Soon after he left college, I was sent to offer him the place of tutor. I had not previously known him, and my first impressions were not agreeable. I hesitated to do my errand. After all it was rather performed than done, more after a Roman than a Saxon fashion. But it turned out better for his character and the public good, than for my own discernment. So of another commission not only from the Trustees, but the venerable Professor Adams, to a.s.sure him that he would, after a while, be wanted to take the chair of that n.o.ble old man, one of the princes of the earth. They who knew him best had marked him, even when he took his parchment, for that high position. How well he filled it, and every other office he sustained, everybody who knows the college knows.

"Professor Young was a consummate teacher. During his college course he taught school every successive winter, as he had done for years preceding, and earned nearly enough to pay the expenses of his course, for he had high wages, and never wasted them on his clothes or pleasures. That discipline settled in his mind the elements of knowledge. The principles of all true knowledge were already laid; first, when he was born; and, secondly, when he was born again. He had, of course, tools to work with, and facility to use them for the good of others, enlarging all the while his own fabric till he became the man of science that he was for his successive trusts. He loved, as few men ever love, to teach, and as no man can love who begins not early and makes not teaching his profession. He went to his last recitation when he should have been upon his bed, to find relief from the agonies he suffered, and take off his mind from the greater that he feared. He was never more at home, or more at ease, than with his cla.s.s. He loved to enrich them out of his own stores, and thereby draw out and sharpen their independent faculties. He was not disconcerted when he sometimes drew to little purpose; though sure, by set remonstrance, or by his peculiar, quaint, dry and caustic humor, to rebuke indifference and neglect, or expose the artifice of a bold, shrewd, or sly pretender. He was sure of what he knew, and never gave way without a reason. I have sometimes thought him too sure before he scanned a question. Yet he would never persist when he saw no foothold. He was set but not dogmatic, or no more so than a sincere man must be when he believes what he teaches and is in earnest. He would never defend before his cla.s.s a theory because it was new, or because it was learned, or because it was his own, or because it was popular, or because he would otherwise be ruled out of the synagogue, till he had made it sure by calculus, or probable by a.n.a.logy. When convinced that an hypothesis could not be verified in the present state of knowledge, or never in logical consistency with established facts, or moral certainties, he abandoned it like an honest man. But where he had his ground he stood, and would have it understood. Of course his teaching was effectual. Those who would be made scholars he made sound and good ones. He gave a strong character to his departments, and his departments were an honor to the college.

"Professor Young was a ripe scholar in general. He was conversant with the accredited branches of knowledge, and held an honorable place among learned men. He was modest and retiring, content to know, and unconcerned about the appearance of it. He liked not to open his mouth in the gate, but he had wisdom to deliver the city. Nothing crude, partial, superficial, or one-sided, ever came from him. His judgments were clear, comprehensive, and decisive. He was slow, critical, and cautious in forming his opinions, and where he settled there he stayed. No man could cajole or browbeat him out of his convictions.

"When our professor lay dead before us, the thought arose that, now, no longer plodding his way to yonder dome, with steps restrained and painful from an unknown disease, no longer weary with watching, through his telescope, the distant orbs, nor with numbers and diagrams to find their measure, he could survey, without a gla.s.s, infinitely greater wonders from a higher sphere; for he had profited by his earthly discipline: the heavens had declared to him the glory of G.o.d, and the firmament had showed his handiwork. The day had uttered to him speech, and the night had showed to him knowledge. Next it occurred how natural religion had been thus reproduced in his mind and ill.u.s.trated by a higher Revelation: 'The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul; the testimonies of the Lord are sure, making wise the simple; the statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart; the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes.'"

CHAPTER XXV.

PROFESSOR STEPHEN CHASE.--PROFESSOR DAVID PEABODY.--PROFESSOR WILLIAM COGSWELL.

Professor Stephen Chase, who succeeded Professor Young in the chair of Mathematics, the latter retaining the department of Natural Philosophy and Astronomy, was the son of Benjamin Pike and Mary (Chase) Chase, and was born at Chester, N. H., August 30, 1813.

The following notice of this distinguished mathematician is from a commemorative "Discourse" by President Lord:--

"In the first cla.s.s that entered the college, after my connection with it, nearly twenty-three years ago, a young man, spare, tall, as yet unformed in manner, soon engaged the attention of his teachers. We marked his mild, serene, yet quick and penetrating eye, his independent, unaffected, yet modest and regulated movement, his lively, versatile, earnest, and comprehensive mind, his cheerful and honest diligence, his punctual attendance upon the exercises of the college, his respectful, but unstudied and confiding deportment towards his superiors, his frank and generous, but reserved intercourse with his fellow students, his care in selecting his most intimate a.s.sociates, and his quiet, unpretending, yet exact and intelligent performance of all the studies of the course. An indifferent stranger would not have noticed him, except, perhaps, to criticize his unique exterior; and his fellow students, as is natural to young persons who are most impressed by aesthetical manner and accomplishment, did not dignify him as a leader or an oracle. But a deeper insight convinced his teachers that, whatever partial observers might think wanting in respect to artistic excellence, was well supplied by more substantial and enduring qualities. Their eye followed him, while here, as a sound-minded, true-hearted young man, and a thorough scholar; and, after he had graduated, as a teacher at the South, and in two of the oldest academies of New England. In these different relations he fully justified the good name which he had left behind him at the college, till, the proper occasions serving, he was called back to be first a tutor, and then professor of the Mathematics. The subsequent course of Mr. Chase proved that his instructors had not miscalculated his powers, nor over-estimated his qualifications for one of the most difficult and trying positions in a learned inst.i.tution.

"Professor Chase performed the duties of his office without interruption till the close of the last term, during a period of about thirteen years; and died, after a short illness, in vacation, while yet a young man. He was scarcely thirty-eight years of age. Yet he was old, if we measure time, as scholars should, not by the motion of the heavenly bodies, but the succession of ideas. He had made great proficiency in knowledge. Well he might; for he had great susceptibilities. His temperament was ardent, his instincts were lively, his perceptions keen, his thoughts rapid, his reasoning faculties sharp, his imagination fiery, and his will determined. No man has all his active powers proportioned; for that would const.i.tute perfection, which exists not in this world any more in physical than in moral natures. But his balance was less disturbed than most, and, consequently, he was capable of various and large attainments. What he could he did, for his spirit was earnest, and his industry untiring.

He had become well founded and extensively versed in most departments of liberal study, and it would be difficult to say in what branch of knowledge he would have been most competent to excel. He was not a genius; that is, no one power of the mind absorbed the others, and his culture was not unequal. Therefore he would not have glared for a while, like a meteor, and then exploded, but he would have stood one of the pillars of learning, and a true conservator of society.

"A man of excellent const.i.tutional faculties, like Mr. Chase, must use them, if Providence gives him opportunity. He has a self-moving power.

He cannot be still. Use of the faculties increases their facility and productiveness; and the increase of products increases the love of acquisition. His gains, and his consequent love of gain, will be according to the Providential direction which he takes, whether to a trade, an art, a profession, to the pursuit of wealth, or power, or general knowledge. Mr. Chase's direction was to knowledge. He acquired it easily, his stores rapidly increased, and the love of it became a pa.s.sion. He loved knowledge as some men love pleasure, and others gold, for its own sake. Yet not exclusively, for he was genial, warm-hearted, and humane. He appreciated the enjoyments of personal, domestic, and social life. No man could be more affectionate, kind, generous, or public-spirited. He was never a recluse or an ascetic. He was ready to take anything in hand, and liked to have his hands full.

He desired an estate, he studied a profession, he amused himself with useful arts, he loved a farm, a garden, an orchard, a fruitery, an apiary; and occasionally, to do the work proper to them all himself; and he did it well. But knowledge, science, in the largest sense, was his _beau ideal_.

"Professor Chase, as might be expected, had great excellence as a teacher and governor of college. His ideal of education may be inferred from his personal culture. This had always been general and liberal. He omitted no branch of important knowledge. He accepted nothing partial. He believed in none of the romantic expedients which are often hastily adopted, and successively abandoned, for making scholars without materials, and forcing public inst.i.tutions of learning, for a present popular effect, off from the methods which nature has prescribed, and experience has sanctioned. He regarded a college as a place not so much of learning, as of preparation for learning,--a school of discipline, to bring the student up to manhood with ability to perform thenceforth the hard work of a man in his particular profession. To that end no part of fundamental study could be spared. He would as soon have judged that young men could be trained to excellence in the mechanic arts, while they disused any important organ of the body; or a sculptor elaborate a perfect model by chiseling only the limbs. He would not expect such a mechanic, or artist, or educators of the same school, to find either honorable or lucrative employment, when society, though temporarily blinded by ingenious but visionary projects of improvement, should learn the practical difference between the whole of anything and its parts. He would not have consented that any other department of college study should be sacrificed even to the Mathematics.

"But he would have the Mathematics lie, physically, where G.o.d has placed it, at the foundation. He would have the student early settled and accustomed to the most approved methods and varieties of demonstrative science. He would discipline the mind among the certainties of numbers, that it might better search for truth among the probabilities of things; just as we learn to swim where we can touch bottom before it is safe to plunge into the deep. He judged soundly that one must learn to use his reason before he can wisely apply it to the purposes of life; and that without this preliminary training nothing else can be learned well; and that whatever otherwise seem to be accomplishments, turn out, at length, to be fantasies that vanish in the turmoil and struggle of life, or mislead men into a false and fickle management of affairs. Wherefore he felt the peculiar responsibility of his position with all the intenseness of his earnest and far-reaching mind. He knew that his department, though most difficult to be commended to young men in general, was most indispensable to their success, and he sought accordingly to magnify his office. That he was a complete master of it is out of question. Of this he has left enduring monuments; and not the least, I am happy to say, in minds which he had trained.

"His own perception of relations was like intuition, and hence he was sometimes uneasy at the embarra.s.sments of students, even when involuntary, and much more, when the result of indifference or neglect, even though they might at times be increased by the rapidity of his own ill.u.s.trations. I should have dreaded to be taken by Professor Chase to the blackboard, unless I had a good lesson, or a good conscience; and I could not have been sure that the latter would avail me without the former. But though I should have shrunk from the criticism, I should have respected the man. If I feared him in the lecture-room, I should honor him in his study; for there his warm heart would open to the story of my mental trials, and he would lead me, and help me to bear my burdens, with the kindness of an elder brother. He was exacting, but he was humane; he was impatient, but full of generous sympathies. These qualities might not always be tempered in the hurry of an occasion, but found their balance in the leisure and quiet intercourse of retirement. He was just and faithful.

He had strong likes, but he would yield a favorite when he must; and strong dislikes, but he was incapable of hate. He stopped short of all extremes. You could move him easily either way on the current of the sympathies; but you could not tempt him to do wrong. As with the judgment, so with the sensibilities; they were led by conscience. As with the love of knowledge, so with the pa.s.sions; they were subject to the love of truth. Whatever the occasional excitement of the intellect or the feelings, there was that in his mind which made it impossible for him to be an enemy of G.o.d or man. The soul had been harmonized by grace.

"Mr. Chase had a pious ancestry, and was brought up by Christian parents in the fear of G.o.d. An excellent mother, an invalid in his childhood, sat much in her arm-chair with the Bible on her knee. She used it with her little boy as she would a primer. Before he was four years old he had learned to read it, and read through the New Testament; and that particular volume now remains the best part of his estate. He was ever afterwards a diligent student of the Bible, and never ceased to honor the father and mother who had led him in this way of life. Filial reverence was one of his most beautiful and characteristic traits. It was a natural step to the fear of G.o.d; and the early fear of G.o.d is likely to be succeeded, according to the covenant, by that love of G.o.d which, when perfected, casteth out fear.

During his third year at college he became, as he hoped, regenerate, and professed his faith in Christ. It is said that his religious awakening at that time was unusually deep; his awe of the Divine government and his sense of sin profound; his acknowledgment of G.o.d's justice and general sovereignty unreserved; and his trust in Christ for justification free and unqualified. That sheet-anchor saved him.

It brought him up, subsequently, in the hour of danger. When the fitful and rough winds of the spirit of the power of the air beat upon him, and the swelling waters went over his soul, it dragged, but it held. It was cast within the veil. That New Testament in his childhood, that subjection to his parents, that conversion at college,--they were blessings to him and to us that can be measured only by eternity.

"It was a sorrowful day when, in the solitude and stillness of the winter vacation, we laid him in the tomb. It was sorrowful in that house where he had been the joy and hope of loving and trusting hearts, and had found rest from the cares and vexations of official life; where a sincere, unworldly, unartificial hospitality always reigned; whence tokens of kindness went freely round to friends, and compa.s.sionate charity to the poor. It was sorrowful to his colleagues, for we trusted him, his knowledge and judgment, his integrity and zeal, his faithfulness and efficiency, his independence and courage.

We knew that he was above pretense, artifice, and duplicity; that in his keeping, righteous principle was safe, and over his application of it wisdom, benevolence, and firmness would preside. It was sorrowful to the village, for he was known to be a just man, a kind neighbor, and a good citizen. He was always ready to do what he could for the common welfare, and to bear his proportion of the common burdens.

Every man in the community felt that he had lost a friend."

The scientific world could have no better demonstration of Professor Chase's rare mathematical talents than his text book on Algebra, which is still used in one department of the college.

Professor Chase married Sarah Thompson, daughter of Ichabod Goodwin, and granddaughter of General Ichabod Goodwin, of South Berwick, Me. He died at Hanover, January 7, 1851.

In "Sprague's Annals of the American Pulpit," we find the following notice--furnished by the kindness of Rev. Daniel L. Furbur, D.D.--of a gentleman of great worth, whose early death was a serious loss to the college:

"David Peabody, the youngest son of John and Lydia (Balch) Peabody, was born at Topsfield, Ma.s.s., April 16, 1805. He was employed more or less upon his father's farm till he was fifteen or sixteen years of age; but as his physical const.i.tution was thought to be not well suited to agricultural life, and as his early tastes were more than ordinarily intellectual, and he had a strong desire for a collegiate education, his father consented to gratify him; and, in the spring of 1821, he commenced the study of Latin at Dummer Academy, Byfield. The same year his thoughts were earnestly directed to the great subject of his own salvation, though he did not feel so much confidence in the genuineness of his religious exercises as to make a public profession of his faith until three years afterwards. In 1824, he united with the Congregational Church in his native place, and in the autumn of the same year joined the Freshman cla.s.s in Dartmouth College.

"By severe labor during his collegiate course, he overtasked his naturally feeble const.i.tution, and thus prepared the way for much future debility and suffering. He was graduated in 1828, on which occasion he delivered the valedictory oration.

"After spending a few weeks in recruiting his health at his father's, he became, for a short time, a.s.sistant editor of the 'New Hampshire Observer,' at Portsmouth, but before the close of 1828 he entered the Theological Seminary at Andover. In the spring of 1829, he accepted an invitation to take charge of a Young Ladies' Select School at Portsmouth; but in the autumn of 1830 his declining health obliged him to relinquish it, and to seek a Southern residence. He went to Prince Edward County, Virginia, and secured a situation as teacher in an excellent family,--that of Dr. Morton, and at the same time entered the Union Theological Seminary, of which the Rev. Dr. John H. Rice was the founder and princ.i.p.al professor. He remained in the family of Dr.

Morton till he had completed the prescribed course of study, and was licensed to preach by the West Hanover Presbytery in April, 1831; after which he supplied the church at Scottsville for six months. So acceptable were his services, that the congregation would gladly have retained him as their pastor; but, as he preferred a Northern residence, he declined all overtures for a settlement, and returned to New England, with his health much improved, in 1832. In November of the same year he was ordained pastor of the First Church in Lynn, Ma.s.s. In September, 1834, he was married to Maria, daughter of Lincoln Brigham, then of Cambridge, but formerly of Southborough, Ma.s.s. In January, 1835, he was attacked with a severe hemorrhage, which greatly reduced his strength, and obliged him for a season to intermit his labors. Finding the climate unfavorable, he reluctantly came to the determination to resign his pastoral charge, with a view of seeking an inland home, when his health should be sufficiently recruited to justify him in resuming the stated duties of the ministry.

"Accordingly, in the spring of 1835, he was dismissed, after which he spent some time in traveling for the benefit of his health, at the same time acting as an agent for the Ma.s.sachusetts Sabbath-school Society. His health now rapidly improved, and on the 15th of July succeeding his dismission, he was installed as pastor of the Calvinist Church in Worcester.

"The change of climate seemed, for a time, highly beneficial, and had begun to induce the hope that his health might become fully established; but, in the winter of 1835-36, he was prostrated by another attack of hemorrhage, which again clouded his prospects of ministerial usefulness. In the spring of 1836, his health had so far improved that he resumed his ministerial labors and continued them through the summer; but in September, his symptoms again became more unfavorable, and he determined, in accordance with medical advice, to try the effect of a sea voyage and a winter in the South. Accordingly, he sailed in November for New Orleans; and, on arriving there, decided on going to St. Francisville, a village on the Mississippi. Here he remained during the winter, preaching to both the white and colored population, as his strength would allow. In the spring, he returned to his pastoral charge, with his health considerably invigorated. He labored pretty constantly, though not without much debility, until the succeeding spring (1838), when he found it necessary again to desist from his labors, and take a season of rest. In company with a friend, he journeyed through a part of Vermont and New Hampshire, and on reaching Hanover, the day after Commencement, was surprised to learn that he had been appointed professor of Rhetoric in Dartmouth College.

Conscious of his inability to meet any longer the claims of a pastoral charge, and hoping that his health might be adequate to the lighter duties of a professorship, he could not doubt that the indications of Providence were in favor of his accepting the appointment. He did accept it, and shortly after resigned his charge at Worcester, amidst many expressions of affection and regret on the part of his people, and, in October following, entered on the duties of his professorship.

"The change of labor proved highly beneficial, and during the winter of 1838-39, he enjoyed a degree of health which he had not known for many previous years. In March, he was so much encouraged in respect to himself that he remarked to a friend that he thought G.o.d would indulge the cherished wish of his heart, and permit him again to labor as a minister. But another cloud quickly appeared in his horizon, which proved ominous of the destruction of all his earthly hopes. In April following, he suffered from an attack of pleurisy, which was followed by lung fever; and, though he so far recovered as to be able to attend to his college duties till the September following, it became manifest to all that his disease was, on the whole, advancing towards a fatal termination. He died at the age of thirty-four years and six months, on the 17th of October, 1839. His last days were rendered eminently tranquil by the blessed hopes and consolations of the gospel. His funeral sermon was preached by the Rev. Dr. Lord, President of Dartmouth College, and was published. He left no children.

"Mr. Peabody's published works are a brief 'Memoir of Horace Ba.s.sett Morse,' 1830; a Discourse on 'The Conduct of Men Considered in Contrast with the Law of G.o.d,' 1836; a 'Sermon on the Sin of Covetousness, Considered in Respect to Intemperance, Indian Oppression, Slavery,' etc., 1838; the 'Patriarch of Hebron, or the History of Abraham' (posthumous), 1841."

FROM THE REV. SAMUEL G. BROWN, D.D.

"Dartmouth College, July 25, 1856.

"My Dear Sir: It gives me great pleasure to send you my impressions of Professor Peabody, though others could write with more authority. I knew him in college, where he was my senior. He belonged to a cla.s.s of great excellence, and was honorably distinguished throughout his college course for general scholarship, diligence, fidelity, and great weight of personal influence, in favor of all things 'excellent and of good report.' His character was mature and his mind already well disciplined when he entered the cla.s.s, and education had perhaps less to accomplish for him in the matter of elegant culture than for almost any one of his a.s.sociates. Hence there was not the same conspicuous progress in him as in some others. Yet at the time of graduation he stood among the first, as is indicated by the fact that he was the orator of one of the literary societies, and was selected by the Faculty to deliver the valedictory oration at Commencement. In every department of study he was a good scholar,--in the cla.s.sical, moral, and rhetorical departments, preeminent. As a preacher, he was distinguished for a certain fullness and harmony of style, justness in the exposition of doctrine, and weight of exhortation. He was prudent without being timid, and zealous without being rash; eminently practical, though possessing a love of ideal beauty, and a cultivated and sensitive taste, and as far removed from formalism on the one side as from fanaticism on the other. Dignified and courteous in manner, he was highly respected by all his acquaintances, and while a pastor, greatly esteemed and beloved by his people. His fine natural qualities were marred by few blemishes, and his religious character was steadily and constantly developed year by year. Grave, sincere, earnest, he went about his labors as one mindful of his responsibility, and as seen under his 'great Task-master's eye.' Indeed his anxieties outran his strength, and he was obliged to leave undone much that was dearest to his hopes. The disease to which he finally yielded had more than once 'weakened his strength in the way,' before he was finally prostrated by it. The consequent uncertainty of life had perhaps imparted to him more than usual seriousness, and a deep solicitude to work while the day lasted. He performed the duties of a professor in college but a single year, and that with some interruptions. No better account of the general impression of his life on those who knew him best can be given than in the language of a sermon preached at his funeral by the Rev. Dr. Lord.

"'What his private papers show him to have felt in the presence of his G.o.d was made evident, also, in his social and official intercourse.

Intelligent, grave, dignified; conscientious in all his relations, from the student upwards to the teacher, the pastor, the professor; nothing empty as a scholar, nothing unsettled or inconsistent as a divine, nothing vague or groundless as an instructor; sincere, generous, honorable, devout; keenly sensitive in respect to the proprieties and charities of life; warm in his affections, strong in his attachments, stern in his integrity; above the arts of policy, the jealousies of compet.i.tion, the subserviency of party spirit, and simply intent upon serving G.o.d, in his own house, and in all his official ministrations, he was one of the few who are qualified to be models for the young, ornaments to general society, and pillars in the church of G.o.d.'

"Hoping, dear sir, that this hasty and imperfect sketch may be of some trifling service in commemorating a good man, who deserves something much better,

"I am very truly your obedient friend and servant,

"S. G. Brown."

FROM THE REV. JOHN NELSON, D.D.

"Leicester, July 23, 1856.

"My dear sir: My personal acquaintance with the Rev. Mr. Peabody was limited to the period during which he was the pastor of the Central Church, in Worcester. While he held that office, I had, I may say, an intimate,--certainly a most happy, acquaintance with him. I often saw him in his own house, and often received him as a welcome guest in mine. I often met him in the a.s.sociation to which we both belonged and in ecclesiastical councils.

"I remember him as having a rather tall and commanding figure, and a benign countenance, beaming with intelligence, especially when engaged in conversation. This appearance, however, was modified by constant ill health. No one could be with him without receiving the impression that he was a scholar, as well as a deep and accurate thinker.

"The few sermons which I heard him read, or deliver from the pulpit, were of a high order, distinguished for both accuracy of style and power of thought. They were clear, methodical, and highly eloquent. It was my own impression, and I know it was the impression of some of his most distinguished hearers, that he was among the best preachers of his time. In ecclesiastical councils he was shrewd, discerning, and wise. As a friend, he was always reliable. His moral character was not only high, but well balanced, and marred by no inconsistencies.

"It is presumed that no one will dissent from the statement that, during the few years he was in Worcester, by his intelligence, his manly virtues, his kindness of heart, his active labors for the advancement of Christ's kingdom, and his ability as well as faithfulness as a preacher, he greatly commended himself, not only to the people of his immediate charge, but to the whole community in which he labored.

"Affectionately yours, "John Nelson."

We are indebted to "Sprague's Annals of the American Pulpit" for yet another notice--furnished by the kindness of Rev. Daniel Lancaster--of a gentleman widely known to the friends of education and religion.