Claude M. Fuess
An Old New England School

CHAPTER VIII

THE FOUNDING OF ANDOVER THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY

GREAT men have been among us; hands that penn'd
And tongues that utter'd wisdom --- better none.

THE Andover Theological Seminary, founded in 1808, was in certain respects an outgrowth of Phillips Academy, and was administered for a full century by the same Board of Trustees. For this reason, and for others which will become more apparent, it is necessary to speak briefly of the circumstances which led to the establishment of this, the first institution in the United States founded solely for the training of clergymen. The Seminary, like the Academy, fitted in with the Phillips scheme of education, which aimed at "the promotion of true Piety and Virtue." The success of the Seminary, however, was not altogether beneficial to the fortunes of Phillips Academy, for the newer school, heavily endowed, provided with imposing buildings and distinguished professors, soon overshadowed the parent institution; and the Trustees, who were, for the most part, more deeply concerned over the elucidation of a point in a creed than over obscure constructions in Latin and Greek grammar, naturally allowed the interests of the Academy to become subordinate. Nevertheless, the presence of the eminent men on the Seminary Faculty was an inspiration to townspeople and students, and the departure of the Seminary for Cambridge in 1908 was, in spite of the apparent advantage derived by Phillips Academy, really a distinct loss to the Hill.

THE STONE ACADEMY AND THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY IN 1840

THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY IN 1880

In the Constitution of Phillips Academy a passage, probably inserted after the body of that document had been drawn up, provides for instruction, not only in the elements of Christianity, but also in the broader features of the Calvinistic system of theology, especially for students planning to enter the ministry. It is improbable that the Founders, at this date, contemplated the establishment of a separate school of divinity; but they were eager to induce as many young men as possible to become clergymen and ready to pay much attention to the training of such pupils. The credit for the first suggestion of a theological institution belongs to the Reverend Jonathan French, who wrote in 1778: ---

The Phillips School has suggested a thought which I have often revolved in my mind. What if some enterprising pious genius should rise up, and set on foot a subscription for founding a Theological Seminary? Suppose the plan well concerted; and engaged, as well as engaging persons should convey the subscription about, and procure signers, till a sufficient sum be subscribed to raise a building in some central part of the country, sufficient to contain a number of students about equal to the number who annually devote themselves to the study of divinity, and sufficient to provide a handsome support to a president.

At the time nothing came of Mr. French's prophetic dream; but several Academy students pursued theological studies, either during their course in school or afterwards, with ministers in Andover, and particularly with Mr. French, who thus at times maintained what was almost a small seminary in his own household.

In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries in America there were no theological schools with a systematic organization; and young men desirous of becoming ministers were driven to secure their education through a sort of apprenticeship to older clergymen of prominence, who were usually, like Mr. French, willing to lend their help. Dr. Joseph Bellamy, Dr. John Smalley, Dr. Emmons, and a few other New England divines were often sought by students of theology. Other ministers, like the Reverend Samuel Phillips and the Reverend Jonathan French, took parishes soon after leaving college, and received their training in homiletics in the hard school of pulpit experience. At Harvard the Hollis Professor of Divinity was supposed to assist candidates for the ministry, but few took advantage of the opportunity. Dr. Dwight at Yale also undertook to deliver a course of lectures suited to young divinity students. But in no college was there adequate professional instruction of an organized kind for the benefit of prospective clergymen.

At the death of Dr. John Phillips in 1795 it was found that a clause in his will provided for the instruction of pupils in the two academies at Andover and Exeter in the study of divinity, under the direction of "some eminent Calvinistic minister of the Gospel," until a regular Professor of Theology could be employed in those schools. Some correspondence of this period indicates that Mr. French was the testator's choice for this position; at any rate, the South Parish minister, from about 1796 until 1807, acted as a provisional Professor of Divinity, receiving for his services a small salary from the Academy funds. This amount, fixed none too liberally, in 1795, at forty dollars a year, was increased to sixty dollars in 1802 and to eighty dollars in 1806. More than twenty candidates for the ministry were thus assisted in Andover during the years immediately preceding the opening of the Seminary.

Meanwhile, Samuel Abbot, Esq.(1) (1732-1812), a well-known Andover citizen, had been quietly considering fruitful plans. At the age of nineteen he had become a merchant in Boston, and, at the outbreak of the Revolution, he was able to retire to Andover with a moderate fortune, which, by careful management, he considerably enlarged. Being without children, he had planned to leave his money to one of his wife's relatives, a young man who, however, died before reaching maturity. Abbot, who had become more religious as he grew older, then resolved to devote his property to the education of young men for the Christian ministry. Having been since 1795 a Trustee of Phillips Academy, he was on intimate terms with his colleagues, Dr. Pearson and Dr. Tappan, with both of whom he consulted as to the most satisfactory disposition of the proposed gift. Acting on their advice Abbot, in a will signed May 10, 1803, made Harvard College his residuary legatee, the money to be used for the support of theological pupils in that institution. When, however, he became convinced two years later that the spirit of Harvard was rapidly moving towards Unitarianism, he made a codicil to his will, June 8, 1805, in which he revoked his former bequest and directed that the entire legacy should be paid to the Trustees of Phillips Academy: "to be appropriated to the support of a Theological Professor in said Academy, of sound, orthodox, Calvinistic principles of divinity, and for the maintenance of students in divinity." It will be noticed that the idea of making his scheme a reality during his own lifetime had apparently not yet occurred to Abbot.

The various projects of this kind in the air during this first decade of the nineteenth century needed only an enthusiastic leader to give them form. Fortunately, such a man appeared in Eliphalet Pearson, who, since his departure for Cambridge in 1786, had made himself a name. His scholarship, displayed in his able revision of a Hebrew grammar and in his studies in Oriental tongues, had met with full appreciation. His enterprise and sagacity had found a field in the multifarious details of college administration. He was applauded as a talented and inspiring teacher. Leonard Woods, one of his pupils at Harvard, said of him: ---

I have ever considered his instructions as constituting at least half of my collegiate education. No other officer in the college had equal influence in promoting improvement in literature, and the higher interest of morality and piety.

In 1800 he was chosen a Fellow of the Corporation; and after the death of President Joseph Willard in September, 1804, Pearson assumed for more than a year the duties of Acting President of the college. Meanwhile Unitarian doctrine had taken a firm root in Cambridge, and the friends of "liberal Christianity" were not unreluctant to assail the more orthodox adherents of Calvinism. When Dr. Tappan, the Hollis Professor of Divinity, died in August, 1803, Dr. Pearson brought on a bitter quarrel in the Corporation by insisting that the next incumbent of that chair should be "of sound orthodox faith"

---that is, a strict Calvinist. Notwithstanding Pearson's vigorous opposition the Reverend Henry Ware, well known as an advocate of Unitarian doctrine, was elected in February, 1805, to the vacant professorship. As a climax, Pearson, who was a candidate for the Presidency, was rejected in favor of Professor Webber, who was elected on March 3, 1806. Pearson also found another grievance in the fact that his salary had not been increased in proportion to the additional responsibilities which had fallen to his lot as Acting President. Early in March, therefore, he sent in his resignation as Hancock Professor, stating that, after twenty years of endeavor to improve the literary and religious state of the college, there now remained no reasonable hope of accomplishing the reformation he wished, that the events of the last year had so deeply affected his mind, and spread such a gloom over the university, as to exclude the hope of his rendering any essential service to the interests of religion by continuing his relation to it, and he therefore requested an acceptance of his resignation. The Corporation willingly allowed him to withdraw, and presented an interesting report in which Pearson's allegations were denied in toto. The whole quarrel was a phase of the struggle between Unitarianism and Calvinism, Pearson being the chief advocate of Calvinistic theology.

Pearson's Andover friends did not propose to have him suffer as a martyr for the cause of what was to them the only true religion. The old house on Salem Street, occupied in 1804 by a certain Captain Towne, had been renovated and enlarged after his departure, but no tenant had been secured. On March 20, 1806, the Trustees, having just heard of Pearson's resignation, voted him this house "rent free for one year, in consideration of the long, faithful, and important services he has rendered the Academy from its first institution, & in hope of enjoying his further aid, & future patronage & influence." In this residence, later occupied for many years by Principal John Adams, Pearson lived from 1806 until 1810.

It took only a few weeks for Pearson's aggressive personality to be felt. Believing that Harvard, with its radical doctrines, was no longer fitted to train Congregational ministers and that some powerful institution must be organized to counteract the spread of Unitarian principles, he introduced the topic of a theological seminary for discussion among his friends. As early as July 10, 1806, a meeting, attended by seven men, was held at the Mansion House; the subject of a "Theological School" was talked over, and Pearson was asked to prepare an argument for the "necessity and advantages" of such an institution.

This article appeared soon after in the Panoplist, the Calvinist monthly magazine, edited by Dr. Jedediah Morse. The men thus called together were, it appears, well aware of Samuel Abbot's intention of endowing a seminary at Andover after his death. Largely because of Pearson's persuasive tongue Abbot was finally convinced that it would be advantageous to found such a school at once. As the outgrowth of much informal discussion, in which the Reverend Jonathan French, the Reverend Jedediah Morse, Dr. Chaplin, of Groton, Colonel John Phillips, 'Squire Farrar, and others took part, it was decided to entrust the funds and the administration of the proposed institution to the Trustees of Phillips Academy; for it was by no means certain that the General Court as it was then constituted would allow the incorporation of any group of men for the purpose of establishing such a seminary. On June 9, 1807, then, certain members of the Board of Trustees were informed that Phillips Academy might expect large additions to its funds if it could secure legislative authority to receive them, and "would appropriate them to give effect to the design of the founders of the Academy relative to theological instruction in said Academy." An application to the General Court resulted in a bill, passed June 19, 1807, empowering the Trustees of Phillips Academy to hold, in addition to what they were already entitled to own, real and personal property with an income not exceeding five thousand dollars. On September 2, 1807, a Constitution of the Seminary, composed mainly by Dr. Pearson, Mr. French, and 'Squire Farrar, was submitted to the Trustees and accepted by that body. By its terms Samuel Abbot promised the sum of $20,000 in trust as a fund for perpetuating a Professorship of Christian Theology; while Madame Phillips and her son, Colonel John, agreed to erect two separate buildings. This happy issue of the matter was due directly to Pearson's perseverance and tireless energy, which encouraged the others and inspired faith in his plans. It was during this period that he climbed the noble old oak tree still standing in the rear of Pearson Hall, in order to map out the campus and fix suitable sites for the proposed houses and halls.

But his task was as yet hardly begun. While he had been laboring with the details of his project, Dr. Samuel Spring, a Newburyport clergyman, had been seeking the cooperation of several wealthy gentlemen in his vicinity, with the object of organizing an independent divinity school. Dr. Spring and his followers, who represented a distinct branch of Calvinism, were frequently called "Hopkinsians," after the noted Dr. Samuel Hopkins, whose tenets they were supposed to hold.

Into the technical questions of creed and dogma involved it would be futile to enter in a book of this kind. Broadly speaking, Dr. Pearson and his friends belonged to the "Catechism Calvinists," who were prepared to accept without explanation the Catechism of the Westminster Assembly as a basis for their Seminary; Dr. Spring's party, who were rather more extreme in their theology, were sometimes called "Consistent Calvinists," because they desired a separate creed which would explain the Catechism.

The story of the joining of these two groups, if told in full, involves, as Professor Theodore W. Dwight(2) once said, "an account of a long and complicated negotiation between theologians of great ability and astuteness in drawing fine-spun distinctions." Indeed, it is probable that nothing but the fear which both felt for the growing spirit of liberalism at Harvard could possibly have brought them on common ground.

Dr. Spring had finally succeeded in arousing the interest of three wealthy gentlemen: William Bartlet(3) (1747-1841), a shipowner of Newburyport, Moses Brown(4) (1742-1827), an importer of sugar and molasses in the same city, and John Norris(5) (1748-1808), a prominent Salem merchant. In interviews with these men in the latter part of 1806 he had obtained from each a promise to give $10,000 to the proposed seminary. Within a few days the Reverend Jedediah Morse, who was already familiar with the Andover plans, heard of the Newburyport project, and at once realized that there were excellent reasons why the two groups should form a coalition. After consulting with Dr. Pearson and his colleagues, Dr. Morse went to Newburyport and proposed to Dr. Spring a plan of union, which was, however, rejected, principally because the latter felt that his views could not be reconciled with those of the "Catechism Calvinists." Dr. Pearson soon learned indirectly that Mr. Bartlet and Mr. Brown were not so strongly averse to joining forces; and he therefore with commendable optimism determined to make every effort to unite the two parties. Nine months were spent in attempting to bring about a compromise, during which period, said Professor Park, "Dr. Pearson journeyed alone in his chaise (a distance of twenty miles) thirty-six times from Andover Hill to Newburyport, and there reasoned with the keen dialecticians who opposed the Seminary at Andover." Mrs. Blanchard, Dr. Pearson's daughter, wrote of him at this time: "His whole soul was engrossed, & many anxious days and sleepless nights & Prayerful hours could bear witness to his devout ardor." Josiah Quincy, who knew the situation well, said: "Whatever good has resulted, or shall result, from the mere fact of this union, the merit of establishing it belongs to Eliphalet Pearson." So successful was he that by July, 1807, it became evident that, despite Dr. Spring's vigorous objections (which were never entirely met), some amicable arrangement could probably be devised.

On December 1, 1807, Spring, Pearson, and Morse, as agents of the Founders and Donors, met at Charlestown and agreed on an "Associate Creed," embodying what was known as the "Visitatorial System." A Board of three "Visitors" was to be formed, consisting of two clergymen and one layman, one of them to be chosen by the Andover Founders, one by the Newburyport Associate Donors, and the third to be agreed upon by both parties. Four of the Founders and Donors, Abbot, Bartlet, Brown, and Norris, reserved the right to be Visitors during their respective lifetimes. This Board, the idea of which originated with Dr. Spring and his friends, was to have a general supervisory power over the Seminary, and, in particular, to serve as a Court of Appeal from the decisions of the Board of Trustees.

On May 4, 1808, the "Statutes of the Associate Foundation," in which William Bartlet promised $20,000 and Moses Brown and John Norris $10,000 each towards the Seminary endowment, were communicated to the Trustees of Phillips Academy. It was by no means sure even then that the Trustees would care to accept a trust which so limited their power of independent and untrammeled action. Some of the members were Moderate Calvinists, others were Unitarians, and both groups were inclined to look with suspicion upon Hopkinsian schemes. Two further points were far from pleasing to the Andover theologians: first, the stipulation that each professor under the Associate Foundation must, on the day of his inauguration, subscribe publicly to his belief in a specially written creed composed by Dr. Spring and Dr. Woods; second, the provision that the whole arrangement should be an experiment, which the Associate Donors might terminate at the end of seven years. The Trustees discussed the" Statutes" with great care, taking them up article by article. At last on May 10 the decisive vote was taken, with only eight of the Trustees present: seven gave their assent, the eighth, the Reverend Daniel Dana, remaining silent, evidently in disapproval. Dr. Pearson's long labors had been rewarded, for the compromise thus effected between diverse opinions was destined to endure. The final ratification was accomplished when Leonard Woods, of Newbury, a moderate Hopkinsian, was nominated on October 1, 1807, by Samuel Abbot as his first Professor of Christian Theology, and this courtesy was reciprocated on March 2, 1808, by the appointment of Dr. Pearson as the first Professor of Natural Theology on the Associate endowment.

The Andover Theological Seminary thus organized was formally opened for students on September 22, 1808, in the South Parish Church, with appropriate exercises, including a prayer by Mr. French, the reading of the Constitution of the Seminary and the Associate Statutes, and an historical summary by Dr. Pearson of the rise and progress of the Academy, in which he proved that the Seminary was a logical outgrowth of Phillips Academy and that the two institutions should therefore work in harmonious coöperation. In the afternoon a sermon was preached by Dr. Timothy Dwight, Dr. Pearson, who was a layman, was regularly ordained, and the two professors, Pearson and Woods, were installed in office. Professor Woods then delivered an inaugural address on The Glory and Excellence of the Gospel. Nineteen students were at once received, and thirty-six had registered before the close of the first year. "We may live to see twenty students here," said ‘Squire Farrar, as he walked away from the church after the ceremonies; he lived to see one hundred and fifty. Until Phillips Hall was completed in 1809 lectures were held in the old Abbot House, where Dr. Woods had recently followed Principal Newman as a resident. Dr. Pearson, who had accepted a professorship only with great reluctance, found the position little to his taste and resigned at the end of the first year.

The aspect of Andover Hill at once began to change. Phillips Hall, a dormitory for Seminary students, was erected by Madame Phoebe Phillips and her son, at a cost of $16,000. It was modeled principally after dormitories at Brown University, which Colonel John Phillips had gone to Providence to inspect. Madame Phillips put her heart into the project, and is reported to have said, "I hope a prayer will be offered for every hod of brick, and every bucket of mortar used in the erection." A wooden steward's house, containing a kitchen, a dining-room, and accommodations for the steward and his family, was constructed in the rear of the brick hall. Here the Seminary Commons boardinghouse was opened and continued until 1846; the building itself was moved about 1850 to the northeast corner of Main and Morton Streets, where it is to-day occupied as a dwelling. By December, 1809, workmen were busy excavating for the President's House, built by William Bartlet for Dr. Edward Dorr Griffin, the first Bartlet Professor of Sacred Rhetoric. Dr. Griffin, taking literally the carte blanche tendered him by Mr. Bartlet, made the mansion far more luxurious than its donor had intended. When the shipowner protested mildly against the gorgeous parlor wallpaper at a dollar a roll, Dr. Griffin hastily had the room redecorated with paper of a twenty-five cent grade, also at Mr. Bartlet's expense. By 1811, when the beautiful home was completed, Dr. Griffin had resigned to accept the pulpit of the Park Street Church in Boston, and Dr. Ebenezer Porter, his successor in office, was the first actually to occupy the dwelling.

Another of Mr. Bartlet's generous gifts was the Stuart House, finished in 1812 for Professor Moses Stuart,(6) the eminent Hebrew scholar, who occupied it until 1852. Across the street Mark Newman had completed his new dwelling; and in 1812, on the site of the first Academy, 'Squire Farrar built himself a residence. In 1816 the "Faculty Row" on Main Street was improved by the construction of the Woods House, erected by a bequest of Samuel Abbot, Esq., for the use of Professor Leonard Woods.(7) All these dwellings were of the colonial type, square and solid in design, and built of wood. Without being extravagantly or elaborately planned, they represent good domestic architecture of that period. At the time when they were completed, and for years after, they were enclosed by white fences; and the houses themselves were uniformly painted a simple white until Professor Stuart's daughters, tiring of the conventional hue, had their own home painted a light drab while their father was away on a visit. The Woods House, because of an idiosyncrasy of its occupant, was for nearly half a century without blinds, so that its natural plainness was accentuated.

THE NEWMAN HOUSE

THE PHELPS HOUSE

When one remembers that all these buildings were put up within fifteen years, one realizes how extensive was the change wrought by the establishment of Andover Theological Seminary. In a few years, almost within a few months, Andover became a busy community, altogether unlike the quiet, isolated spot selected in 1777 by Samuel Phillips, Jr., as a suitable location for his school. The effect upon Phillips Academy could hardly help being far-reaching.

As a matter of fact the history of the school was to a considerable extent bound up with that of the theological institution, and the Trustees, charged with the interests of both, were often unable to treat one apart from the other. Seminary students frequently acted as assistants in the Academy. The officers and teachers of the two schools were naturally often thrown together, both professionally and socially. Such men as Principal John Adams and Dr. Samuel H. Taylor were the intimate associates of the Seminary professors, and were regularly consulted by them. Unfortunately, the Trustees often came to view the Academy as subsidiary to the Seminary, and, probably without deliberately intending it, neglected the needs of the older school as being relatively unimportant. The close connection between the two institutions makes it impossible to write the history of Phillips Academy without many incidental references to the Seminary and its able men; but no attempt can be made in this volume to review, even briefly, the story of that divinity school. When, in 1908, the land and buildings of the Seminary came to be the property of the Academy, Andover Hill, marvelously altered, was again, as in 1808, the seat of Phillips Academy alone.

 

CHAPTER IX

THE REGENERATION UNDER JOHN ADAMS

To have built up one of the historic schools of New England; to have set the impress of a sterling character upon some thousands of American girls and boys; to have become in extreme old age a pioneer of civilization in a great Western State --- this surely is to deserve the grateful memory of those who come after.

THE most attractive and striking of the portraits now hanging in Brechin Hall is that of John Adams, the fourth Principal of Phillips Academy. The head is massive and finely modeled; the handsome features, clear blue eyes, and erect bearing show consciousness of power; and the figure gives the impression of sound and vigorous manhood. It is not difficult to believe that he represented in his personality what Lowell calls, ---

The high stern-featured beauty
Of plain devotedness to duty,
Steadfast and still, nor paid with mortal praise,
But finding amplest recompense
For life's ungarlanded expense
In work done squarely and unwasted days.

Of all those who have occupied the office of Principal no one has come nearer than he to realizing in his work and life the specific ideals of the Founders.

Adams was not, however, a man of spectacular gifts or of extraordinary genius. The caustic Josiah Quincy the younger once wrote of him: ---

He was an excellent man with no distinguishing traits. He was very religious, but had no literary tastes. His classical attainments enabled him to fit boys for college, but went no further. He was particular in the observance of all religious exercises, both in the family and in the school, and did all he could to promote the moral and spiritual interests of his pupils.

In some respects this description --- which resembles damning with faint praise --- is fairly accurate. It is true, for instance, that Adams was not a wide reader and that he had no decided interest in literature. He was, furthermore, in no sense a profound scholar, even in Latin and Greek. But Quincy's colorless characterization fails to illumine Adams's finer qualities. His pupils and colleagues found him an efficient administrator, a stern but just disciplinarian, and a well-informed teacher. One of his associates said of him: --

His attainments, if not brilliant, were substantial. What he knew he knew thoroughly, and he had an unusual faculty for communicating knowledge to the minds of others.

Even among such keen intellects as Dr. Pearson and Professor Woods, Moses Stuart and Ebenezer Porter, Adams was not thrust entirely into the background, for, although he was never witty or clever, he had a capacity for patient toil and a quiet, dogged persistence which compelled respect. Instinctively a conservative, he was also occasionally an innovator, keeping pace, at least until he grew old, with life around him and not infrequently venturing on his own measures of mild and unobtrusive reform. Above all, he was a thoroughly good man, an active and inspiring moral force in his community. From the moment of his arrival in Andover he resolved to study out and fulfill the stipulations of the Constitution regarding the influence of the Principal on the religious tone of the school. His methods are indicated in a letter written by Dr. Jonathan F. Stearns: --(1)

Mr. Adams was, by all his views, habits, and impulses, a revival man, and was never happier than when he saw a revival beginning and going forward. His favorite hymns were in that strain. He often conversed personally with individuals on the subject of personal piety.

His avowed desire was "to lay as securely as possible in the character of every pupil the foundation of Christian manhood."

John Adams was always proud of being able to trace his ancestry to the same forbears as the two Presidents of the same name. He was born September 18, 1772, in Canterbury, Connecticut, the eldest of the ten children of Captain John Adams and his wife, Mary Parker Adams. In his early days on the farm he soon learned to do a man's full work as teamster or laborer. His father, poor, but ambitious for his son, managed, through rigid economy, to save six hundred dollars for the boy's education. He was admitted to Yale in 1791 and graduated four years later with high rank, being chosen to deliver the English Oration and also a Commencement Address, the subject of which, The Benefits of Theatrical Amusements, was hardly consistent with his later views. Although he was far from being a wild youth, he had a good share of animal spirits. He was conceded to be the best dancer in his class, and was made leader of the annual student ball. Years after, when his attitude towards such frivolity had hardened into intolerance, he was often troubled by the memory of what he called the "follies" of his undergraduate days.

When his college course was finished, the young man returned to Canterbury, where, at his mother's request, he took charge of a school near his home, so that be might assist in caring for her through the pain of an incurable disease. In 1798 he married Elizabeth Ripley, a young lady from the neighboring town of Windham. Shortly after the wedding Adams's mother died, and he felt free at last to accept a position as Rector of Plainfield Academy, which he had been obliged to refuse a few years before. In 1801, then, he went to Plainfield, where, although he found the school in a "sickly condition," he proved himself to be capable and energetic. So prosperous did the institution become in his hands that the Trustees of Bacon Academy at Colchester, Connecticut, hearing of his success, offered him an opportunity in that school. In his seven years at Bacon Academy the attendance increased to nearly two hundred. In 1810, however, a discussion arose with the Trustees over a matter of discipline, and Adams, learning that his recommendation was not accepted, tendered his resignation, refusing even their most earnest entreaties to reconsider his action. The late winter of 1810 thus found him without a position.

Meanwhile affairs at Phillips Academy had gone from bad to worse. The first choice of the Trustees for the principalship left vacant by Newman's resignation was Ebenezer Adams, of Exeter, who, however, declined the offer. An interregnum of some months followed, during which Newman, at the urgent request of the Trustees, retained a supervisory control of the institution, while several assistants, students in the Theological Seminary, conducted the recitations. Among these young men were Samuel Nott (1787-1869), one of the first missionaries of the American Board of Foreign Missions; Samuel Thomas Mills (1785-1853); John Frost (1783-184e); Ansel Nash (1788-1851), later an agent of the American Education Society; and John Brown (1786-1839), afterwards a prominent Boston clergyman. Under this system of casual and poorly regulated instruction no firm discipline was possible, and the crisis which had been foreshadowed under Newman seemed ever more dangerously imminent. At this moment the Trustees heard the news of Adams's resignation from Bacon Academy, and knowing of his reputation, elected him, on March 22, 1810, as Principal of Phillips Academy, with a guarantee of nine hundred dollars a year and a suitable house. Adams promptly accepted the proposal, and the Trustees paid the moving expenses for his household from Colchester to Andover. By May the new Principal was settled in the house on Salem Street just vacated by Dr. Pearson.

John Adams was then in the prime of life, with fourteen years of teaching experience behind him. His character and personality at once commended him to the Trustees. He is described at this period as "erect, handsome, of good presence, the habitual sternness of his expression relieved by the humor which lurked in his full blue eyes." People noticed particularly his marked dignity, his self-control, and his air of command which made the boys obey his slightest nod.

Had Adams been a feeble or even a mediocre man, Phillips Academy, weakened by the two critical years before his arrival, might easily have shared the dismal fate of many another New England school; fortunately, his manner inspired confidence, and the event justified the reports which had been spread of his previous success. He closed his first year with thirty-three pupils, and, on August 18, 1812, he was permitted by the Trustees to raise the number to seventy. Eventually the Board, sympathizing with Adams's ambition to enlarge the school, voted that, when the number of students should exceed seventy-five, a second assistant should be provided, and that, when over a hundred were in attendance, a third assistant might be secured. From 1817 until 1824, when the Academy under Adams was most prosperous, there were under this arrangement four teachers on the Faculty. The actual growth in numbers is shown by the fact that, during the twenty-two years of Adams's principalship, 1119 boys were admitted, nearly a hundred more than had entered in the preceding thirty-two years. Five hundred and fifty of Adams's students continued their education in college, as compared with three hundred and seventy under Pearson, Pemberton, and Newman.

As yet, however, Phillips Academy was far from being national in its representation or influence. Of the twenty-nine who entered in 1810 only three were from outside New England, and twenty-two were from Massachusetts. In the large entering class of ninety in 1817, there were only three from west of the Hudson River. Of the forty-seven who registered in 1828, twenty-one were from Andover, and all but nine were from Massachusetts. Like Plainfield Academy, Dummer Academy, and other similar schools, Phillips Academy drew its patronage largely from the immediate vicinity, with only a few scattering students from a distance.

One marked change was beginning to show itself in the fact that graduates of Phillips were choosing other colleges than Harvard. In 1811 seventeen of the Senior class selected Harvard, five Dartmouth, and one Yale. By 1819 the ratio had shifted. Of the ninety men who were admitted in that year twenty went eventually to Yale, twelve to Harvard, and eight to Brown. Of those who entered Phillips Academy in 1829, not one went to Harvard. This steadily increasing trend towards New Haven and away from Cambridge is to be attributed largely to the prevailing prejudice of the Seminary Faculty, and especially of Dr. Pearson, President of the Trustees, against Harvard and all that it represented, and partly to the personal influence of Principal Adams, who was an enthusiastic recruiter for his own college. Many Andover graduates were also choosing other colleges, either new or just coming into prominence: thus from 1810 to 1830 forty-five went to Amherst, forty-three to Brown, thirty-six to Union, thirty-four to Bowdoin, twenty-two to Middlebury, thirteen to Williams, and fifteen to other institutions. During the entire twenty years one hundred and forty-three Andover men went to Harvard, one hundred and thirty-seven to Yale, and eighty-three to Dartmouth.

Under John Adams Phillips Academy was still conducted much like the grammar school of to-day: that is, the boys spent practically all day in the school building, with an hour's intermission for lunch, and did most of their studying, not at their houses, but at recitation-rooms under the teacher's surveillance. The second Academy building, which was manifestly inadequate to the requirements of the growing school, was destroyed by fire on the night of January 30, 1818, almost exactly thirty-two years after it had first been occupied. Before any fire apparatus could be brought up, the flames had devoured nearly the entire structure, and hardly a piece of timber was left intact. Subscription papers, signed by a committee consisting of Dr. Pearson, Dr. Dana, and Principal Adams, were sent out on March 7, making a vigorous appeal for funds, and work was begun at once on the third Academy building, the "Classic Hall" of Oliver Wendell Holmes, now in use as a dining-hall. Of the expense of this structure, amounting to $13,252.73, the sum of $5000 was contributed by His Honor William Phillips,(2) of Boston, $3683.83 was subscribed by President Kirkland of Harvard, and others, and the balance was taken from various unappropriated funds. The new hall was constructed of brick in the best colonial style, the architect being the well-known Charles Bulfinch. It was placed exactly in line with the Seminary buildings on a knoll to the south.

HIS HONOR WILLIAM PHILLIPS

JOHN ADAMS

As it was then arranged for school purposes, the entrance was by a door at the north end; on the wall at the south side hung the handsome clock, presented in 1819 by Mrs. Margaret Phillips,(3) Judge Oliver Wendell's sister, who had married William Phillips, of Boston, Judge Phillips's second cousin. On its case this clock bore one of Judge Phillips's favorite sayings, --- "Youth is the Seed-Time of Life." It was invariably wound up in school hours by Adams himself, who mounted to it by means of a stepladder placed on one of the benches. While the boys waited expectantly, half hoping that he might fall, he would usually call attention to the inscription and improve the opportunity for a few "moral observations."

Dr. Jonathan F. Stearns has written a vivid description of the interior as he remembered it in 1823: --

Coming in the door at the north end, we passed the entrance of two recitation rooms, right and left of the entryway, and entered the main school room, passing between two high seats or thrones .... Just below, against the wall on either side, stood two immense Russian stoves of brick work reaching nearly to the ceiling, in which were kept in winter two roaring fires. Fronting all this array were the scholars' benches, --- in school hours with scholars in them, --- under the immediate eye of the authorities above. They were arranged in rows with double boxes, rising gently to the farther wall, with alleys between, and two scholars in each. The younger ones sat for the most part towards the front; the Seniors on the further end. And, in the back-seats, sat a row of monitors; full-grown men, old men they looked to me, whose office it was to call the school to order at the appointed hour, in turn, by hammering, up and down, the bench lid and shouting with authority, "Order!" And then, order was, right soon.

Thereupon, punctual to the moment, appeared the venerable John Adams, and took his seat, then Jonathan Clement, then the other assistants. Mr. Adams rose in his place and invoked the divine blessing, then read the Scriptures with Scott's Commentaries, made a few explanatory or instructive comments of his own, then read a hymn, which was sung, by all that could sing, under the lead of the Academy choir, then led us in more extended prayer.

Devotions over, occasion was taken by the Principal to attend to many matters of order or discipline which seemed to him to require attention in the presence of the whole school, and assistants retired to their recitation rooms, --- the morning classes were called, the books were spread out on the benches, and the low hum of school life showed the work of the day had begun.

From Dr. Ray Palmer,(4) who also was admitted to the Academy in 1823, we learn other details about the school routine: --

Mr. Adams heard but comparatively few classes, and was often absent a considerable part of the day --- say an hour or two at a time. Recitations went on until twelve o'clock --- then recess till two --- then recitations till the close of the day at five. One afternoon in each week were declamations, and on Saturday the whole school was required to stand and pass a thorough examination in Latin grammar. Any mistake, even in accent, obliged the scholar to take his seat; and a considerable part went down, often before the regular exercise was through. The only other variation from the regular daily order was on Monday morning, when the Sabbath lesson in Mason's Self-Knowledge or Porter's Evidences of Christianity was recited the first thing after prayers.

To this must be added the description given by Oliver Wendell Holmes of the class of 1825, in his poem The School-Boy: --

How all comes back! The upward-slanting floor,
The masters' thrones that flank the central door,
The long outstretching alleys that divide
The rows of desks that stand on either side,
The staring boys, a face to every desk,
Bright, dull, pale, blooming, common, picturesque.
Grave is the Master's look, his forehead wears
Thick rows of wrinkles, prints of worrying cares.
Uneasy lie the heads of all that rule,
He most of all whose kingdom is a school.
Supreme he sits. Before the awful frown
That bends his brows the boldest eye goes down.
Not more submissive Israel heard and saw
At Sinai's feet the Giver of the Law.

Principal Adams, as Holmes implies, was a strict disciplinarian who would not tolerate disorder. General H. K. Oliver, referring to his experience in Phillips Academy in 1811, said: ---

I was unfit to meet any sternness at school; and Mr. Adams was pretty severe, and pretty often we could "trace the day's disasters in his morning face." He ruled not a little by the ferule.

Samuel T. Worcester (1805-82), a student in 1826, confirms this opinion: --

Mr. Adams, I think, was looked upon as a good disciplinarian, but perhaps somewhat rigorous and exacting. Some of his methods of corporal punishment would be offensive to more modern notions, especially a form of castigation that he used to call shingling.

It is remarkable, however, that we hear so few tales of actual flogging by the teachers of that day. The most light upon this interesting matter is thrown by Captain John Codman, of the class of 1823, who once wrote: ---

In the old Academy building we sat facing the two thrones of judgment. As they faced us, that of Master Clement, the assistant, was on the right of that of Master Adams, the principal. Each had his wand of office; that of Master Adams was the most fortiter in re or rather in manu. It was a villainous ferule about a foot long, with a little bulb at one end so that it might not slip from his own hand, and with a sort of salad-spoon termination at the other just fitted to the palm of a boy. The sceptre of Master Clement was a cowhide or a big hickory switch with which he argued a posteriori.

Oliver Wendell Holmes never forgot the beating which, for some trivial offense, he received from Jonathan Clement:---(5)

I was subjected to the severest castigation known, I believe, in the annals of punishment in that institution, such as made a sensation among all the delicate females of the vicinity, and caused young men to utter violent threats, and was, in fact, almost the occasion of a riot. It was an unfortunate display of temper on the part of one of the instructors.

This punishment, and his aversion to the "errors" of evangelical, or Calvinist, doctrine, were responsible for the, prejudice which Holmes held for many years against Andover. Long afterward, when both Holmes and Clement were old men, the latter called upon his former pupil and apologized for the chastisement which he had inflicted.

Principal Adams made some changes in school administration. Early in his term of office he devised a scheme of dividing the pupils into two separate classes: the Seniors, who were to graduate at the next Exhibition; and the Juniors, consisting of those who proposed to remain. He also perfected a plan by which recitations were held in small squads, of from two or three to ten or twelve boys, grouped together according to their stages of advancement. In 1814 he supervised the publication of the first annual catalogue, a mere broadside sheet containing only the names of instructors and students. In 1822 this became a ten-page folder, printed by Flagg and Gould, in which were given lists of Trustees, teachers, and pupils, but no other information. In 1815 the Trustees established an entrance fee of five dollars, and also a regular tuition fee of five dollars a quarter, "to be used for tuition, fuel, and incidental expenses."

Exhibitions were held as usual, although some variations were permitted. On May 11, 1814, a drama, The Mistake, was performed at Phillips Academy, with a prologue by William Person.

Although the curriculum in general was not much altered under John Adams, there were a few minor modifications. Samuel Phillips, son of Colonel John Phillips, entered the Academy in 1809 and graduated in 1815. He describes in detail the course which he pursued: --

It consisted mainly of Latin and Greek, with just enough arithmetic (to or through the Rule of Three) to secure admission to college. We began at that time with Adams's Latin Grammar. We were confined to that for a while, --- and then came a Latin Reader, with double columns, Latin and English. Liber Primus and Viri Romae came a little later, and were used as text-books when I came back from college. In my time, we were hurried on to Virgil and Cicero's Select Orations after finishing grammar, --- after which the Graeca Minora; but after Mr. Adams's advent, he introduced the Selecta e Profanis Scriptoribus, a book containing much to edify and gratify more advanced students.

A graduate of the class of 1811 presents a gloomy picture of the curriculum in his day: --

I well remember that the general object sought was to grind into us and gerund us in a knowledge of the Greek and Latin languages. All other knowledge was of minor consequence, this being attained by a severe course of the most persistent gerund-grinding; an exclusive memorizing, first of all, of the entire Greek and Latin Grammar before entering upon any practical application of its forms or rules. The whole business, and it was the same all over the land, was a melancholy misunderstanding of the function of education.

How this method of teaching worked in practice is described by Dr. William Goode!!, who graduated in 1813: --

We would decline any noun in any declension, naming it in every case from the nominative singular to the ablative plural, going through the whole at one breath. Then we would go backward at one breath from the ablative plural to the nominative singular. To us this was real fun, and to Mr. Adams it seemed real fun to hear us.

In 1820, at Adams's suggestion, the Trustees arranged a prescribed course for a diploma, the required studies being outlined under twenty heads, of which thirteen were classical and two mathematical. This schedule is likely to impress a modern educator as being unnecessarily one-sided, for it makes no mention of any science, of any living language except English, or of any history except that of Greece and Rome. Every boy had also to learn to sing, and to take lessons from a writing-master. In addition to this specified course, further provision was made for more advanced students, by offering them, not new subjects, but an opportunity to read the more difficult classical Greek texts, such as Thucydides and Herodotus. It is undoubtedly true, as William Person(6) asserted in 1814, that at that date "all branches taught in the Freshman, and the greater part of the Sophomore classes in Brown University" might be pursued in Phillips Academy.

But Adams's influence was exhibited most decisively in the field of morals and religion. Himself a devout and earnest man, he felt a keen responsibility for the spiritual welfare of those entrusted to his care. "The pious," wrote Person in 1815, "are his especial favorites." On Sunday mornings he held regular Bible classes in the Academy building; on Saturdays the boys recited a lesson of about ten pages in Mason's Self-Knowledge; on Mondays they were called upon to give abstracts of the sermons of the preceding day and also to answer questions on several pages of Vincent's Explanation of the Shorter Catechism. For years prayer-meetings organized and conducted by the boys themselves were held in the unfinished third story of the Brick Academy, a kind of loft or attic where the participants were very much to themselves. A large proportion of the pupils --- according to Adams, one in every five --- later entered the Christian ministry, many of them as the direct result of a conversion brought about by the Principal. Nearly every class in his administration had a revival of religion at some time during the course. Nathaniel Parker Willis(7) (1806-67), the poet, who graduated at Andover in 1823, used to tell his friends of a dramatic revival, when the "unregenerate" were visited in their rooms by church members, were prayed with and urged towards public acknowledgment of conversion. Willis in his letters home so alarmed his family by his morbid state of mind that they wished to withdraw him from school. One of his relatives in discussing the incident said: --

There is a sort of indecency in this premature forcing open of the simple and healthful heart of a boy, substituting morbid self-questionings, exaggerated remorse, and the terrors of perdition for his natural brave outlook on a world of hope and enjoyment.

Josiah Quincy,(8) the younger, of the class of 1817, was accustomed to relate with much zest an anecdote illustrating the Principal's scrupulous conscience: --

One summer's day, after a session of four hours, the master dismissed the school in the usual form. No sooner had he done so than he added, "There will now be a prayer-meeting; those who wish to lie down in everlasting burning may go; the rest will stay." It is probable that a good many boys wanted to get out of doors. Two only had the audacity to rise and leave the room. One of these youngsters has since been known as an eminent Doctor of Divinity; the other was he who now relates the incident. But no sooner was the prayer-meeting over than Mr. Adams sought me out, asked pardon for the dreadful alternative he had presented, and burst into a flood of tears. He said with deep emotion that he feared I had committed the unpardonable sin, and that he had been the cause. His sincerity and faith were most touching, and his manliness in confessing his error and asking pardon from his pupil make the record of the occurrence an honor to his memory.

There can be no doubt that Adams, in this respect an extremist, overemphasized the religious element of schoolboy life. It was far from being the intention, even of the Founders, to develop Phillips Academy exclusively into a training-place for clergymen. They had insisted upon broad and sane education, both intellectual and moral. Not even the Principal's evident sincerity can justify his making conversion the goal of a boy's career.

The school had no church service of its own, but the students attended the South Parish meetinghouse. Quincy in describing the service there once said:---

The church was old and dilapidated, and the rattling of the windows and the slamming down of the seats after prayers would have shocked our more fastidious worshippers to-day. There was no means of heating the building, and in winter we muffled up our faces and tied handkerchiefs over our ears as if we were going on a sleighride. But if the surroundings were cold, the doctrines were certainly warm enough to prevent any fatal consequences.

It is not difficult to understand how Adams, actuated by motives in themselves quite laudable, could discover only evil where we nowadays can see little but harmless diversion. Quincy in his student days could remember seeing no work of the imagination except Pilgrim's Progress. To have in one's possession books of fiction or light poetry was considered to be a sin. Plays, even those of Shakspere, were condemned by the authorities. Sometimes, however, degrading literature made its way into the sacred precincts. Once a boy brought with him, to read in leisure hours, about a dozen little comedies and farces of the day. Within a week the Principal heard of it, and, in a public address to the students, said, "I understand Leavenworth has brought some very improper books here. Leavenworth, you will to-morrow do up all your books not connected with your classical studies and bring them to me." The next day Leavenworth handed a little bundle to Mr. Adams, who put it away in the clothes closet. When the last morning of the term arrived, the Principal produced the bundle before the school, saying, "You remember that I directed Leavenworth to bring me every book not connected with his classical studies. We will now see what the titles of these important volumes are." Thereupon he undid the bundle, and out dropped a copy of the Bible. "What!" said Adams, in a voice of thunder, "you should have been reading a chapter in this every morning before breakfast." Leavenworth replied with feigned simplicity, "Sir, you ordered me to bring you all books not connected with my classical studies."

Dancing was, of course, forbidden, and when a rash Frenchman proposed to start a dancing academy in the town, the Principal did his best to have him summarily ejected by the village fathers. Smoking, though the Principal indulged in it, was thought in a student to be a heinous offense. Strangely enough, in the midst of this ultra-Puritanical atmosphere, liquor was served regularly at the meetings of the Trustees until 1827, when that body, responsive to the rapidly spreading temperance movement, passed a vote to "dispense with the provision of wine or spirits for their entertainment at their meetings."

The watchful care which the Principal gave to his pupils must have won for him the approbation of parents. In one typical case we are able to observe how zealous he was to see that mothers and fathers were supplied with accurate information. On January 24, 1821, he wrote to Mrs. Phoebe Lord, Arundel, Maine, to tell her that her son Charles was seriously ill with the "canker-rash"; a letter following on the next day brought her the news of his "slight improvement"; and a third on January 27 informed her that the boy was "evidently better," and closed by giving thanks to God. The Principal was one of the most kind-hearted of men, as many of his pupils learned when they needed encouragement or had to face trouble.

From the boy's point of view school life, then as now, was made up of tears and smiles. A student like William Person, a "charity scholar," found the double labor of his position very irksome. On February 18, 1815, he wrote: --

The cold has been remarkably intense for several days, and in addition to my stated duties, such as sweeping, ringing, making fires, etc., I have undertaken to cut wood also, and prepare it for three fires, which in this inclement weather require constant attendance, and consume the fuel almost as fast as it is prepared.

On one Arctic day, --- "the coldest I ever knew," ---he managed to raise the temperature in the second Academy building from zero to 38°, but on the following morning he could reach only half that. On the next night he slept in the bleak hall in order to keep the fires going so that the room might be comfortable for the exercises the next day. When heavy storms came, many of the boys volunteered with the "theologues" to shovel out Principal Adams or Dr. Porter.

But few of the pupils had to undergo hardships such as these. Most of them had time for diversions and recreations of various kinds. The boys had their own militia company which drilled at regular intervals. On September 29, 1814, the school company marched to Boxford, had a sham battle with its regiment, and was reviewed by officers from the regular army. In 1814 also a section went by coach to Boston to work on the city fortifications; on their arrival each was presented with a shovel, and they marched through the streets to Dorchester Heights, carrying these like muskets, amid the loud cheering of the citizens. Their actual manual labor did not last long, but they returned home weary, "with their patriotism somewhat enfeebled." Dr. Ray Palmer tells the story of a trip which he, with several friends, took in 1825 to Charlestown to hear Webster's Oration at the dedication of Bunker Hill Monument. Early on June 17 they started on foot, arriving in time to march in the procession: ---

Being boys, we ventured to push ourselves in anywhere, and it was my good fortune to get among the Royal Arch Masons, right in front of Mr. Webster, about fifty feet off. I saw his eye and heard his utterances, and remember now just as well as though I heard them yesterday, the tones of his voice, --- he was then about fifty years old, in the perfection of manhood.

When lessons were over, the boys had before them all the beautiful Andover countryside. Although the games were primitive, there was plenty of chance for exercise in the pond near which "Pomp"(9) still had his cabin, or in walking through the woods to the gloomy "Land of Nod." Prospect Hill, from which on a clear afternoon the ocean could be seen fifteen miles away, was the goal of many a picnic party. It was the memory of such happy hours that led Holmes in 1878 to make the queries: --

Still in the waters of the dark Shawshine
Do the young bathers splash and think they're clean?
Do pilgrims find their way to Indian Ridge,
Or journey onward to the far-off bridge,
And bring to younger ears the story back
Of the broad stream, the mighty Merrimack?

It is time, perhaps, to return to the Principal himself. His household was usually a large one: his wife, ten children, and a small group of pupils, five or six in all, who boarded with them. Both Josiah Quincy, Jr., and Samuel Phillips lived with Adams, and the latter reported, "Good, wholesome, cleanly fare we had, and an abundance of it." Of Adams's daughters, four --- Mary, Harriet, Abby, and Elizabeth --- gratified their parents by marrying ministers; and two of his sons, John Ripley Adams and William Adams, became clergymen, the latter being President of Union Theological Seminary. With his children about him in Andover the Principal had a busy family life. When school hours were over, he used to drive in his old-fashioned chaise, with Fido, his brown and white dog, running under the carriage, to a farm which he had purchased near Sunset Rock, where he kept in touch with nature and found necessary relaxation. Mrs. Adams, who was a model housekeeper, never seemed burdened with her labors, and was also an efficient nurse, who spent many hours in giving aid to her sick neighbors. "She went about doing good," said Professor Moses Stuart. Her lovely flower garden was the finest in all the country round, and all her friends were remembered with choice blossoms.

Only a few months before her favorite son, William, was to graduate from Andover Theological Seminary, Mrs. Adams, who had long been suffering from illness, died, on February 23, 1829. The weather was so severe that no women attended the funeral; but Academy and Seminary students, all of whom had loved her, braved the storm in order to march to the churchyard. A tombstone given by the boys of Phillips Academy was placed over her grave. Mrs. Sarah Stuart Robbins, daughter of Professor Stuart, wrote of her: --

Mrs. Adams comes back to me as the type of a perfect and rounded motherhood. I remember her as a large woman with a full, frank face and light hair, through which ran soft threads of gray. A child friend on one knee and I on the other, her broad lap seemed to us the most cheerful resting-place in all the world .... I can never remember that she told us we were sinners or prayed with us; but she gave us big, red apples, the biggest and reddest that ever grew out of Eden, and she would tell us, as she watched us greedily devour them, how much nicer it was to be good and have such nice things than to be naughty and for that be shut up in some dark closet.

A little more than two years later the Trustees gave the Principal a vacation of four weeks, in the course of which he went to Troy, New York, where, on August 30, 1831, he married Mrs. Mabel Burritt. During his absence prayers were offered in the Seminary Chapel for his safety on his long and perilous journey. This second marriage was actuated, it appears, mainly by Adams's desire to provide his children with a mother's influence in his home.

Unfortunately the Principal's wedding was to be followed by the bitterest disappointment of his career. The height of his success in Phillips Academy was probably about 1825, when the attendance was the largest since the opening in 1778. Even then, however, a change was foreshadowed. Younger men of a new era were moulding the policy of the Trustees, and Adams, with his conservative nature, found himself out of accord with their views. His teaching power, too, seems to have waned. One alumnus said in 1878: --

I think Mr. Adams, when I was a member of the school in 1825, was looked upon as somewhat antiquated in his ideas and methods of teaching. I have a vague impression that he was not thought to be quite progressive enough to content the Trustees and patrons of the school.

After 1825, when the numbers began to fall off, the subdued criticism made itself heard. It did not take the Principal long to ascertain the state of affairs, as a passage in a letter to his son William, October 1, 1832, indicates: --

You are mistaken in supposing that I wish to continue in the Academy. The fact is I cannot continue. I must resign my office as Principal, not because I think myself too aged, but because it is expedient. If the Trustees, or any of their number, feel that the best interest of the Academy will be promoted by the introduction of a younger man, how can I make up my mind to remain?

On November 22, Adams, at a meeting of the Board in Boston, read a formal letter of resignation, in which he reviewed his career at Andover, pointing out with due modesty his achievements and presenting unimpeachable statistics regarding the general growth and development of the school while under his charge.

The Trustees accepted his withdrawal, and voted him eight hundred dollars and the occupancy of his house for a year, "as an additional compensation." They passed also the following resolution: --

That this board entertain a high sense of the value of the services of Mr. Adams during his connection with them as Principal of Phillips Academy, and assure him of their affectionate confidence and their deep interest in his future usefulness and happiness.

The kindly phrases of this vote only lightly veil the painful fact that he was compelled to leave his position, because he was thought to be superannuated. Consciousness of this fact brought him many dejected hours.

We may well pass briefly over the remaining years of his life --- sad years, during which he struggled bravely against heavy odds. After selling his furniture and securing letters of recommendation from his friends, Professors Woods and Stuart, he left Andover in the spring of 1833, and filled for a short time a place as Principal of an academy in Elbridge, New York; then, like many a stout-hearted pioneer, he moved westward, first to Ohio and then to Jerseyville, Illinois, enduring many privations. In 1837 he took charge of a female seminary at Jacksonville, Illinois, and developed there a highly prosperous school. In 1842 he was appointed agent of the American Sunday-School Union in Illinois; and for the next twelve years "Father Adams," as he was called by the country people, drove from county to county in a buggy, organizing in all three hundred and twenty-two Sunday-Schools and earning nobly his pittance of four hundred dollars a year. Once he met an old pupil, Josiah Quincy, who accompanied him to the railroad station, saying as he did so to the ticket agent: "You should let this gentleman ride free; the country owes him interest money." We think of him in the lines of Wordsworth: --

Preaching, administering, in every work
Of his sublime vocation, in the walks
Of worldly intercourse between man and man,
And in his humble dwelling, he appears
A laborer, with moral virtue girt,
With spiritual graces, like a glory, crowned.

In the year 1854, when he had reached the age of eighty, Yale honored him with the degree of Doctor of Laws. On April 24, 1863, in his ninety-second year, he died, over three decades after he had been forced to resign, on account of old age, from his place in Andover.

In his prime Adams must have been an imposing figure. One writer gives us a glimpse of him as, in the South Church, "with the prestige of one born to command, he stepped up the broad aisle, his great ivory-headed cane coming in before him and ringing down with an emphasis not to be mistaken." One Seminary student, afterwards a Professor of Divinity, admitted that he never saw that familiar form, clad in gray and wearing a broad-brimmed hat, without standing a little straighter and putting on an air of professional gravity. Even in his old age Adams still retained his stately bearing.

As we survey Adams's administration as a whole, we can see clearly that the school made distinct progress, that it grew under his direction to be far more efficient, far more influential, than it had ever been before. If in the end he met with apparent failure, losing his grip, so to speak, on matters around him, it was because he could not bow to new men and new methods and yet was not strong enough to resist them. We shall do well, in making our final estimate, to pay heed to his many decided virtues and to pass lightly over the last years of his régime. "Dr. Adams," said the Reverend William E. Park, "imparted an impulse which will never die to the institution into which he came as a moral force."

 

CHAPTER X

ZION'S HILL, AND ITS MEN AND WOMEN

Severely plain and utterly quiet Andover was, but it was not stagnant. The tides of intellectual life ran strong and high. The sense of being above and aloof resulted there in a feeling of proud responsibility and zeal for serious work. Professors and students alike felt themselves anointed kings and priests, with a momentous task to perform for the world.

ANDOVER in 1810 was a remote and isolated village. To it the mail-carrier came but thrice a week, and the letters which he bore cost twenty-five cents apiece. The inhabitants seldom saw a newspaper, except when one was brought from Boston. Where the busy city of Lawrence now stands, packed with mills and warehouses, there was only a small settlement. The peaceful Puritan Sabbath was nowhere more strictly observed than on Andover Hill. Travelers on the Lord's Day, no matter how urgent their business, were likely to be summarily arrested and fined. Sunday really began on Saturday at sunset, when all secular work was put away; on Sunday morning came an oppressive silence, broken rarely by the chime of church bells. After the morning service followed a cold dinner and reading from some pious manual, like the Shorter Catechism. When the sun disappeared on Sunday evening, play began for the children and the long day of restraint was over.

The growth of Andover Theological Seminary --that "citadel of old-fashioned orthodoxy" --- gave Andover more importance, and its new buildings soon transformed the Hill. On September 22, 1818, a great throng of people gathered to hear Dr. Ebenezer Porter's sermon dedicating Bartlet Chapel, now Pearson Hall. This structure, described by a contemporary as "vieing in elegance with any in the United States," was built by William Bartlet, at a cost of $23,374. It soon became the center of Hill life. The chapel room to the right on the first story was used for literary societies, prayer-meetings, elocutionary drill, public lectures, and Commencement exercises. On the platform in this room Mr. Bartlet sat when the artist, without his knowledge, made a sketch of him for the portrait which he had refused to have painted. Here the walls echoed on week-days with the voices of "theologues" practicing their sermons. On the floor above was the library, gradually growing larger. At the north end of each of the three floors was a lecture room for the professors of divinity.

Three years later Mr. Bartlet contributed $19,574 for Bartlet Hall, a dormitory to the south of Bartlet Chapel. In the dedicatory sermon, preached September 13, 1821, Professor Stuart said: --

We can look back to little more than a period of ten years, when the whole ground on which we are assembled, and most of the vicinity, was but an uncultivated wild. Now we are furnished, in a most ample fashion, with all the edifices that are essential to the great object of the Seminary.

ANDOVER THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY AND ELM ARCH IN 1825

BARTLET CHAPEL, NOW PEARSON HALL

The three central buildings of Andover Theological Seminary were then complete, standing just as they do to-day. Elizabeth Stuart Phelps's description of them is worth quoting: --

All of brick, red, rectangular, and unrelieved; as barren of ornament and broken lines as a packing box, and yet curiously possessed of a certain dignity of their own; such as we see in aged country folk unfashionably dressed but sure of their local position.

A footpath led from the turnpike through the stone wall across a bush pasture to Phillips Hall, and a road was shortly built from Salem Street behind the "row."

On other adjacent streets carpenters and masons were at work. The so-called "Samaritan House" on Chapel Avenue (now the residence of the Principal) was constructed in 1824 as an infirmary for "theologues." Farther to the east in 1828 a "stone shell of a building" was put up at a cost of $2891.12, in which the divinity students found a passable substitute for football in the mildly stimulating exercise of making coffins. This gruesome pastime was later abolished, and the structure became the residence of Professor Calvin E. Stowe and his wife, Harriet Beecher Stowe, for whose occupancy it was completely renovated. The Double Brick House on Main Street was begun in 1829 as a "Commons" for Academy students, and was finished at a cost of $8795.83. The Phillips Mansion after the death of Madame Phillips came into the hands of the Trustees, and was used for a time as a boarding-house. About 1817 it was refurnished as a tavern, where, for many years, the stage, on its way to Boston, drew up with a mighty flourish of trumpets. Here the passengers on frosty mornings, recognizing "Brimstone Hill," the home of the Calvinistic tenets of sulphur and "everlasting bonfire," used jokingly to hold out their hands for warmth. So prosperous was the Seminary that the Trustees, in 1814, were authorized by the General Court to hold property up to an annual income of $20,000. The resources of Phillips Academy, however, still remained small.

Meanwhile many of the old familiar faces were disappearing. In 1809 the Reverend Jonathan French, Clerk of the Trustees since 1778, died, and was succeeded as Trustee by Dr. Abiel Holmes(1) (1763-1837), father of Oliver Wendell Holmes. Two years later Samuel Hall Walley(2) (1778-1850), a prominent Boston merchant, was added to the Board. After the unfortunate death of Colonel John Phillips, of North Andover, in 1820, Jonathan Phillips(3) (1778-1860), a son of His Honor William Phillips, made another member of the Phillips family among the Trustees. In the same year the Reverend Justin Edwards(4) (1787-1853), the successor of Mr. French as pastor of the South Church, was chosen a member. When Dr. Pearson resigned the Presidency in 1821, his place was filled by His Honor William Phillips; thus for the last time a Phillips was President of the Trustees. At the latter's death in 1827 the Honorable Samuel Hubbard(5) (1785-1847), who had been made a Trustee in 183, was elected President, and retained the position until his resignation in 1843. A graduate of Yale in 1802, Judge Hubbard represented the new era during which the influence of Harvard was to be less significant in Academy affairs. Of the five other Trustees elected under Adams, only one, Dr. John H. Church (1772-1840), was a Harvard man. Of the remaining four, the Reverend Benjamin B. Wisner (1794-1835), pastor of the Old South in Boston, was a graduate of Union; the Honorable William B. Banister (1773-1853), son-in-law of William Bartlet, was an alumnus of Dartmouth; Jeremiah Evarts (1781-1831), editor of the Panoplist, held a diploma from Yale; and Samuel T. Armstrong (1784-1850), Mayor of Boston and Lieutenant-Governor, was not a college graduate.

Dr. Pearson, who had moved in 18921 to Harvard, Massachusetts, continued to serve on the Board until his death. He still appeared occasionally in Andover, where the boys, with little respect for gray hairs, remembered him as an awe-inspiring, somewhat crotchety patriarch, whom they, for no definite reason, called "Old Shad." Dr. Ray Palmer has described Pearson's last visit to the Hill: --

I recall that one day at the session of the school there came in a venerable man, trembling with years; he looked ninety years old; he walked into the room with Mr. Adams, and was announced as the former President Pearson, who had years before that ceased, on account of the infirmities of age, to attend the examinations, where he was always the terror of the young men, for he was exceedingly severe in his questions. He came in to look around, and remind us of a former generation.

He never again returned to the institution which he had done so much to create. In the summer of 1826 he managed to take the journey to the home of his daughter, Mrs. Ephraim Abbot, at Greenland, New Hampshire, where, after a painful illness, he died, September 12 in that year. He was buried in the Greenland cemetery, and his tomb was enclosed by an iron paling, on which was fastened a copper plate with a commendatory inscription in Latin. Until recently the grave of the man whom Dr. Waldo called "the Longinus who made Boston the Athens of New England" was absolutely neglected, and thick grass and trees had almost obscured the spot. Recently, however, the Trustees have appropriated money for its care, and the burial-place will not be forgotten.

In his last days Dr. Pearson had become overbearing and tyrannical, so that he often exhausted the patience of his colleagues. A letter from Josiah Quincy, the elder, to his wife, September 8, 1826, is, on this matter, full of enlightenment: --

I passed yesterday at Andover, the evening at the Board of Trustees (it was their first meeting after the death of Dr. Pearson); all our business went smoothly. Dr. Pearson was coldly remembered; those who fill the places he created feel little gratitude toward him. I cannot blame them, considering all the trouble and vexation his papal humor caused to the occupants of those chairs. Yet I could not but feel, when I saw all his hopes of fame blasted, on the very spot where they had been cultivated. Every line of the Constitution of the Theological Seminary, every statute, breathed the spirit of Dr. Pearson; yet that spirit was gone, and his name and memory regarded with neither respect nor affection on the very place where he had spent the best of his days, and in an institution where he had bestowed the most earnest of his labors. The passions to which his overbearing nature gave birth will subside, and future times will do more justice to his memory than the present are disposed to yield. I could write a character not unfriendly of my old master, although on many accounts I have little reason. But he was no ordinary man, and I cannot refrain from remembering him with much respect and some affection.

It is pleasanter to think of Pearson as, in the prime of his manhood, he appeared to little William Adams, son of the Principal: --

There was something so grand and massive about him that it was easy and pardonable in a child to associate his name, Eliphalet, with the English word "elephant," rather than with its Hebrew etymology, as yet to him unknown. How deep and judicial were his tones as he addressed us in sonorous Latin on examination days; how his nostrils expanded like those of the war horse as he led the hymn to the tune of Old Hundred.

On May 26, 1827, another venerable personage, His Honor William Phillips, died in his seventy-eighth year. From 1812 to 1827 he gave $500 annually for the support of needy students in Phillips Academy; he contributed $5000 towards the Brick Academy; and in his will he bequeathed $15,000 to the Academy and $10,000 to the Seminary. It was said by Dr. Wisner at his funeral that Mr. Phillips had, for a series of years, spent for charitable purposes from $8000 to $11,000 a year; and through bequests he aided various institutions to the extent of $62,000. Towards the close of his life he kindly furnished Phillips Academy with portraits of its chief benefactors: Esquire Phillips, Dr. John Phillips, the Honorable William Phillips, and Judge Samuel Phillips.

The most interesting, as well as the most unusual personage on Andover Hill at this time was unquestionably the famous Samuel Farrar. Born December 13, 1773, in Lincoln, the son of a well-to-do farmer, he graduated from Harvard in 1797, and settled in Andover, first as a teacher in Phillips Academy, and later as a lawyer. At this time he was a victim of dyspepsia, and Madame Phillips, characteristically sympathetic, invited him to live with her at the Mansion House. There the Phillips family learned to admire his methodical habits and his cautious and exact method of doing business; through their influence he was elected in 1802 as a Trustee, and a year later was made Treasurer of the Board. He served as Treasurer until 1840, and as Trustee until 1846. He was the first President of the Andover Bank, holding the office from 1826 to 1856, and he was a Trustee of Abbot Academy from its foundation in 1828 until 1851. He married on October 30, 1814, Mrs. Phoebe Hooker, widow of the Reverend Asahel Hooker. He died May 13, 1864, at the ripe old age of ninety-one.

'Squire Farrar, as he was called by everybody, was especially conspicuous because of the regularity of his habits. It is said that he allowed his family clock to run down only three times in forty years. Until long after middle life he sawed wood every morning before breakfast for exactly half an hour, and then held family prayers at precisely seven minutes after six. At the table he invariably asked grace in a standing posture, resting on the back of the chair, with one hand spread. On every fair day he took three walks, passing over a certain route on each, and so punctually that people at his approach were accustomed to verify their watches. There still remain in his own handwriting plans of these trips, which were carefully surveyed to the fraction of a rod. He carried always a gold-headed cane, the ferule of which was never permitted to touch the ground.

Because of these methodical habits 'Squire Farrar was an efficient, though also an autocratic, Treasurer, and much of the extraordinary material development of the Academy and the Seminary during the first decades of the century was conducted under his direction. Many of the buildings --- not the most beautiful, it must be confessed --- were designed by him; he set out most of the trees now standing on Andover Hill, including the shady Elm Arch through the Campus; and he shrewdly managed the real estate so that it brought in no inconsiderable revenue. He lent out the funds on bond and mortgage, so discreetly that not a single dollar was ever lost through poor judgment. Although he was by no means a rich man, he could always be relied upon to put his hands to his purse when funds were needed; and he left to Phillips Academy in his will the sum of $12,000. His interesting character has been commemorated by Holmes: --

Where is the patriarch time could hardly tire --
The good old, wrinkled, immemorial 'squire?
An honest treasurer, like a black-plumed swan,
Not every day our eyes may look upon.

The twenty-two years which John Adams spent in Andover constitute a period of great beginnings. The American Board of Foreign Missions, formed in 1810, had commenced its work, and men like Adoniram Judson and Samuel Nott had gone forth into the "heathen world," encouraged by the prayers of students and teachers. When the first missionaries were ordained at Salem, February 6, 1812, the Principal allowed a few boys to go. William Goodell, afterwards a missionary in Turkey for forty-three years, and his friend, Asa Cummings, later editor of the Christian Mirror, walked there and back, thirty-four miles in all, in one day, with little refreshment.(6) Goodell was so exhausted that, when about a mile from home, he lost control of his muscles, and was helped by companions to his room, where he was "almost paralyzed by exposure, excitement, and excessive fatigue."

After Dr. Ebenezer Porter(7) (1772-1834) came to Andover in 1812 as Bartlet Professor of Sacred Rhetoric, his study, in what is known as the "President's House," became a center of New England Calvinism. There on Monday evenings John Adams met with a group of earnest men: Professor Leonard Woods, Professor Stuart, Dr. Justin Edwards, Deacon Mark Newman, 'Squire Farrar, and now and then a resident Trustee or some distinguished visitor who wished to join in the weekly discussion. Around the fireside these gentlemen, scorning "miserable aims that end with self," conceived and executed schemes many of which are in operation still. In 1815 they originated the American Education Society, of which Dr. Pearson was the first Chairman; they protested against Sabbath-breaking; in order to give publicity to their opinions, they started the Boston Recorder, the first religious newspaper in America; they founded the American Tract Society, in the support of which Dr. Woods and Principal Adams went to cities in the vicinity in order to collect money. Regular Concerts of Prayer for Colleges were first held in this room. Here in 1827, largely through the initiative of Dr. Edwards, the American Temperance Society(8) was organized, "founded on the pledge of entire abstinence from intoxicating liquors." No wonder that Professor Austin Phelps, writing a generation later at a desk in that very library, said, "A great cloud of witnesses come in at my window to tell me of what Andover was in the olden time."

The little group has been called a body distinguished by "consecrated common sense." A few of them, like Edwards and Stuart, were inclined to be radical and aggressive; others, like Woods and Newman, were born conservatives; but their arguments never flared up into quarrels, and their diverse temperaments, through compromise and concession, were welded into one in the cause of humanity. Principal Adams was valued by them chiefly because of his sane and sober counsel. One of the members once said, "He seemed to know by instinct what would be the best way of doing the right thing."

Andover's claim to intellectual leadership was perceptibly strengthened by the establishment of the printing-office of Flagg and Gould, which superseded an earlier press started in 1799. It opened in the upper story of the angular and ugly building erected by Deacon Newman for his store, where the "theological boys and girls" used to buy sweet-flag and slippery elm. There Professor Stuart himself set the type for his Hebrew Grammar, until he could train his own compositor to do the work. On December 12, 1813, Professor Stuart sent to Dr. Pearson the proof of this book, the first volume with Hebrew type ever printed in this country. In 1821 Dr. John Codman gave one thousand dollars for the purchase of type to be used in printing the Oriental tongues, and this gift was later increased by William Bartlet and others. By 1829 this press was supplied with type, not only for Hebrew, but also for eleven other Oriental languages. Here were published a large number of books by Andover men and women, including Robinson's New Testament Lexicon, Porter's Rhetorical Reader, and Stuart's Letters to Channing. Eventually over a hundred separate titles, the work of professors in the Seminary, were printed on the Hill. In 1832 a new brick building, north of the Stuart House on Main Street, was constructed especially for the press, and its scope was considerably enlarged.

Among the other important movements of this renaissance period the founding of the Abbot Female Seminary, now Abbot Academy, was not the least significant. This well-known school, the first incorporated institution in the Commonwealth for the education of girls, was made possible chiefly through the generosity of Mrs. Nehemiah Abbot,(9) for whom it was named. About 1827 this lady, in consultation with 'Squire Farrar, said unexpectedly, "What shall I do with my surplus funds?" He answered, "Found an Academy in Andover for the education of women." Following his suggestion she promptly pledged the sum of one thousand dollars, which was advanced by 'Squire Farrar. Early in 1828 meetings were held and plans laid for the project, and the Constitution was signed on July 4 by seven Trustees, among them Farrar and Deacon Newman. The latter gave a lot of land on School Street; there the roof of the building was raised on October 28, and the school was actually opened May 6, 1829, under Mr. Charles Goddard as Principal. At Mrs. Abbot's death in 1848 the Abbot Academy Trustees received from her estate the sum of $10,109.05. The relations between Abbot Academy and Phillips Academy have uniformly been amicable, and on several occasions, notably at the time of anniversaries, the friendly interest of each in the other has been shown in substantial fashion.

One important event of Adams's administration was the visit of General Lafayette, who, an old man, was making in 1825 a tour through the land the freedom of which he had fought to establish. As he and his carriage companion, Josiah Quincy, approached Andover, the Frenchman asked Quincy to tell him something of the town. Keeping in mind the information which was proffered him, the General, when he was urged by the Andoverians to address them, spoke in highly complimentary terms of "that consecrated hill from which light had gone out to the heathen and religion to the ends of the earth." When Quincy returned to Andover, after escorting Lafayette to the New Hampshire line, he called upon Principal Adams, who expressed delight at the General's speech, but added: --

I was surprised at one thing: I knew in our religious world our school held a very high position, but I was unprepared to find that a man who had spent his days in courts and camps, who had been through the whole French Revolution, should have known so much about our Theological Institution.

SAMUEL F. B. MORSE,
OF THE CLASS OF 1805

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES,
OF THE CLASS OF 1825

In this period, remarkable for the general spirit of intellectual and philanthropic activity prevalent on Andover Hill, Phillips Academy had many students who grew to be distinguished men. Probably the most famous was Oliver Wendell Holmes (1809-94), who graduated in 1825. In his Cinders from the Ashes (1869) he describes humorously the journey by carriage from Boston to Andover, and the sad sensations which he felt when, deserted by his parents, he was left at Professor Murdock's house, --- now the Treasurer's residence, --- where he was to board: --

Sea-sickness and home-sickness are hard to deal with by any remedy but time. Mine was not a bad case, but it excited sympathy. There was an ancient, faded lady in the house, very kindly, but very deaf, rustling about in the dark, autumnal foliage of silk or other murmurous fabrics, somewhat given to snuff, but a very worthy gentlewoman of the poor-relation variety. She comforted me, I well remember, but not with apples, and stayed me, but not with flagons. She went in her benevolence, and, taking a blue and white soda-powder, mingled the same in water, and encouraged me to drink the result. It might be a specific for sea-sickness, but it was not for home-sickness. The fiz was a mockery, and the saline refrigerant struck a colder chill to my despondent heart. I did not disgrace myself, however, and a few days cured me, as a week on the water often cures sea-sickness.

Although Holmes's experiences were not all of this discouraging kind, he did not have an altogether agreeable time in the classroom: --

I was put into a seat with an older and much bigger boy, or youth, with a fuliginous complexion, dilating and whitening nostril, and a singular malignant scowl. Many years afterwards he committed an act of murderous violence, and ended by going to finish his days in a madhouse. His delight was to kick my shins with all his might, under the desk, not at all as an act of hostility, but as a gratifying and harmless pastime. Finding this, so far as I was concerned, equally devoid of pleasure and profit, I managed to get a seat by another boy, the son of a very distinguished divine. He was bright enough, and more select in his choice of recreations, at least during school hours, than my late homicidal neighbor. But the principal called me up presently, and cautioned me against him as a dangerous companion. Could it be so? ... Here was I, in the very dove's nest of Puritan faith, and out of one of its eggs a serpent had been hatched and was trying to nestle in my bosom! I parted from him, however, none the worse for his companionship so far as I can remember.

One of Holmes's most exciting diversions was watching one of the instructors, who had been warned by a dream that he would drop dead while praying, to see whether, when he led morning devotions, this grim prophecy would come true. The future poet's only literary performance at Andover was a translation from Virgil, with one "cockney rhyme": --

Thus by the power of Jove's imperial arm
The boiling ocean trembled into calm.

At the annual Exhibition of 1825, however, he delivered an essay on Fancy, which he described as highly inflated in style.

Among the other graduates who attained fame were at least three future college presidents: Henry Durant (1802-75), the first President of the University of California; William Augustus Stearns (1805-76), President of Amherst College; and Leonard Woods, Jr. (1807-78), for twenty-seven years President of Bowdoin. Samuel Williston (1795-1874), who gave over $800,000 to endow Williston Seminary, and Luther Wright (1797-1870), its first Principal, were both Andover men. Nathaniel P. Willis belonged to the class of 1823; in the class before him was Isaac McLellan (1806-1904), lawyer, editor, and versifier, the author of the once widely quoted Death of Napoleon, --

Wild was the night; yet a wilder night
Hung o'er the soldier's pillow.

Horatio Greenough (1805-52), the "pioneer of American sculpture" and the architect of Bunker Hill Monument, left the school in 1815. There were also two anti-slavery agitators: Theodore Weld (1804-88), author of American Slavery as It Is; and Edmund Quincy(10) (1808-77). Among the clergymen and theologians were Mark Antony De Wolfe Howe (1808-89), Bishop of Central Pennsylvania; Thomas March Clark (1813-90), Bishop of Rhode Island; Dr. Horatio Baich Hackett; and Dr. Ray Palmer. Others also should be mentioned: George P. Marsh (1800-82), an American diplomat in Greece, Turkey, and Italy, and a distinguished scholar and author; Robert Rantoul (1807-52), Congressman and United States Senator; William Wheelwright (1799-1873), a pioneer business man in South America, who, after a romantic career, gave over $500,000 to the city of Newburyport, as a fund for providing boys with a scientific education; William Warner Hoppin (1808-90), Governor of Rhode Island; Wilson Flagg (1806-84), the naturalist and essayist; and Samuel Hopkins (1807-78), the historian. In no other period of equal length in the school history have there been proportionately so many pupils who later attained distinction.

At least sixty-five instructors were engaged at Phillips Academy during the twenty-two years of Adams's régime. A large proportion of them were, of course, theological students, who conducted a few courses in order to earn a moderate stipend. Among them were Gideon Lane Soule (1796-1879), afterwards associated with the Phillips Exeter Academy as Instructor and Principal; Miron Winslow (17891864), missionary for forty-six years in India; and John Taylor Jones (1802-51), missionary in Burmah and Siam, and translator of the Bible into Siamese.

So it was that Andover, between 1810 and 1830, became a "thought center," with influences radiating in many directions. Its vigorous intellectual life, quickened from time to time by the arrival of new professors, was a stimulus and inspiration to all those who studied there. The provinciality, intolerance, and inertness so characteristic of many New England towns were to be found only in rare cases on the Hill. The town itself was becoming famous. The Codman Press was sending books and tracts to far-off pagan countries. Phillips Academy and Andover Theological Seminary, through their teachers and sons, were spreading their spirit beyond Massachusetts over the life of the nation.


Chapter Eleven

Table of Contents