
 sion, infirmities, suicide, and crime; ethnographic problems are dealt with under race and 
 nationality, migration, population and land (physical environment), and population and 
 civilization (social environment). The causes affecting each phenomenon, e.g. scarcity of 
 food, and crime, are carefully considered in each case. 
 
 The author has utilized the material furnished by the recent American and European 
 censuses of 1890 and 1891 which has just become accessible. This material will not be 
 superseded for ten years at least. For current statistics such as births, marriages, and 
 deaths he has used the averages for the decade 1880-90 as being typical rather than the 
 figures for a single year. While the book is not a manual of statistics in the ordinary 
 sense, it contains all the important facts about population critically arranged and analyzed. 
 The reader is not sent adrift among a lot of tables, but the relation of the facts to each 
 other is carefully observed. At the same time a topical index makes the book useful as a 
 dictionary of population statistics. 
 
 The present volume is issued as Part I. of a systematic Science of Statistics, and is 
 intended to cover what is ordinarily termed Population Statistics. The author has in 
 preparation Part II., Statistics and Economics, which will cover the statistics of commerce, 
 trade, finance, and economic social life generally. 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Introduction. Statistics in the Service of Sociology. The Criteria of Statistics. Method 
 of Study. Book I. Demographic. Sex, Age, and Conjugal Condition. Births. 
 Marriages. Deaths. Sickness and Mortality. Book II. Social. Social Condition 
 (Families and dwellings, education, religious confession, and occupations). The Infirm 
 and Dependent Suicide. Crime. Book III. Ethnographic. Race and Nation- 
 ality. Migration. Book IV. Government. Population and Land (Physical Environ- 
 ment) . Population and Civilization (Social Environment) . Index by Topics. Index 
 by Countries. 
 
 MACMILLAN & CO., 
 
 66 FIFTH AVENUE, - - NEW YORK. 
 
 5 
 
FROM THE PRESS 
 
 " Professor Mayo-Smith's long expected work on statistics is sure to take front rank 
 in the literature of the subject in the English language. It is not a book of statistical 
 references, but is rather a work devoted to the interpretation of statistical data. . . . The 
 success which greeted Professor Mayo-Smith's earlier sketch, ' Statistics and Economics,' 
 will doubtless be accorded in still greater measure to his more ambitious effort. The situ- 
 ation of our statistical literature is such that even a poor performance in this field would 
 be of importance. A work which has the scholarly character of the present volume can 
 count upon an assured success." Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social 
 Science, 
 
 " It embodies the conclusions of a pioneer in the field, who has been lecturing on sta- 
 tistics for a dozen years at Columbia College, and who, by his teaching and influence, has 
 contributed to arouse an enlightened interest in the subject. This work will extend and 
 deepen that interest among students of affairs ; and by providing a text-book, which might 
 be used for a class either with or without supplementary lectures, it should make the 
 introduction of the subject into the curricula of other institutions possible. This volume 
 contains the only full statement in the English language of the general principles and con- 
 clusions of statistics, and it is a matter of congratulation that an American scholar should 
 be the first to offer such a work to the public." The Educational Review. 
 
 " An exceedingly useful work. . . . From a vast range of reliable sources Professor 
 Mayo-Smith, an expert in statistical methods, has brought together a mass of ordered 
 materials which bear on social problems ; and students of sociology are deeply his debtors. 
 Many vague notions and insecure theories will be tested by the yard-stick of this book, 
 and no serious workers can afford to ignore it. ... It is a distinct merit of the work that 
 the data compiled are arranged in a way to excite interest and lead to results." The Dial. 
 
 " No more important work bearing on the subject of social science has been issued 
 recently. In 1890 and 1891 full and complete censuses were taken in the United States, 
 England, Scotland, Ireland, Germany, France, Austria, and India, and Professor Mayo- 
 Smith has availed himself of the results of these to present in intelligible and scientific 
 form such of the statistics as bear directly upon the most important and vital sociological 
 and economical questions of the day, which are pressing themselves home not only upon 
 students, sociologists, and publicists, but upon intelligent men generally. ... In brief, the 
 book may be accepted as an authority, and its value, filling a place too long vacant in the 
 literature of sociological science, is not easily exaggerated." Boston Daily Advertiser. 
 
 " Far from being an arid text-book, these statistical facts are so systematically arranged 
 and presented, with such ingenious and instructive comment, as to furnish in small com- 
 pass a vast magazine of curious facts with no little interesting reading, at least to any one 
 taking the slightest interest in sociology. The indexing cannot be too highly commended, 
 rendering, as it does, a wide range of statistics instantly available." The Milwaukee 
 Sentinel. 
 
 " The work is a novelty in American literature, nothing of the kind ever having been 
 before issued. It is also a model of method and ought to be as safe a guide as the mari- 
 ner's compass has been to the navigator in the past. . . . While the author has published 
 a text-book for the student and a guide for the statistician, he has also issued a very inter- 
 esting work for common perusal." The Detroit Tribune. 
 
 MACMILLAN & CO., 
 
 66 FIFTH AVENUE, - - NEW YORK. 
 
 6 
 
ATLAS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 FERTILIZATION AND KARYOKINESIS 
 OF THE OVUM 
 
 By EDMUND B. WILSON, Ph.D., 
 
 Professor of Invertebrate Zoology in Columbia College 
 
 WITH THE CO-OPERATION OF 
 
 EDWARD LEAMING, M.D., P.R.P.S., 
 Instructor in Photography at the College of Physicians and Surgeons, Columbia Collegt 
 
 WITH TEN PHOTOGRAPHIC PLATES AND NUMEROUS DIAGRAMS 
 
 Extra 8vo. Cloth, pp. vii + 32. $4.00, net. 
 
 This work comprises forty figures, photographed from nature by Dr. Learning from the 
 preparations of Professor Wilson at an enlargement of one thousand diameters, and 
 mechanically reproduced by the gelatine process, without retouching, by Edward Bierstadt 
 of New York. The plates are accompanied by an explanatory text, giving a general intro- 
 duction to the subject for the use of students and general readers, a detailed description 
 of the photographs, and over sixty text-figures from camera-drawings. 
 
 It is the object of this atlas to place before students and teachers of biology a practically 
 continuous series of figures photographed directly from nature, to illustrate the principal 
 phenomena in the fertilization and early development of the animal egg. The new science 
 of cytology has in the course of the past two decades brought forward discoveries relating 
 to the fertilization of the egg and the closely related subject of cell-division (karyokinesis) 
 that have called forth on the part of Weismann and others some of the most important 
 and suggestive discussions of the post-Darwinian biology. These discoveries must in 
 some measure be dealt with by every modern text-book of morphology or physiology, yet 
 they belong to a region of observation inaccessible to the general reader or student, since 
 it can only be approached by means of a refined histological technique applied to special 
 objects not ordinarily available for practical study or demonstration. A knowledge of the 
 subject must therefore, in most cases, be acquired from text-books in which drawings are 
 made to take the place of the real object. But no drawing, however excellent, can convey 
 an accurate mental picture of the real object. It is extremely difficult for even the most 
 skilful draughtsman to represent in a drawing the exact appearance of protoplasm and the 
 delicate and complicated apparatus of the cell. It is impossible adequately to reproduce 
 the drawing in a black-and-white text-book figure. Every such figure must necessarily be in 
 some measure schematic and embodies a considerable subjective element of interpretation. 
 
 The photograph, whatever be its shortcomings (and no photograph can do full justice 
 to nature), at least gives an absolutely faithful representation of what appears under the 
 microscope ; it contains no subjective element save that involved in the focussing of the 
 instrument, and hence conveys a true mental picture. It is hoped, therefore, that the pres- 
 ent work may serve, a useful purpose, especially by enabling teachers of biology to place 
 
 7 
 
before their students a series of illustrations whose fidelity is beyond question, and which 
 may serve as a basis for either elementary or advanced work in this direction. 
 
 Following is a partial list of the points clearly shown in the present series: The 
 ovarian egg, with germinal vesicle, germinal spot and chromatin-network ; the polar 
 amphiaster with the " Vierergruppen " or quadruple chromosome-groups ; the unfertilized 
 egg, after extrusion of the polar bodies; entrance of the spermatozoon, the entrance-cone; 
 rotation of the sperm-head, origin of the sperm-aster from the middle-piece, growth of the 
 astral rays; conjugation of the germ-nuclei, extension and division of the sperm-aster; 
 formation of the cleavage-nucleus ; the attraction-spheres in the resting-cell ; formation of 
 the cleavage-amphiaster, origin of the spindle-fibres and chromosomes ; division of the 
 chromosomes, separation of the daughter-chromosomes; structure and growth of the 
 astrosphere ; degeneration of the spindle ; formation of the " Zwischenkorper " ; origin of 
 the chromatic vesicles from the chromosomes ; reconstruction of the daughter-nuclei ; 
 cleavage of the ovum ; the two-celled stage at several periods showing division of the 
 archoplasm-mass, " attraction-spheres " in the resting-cell, formation of the second cleavage- 
 amphiasters. 
 
 FROM THE PRESS 
 
 " A work which is an honor to American scholarship." Philadelphia Evening Tele- 
 graph. 
 
 " Professor Wilson has rendered a great service to teachers and students in the publica- 
 tion of the splendid series of micro-photographs of these different processes. These are 
 accompanied by an admirably lucid text." The Dial. 
 
 " It is not often that one is permitted to examine a piece of work which is done, in all 
 respects, on an ideal standard, as this is. ... It is safe to say that the whole area engaged 
 in the fertilization and division of the ovum has never been shown or the forces traced 
 with such precision before." The Independent. 
 
 " Every biologist owes the greatest gratitude to the authors and publishers of this 
 beautiful volume; and only those who have labored themselves to make good photo- 
 graphic plates from specimens exhibiting karyokinesis, can appreciate the wonderful 
 delicacy of the results." Natural Science. 
 
 " This work is of a very high order, and both by its merit and its opportuneness is a 
 noteworthy contribution to science. . . . The pictures obtained represent the highest 
 perfection of micro-photography yet reached, especially as applied to protoplasmic struct- 
 ures. ... To the whole is prefixed an abundantly illustrated "General Introduction" 
 in which Professor Wilson gives a summary of our present knowledge of our history of 
 the ovum, so far as it has any bearing on the problems of fertilization. It would be very 
 difficult to surpass this introduction, owing to its felicitous combination of terseness, 
 clearness, and completeness. The work takes its place at once as a classic, and is certainly 
 one of the most notable productions of pure science which have appeared in America. 
 It will be valuable to every biologist, be he botanist or zoologist, be he investigator or 
 teacher." Science. 
 
 MACMILLAN & CO., 
 
 FIFTH AVENUE, - - NEW YORK. 
 8 
 
JUST READY 
 
 AN ATLAS OF NERVE CELLS 
 
 BY 
 
 M. ALLEN STARR, M.D., Ph.D., 
 
 Professor of Diseases of the Mind and Nervous System, College of Physicians and Surgeons, 
 
 Medical Department of Columbia College ; Consulting Neurologist to the Presbyterian 
 
 and Orthopedic Hospitals, and to the New York Eye and Ear Infirmary 
 
 WITH THE CO-OPERATION OF 
 
 0. S. STRONG, Ph.D., and EDWARD LEAMING, M.D. 
 Extra 4to. Cloth. $10.00, net. 
 
 UNIFORM WITH DR. WILSON'S " ATLAS OF THE FERTILIZATION OF THE OVUM " 
 
 52 PLATES. 8 FIGURES. 
 
 It is the object of this atlas to present to students and teachers of histology a series of 
 photographs showing the appearance of the cells which form the central nervous system, 
 as seen under the microscope. These photographs have been made possible by the use 
 of the method of staining invented by Professor Camillo Golgi of Turin. This method 
 has revealed many facts hitherto unknown, and has given a conception of the structure and 
 connections of the nerve cells both novel and important. 
 
 In the most recent text-books of neurology and in the atlas of Golgi these facts have 
 been shown by drawings and diagrams. But all such drawings are necessarily imperfect 
 and involve a personal element of interpretation. It has seemed to me, therefore, that a 
 series of photographs presenting the actual appearance of neurons under the microscope 
 would be not only of interest but also of service to students. The Golgi method lends 
 itself very readily to the photographic process, for the cell, with its dendrites and neuraxon, 
 is stained black upon a light yellowish ground, and thus is capable of giving a sharp pict- 
 ure. In the preparation of this Atlas I have had the co-operation of Dr. O. S. Strong, who 
 has cut and stained the specimens, and of Dr. Edward Learning, whose skill in photogra- 
 phy has made this work possible. Dr. Strong has been able to produce remarkably suc- 
 cessful sections of the various parts of the nervous system, both brain and spinal cord, and 
 has made some valuable modifications of Golgi's methods. He has contributed a section 
 upon the technique, containing many original and important suggesiions. In the art of 
 photographing microscopic specimens Dr. Learning has been particularly successful. It 
 can be readily imagined that the difficulties of obtaining a clear picture focussed in one 
 plane upon the photographic plate are at times almost insuperable, the microscopist 
 ordinarily bringing various planes into his vision by the aid of the fine adjusting screw of 
 the instrument. By care in the selection of specimens, by ingenious contrivances to 
 ensure a perfect focussing, and by the use of various methods adapted to each emergency, 
 Dr. Learning has succeeded where others have failed. He has contributed a section of 
 much value upon the photographic technique. The photographs have been reproduced 
 in a painstaking manner by Mr. Edward Bierstadt, whose process of autotyping has been 
 selected after a careful comparison with other methods of reproduction ; and it can be 
 justly said that they show every detail of the original photographs. 
 
 In presenting this Atlas I have not attempted to write an exhaustive account of nervous 
 histology, but rather to present a brief review of the essential facts so far as they can be 
 seen by the aid of the Golgi stain, and to show how these facts aid in the knowledge of 
 nervous action. I may be permitted, however, to point out that this atlas is based mainly 
 upon preparations from the human nervous system ; that it not only includes the spinal 
 cord, cerebellum, and brain cortex, which have been studied by Golgi, Cajal, Van Gehuch- 
 ten, Retzius, and Lenhossek, but also presents original studies of the corpora quadrigemina, 
 optic thalamus, and lenticular and caudate nuclei, and is thus quite complete in its scope. 
 It is my intention at some future time to issue another volume which will include the 
 peripheral nerves and their terminations and the organs of sense. 
 
 MACMILLAN & CO., 
 
 66 FIFTH AVENUE, - NEW YORK. 
 
 9 
 
JUST READY 
 
 THE 
 
 PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY 
 
 BY 
 
 FRANKLIN HENRY GIDDINGS, M.A., 
 
 Professor of Sociology in Columbia College 
 
 8vo. Cloth, pp. xvi + 476. $3.00, net. 
 
 This work is primarily a contribution to the theoretical organization of sociology, 
 but it is an outgrowth of actual university instruction and has been written with especial 
 reference to the needs of university students. It differs from previous treatises on 
 sociology in two important respects : first, in its account of the differentiation of social 
 phenomena from phenomena of all other kinds ; second, in its exclusion of topics that 
 are properly economic or political rather than sociological. The entirely just criticism 
 has been passed upon sociological theory as heretofore stated, that it has lacked unity. 
 While political economy has worked out a consistent theory by studying the consequences 
 that follow from a single trait of human nature, namely, the desire for wealth, abstrac- 
 tion being made for the time of all other motives, sociology, without a guiding principle 
 of its own, has attempted to piece together the results of many sciences of man and his 
 relations. Professor Giddings attempts to supply the guiding principle. He discovers in 
 one particular state of consciousness, which is coextensive with potential society and with 
 nothing else, the true cause of all distinctively social action, and deduces from it the 
 sociological laws. 
 
 The work consists of four books, as follows: Book I., The Elements of Social 
 Theory; Book II., The Elements and Structure of Society, with four subdivisions, 
 namely: Part I., The Social Population; Part II., The Social Mind; Part I II., The Social 
 Composition; Part IV., The Social Constitution; Book III., The Historical Evolution 
 of Society, also in four parts, treating, respectively, of four stages of progress, namely: 
 Part I., Zoogenic Association; Part II., Anthropogenic Association; Part III.. Ethno- 
 genic Association; Part IV., Demogenic Association; Book IV., Social Process, Law, 
 and Cause. The doctrine of the historical chapters will be that association was the cause 
 of the evolution of human qualities in the transition from animal to man, and not vice 
 versa, and, in like manner, that the dense populations of modern times have been made 
 possible by the civil form of association. The fourth book deals with the relation of voli- 
 tion in society, and the attempt to realize social ideals, to physical causation working 
 through natural selection. 
 
 MACMILLAN & CO., 
 
 66 FIFTH AVENUE, - NEW YORK. 
 10 
 
RETURN TO the circulation desk of any 
 University of California Library 
 
 or to the 
 
 NORTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 Bldg. 400, Richmond Field Station 
 University of California 
 Richmond, CA 94804-4698 
 
 ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS 
 
 2-month loans may be renewed by calling 
 (510)642-6753 
 
 1-year loans may be recharged by bringing 
 books to NRLF 
 
 Renewals and recharges may be made 4 
 days prior to due date. 
 
 DUE AS STAMPED BELOW 
 
 JUN12199? 
 
 At IE 9. 1QQP 
 
 12,000(11/95) 
 
226521 
 
 olfe & Fiske Do 
 
 r*hwmy Bookitore