1501 L53W9 UNlVERSiTY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES EDUCATIOiV. AN DELIVERED AT LEICESTER, BEFORE THE trustees nvCtt stittr^nts ot acfcestcr ^caKentB, CONVENED TO DEDICATE THE NEW AND COMMODIOUS EDIFICE ERECTED FOR THE BETTER ACCOMMODATION OF THE STUDENTS, DECEMBER 25, 1833. By LUTHER WRIGHT, A. M., Principal Preceptor. TO WHICH IS ADDED, A CONCISE HISTORY OF THE INSTITUTION. WORCESTER t PRINTED BY S. H. COLTON AND CO. 1834. Ta'.KT.sTr.R AfADF.Mv, Dec. 2o, l.-*;]J]. Mr. LuTUF.u Wrioiit, Principal J'ncrjUor of Leicester Academy : Dr. AH Sir : At a nieolingof llie Bo.irJ of Trustees convened to dedicate the new, com- modious, and Bpacious Building, erected for the better accommodation of the ytudentR, the undersigned were appointed a Committee to express to you the thanl i of the Trustees for your able and appropriate discourse, on tlie subject of Education, this day delivered. and to solicit of you a copy for publication. Permit us to express a hope that you will gratify the Board of Trustees bj a compliance with their request. We are, Sir, with sentiments of respect, your obedient servants. Abij.\h BiGF.r.ow, \ S. M. Blknsidb, ^ Committee. S.\MUF.L Cl.irk, ) Leicester Academy, Jan. 2, 1834. Hon. AiujAii BiGELOw, S. M. Burnside, Esq., Rev. Samuel Clark, — Committee of the Board of Trustees : Gentlemen : You will please to accept for yourselves and the Board of Trustees, my grateful acknowledgments for the unexpected degree of favor with which you are disposed to regard my performance on the 25th ult., by your requesting of me a copy for publication. As the topics, embraced in my address, were rather ghnc- ed at than fully discussed, it is with much reluctance that I consent to ita publi- cation. I will, however, comply with your wishes, and forward to you in a few days, a copy for your disposal. Accept, gentlemen, the assurance lliat I remain, with sentiments of great respect, your humble servant. Luther Wright. v\ /s ADDRESS. — ^©S— On this occasion, when the commodious edifice, erected for the use of the Academy, has been dedicated to science, literature and religion, it may be suitable for me, in view of the relation which I sustain to this Institution, to offer f^ a few remarks on the subject of Editcation. It is hoped \ the importance of the subject will be an apology for any triteness of remark. 1|' Education, in its most extensive sense, falls within the province of the parent no less than that of tiie public j^ teacher. While the one must cultivate and mould the in- f.^ tellect, and exert also an influence over the heart ; the other, . at home, should exercise a closer inspection of the heart, » to imbue it with a right spirit on all moral and religious ^ subjects, to form the manners, and train the whole character I for the practice of the social and domestic virtuesTj The f-process of education, then, requires much time, great pa- tience, and almost unremitted attention. It is not tiie work n of one quarter at a public school, or of one year. A few y lessons on the importance of mental and moral discipline, ^ is not education. The educator must cheerfully submit to ' the work of frequent repetition, and not suffer himself to *^ be vexed with the necessity of such frequency. And he .i^ must, too, be able to give instruction, derived from a thor- 5 ough investigation of the principles of human nature and '^ an accurate observation of the occurrences of life. For it is knowledge obtained from such sources — a knowledge of character — that ought early to be impressed on the mind. It is this which forms the basis of a good education. It is an intimate arqnaliitancc with the customs and manners of life — with the operations, too, of mind peculiar to indi- viduals, and a capacity to di5tinf,oiish hetween the charac- ter of one individual and that of anotiier, which are the essential qualifications of every good educator. A thousand circunistances occur from the time the infant powers of yesterday began to exist up to manhood, when no other one than tlie parent can give to the young mind the knowl- edge to which I now allude. The work of education, then, is a great work ; and the public teacher does not, and can- not, alone form the intellectual and moral character ; nor ought he to be wholly responsible for its formation. While he instructs in the public school many influences around the fireside and elsewhere are operating either for or against him. These arc influences over which he has generally no control. He surely has little or none that can counteract the influence of indulgent and interfering parents. The injudicious remark of some injudicious parent, in the presence of the refractory child, often defeats the well-directed eflbrts of the most indefatigable teacher to reclaim and urge forward that child in tiie path to intellectual and moral excellence. When he ought to have the steady co-operation of all at home, he is not unfrequently obliged to encounter at the same time both the obstinacy of the child and the folly and stupidity of the parents. In such circumstances, the busi- ness of education cannot be prosecuted with success. The moral influence, which such indiscreet parents exert, cannot fail to thwart the eflbrts of the most assiduous and judicious teachers. (And it may be added that the defects in the education o? many of our youth ought rather to be at- tributed to defects in the system of education at home, than to any deficiency in the system of instruction and discipline at school. I am aware this is not exactly the popular doctrine on this subject. The numerous failures in education are generally charged to the incompetency of public teachers. This charge, however, is in no small degree unjus^D It must not be forgotten, that oftentimes powerful in^ences are operating at home to counteract tliat of the teacher. These, like a mighty torrent, quickly sweep away all the barriers which the best teachers may raise against them. A good system of school discipline must be sustained by a good system of family discipline. If the latter prevail, it is not difficult to maintain good schools in any community : wilii- out it, it is impossible. It is then of vast importance that correct views be entertained in regard to this subject. Unless there exist a high standard oi famUxj education, it will be extremely difficult, if not impossible, to conduct successfidly the great and delightful work of educating the rising generation. The child should understand distinctly that the views of his parent and of his teacher coincide in regard to the way in which he ought to be managed ; and if there should not be perfect coincidence of views, the child should never know it. A free expression of sentiment, in an unguarded moment, in the child's presence, concerning the teacher's management, must obviously operate against the teacher, weaken his influence and paral3'ze his instructions. How often is the tale of the chastised pupil eagerly listened to at home and believed — the judgment formed in regard to the worth and ability of the teacher before any acquaintance with him ; and even before his statement of the child's con- duct has been heard. How often by thus hastily and rashly passing sentence of condemnation on the teacher, does the father strengthen the habit of insubordination in the son, and hurry him on in his own chosen — downward — course. And how often by doing this has the father not only tried exceedingly the feelings of the faithful teacher, but embit- tered his own future existence, and brought down his own grey hairs with sorrow to the grave. This disposition to believe the child and to sympathise with him when smart- ing from deserved correction, and a want of confidence in the teacher, really present some of the greatest obstacles to success with which our public teachers are obliged to con- tend. Nothing besides throws such a shade of sadness over llii/ir iiiiii(l-> — iinlliiiii^ hoitlcs rtiiilri.i ilinr |»rofcb!>i(Jii %o irksome. They I'nnn llitir plans for ilic improvcinont of a |)ii|)il wliuiii soim- iiidnlL'^ciit Catlicr lias left imdcr their care - and IcI'l too with a sjitcial ( har/^^e that they would educate him ill their own way. Thiry proceed to act acconliiif^ to iIk; instrnciloiis f^ivcn ; hut at the very threshold of liicir attempts to improve tlitir ptipil, they arc met with a way- ward temper, — an insolent disposition, and an utter reckless- ness in regard to study, salutary restraint and necessary regulations — in short, with an ungovernable will — the result of indulgence at home. They know that in compliance with the instructions received from the father, this way- wardness — this insolence, this habit of recklessness and in- subordination must be subdued. For they think the father in liis instructions was really in earnest. And they know they must be able to govern and control the son, if they would promote their own interests and enjoyment. They commence the task of reform ; but in a multitude of such cases, they will learn eventually that after all the father said, the refractory son and pupil is sustained at home rather than the teachers. His son's complaints at this school induce the father to remove him to another, and to gratify the indulged, fault-finding, carping son, he is removed to a third, and thus from one to another, till after having been to some half a dozen or more schools in three or four' years, and become al each remove more headstrong and dissipated than before, he completes his education. Such a ruinous course too many pursue who patronize our public institutions of learning. iXone more effectually ruins youth, dissatisfies parents, increases the burdens of teachers and impairs the confidence of the public in our seminaries of education. It is wretched management of a son when the father consults his whims and caprices, and allows him agreeably to his foolish wishes to go the rounds from one public school to another. If he do this, he ought not to charge his teachers, but himself. \\\\.\\ his son's future disgrace and ruin. jTii these remarks, I have glanced at one ol" the greatest dlfficullies which the faithful teacher must meet in the per- formance of the duties of his profession. There is, however, another on which I w ill briefly remark. It results from the rage for improvement which distinguishes the present age. The genius of innovation is abroad in the land, exerting an almost lincontrollable sway over the human mind. In ever}^ department of life — in every branch of education as well as of business, — new things must be tried. Practical wisdom, gleaned for ages from the fields of experience, must be put down as worth nothing in the opinion of modern innovators. These sages would have us believe that more than the wisdom of all past ages is concentrated in the heads of a few of the present generation ; — that our fathers knew comparatively nothing on the subject of education ; — that they misunderstood the nature of those laws which control the operations of the human mind ; — and that they were deplorably ignorant in regard to the best mode of teaching and communicating knowledge. It is not denied that improvement, in some particulars relating to education, has been made. But it is denied that the subject of edu- cation is a complicated one and difficult to be understood ; or that our fathers were unacquainted with the method of education by which they and their descendants could be- come sound scholars?! All the important principles of the science of education have been familiar in past centuries to educated men every where, of good common sense and experience. It is true, those men knew nothing of patent systems of education by steam and rail-roads ; but^hey were familiar with the system which is conducted by Tlie high pressure of application in the old rugged way. And this after all is the only system of any practical importanceTj ^ny other one than that which exacts patient and laborious study, is not the one which I wish to see prevalent among my fellow citizen?r| It was by such study that many among our ancestors were enabled to distinguish themselves for sound scholarship and extraordinary acquisitions. Tiie snitimcul l!i:it niip can Ixcomc .'icqiuiinlc'd wiili ilic piiiici- |)lcs ol' I''.ii^li>li (JriuniDur liy llio aid of maclilncry, or with any otlu-r brancli ofrdiicaiioii hy attendance on some tlirec (»r liair a do/.cu kctiiics, is boili ridieidoiis in the extreme and injin-ious in its tendency. In nothing have the public been more imposed on for the hist do/en years than by (jiiac/ccnj in education, (^nack educators iiavc Ijeen abroad through tlie length and breadth of our huid, cliarging those of us who adhered in any measure to the old order of things, on the subject of education, witji downright stupidity. And their ell'orts to prejudice the public mind against systems of thorough education, and to introduce those which, in their operation, must necessarily produce superficial schol- ars, have been loo successful. It requires much labor and the exercise of great patience to erect the substantial, firm, and well proportioned structure of a good education ; but to raise hastily the frail and insecure fabric of a superficial one, is a work much more easily done. And this is em- phatically a labor-saving age. Any system, therefore, of education, which excuses the young from making severe mental exertion, will probably gratify their inclination. These modern innovators have availed themselves of this inclination to exhibit and recommend to them systems which supersede the necessity of a vigorous, patient, and perse- vering exercise of their intellectual faculties. They have deluded multitudes of them and tlieir parents with idle theories on the subject under consideration, and they have done incalculable mischief to the cause of education and the great interests of societ}'. Here I might remind my audience of a class of individ- uals who may be called travelling lecturers. They go from place to place, delivering lectures on a particular science or branch of education, and promise for a small fee and in a few hours to make those, who attend upon their instructions, adepts in a knowledge of the specified subject. While they arrogate to themselves superior discernment and wis- dom, they usually decry the old method of obtaining and communicating knowledge. Such efforts, in most cases, tend only to unsettle the public mind on the great subject of education ; and confer no benefits unless upon those who obtain their customary fee. But, the course pursued by these itinerant philosophers and teachers, is not the only innovation that claims our brief notice : the delusive, and, for a time, rather popular system of the Military School has also a similar claim upon our attention. I allude not, now, to the thorough and well regulated institution of the kind at West Point, under the patronage and control of the General Government, but, to those repeated experiments of the system, made in some parts of the country, at individual expense. In these Military Schools, it seems to have been the highest aim, to make a great display, not of mind, but of body — not of the results of laborious investigation and research into the mines of science, but a display of military evolution — of parades and marches, all tending directly to defeat the great object of education. While the discipline of the physical powers superseded, to a great ex- tent, that of the intellectual, the moral faculties were under the control of a system of influences, most deplorable in their tendency. In these schools, principles and feelings were fostered, and necessarily called into lively exercise, which are among the first in youth, to be subdued. In the system of government there was nothing parental — nothing of the family character ; the youth were taught to regard themselves in a great degree as soldiers ; and they were under the same general regulations as prevail in the camp. If they could not, by an appeal to the sentiments of the soldier, be influenced to act like soldiers, there were guard houses, with all their terrors, to enforce the observance of the rules of war. In short, every thing in these schools, was made subordinate to the military spirit ; as if it were desirable and necessary, to instil such a spirit into the minds of young men, destined to enter on the various quiet and peaceful professions of life. To me, it has seemed that our 2 10 fellow citizens were never more duped, than in the patron- age they gave to such a system of education. ]Jut, ha[)i)ily, the delusion was not of long continuance. It was soon found that not much was learned at these schools, which ought not to be unlearned ; and that there were few places of education, in which both the intellect and morals were exposed to a more fearful hazard. [u^ith this experiment, however, and its necessary failure, all were not satisfied. Men of influence, in various quar- ters, fond of novelty, and tired of the old order of things, had, for years, been clamorous against the study of the ancient classics. Their clamors had not ceased, wiien the result of the experiment of Military Schools became appa- rent. We have no time, it was said, to spend in the study of the dead languages. Education ought to be more prac- tical. In a system of liberal education, modern languages ought to take the place of Greek and Roman classics^ Numerous were the individuals, who denounced every thing old, relating to education, as necessarily wrong, and who asserted that every new project, introduced professedly for improvement in the science of education, was, of course, the one to be adopted. With these, even the guardians of some of our literary institutions, and the directors of liberal edu- cation, united in their attempts at innovation. For a time, their complaints and opinions seriously threatened to retard the progress of a liberal and enlightened system of educa- tion. The friends of the important interests of such a system, viewed with regret the influence which such opinions exerted over the public mind. Such is the character — such are the views and pursuits of the great mass of our popu- lation, not liberally educated, that the sentiments of those who would discourage the study of the ancient classics, readily meet with great approbation. But our most dis- tinguished men of letters, in common with the classical scholars of Europe, still regarded the study of the ancient languages, as absolutely necessary in any system of liberal and practical education ; and they continued to advocate its H importance. An able writer on this subject has well re- marked, that " the literature of every country in Europe is founded more or less on classical literature, and derives, from this source, its most important illustrations. This is evident, not only from such works as long since appeared, and which form the standard literature of modern times, but, from those more recently published, and even from the periodical works of the day. Classical learning is inter- woven with every literary discussion." In view of these remarks, it appears that the study of the dead languages is emineritly practical. Without it, they w ho pant for distinc- tion in the republic of letters, must ultimately be convinced of their utter inability to succeed. Without a knowledge of the classical allusions on almost every page of modern literature, they are not fitted to relish the beauties of that composition, which is regarded in literary circles with uni- versal admiration. Had we time, we might dwell on the various consider- ations, which show that the study of the ancient classics ought to be regarded, as belonging strictly to a system of practical education. It is truly a practical study, whether considered in its influence on the taste and the imagination) or, in the discipline it gives to every faculty of the mind. A thorough course of classical study, cannot fail to strength- en the judgment and memory, the powers of reasoning, comparison, and discrimination, and a habit of patient re- search — one of vast importance to the student. Such a course of study may be a better mental discipline, than even a course of rigid demonstration in the Mathematics. The study of the classics then is, in a most important sense, prac- tical. In this respect, it is believed, nothing could be substi- tuted, in a system of thorough education, of equal value. It is well known, that the literature of France, Spain, and modern Italy, is based on that of ancient times. A thorough and critical knowledge of their languages, would lead the student to the elements of the ancient languages ; and, if he aim to be a thorough and critical student, he will not be 12 rnnfcntcd with a vlrw, merely, of llie siiperstniclnrc, he will (li,;; (leip to rx:imiiie the foundation. He will wish to he familiar with some of the earliest channel-, in wliieh inlel- liu;ence and tliouL(|it were conveyed. That literary education, then, which is confined to the modern languages, must necessarily be superficial ; to ac- quire these, it is helieved, docs not exact of the mind such a course of discipline ; it docs not ohlige it to compare and discriminate, as in the study of the ancient writers of Greece and Rome. He, who is familiar with the languages of those writers, can easily acquire the modern : and, of the vast literary province, the modern literature of France and Spain is only a small tract. The substitution, then, of the study of the modern, in the place of the ancient languages, promotes neither a course of liberal, nor of practical edu- cation. The advocates of this innovation, seem not to have been aware, that an acquaintance with the French and Spanish, has not such an efl'ect on the mind, as an accurate knowledge of the Latin and Greek. Their new project did not encourage that process of mental culture, at which every student should aim ; it was a labor-saving project ; and one which might be popular with a certain class of young men, who wished for the badges of literary distinc- tion without the merit. Its tendency was, to degrade Col- leges, to depreciate a thorough and systematic course of instruction, and to bring sound learning, and all w ho would promote it, ever}' where, into contempt. The system of lecturing, quite popular in the community, and connected, to some extent, with the innovation to which I have just alluded, seemed to give currency to the senti- ment, that students need only be merely the passive recipients of instruction. With the study of French and Spanish, they had only to devote some attention to the practical part of Mathematics, place themselves in the hearing of some lec- tures on certain subjects, and they would come forth from the Schools and Colleges learned men ; at any rate, with diplo- ma?, purporting that they had received as good an education 13 as those who had been foolish enough to pursue the old col- legiate course. But, it is not the recollection of a mass of facts, which constitutes a good education, though it may constitute a partial one. It is not the memory alone that is to be exercised ; it is the inventive powers which are to be put in requisition ; and that course of education which tasks these the most, other things being equal, is obviously the best calculated to accomplish the great object of a liberal education. The elegant literature of France and Spain, added to that of Greece and Rome, is certainly desirable, and necessary, to complete such education. 'Lectures, too, are seasonable and profitable, by way of illustration, when they are on subjects which the student has already investi- gated and understood. To understand the subjects on which lectures are generally given in our literary institutions, re- quires, not only, before hand, much patient study and intense application, but, also, considerable strength and maturity of intellect. In such circumstances, when the mind is previ- ously prepared, lectures, on various literary and scientific topics, are doubtless beneficial ; but, when they are made to supersede close application — are a substitute for study — they are positively injurious. I allude, now, to a formal course of lectures : familiar remarks at recitation, on many subjects of interest to the student, are often profitable. The greatest favor, however, is conferred on the pupil, when his teacher makes him rely on his own efibrts, still encouraging, urging, and pointing him onward, in that path which all, who have greatly distinguished themselves, have trod before him. Every well educated man must acknowledge, that, for his education, he is indebted, not to lectures, but to his own habit of mental application, and to the reliance which he was taught to place on the efforts of his well dis- ciplined mind, i But, I will not dwell longer on measures and opinions, which, if generally prevalent, would render the ancient classics and study unpopular. The evil has, in a great degree, found its own remedy. Ancient poetry and do- 14 qupnce arc still studied and admired in our literary institu- tions ; and Itlic dream of l)ec()nlin^ learned by beinf^ " a passive recipient of knowledge" from the lecturer, or, which is the same thing, tin? " dream of indolence," influences fewer minds than it did ; and men are begiiniing lo be irn* pressed with lliis ^jreat truth, that our youth must actively co-operate with their teachers, if they would be thoroughly cducatedJ In remarking on the various new systems of education, I will briefly notice the Family High Schools, which have been established in diflerent quarters of our country. Many of these originated in the purest motives. It was hoped they would greatly promote the important interests of education, bv making it both more thorough and extensive. AVith such an object in view, the establishment of them was certainly laudable and worthy of better success. The Gymnasia of Germany and Swit7.erland, were, in some respects, the model schools. The experiments were commenced, and, for a time, continued under very favorable auspices. They seem- ed, truly, in many instances, to be in " the full tide of suc- cessful experiment." The characteristic enterprise of our countrymen hurried many into the lists of competition. The result, unhappily, has been already, in most cases, what some early predicted. Several of those schools, as it is known, are closed, with great pecuniary sacrifices on the part of the undertakers ; and, in others, the number of scholars is greatly reduced. And it is still an experiment, w hether any of them can flourish, or perhaps even exist, in this country, on the original plan. I can only glance at some of the inherent difficulties, which retard, if not prevent, entirely, the prosperity of these schools. The limited pecuniary resources of a large portion of the community, will not allow them to patronize these schools. Most are obliged to avail themselves of a cheaper mode of education, though it may not be all^hey would wish. And, of the wealthier portion, only a few are willing to be at a greater expense for the education of their sons, than their 15 less wealthy neighbors. So that, a small number, compara* lively, pay cheerfully an extra price for education ; and some of these do it, because they are unable, for some one or more reasons, to manage their sons at home. Of course, many, sent to these schools, are not of the most promising charac- ter. They are not such, as will most readily submit to neces- sary restraint and discipline ; nor will they, unrestrained and undisciplined, be of such a character, as to render it safe for youths of purer morals to associate with them, and be inmates of the same family. It will be seen, then, that for- midable obstacles are presented in the way of the successful progress of these schools. These obstacles result from the views and feelings, too generally prevalent in this countr}', on the subject of family and school government. These views and feelings are essentially different from those which prevail in Great Britain and Germany, where these schools have long been conducted with great success. In those countries, public sentiment tolerates, and even demands, a more rigid and severe mode of government in the family, and especially in the public school. The regimen of the celebrated Eton school in England, would not be submitted to, at all, in this republic — a regimen so strict as to inflict a severe punishment for any deficiency in the prescribed task or lesson ; and yet it is a school regimen which produced the Johnsons and the Parrs of Britain, and hundreds more of her distinguished sons. But, neither the indulged and ungovern- able sons of multitudes with us, nor their parents themselves, will consent that such a system of family and school govern- ment should exist here, to produce the like finished scholars. And, in no school, must a more rigid system of government be maintained, than in the modern family school of our country. No family can be well regulated without the observance of certain judicious regulations. Much more, must the observance of such regulations be insisted on, in a family of forty, sixty, or it may be, of one hundred lads from as many different families. And, if these, or only a part of them, be unmanageable at home, or at the schools 16 to \\ liiili tlicy li;n'c hitlicilD Ijcrn scut, uiid ;ire now .sent to the lliL;li Srlmnl to he liiiiiird :iii(l educated, even at a great expense, because it cannot Ijc done any wliere else, it is not strange if they sljall prove, oftentimes, restive and trouble- some spirits, corrupt and corrupting, and, consequently, danL,^erous associates for tlic guileless, unsuspecting, and confiding. And it would not be strange, too, if the very parent who placed a son, of the character described, at the High School to be educated, because he either could not, or had not time to govern him himself, should be ready to listen to his son's statements of imaginary grievances at the school, and make i)is cause and feelings his own, thus, greatly in- creasing the difficulties which before existed in regard to the management of him. It may be remarked, in gener- al, that the parents of sons, unmanageable at home, will be the most disposed to be dissatisfied with a necessary course of discipline at school. And, besides, it will perhaps always be found easier to manage a large number of youth, living in separate fami- lies — a few in each — within a convenient distance of the building for study and recitation, than to manage them in one laniily. It is the clu;tering together of those, already corrupted, of the mischievous and disorderly, or of those w ho are indolent and unwilling to be restrained, which is to be regarded as unfavorable to the existence of a well or- ganized and well regulated literary institution. Such cir- cumstances obviously present great facilities to vicious youth, to exert a pernicious influence over those, who otherwise, would readily comply with the wishes of their teachers. None sympathize so much w ith each other, as members of the same literary institution. \Vhen these are daily asso- ciated together — are members of the same family — and, when out of school hours and beyond the eye of the teacher, they are disposed to cluster together, to devise mischief, the task of management, to say the least, becomes exceedingly laborious and difficult. But, the facilities for doing wrong, are by no means so great, w iicn the students are distributed 17 among some twelve or twenty families. In these circum- stances, they are not so much under each other's influence ; there is not among them such a community of interest and feeling, as when they are in one family ; and this is owing to the fact, that they have less lime to spend in each other's soci- ety, and more, to associate with the families in which they live. The more, then, we reflect on the system of Family High School Education, — on the sentiments, habits, and civil in- stitutions of the American people, and, I may add, on the nature of the human mind, — the deeper will be our con- viction of the difliculties, which attend that system in its operation. After some experience, and much reflection, on this subject, I am inclined to doubt, whether Family High Schools, with a large number of pupils, can be controlled, and well managed, unless by the exercise of dictatorial power — a power, to the exercise of which, neither the parents in general, nor the sons of that class of our popu- lation, able to send to them, will long submit. The genius of our political institutions, and the wants of the people, seem to give a decided preference to the old Academy. That Academy, which is well endowed and conducted — which is located conveniently for public pa- tronage, and regarded, by an intelligent population around it, with deep interest and strong aflection, has many advan- tages over the Family High, or any other Public School. Education at the Academy, is much less expensive ; and, such are the views of most of our population, that they regard with more favor, literary institutions, in which a good education can be obtained with small expense, than expensive schools, though the instruction, at these, may be more thorough. So many of our youth, in the pursuit of a liberal education, are obliged to practice on a system of rigid economy, that those Academies, where the means of education are the cheapest, will receive the most and best patronage It will be the best, for it will be that of youth of enterprise, and, usually, of a good character ; who, though in moderate circumstances, are resolved to obtain 3 18 an eduratioii ; and, wllli llicir object in constant view, to make the very best improvement of their time and privi- leges. While such youth render the task of government less laborious, they give to an institution a very desirable character. [It is to be regretted, that, in very many of our Acade- mies, scanty resources, and the small number of teachers in proportion to tlie number of the scholars, do not allow of that thorough and systematic course of instruction, which is necessary. In many of them, it is not possible for the teachers to do justice to their pupils. In some, the admirable plan of division of labor, cannot be, exten- sively, if at all, introduced ; and in others, in which it does prevail, the number of scholars is too large for that of the teachers. Nothing is wanting, to make our Academies equal, in every respect, to our High Schools, but an additional number of teachers, employed on the plan of the division of laborj In no department of Mechanics, are the advantages of division of labor more apparent, than they are in the business of instruction. For this great improvement, in the science of teaching, we are indebted, in some degree, to modern innovation. It is an improve- ment, which demands the attention of all concerned in the direction of our higher seminaries of learning. And, were it introduced, and the teachers thorough and faithful, the means of instruction, in our Academies, would then be ample — all that could be desired. Expensive philosophical and chemical apparatus, in an Academy, is not needed ; enough to illustrate the more obvious principles of natural science is sufficient. To obtain a very extensive knowl- edge of Natural Philosophy and Chemistry, the student must resort to our Colleges. The great object, which teachers in Academies should keep in view, is, to make their pupils familiar with the first principles — with the rudiments of science and literature. These Academies are to be, in some measure, the preparatory schools, — in which the drilling process is to be considered indispensable. 19 ~-in which the youth are to be taught how io study, and the great object of study. The teacher must be indefati- gable. It is his office, rather to guide his pupils along the path to intellectual excellence, than to convey them. They must be taught to overcome obstacles themselves ; and not to wait till they are removed for them by their teacher. The obstacle is half removed, when the pupil is influenced to resolve to remove it wholly himself. The habit of overcoming difficulties himself, is, to the pupil, one of inestimable importance ; not when' viewed in reference merely to his literary and scientific pursuits, but to all the concerns of future life ; so that the teacher is to regard the formation of this habit in the mind of his pupil, as one of the highest moment. And, that he may form it, he should not only be very caurious, lest he render too much assistance to the inquiring pupil, but, also, lest he place in his hands, for stud}', such text books, as may require very little exertion, on his part, to understand them. In this age of innovation, it is not every book, designed for schools, that is suitable to be introduced into them. So simple, easy, and plain to be understood, are many of these new books, that, it is doubted whether they are, on the whole, the best calculated to promote the great interests of education. With so little discretion, are some of them made, that, when it is his duty to select, the teacher finds it difficult to make a good selec- tion for the use of his pupils. He must examine them himself, so little reliance can be placed upon the recom- mendations, with which these books come from the press. In regard to this subject, he must follow, in a great degree, the decisions of his own judgment. As to school discipline, the judicious teacher will adopt such a system, as to secure the prompt obedience of the pupil, without a resort to bribery. In the science of school government, it is not certain that he will find so great an improvement has been made, as is generally supposed. He knows that experiments have been made, but, with 20 the results, lie may not be altogctlicr satisfied. lie, how- ever, will pursue a safe course, if he follow the dictates of pood sense, and profit by the experience of the wise, who have lived before him, and, especially, by the instructions and wisdom of him, who for thousands of years, has been esteemed as " the wisest of the wise." The teacher must be prepared to meet the trials and perplexities, peculiar to his profession ; still, however, he may feel that it is a noble, and, in some important respects, at» enviable one. He has, around him, young minds, to be trained for the highest and sublimest purposes. As he trains them, he may exert over them a hallowing influence. He may be able to counteract, to a great extent, the un- favorable influences, operating against him beyond his little domain, and, after all, give to the youthful mind his own impression. The classical teacher conducts his pupils to the fountains of ancient eloquence and wisdom. He goes with them, back to the remote ages of antiquity, and holds converse with the choicest spirits of those times. Whatever, in their lives, is worthy of regard or imitation — whatever is attractive in their philosophy and eloquence, the teacher points out, and unfolds to the youthful aspirant after intellectual and moral excellence. He communes, daily, with the great of past ages, and with those around him, who arc, likewise, to exert a controlling influence in years to come. He thus forms the connecting link, be- tween the past and future : and, while he transmits all that is worthy of being transmitted, from the poetry, elo- quence, philosophy, and patriotism of ancient times, to the youth, who, it may be, are to control the destinies of his country in the coming generation, he can blend with it, his own influences — he can give it, almost the tone and complexion that he chooses, l^ut, the teacher can range in a wider field than that of ancient literature. He is not only to instruct his pupils in the rainutia; of ancient lan- guage — to show them how to apply the rules of syntax to the construction of sentences, and, also, the connec- 21 tion between the ancient languages and liis own — not only to interest them in the subject of philosophical criticism — not only to make them acquainted with whatever is elegant in ancient literature and sentiment — not only to make them thorough scholars in Arithmetic and Mathematics, English Grammar and Geography, — he should have a higher and nobler aim in view — he should aim to form, in his pupils, such habits of thought and action, and to cultivate in them, such a spirit, as will promote their own future happiness, and that of those, who may be associated with them in future lifeTj Much, that they may have committed to memory at school — the particular rules of syntax and Arithmetic — very many of the facts of History and Ge- ography, will, in a few years, have gone beyond the power of recollection. But, in the words of another, " that blossoms may not be untimely, that they may pro- duce fruit, there must be formed, within them, a germ, ffhat germ in the human mind, is the love of knowledge, is the intellectual habit that will lead to further acquisi- tions. Without this, education, and that which is often called the most finished education, is to little purpose. Habits of thought, comparison, discrimination, and re- search, must be formed, or the tim£ and expense of edu- cation are literally thrown away." ' If, by particularity at recitation, and a spirited mode of conducting it, — if by familiar remarks, frequently accompanying an appli- cation of what his pupils are learning to the common concerns of life, the teacher can awaken their slumbering energies, and induce the habit of attention to what is instructive ; — if he can do this, he accomplishes, in an important sense, the great object of education. In doing this, he may touch a spring, that shall give motion to machinery, producing mighty and prodigious results, long after the agent that gave the first impulse, has gone from the scene of human life. No one — not even the nearest friend, may be able to do, in this respect, so much for 22 tl»c particular iudividuiil, and for society, as the skilful traclicr. lit may l)0, that lie alone can breathe into his pupil an intelligent, social, patriotic, noble spirit ; — that he alono can lead him, to feel the claims which society, his country, and the world, have upon him. No where, has the teacher of youth opportunities to exert a greater amount of influence — no where, are his responsibilities greater, than, in this land of civil and re- ligious freedom. The free institutions, which we received from our fathers, are based on the only firm ground, that of Christian principle. When this principle shall cease to be predominant in our land, these free institutions — the sources of all our present national glory and happiness — will be no more. 1 repeat it, it was the influences of pure Christianity, which gave birth to these institutions, and which, alone, can sustain them. It is on the moral and religious power of the republic, that we are to rely, in those times, " which try men's souls." lit is the peculiar genius of the Gospel, that imbues the soul with the true patriotism — with the genuine love of country. This great and important truth ought to be deeply impressed on the mind of every freeman, whether the tenant of the humblest cottage, or, clothed with legislative or executive power. As we desire then to transmit to posterity our glorious inheritance — as we love our country — love to anticipate its prosperity and greatness in coming ages, and delight to cherish the thrilling idea, that this land will prove, yet, to be the cradle of free institutions for the world, we, who educate our youth, should pant to instil into their minds, the true spirit of Christianity — the only genuine patriotisniH ilntelligence, alone, cannot save the republic. In mod- ern France, there were men of science, and letters, and philosophy, but, notwithstanding their science, literature, and philosophy, their oflbrts to establish free institutions, on the ruins of monarchy, ended in a military despotism. And, so it must be, every where ; and so it will be here, 23 unless the peculiar views, sentiments, and reeling<5, which the Gospel inspires, entensively prevail, controlling the mass of our population. It is not enough, then, that the teacher, rightly appreciating the excellence of our free institutions, cultivate the intellect — cultivate those noble intellectual faculties, which God has bestowed on us for the highest purposes ; — he should aim to improve the heart — aim to imbue it with the love of those great and precious relig- ious truths, which our fathers prized above all price, and which have made this land, the glory of all lands.' On the prevalence of which truths, it is now depending, whether our free institutions can be transplanted to the old world or, whether the oppressors of their subjects, there, shall form still stronger alliances, to hold Europe, for a century more, in heavier chains and deeper wretchedness. The teacher has, under his influence, those who are soon to occupy the places of our fathers ; — who are soon, it may be, to control public opinion, and be engaged in the man- agement of the important interests and afl'airs of the republic ; and who, before they enter upon scenes of active life, ought to be thoroughly instructed in those religious principles, which constitute the only true and solid basis of all rational liberty. In these, they ought to be in- structed, that they may know, in what way, our own liberties may be preserved, and on what ground they have a right to expect the future progress of our free institu- tions, through the world. With strong aspirations, then, himself, after higher and higher attainments in moral and religious excellence, the teacher should allure his pupils to cultivate their moral powers, that they may be fitted to discharge, conscientiously, those responsible duties, which are soon to devolve on them, as citizens of this republic, and those higher and holier duties, too, which they, with himself, owe to God. He ought to exert a decidedly religious influence in the sphere in which he acts. He cannot occupy neutral ground. His example and in- structions should evince to his pupils, that he places the 24 lii!;lic>l value iipnii tlio institutions of religion, and npon llur spirit of tin- trlorious (jospc.-l. He ought to remember, habitually, that the undying minds around him, are capable of making constant progress in the acquisition of knowl- edge, for ever ; — that they may, if they choose, rise to eternal communion with pure and holy spirits, in the blissful presence of (iod. If, then, he does his duty, he will not act merely for his country, or for this world; he will strive to induce his pupils to prepare for entrance on a nobler state of existence — a world of unchanging reali- ties, after this shall have passed away. " Lei a man enter this field, therefore," says a writer, in one of our most popular Reviews, on the subject of teaching youth, " not to go through the dull round of prescribed duty ; let him throw himself into this sphere of action, with his whole mind and heart, with every wakeful energy of thought, and kindling fervor of feeling; to think and to act, to devise and to do, all that his powers per- mit, for the minds that are committed to him, to develop and exhaust his whole soul in this work, to labor for and with his pupils, to win their affection, to quicken, in them, the love of knowledge, to inspire with every noble im- pulse, the breast of ingenuous youth ; to raise up sound scholars for literature, and devoted pastors for the church, and patriotic citizens for the country, and glorious men for the world." BRIEF SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF LEICESTER ACADEMY. |This Academy was incorporated by an Act of the General Court of Massachusetts, March 23d, 1784, for the purpose, as expressed in the Act, "of promoting true piety and virtue, and for the education of youth in the English, Latin, Greek, and French languages, together with writing, arithmetic, and the art of speaking ; also, practical geometry, logic, philos- ophy, and geography ; and such other of the liberal arts and sciences as opportunity may hereafter permit, and the Trus- tees hereinafter provided shall direct.^ The Trustees appointed by the Act, were, "Ebenezer Crafts of Sturbridge, and Jacob Davis of Charlton, Esquires, the Hon. Moses Gill of Princeton, Samuel Baker of Bolton, and Levi Lincoln of Worcester, Seth Washburn of Leicester, and Rufus Putnam of Rutland, Esquires, Joseph Allen, Esq., and the Reverend Thaddeus Maccarty of Worcester, the Rev- erends Joseph Sumner of Shrewsbury, Joshua Paine of Stur- bridge, Benjamin Conklin of Leicester, Archibald Camp- bell of Charlton, Joseph Pope of Spencer, all in the County of Worcester, and the Honorable Timothy Danielson, Esq., of Brimfield, in the County of Hampshire." [The reasons which induced the General Court to grant the Act of incorporation are well expressed in the Preamble : " Whereas, the encouragement of literature in the rising generation, has ever been considered by the wise and good, as an object worthy of the most serious attention, as the safe- ty and happiness of a free people, ultimately depend upon the advantages arising from a pious, virtuous, and liberal ed- ucation : 4 26 " Wlicrcas, it appears that Ebcnezcr Crafts of Slurhridgc, in till,' f'ounty of Worcester, and Jacob Davis of Cliarllon, in the said (.'ouiity, Es(|uires, for the purpose of promoting piety and learning, liave generously given the large and commo- dious mansion house, lands, and appurtenances, in Leicester, lately occupied by Aaron fjopez, deceased, for the use of an Academy : And it further ajijicars, that the sum of one thou- sand pounds is generously subscribed for the support of the said Academy ; the interest thereof, together with what may hereafter be raised by donations, with the income or rent of all real estate, to be appropriated for the use and benefit of the said Academy forever; as Trustees to be appointed shall think most expedient.'^ Such was the origin of the foundation of this Institution, which for nearly half a century has deservedly ranked with the first Academies in the State, for the respectability of its Trustees, and the high character, for learning, fidelity, and aptness to teach, of its Instructors. (When it is recollected, that this country was then suffering from the unparalleled sacrifices she had made to support her Independence, that her affairs were in an unsettled state, and the taxes and burdens of the people, occasioned by the war of the Revolution, were very great, too much praise cannot be bestowed on the worthy and patriotic citizens who thus gen- erously laid the foundation of this Institution All the Trustees named in the Act are now numbered with the dead. But while the Institution endures, while learning and virtue are duly esteemed, their names will be held in grateful remembrance. ('[The large and commodious mansion house," given by Messrs. Crafts and Davis, was used for the purposes of an Academy until the year 1806.* " On the morning of the 4th July, 1806, the Corporation of Leicester Academy met to open a New Building for the use of that Institution." * See Note 1 . 27 An Address was delivered on the occasion, by the Rev. Mr. Sumner, President of the Academy, and an Oration, on the importance of Education, by the Rev. Aaron Bancroft, one of the Trustees. The Address and Oration were pub- lished by request of the Corporation. A short extract from the former, will give a general view of the state of the Acad- emy up to that time : " Soon after the Charter was granted, the Seminary was opened and was in a flourishing condition until the want of energy in the confederation of the United States, and the tumidts that existed in this State, so far destroyed public credit, as to render the resources of this Institution unpro- ductive, and, for a time, it was shut up ; and so it must have remained, had it not been for the exertions of individuals, and particularly of the inhabitants of Leicester.* By means of which, it was kept open, until the Federal Constitution was framed, and the Federal Government established, which re- stored public credit, and, of course, revived this Institution ; since which time, it has prospered, and many have here been trained up to take active, and useful parts upon the stage of life ; many have been furnished to become instructors of private schools, others have been prepared to enter upon pro- fessional studies, and not a few have been fitted to become members of Colleges and Universities. On the 14th of May, 1805, the Corner Stone of this edifice was laid, since which time, this superstructure has been erected thereon — conven- ient and sufficiently elegant ; of which we this day take pos- session for the use of this Academy, agreeably to the Charter." In a history of Leicester, by Emory Washburn, Esq., this Building is thus described : " The situation of the Academy Building is high, and com- mands a fine prospect. The exterior of the building is neat and well proportioned, its interior commodious and well de- signed. It is three stories high, with sixteen lodging rooms or parlors, besides a dining hall, library, school room, and chapel, and cost between eight and nine thousand dollars." * Ncc Note 2. 2B Unfortunately for tlit- intcn'sts of the Institution, this build' inff was inulcrtakon, hiiilt, mid fmi^licd Ity the job, and not- uillistandinfj; the fxterior was well prnporlioned and impos- \u tliey are under to llie ijuljliir, for llic (Micouragenienl it lias all'orded llie Institution, by sending to it so many youllis to be instructed, and particularly to the liberal individuals, whose donations liave enabled them liith- crto to sustain the interests and reputation of the Institution, and to erect the present commodious edifice, without causing such a reduction of the funds as to produce immediate em- barrassment. l?ut to render tiic Institution what it ought to be, what they tiiink it may, and intend it shall be, a Literary Institu- tion, of the first order, it must continue to receive from the public, a generous and liberal encouragement. This, they cannot doubt, the public, and particularly the citizens of the County of Worcester, will cjieerfully afford to an Institution, which has already imparted to thousands the first rudiments of the arts and sciences, prepared many to be instructors of others, and fitted numbers, from year to year, to enter our Colleges and Universities, many of whom now fill important stations in Church and State. This brief sketch will be closed with a list of the names of tlie Trustees, including those appointed by the Act of Incor- poration, and all who have been elected since, the names of the Principal Preceptors, and of the Assistants and Associ- ates, so far as they could be obtained, w ith an account of the Donations to the Academy, and of the names of the Donors. 31 NAMES OF TRUSTEES OF LEICESTER ACADEMY, FROM ITS CHARTER, IN 1784. FROM TO 1784. March 23. Ebenezer Crafts, Esq., Sturbridge, resigned, 1792 Jacob Davis, Esq., Charlton, 1786 Hon. IMoses Gill, Princeton, died, 1800 Samuel Baker, Esq., Bolton, died, 1797 Levi Lincoln, Esq., Worcester, resigned, 1802 Seth Washburn, Esq., Leicester, died, 1791 Rufus Putnam, Esq.. Rutland, resigned, 1790 Joseph Allen, Esq., Worcester, resigned, 1819 Rev. Thaddeus Maccarty, Worcester, died, 1785 Rev. Joseph Sumner, Shrewsbury, resigned, 1818 Rt3V. Joshua Paine, Sturbridge, died, 1800 Rev. Benjamin Conklin, Leicester, died, 1798 Rev. Archibald Campbell, Charlton, resigned, 1795 Rev. Joseph Pope, Spencer, resigned, 1816 Hon. Timothy Danielson, Brimfield, 1786 The above were appointed Trustees by the Charter ; since then, the follow- ing; have been elected by the Board, to IJll vacancies : 1785. July 4. Rev. Daniel Grosvenor, Grafton, resigned, 1815 1786. Nov. 29. Capt. Thomas Newhall, Leicester, died, 1814 '• '•■ " Deacon Jonas Howe, Rutland, died, 1813 1790. Oct. 5. Dwight Foster, Esq., Brookfield, resigned. 1818 1792. Oct. 2. Hon. Timothy Newell, Sturbridge, resigned, 1797 1794. July 7. Col. Thomas Dennv, Leicester, died, 1815 1795. July 9. Rev. Nathan Fiske,' D. D., Brookfield, died, ISOO 1797. July 6. Eleazer James, Esq., Barre. resigned. 1814 '•' " " Hon. Elijah Brigham, Westborough, died, 1816 1798. July 5. Rev. Zephaniah Swift Moore, Leicester, resigned, 1812 1800. Julys. Rev. Ephraim Ward, Brookfield, resigned, 1815 " " " Rev. Aaron Bancroft, Worcester, resigned, 1831 " " " William Stedman, Esq., Lancaster, resigned, 1817 1802. July. . Hon. Nathaniel Paine, Worcester, resigned, 1812 1812. Aug. 21. Rev. John Nelson, Leicester, *1. 1812. Nov. Hon. Benjamin Heywood. Worcester, died, 1817 1813. Aug. 19. Aaron Tufts. Esq., Dudley, resigned, 1833 1814. Aug.25. Samuel M. Burnside, Esq., Worcester, 2. 1815. Aug. 24. Rev. Nathaniel Thayer, Lancaster, resigned, 1826 " " " Rev. Micah Stone, Brookfield, 3. " " " Dr. Austin Flint, Leicester, resigned, 1831 " " " Nathaniel P. Denny, Esq., Leicester, 4. 1816. Aug. 22. Hon. Levi Lincoln, Jr., Worcester, 6. •' " " Rev. Edward Whipple, Charlton, died, 1823 1817. Aug. 21. Hon. Daniel Waldo, Worcester, 6. 1817. Nov. 13. Hon. Benj. Adams, U.xbridge,-declined accepting the trust. 1818. Nov. 12. Hon. Bezaleel Taft, Jr., Uxbridge, resigned, 1829 " " " Gen. .Salem Towne, Jr., Charlton, resigned, 1826 1819. Aug. 18. Rev. Josiah Clark, Rutland, 7. 1819. Nov. 11. Hon. Abijah Bigelow, Worcester, 8. 1823. Aug. 20. Rev. Samuel Clark, Princeton, 9- 1826. May 24. Col. Samuel Mixter, New Braintree, 10. 1827. May 23. Rev. Horatio Bardwell, Holden, 11. 1830. May 19. George Davis, Esq., Sturbridge, 12. 1831. Aug. 24. Rev. George Allen, Shrewsbury, 13. 1831. Nov. 10. Hon. William B. Banister, Bro'okfield, resigned, 1833 1833. Aug. 21. Alfred D. Foster, Esq., Worcester, 14. 1833. Dec. 25. Mr. James Smith, Leicester, 15. • The numbers designate the present Members of the Board of Trustees. 32 rxoM 17RI, Apiil7. IWH). OiTt. 18()'2. July. IHU), l)pr. la. laJl. May 1«. l»Ki:SIDKNTS. IIim.Moacs Gill, Princeton, Hon. Lovi Lincoln, Worcester, U«v. JoNRpli "Hijinner, I). D., .Shrewsbury, Hov. Aaron FJancroft, F). D., Worcester, ilis Excellency, Lc»i Lincoln, Worcetler. TO diec], liSUO rc-Higned, 1802 resigned, 18IB resigned, 1831 VICE PRESIDENTS. 178^t. April 7. Rev. Benj.imin Conklin, Leicester, died, 1798 n'J8.July6. Rev. Naihan Fiske, I). D., Brookfield, died, 1800 IfiiK). Oct. Rev. Jos. Sumner, Slirewsbnry, elected Prcs't., 1802 lfj'02. July. Hon. Dwight Foster. Brookfield, resigned, 1818 181If. Dec. 18. Hon. Levi Lincoln, Jr., Worcester, elected President, 1831 1831. May 18. Rev. Micah Stone, Brookfield, SECRETARIES. 1784. April 7. Rev. Joseph Pope, Spencer, 1800. July 3. Rev. Zophaniah S. Moore, Leicester, 1812. JNov. Uev. John Nelson, Leicester. resigned, 1800 resigned, 1812 TREASURERS. 178|.. April 7. Joseph Allen, Esq., Worcester, 1819. Nov. 11. Hon. Levi Lincoln, Worcester, 1820. Aug. 23. Hon. Abijah Bigelow, Worcester. resigned, 1819 resigned, 18i0 PRINCIPAL PRECEPTORS. 1784. Mr. Benjamin Stone* 1788. Mr. Amos Crosby, )788. Mr. Samuel Suiiiner, 1790. Mr. David Smith. 1792. Mr. Ebenezer Adams, 1806. Rev. Zeph. S. Moore, TO. 1788 I 1788 1790 1702 1806 1807 1807. Mr Simeon Colton, 1809. Mr. Luther Wilson, 181-2. Mr. Josiah Clark, 1819. Mr. Bradford Sumner, 1819. Mr. John Richardson, 1833. Mr. Luther Wright. TO . 1809 1812 1819 1819 1833 ASSISTANT PRECEPTORS. 1784. Mr. Thomas Payson. 1786. Mr. Amos Crosby- 1791. Mr. Ebenezer Adams. 1792. Mr. Thomas S. Spirhawk. 1794. Mr. John Pierce. 1795. Mr. Samuel Crossett. 1796. Mr. Theodore Debon. 1799. Mr. Alpheus Stone. 1810. Mr. Josiah Clarke.f 1816. Mr. Ezra Hunt. 1817. Mr. John Adams. 1818. Mr. Emorv Washburn. 1819. Mr. Increase S. Smith. " Mr. Thomas Fiske. 1821. Mr. Increase S. Smith. 1823. Mr. Alonzo Hill. 1824. Mr. Phinehas S. Denny. 1825. Mr. Increase S. Smith' 1826. Mr. Henry Dana Ward. 1828. Mr. Charles Sprague Henry. 1829. Mr. Albert Spooner. 1833. Mr. Joseph L. Partridge. " As matter of curiosity, the following votes, relative to the appointment of Mr. Stone, are copied from the Records : " That Mr. Benjamin Stone be considered as the principal Instructor, and vested with the privileges and authority of that office, and That he be allowed £60 per annum as a Salary, and in the same proportion for a shorter term, he being at the expence of his own support." t From 1799. to 1810, the names of the .\ssist3nt Preceptors have not been as- certained. Among the number were, it is believed. Hon. Timothy Boutelle. of Maine. Hon. Timothy Fuller of Groion. Dr's. Jarkson and t^hattuck of Boston, and Chief Justice Richardson of r\ew Hampshire. 33 €RANTS AND DONATIONS TO TRK ACADEMY. 1784. May 18, Jacob Davis and Ebenezer Crafts, conveyed to the Trusteea •of Leicester Academy, " about one acre of Land, with a large Mansion House, Stables, and Out Buildings, in consideration of the regard they bear to virtue and learning, which they consider greatly conducive to the welfare of the community, and in further consideration of five shillings," which estate they " convey and confirm to the said Trustees and their successors in that trust for ever, for the Bole use and purpose of an Academy, known and incorporated by an Act of the Great and General Court, by the name of Leicester Academy." This estate was valued at '$1116 67 1784. Nov. 20. Dr. Austin Flint of Leicester, conveyed 124 square rods of Land for " one dollar," and the further " consideration of a desire to encourage the Academy." The value of this land was probably not less than 160 00 1785. June 4. An Act was passed by the General Court, " granting a Lottery for the repairing of Leicester Academy, and making addi- tional buildings thereto." This Act authorized the raising '• a sum not exceeding six hundred pounds." 1786. Jan. 2. Donations, by subscription, which were paid in to the Treasurer, principally in public securities, viz : Town of Leicester, £500 Thos. Newhall,i:iOO equal to ^2000 00 Capt.Thos. Denny, 100 Mr. Reuben Swan, 50, " 500 00 Capt.Jno. Southgate, 30 Col. Samuel Denny, 39, " 200 00 Capt. Saml. Green, 15 Capt. Wm. Watson, 12, " 90 00 Mr. Sam). Green, 10 Mr. Saml. Watson, 10, " 6G 67 Mr. Peter Taft, 10 " 33 33 The above persons were all of Leicester. " " " Hon. Moses Gill, 150 Jed'n. Baldwin, 100, " 833 33 Gen. Rufus Putnam, 100 Caleb Ammidown.Esq. 18" 393.33 Jos. Allen, Esq., 30 Isaiah Thomas, Esq., 20, " 166 67 John Pierce, 10 Hon. Timo. Bigelow,30, " 133 33 1786. Nov. 9. Hon. Moses Gill gave '• a large number of judiciously selected Books, of the value of two hundred and sixty dollars," for which he was requested to accept the sincere thanks of the Trustees. 260 00 1793. The Legislature granted a Township of land, in Maine, to the Academy. 1794. Oct. 6. Received on account of the Lottery, 1419 22 1795. July 15. Received for one-fourth of the Township of land, granted by the General Court, 2300 00 1796. Feb. 15. Received for the other three-fourths of said Town- ship, 6900 00 1814. Capt. Thomas Newhall gave a legacy of 1000 00 1819. Jan. 1. Stephen Salisbury, Esq., S50—Alpheu3 Smith, ^150, 200 00 " " Dwight Foster, Esq., gSO, 50 00 1822. Nath'l.P. Denny,Esq.,^l00-HenrySargeant,gl78 65, 278 65 " James Smith, ;g55— Dr. Austin Flint, ^100, 155 00 1823. Land given by Commonwealth in Paxton, formerly the property of Archibald McDonald, an alien, and which had escheated to the Commonwealth, 400 00 34 182.1, Mimliy ifKJivniii.-ilH in tho town of I.ciccHtcr, procured, hy Ndliscriptidii, a I'lilloHOphical Apparatufi, acd pic- m-ntf'd ii lo tlif! A<:.i(l