REPO RT
TO THE
CORPORATION OF BROWN UNIVERSITY,
ON
CHANGES IN THE SYSTEM
OF
COLLEGIATE EDUCATION
Read March 28, 1850.
PROVIDENCE:
GEORGE H. WHITNEY.
1850.




BOSTON:
THURSTON, TORRY, AND COMPANY,
PRINTERS, DEVONSHIRE STREET.




AT a meeting of the Corporation of Brown University, held
December 18, 1849, the consideration of some changes in the
system of education in the University, was referred to a Committee consisting of the following gentlemen; to wit.
THE PRESIDENT,                SAMUEL BOYD TOBEY, M. D.
ROBERT E. PATTISON, D. D.  WILLIAM HAGUE, D. D.
BARNAS SEARS, D. D.           NATHAN BISHOP, ESQ.
ZACHARIAH ALLEN, ESQ.         ALVA WOODS, D. D.
RUFUS BABCOCK, D. D.          JOHN KINGSBURY, ESQ.
SAMUEL GREENE ARNOLD, EsQ.
AT an adjourned meeting, held March 28, 1850, the Report of
the Committee was read, and it was Ordered, that the Report be
published, and that final action be taken on the same at an adjourned meeting to be held on Tuesday, May 7, 1850.
N. B. CROCKER,
Secretary of the Corporation.








R E P     O  T.
THE Committee to whom was referred the subject of
the proposed alterations in the course of studies in
Brown University, have attended to that duty, and
submit to the corporation the following Report.
The Committee considered themselves bound to
inquire into the present condition of the University,
and to suggest such measures, as, in their judgment,
would tend most directly to increase the usefulness of
the Institution.
The present condition of the University cannot be
well understood, without considering its relation to
collegiate education in this country; nor can the
present condition of collegiate education in this country be understood, without referring to its past history,
and its relation to University Education in Great
Britain, from  which it originated.  The  subjects,
therefore, to which the attention of the corporation
will be directed in the present report, are the following:
The System of University Education in Great Britaill.




6
The progress and present state of University Education in this country.
The present condition of this University.
The measures which the Committee recommend for
the purpose of enlarging the usefulness of the Institution.
The subject of Collegiate Degrees.
The system of University Education in Great Britain.
The collegiate institutions in New  England, of
which all but one of those in the other states are
copies, were established by graduates of the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge in England.  We were
then in a state of colonial dependence, and it was natural that our forefathers should desire to reproduce
here, as far as it was in their power, literary seminaries, similar to those which they had long venerated
at home. This they accomplished in several important respects.
The Universities of Oxford and Cambridge were, as
it is well known, established mainly, if not exclusively,
for the benefit of the clergy. They were ecclesiastical and monastic institutions. The course of study
which they prescribed, was designed for the education
of priests, who formed, in fact, the only educated
class in the middle ages; and who probably intended,
by means of an exclusive education, to render perpetual the influence over the masses which they had so
successfully usurped. This design of these Universities is distinctly asserted in an elaborate paper written
in defence of their present position, in the following
words:- "The foundation of colleges, though almost




always containing provision for the education of youth,
was primarily designed for far other objects.  They
were for studious men to retire to, to devote themselves, in leisure and freedom from the cares of daily
subsistence, to  meditation  and the study of the arts
and  sciences in  general;  always, however, as the
handmaids of the  architectonic science of  theology,
to  which  they  were bound  both professionally  and
academically."   Again:  "It is true that the education of young men  is one of its objects; but it is
distinctly NOT the primary one, - that is, ad studendum et orandum; to encourage the systematic study
of the arts, first by way of preparation, and then of
divinity, by persons enabled by the munificence of the
founders, to consecrate their time to deep reading." *
Such being the nature of an English university,t it
may well be supposed that its organization is adapted
to answer its end.  As at present constituted, however, Oxford  and Cambridge are not universities, in
the sense in which this word is used on the continent
of Europe.  They  are a collection  of colleges, all
teaching the same branches of study, while the university, as it formerly existed, teaches nothing, or
until lately, nothing that was required of the candidate for a degree.  Each  college carries on its own
* Quarterly Review, July, 1840.
t It has been conclusively shown by Sir W. Hamilton, that the colleges
have usurped all the power of the universities, and radically changed the
character of these institutions. This, however, will not affect the course
of our argument. We speak of the facts as they have existed for centuries, and of the doctrines on this subject, held for ages by the established
church.




8
tuition by means of tutors, holding their offices generally but for a few years, as is the case in this country; and at stated times, each presents its candidates
for degrees to the general meeting of the members of
the university. If the power of conferring degrees
were bestowed on all the colleges, the university
would be merely a name; it would do nothing, for it
would have nothing to do.*
Our ancestors, of course, would never have thought
of establishing, in the infancy of our country, a congeries of colleges such as form  the University of
Oxford or Cambridge.  They took a single college for
their model. Let us then briefly consider the nature
of a single college in one of these splendid establishments.
A college in one of the English universities, is a
foundation composed of a master, tutors, fellows, and
students. The fellows are generally resident graduates, supported by the foundation. The master has
the government of the whole society. The teaching,
as we have said, is done by the tutors.  The course
of study embraced originally a term of four years,
though now, we believe, that three years is the usual
period of residence for an undergraduate. At Cambridge, almost the whole of this time is devoted to
the study of the mathematics.  At Oxford, it has
been almost as exclusively devoted to the study of the
Greek and Latin classics.
* Changes of an important character have been commenced within a year
or two, in both Oxford and Cambridge. We here refer to the condition of
these institutions as it existed until very lately.




9
Each college forms a distinct society, of which one
object, at least, was the education of youth, over whom
it exercised a vigilant and universal superintendence.
Hence all the arrangements of the college were made
to conform  to this idea.  The whole society was
intended to form  but one family; master, fellows,
tutors and students, all sitting at the same table. A
college building is always a quadrangle, open in the
centre, and admitting of but one entrance. The gate
is closed at a certain hour, after which no one can
either enter or go out. Within this quadrangle, every
officer and student resides; and, of course, the intercourse between them must be frequent, and the means
of supervision as perfect as the nature of the case
could require. If a system of this kind were to be
adopted, we do not perceive in what manner the
present organization of a college in an English university could be improved.
Such is the model from which all our colleges in
this country are copied. We, however, varied in many
respects from the original idea, and it must be admitted that our changes were generally for the worse.
We adopted the unchangeable period of four years,
and confined the course of education almost exclusively to Greek, Latin, and Mathematics; adding, perhaps, a little more theology and natural philosophy.
We required residence in a college edifice, and thus
assumed the whole superintendence of students; but
our buildings were constructed with no reference to
this object. Our officers were at first like theirs, a
President and Tutors, but the President did not live
in college, nor, when professors were subsequently ap



10
pointed, was provision made for their residence.  We
gave to the college the power of conferring all degrees
in the several faculties, which was in England reserved
to the University.  Hence, in this country, a college
and a university mean the same thing; in England
their meaning is very dissimilar. The result of our
departures from the original idea has been in every
respect unfortunate.  In the first place, we assume
the responsibility of a superintendence which we have
rendered ourselves incapable of fulfilling; and we have
lost the humanizing effect produced by the daily association of students with older and well bred gentlemen, so obvious in an English college; and, in the
second place, we have expended almost all the funds
appropriated to education in the construction of unsightly buildings, we had almost said barracks, for
which, perhaps, the highest merit that can be claimed
is, that they are not positively and universally a nuisance. Passing, however, from these topics, we proceed
to consider the course of study pursued -in our colleges, the subject with which this report is principally
concerned.  The time allotted to a collegiate course
was as in England fixed to four years.  The studies
pursued were Latin, Greek, Mathematics, Natural
Philosophy, and Locke on the Understanding, while
some attention was generally given to theology and
the Hebrew language.  These latter studies were the
more important, inasmuch as a large portion of the
students were designed for the ministry, and theological schools had not yet been established.
Such was the nature of a college in this country,
until the Revolution, and for many years afterward.




The number of studies was limited, and the same time
was allowed to the pursuit of them as in the English
Universities. We think it may be safely affirmed,
that they were eminently successful.  Wye do not
know of any British colony at the present day, which
has any thing to compare with them. At these colleges were educated some of the profoundest theologians
that any age has produced. They nurtured the men
who, as jurists and statesmen and diplomatists, in the
intellectual struggle that preceded the Revolution,
shrunk not from doing battle with the ablest men of
the mother country, and won for themselves, in the
contest, the splendid eulogy of Lord Chatham, the
noblest of them all; the same men who, when the
Revolution was accomplished, framed for us, their successors, the Constitution of the United States, perhaps
the most important document that the eighteenth century produced. We certainly have then no reason to
be ashamed of the colleges founded in our early history.
It ought not here to escape remark, that these colleges were almost wholly without endowment. They
were nearly self-supporting institutions. The course
of study was limited, and time was allowed for deliberate investigation of each science. The mind of the
student was suffered to invigorate itself by reflection
and reading, and hence, with far less perfect means
than we now possess, it seems to have attained a
more manly development.
The course of study was, as we have said, limited
to the branches of knowledge taught in the English
colleges. But, with the present century, a new era
dawned upon the world. A host of new sciences




12
arose, all holding important relations to the progress
of civilization. Here was a whole people in an entirely novel position. Almost the whole nation was
able to read. Mind had been quickened to intense
energy by the events of the Revolution. The spirit of
self-reliance had gained strength by the result of that
contest. A country rich in every form of capability,
had just come into their possession. Its wealth was
inexhaustible, and its adaptation to the production of
most of the great staples of commerce unsurpassed.
All that was needed, in order to develope its recources,
was well directed labor. But labor can only be skilfully directed by science; and the sciences now coming into  notice were precisely those, which the
condition of such a country rendered indispensable to
success.
That such a people could be satisfied with the
teaching of Greek, Latin, and the elements of Mathematics, was plainly impossible. Lands were to be
surveyed, roads to be constructed, ships to be built and
navigated, soils of every kind, and under every variety
of climate, were to be cultivated, manufactures were
to be established, which must soon come into competition with those of more advanced nations, and, in a
word, all the means which science has provided to aid
the progress of civilization, must be employed, if this
youthful republic would place itself abreast of the
empires of Europe.
But it was at once apparent that this work could
not be accomplished by the system of instruction
which we inherited from our English ancestors. What
could Virgil and Horace and Homer and Demosthenes,




13
with a little mathematics and natural philosophy, do
towards developing the untold resources of this continent? But still more, this general idea was individualized in the bosom  of every citizen.  Every man
among us is the architect of his own fortune. In asserting the privileges, he also assumes the responsibilities of a free man. Hence every man is desirous for
himself and especially for his children, of that knowledge which is most essential to success in the field
which is placed before him.  Such knowledge was not
communicated in the former curriculum of studies, and
the demand for something additional became general
and imperative.
This was an important crisis in the history of collegiate education in this country. To remain in its present
condition was impossible. Every one conceded that a
knowledge of those sciences on which success depends
in the various departments of active life, must be
communicated to students in our higher seminaries of
learning.  Here two courses presented themselves to
the directors of these institutions. In the first place,
they might have said, the studies which we now teach,
occupy the whole time allotted to a collegiate education. It is barely sufficient to accomplish the work
now actually before us. We will introduce as many
other departments of learning as the public may demand, and we will teach them  well, but this work
cannot be done in four years. You must therefore
either extend the time of an education, or you must
leave each student to select those studies which he
shall choose, our only responsibility being to teach
well whatever we teach at all. Or, on the other hand,




14
they might have said, the time of education is fixed
at four years. This is the period allotted to a preparation for the learned professions.  Some degree of
knowledge of these sciences is required of every liberally educated man. We will, from time to time, introduce every new branch of science into this period of
study, by curtailing every other that may have been
previously taught, thus increasing the number, and
teaching every one less perfectly.
The latter was the course adopted to a greater or
less extent by all the colleges in this country.  It
seems to have been taken for granted, that our colleges were designed exclusively for professional men;
that they must teach all that professional men might
wish to know; and that all this must be taught in
four years; and in accordance with this idea, the
former system was modified. The time of study was
not extended, but science after science was added to
the course, as fast as the pressure from without seemed
to require it. The extent to which this system has
been carried among us, may be seen by observing the
annual catalogue of any of our colleges.  In the
oldest and most celebrated college of New England,
the course of study pursued by the undergraduate
embraces the following branches of learning, to wit:
Latin, Greek, Mathematics, comprehending Geometry
and Algebra, Plane and Spherical Trigonometry, and
Analytical Geometry, Ancient and Modern History,
Natural History, Chemistry, Rhetoric, French, Psychology, Ethics, Physics, Logic, Botany, Political
Economy, the Evidences of Religion, Constitution of
the United States, Mineralogy, Geology, and German




15
or Spanish or an equivalent, together with essays to
be written in several of these departments, and instruction in Elocution.
There are in the whole four years, one hundred and
sixty weeks of study. Suppose that the student pursues twenty of these branches of learning, this will
allow eight weeks to each. Seven eighths of the first
year, and one half of the second, are devoted to Latin,
Greek, and Mathematics. If we subtract this amount,
fifty-five weeks from one hundred and sixty, it leaves
one hundred and five weeks to be devoted to the
remainder. This will give us six weeks and a fraction to each of the other studies. But this is not all.
In order to introduce so many sciences into the period
of four years, the student is frequently obliged to
carry on five or six at the same time; some occupying
him three times, others twice, and others once in a
week.  In this manner all continuity of thought is
interrupted, and literary enthusiasm rendered almost
impossible.  Such has, to a greater or less degree,
been the course pursued by all our colleges.  The
greater the number of studies prescribed in the
curriculum, the more generous is believed to be the
education imparted.  When a college is not able to
exhibit so extensive a course of instruction, it is considered as a misfortune which nothing can palliate
but its pecuniary inability to relieve it.
Nor, in this case, were either the community or the
colleges justly liable to censure. The fact is, the community, from  imperfect knowledge of the subject,
required an impossibility. The colleges, feeling their
dependence on the public for support, undertook to




16
perform  the impossibility.  Besides, these changes
were not made all at once.  But the movement once
commenced, it could not be arrested until it had
arrived at its present result. It is true, as has been
before stated, the colleges might have attempted to
carry out the views of the public in another way.
Here, however, they must have encountered the common prejudice in favor of a four years' course, and of
the universality of degrees. They doubtless acted in
obedience to the indications then present. Allowing
them, however, all that can be claimed for honesty of
intention, the fact is, that we have now arrived at the
result of their decision.
And what is this result  Can the work that is
marked out in the course of studies in any of our colleges be performed in four years?  Is there any proportion between the labor to be done, and the time in
which it is to be accomplished? We have stated the
time that is given on an average to each of some
twenty sciences, in the foremost college in New England.  Can any one believe that such knowledge of
either of them can be acquired in this time, as shall
advance the progress of learning, or discipline the
mind of the student    The course of study, as we
have remarked, in the English Universities, is extremely
limited, the students enter the university from the best
of grammar schools, and yet those who are candidates
for honors are obliged to study industriously, and frequently intensely. If this is, therefore, a fair measure
of what a student can do, what must be the result, if
three or four times the amount of labor be imposed
upon him?




17
It must be evident that he cannot do it well. In
such a case, if he study thoroughly, he will be able to
advance in no one science beyond the merest rudiments; or else, if he desire to go over the whole
science, he cannot possibly acquire any thing more
than the most general and abstract principles learned
as a matter of rote, mere barren and isolated formula,
of which he cannot see the relations, and which are
never associated with any actual result. It seems to
us evident, that the effect of this mode of instruction
must be unfortunate on the mind of both student and
instructor. The student never carrying forward his
knowledge to its results, but being ever fagging at elements, loses all enthusiasm in the pursuit of science.
He works wearily.  He studies not from the love of
study, but to accomplish a task. He can read nothing
but his text-books, and he turns mechanically from
the one to the other. His own powers, except those
of acquisition, can have no play.  He learns to cram
for a recitation or for an examination; and when
this last is over, his work is done, and he is willing to
forget all that he has studied.  It gave him no pleasure, it has yielded him no fruit, and he gladly dismisses it all from his thoughts for ever. We fear that
there is a large portion of the graduates of all our
colleges, to whom these remarks may with truth be
applied.  If it be not so, they do great injustice to
themselves in all their conversation on the subject. But
do not the facts prove that the case is not overstated?
WVe have now in the United States, according to the
American Almanac of the present year, one hundred
and twenty colleges pursuing in general this course.
3




18
All of them  teach Greek and Latin, but where are
our classical scholars. All teach mathematics, but
where are our mathematicians' We might ask the
same questions concerning the other sciences taught
among us.  There has existed for the last twenty
years a great demand for civil engineers. Has this
demand been supplied from our colleges? We presume the single academy at West Point, graduating
annually a smaller number than many of our colleges,
has done more towards the construction of railroads
than all our one hundred and twenty colleges united.
We are happy to be able to confirm these remarks
by an extract from the admirable pamphlet of George
Ticknor, Esq., —and we could not quote a higher
authority, - written some years since on this subject.*
" Consider only that as many years are given here to
the great work of education as are given in Europe,
and that it costs more money with us, to be very imperfectly educated, than it does to enjoy the great
advantages of some of the best Universities on the
continent.  And yet who, in this country, by the
means offered him, has been enabled to make himself
a good Greek scholar?  Who has been taught thoroughly to read, write, and speak Latin  Nay, who
has been taught any thing at our colleges with the
thoroughness which will enable him to go safely and
directly to distinction, in the department he has thus
entered, without returning to lay anew the foundations of his success? It is a shame to be obliged to
ask such questions, and yet there is but one answer
* Remarks on the Changes in Harvard College, p. 45.




19
to them, and those who have visited and examined the
great schools of Europe, have bitterly felt there what
that answer is, and why it must be given." If it be
granted that improvement has been made since this
paragraph was written, it may yet be asked whether
the improvement is of such a nature as to abate the
force of its eloquent expostulation?
The effect of this system on the mind of the teacher
is equally obvious. He must teach generally from textbooks, and from text-books composed by others. His
mind can act but imperfectly on the mind of the
pupil.  The time of a recitation is commonly quite
occupied in ascertaining whether the pupil has learned
his daily task. He cannot mark out such a course
as he would wish to teach, but must teach as much as
he can, in the fragment of time allotted to him. The
books which he teaches soon become familiar to him.
He has no motive to increase his knowledge, derived
from the business to which he has consecrated his
life. He already knows more than he has the opportunity to communicate. There is no stimulus to call
forth exertion. There is no opportunity for progress.
The result is easily foreseen. Sometimes an instructor
becomes interested in other pursuits, and his real
business takes the place of only a secondary occupation. This is fatal to professional success. In other
cases, he becomes reconciled to, and finally in love
with, his monotonous routine; or, lastly, he throws
up his calling altogether, and enters another line of
life.
We have alluded to the fact that some new courses
of study have been added to the requirements for the




20
degree of A. B., in Oxford and Cambridge. It is
curious to remark, that it is already found that the
amount of labor required in the studies of the previous course, must be diminished. Dr. Pusey, in a
letter to the Vice Chancellor of Oxford, remarks, that
" It is absolutely necessary at present, to make some
provision towards relieving the candidates for honors.
Because we have so far simply added greatly to their
burden; we have imposed upon them a double examination, and a certain quantity of Natural Philosophy,
and we have given them no assistance or compensation whatever. Unless we do something in this direction, the measures which have been agreed to in convocation, will break down altogether."  Thus we
see, that when time is fully occupied, new studies
cannot be introduced without curtailing the old. The
English universities, having commenced this course,
will probably be obliged to proceed in it, until their
education, like ours, will be broken up into fragments, and then, abandoning the four years' term,
will throw  open their doors for education in all
branches of knowledge, making it their sole object to
teach every thing as well they are able.
Such has been the tendency of our collegiate system. It is now important to look upon it from another
point of view.
We remarked above, that in the early history of
New  England, the colleges supported themselves.
They had no endowments, there were no Education
Societies, nor was there any provision for the support of indigent students.  While these changes,
however, were going forward in the course of educa



21
tion, it was found that the means of the colleges were
diminishing.  Their fees were unable to pay the
instructors, and many of them were running in debt.
This may, in part, have been owing to the increase of
their number, occasioned by the differences in religious opinion which arose some thirty years since in
New England.  A more important reason, however,
is found in the relative changes in the masses of society, which, within this period, have been rapidly
going forward.  It is manifest to the most casual
observer, that the movement of civilization is precisely in the line of the useful arts. Steam, machinery and commerce, have built up a class of society
which formerly was only of secondary importance.
The inducements to enter the learned professions
have become far less, and those to enter upon the
active professions, vastly greater. The most coveted
positions in society, seats in our highest legislative
chambers, and even foreign embassies await the successful merchant or manufacturer, no less than him
who has devoted his life to what is called a learned
profession. And yet more; the number of those who
consider a collegiate education indispensable to a profession, has, for some time, been rapidly decreasing.
Men have come to doubt whether the course which
we pursue, is that best adapted to prepare men for the
duties even of professional life. The same fact is
observed in England.  Treating of this subject, a
writer in the Edinburgh Review   speaks as follows: -
"But, even as a preparatory training, is the actual
*April, 1849.




22
benefit ever found to justify their high pretensions?
Is there any man alive who can say, not with truth,
but even with conviction, that the best or most laborious scholars and mathematicians of the university are
the best lawyers, physicians, philosophers, or statesmen of England    The very reverse is the plain, if
not the acknowledged fact.  It would be difficult to
find at present, among the most eminent leaders in
Westminster Hall, any  whose academical course
was distinguished by studies or crowned with honors, either mathematical or classical.  The extent
to which academical distinctions have latterly been
thrown into the back-ground in the professional and
public life of England, has gone lengths which really
surprise us."
From these, or some other causes, it is the fact that,
within the last thirty years or more, it has been found
that the colleges of New England could not support
themselves. The fact is, they were originally schools
for merely the learned professions, and the proportion of those who desired a professional education
was growing less. It is true the sciences which relate
to practical life were taught in them, but they were
taught only in reference to the professions.  The
portion of time allotted to them, was merely sufficient
to communicate that knowledge which was considered
needful for a lawyer, or a clergyman; the physician
pursued these studies in the regular course of his
profession. The demand for the article produced in
the colleges was falling off, not from the want of
wealth, or intelligence, or enterprise in the community; but really because a smaller number of the
community desired it.




23
In this dilemma, two courses were again open
before the colleges. The first was to  adapt the
article produced, to the wants of the community.
Inasmuch as a less number desired to enter the
learned professions, and those who were entering
them, did not, in many cases, prefer this mode of
preparation, the sources from which students were
supplied to the colleges seemed to be drying up. But
here were large and intelligent classes of citizens who
needed education, though not such education as the
colleges afforded. These institutions might then have
been at once modified, and their advantages extended,
not to one class merely, but to every class which
needed a scientific and liberal education. In this
manner, they might probably have been enabled still
to support themselves.  The other course was to
appeal to the charity of the public, and thus provide
funds by which the present system might be sustained.
The second course was adopted. Funds were contributed in behalf of most of the New England colleges,
to a very large amount.  These were at first, if we do
not mistake, for the purpose of reducing the fees of
tuition. When this was done for one college, it must
soon be done for all, for students tend to the cheapest
college, as certainly as purchasers repair to him who
sells at the lowest price. But this was not found
sufficient. Soon funds began to be provided, in addition to those granted by Education Societies, by which
a large number of students might obtain gratuitous
tuition. In some cases a portion of these beneficiaries
also received room-rent and furniture free. Such is
now the course to which nearly all the colleges in




24
New England, to a greater or less degree, are tending.
They determined to restrict a collegiate education to
the instruction required in a preparation for the professions. I he demand for this kind of education decreased. It could not be disposed of at cost. The first
effort made was to provide the means for furnishing
it below cost. VWhen it could not be sustained at this
reduction, the next effort made was to furnish a large
part of it gratuitously.  Hence, if it be desired to render a college prosperous, we do not so much ask in
what way can we afford the best education, or confer
the greatest benefit on the community, but how can we
raise funds, by which our tuition may be most effectually either reduced in price, or given away altogether?
It deserves to be remarked, that to these calls in
behalf of the colleges, the people of New England
have responded nobly. An immense sum  of money
has, within the last thirty years, been contributed
among us, for the purposes of collegiate education.
In few cases on record, has the disinterested love for
learning been more benevolently exhibited. It was
held that all learning among us depended on our colleges; that the bar, the pulpit, and the senate, would
be surrendered up to ignorance, if the colleges perished.  The people of New  England would have
prevented such a result at any sacrifice. No other
way of preventing it was presented to them, than the
endowment of colleges, and providing means for
gratuitous collegiate education. For these purposes
they therefore gave, and they would now treble their
benefactions, rather than suffer higher education to




25
fail from the midst of us. There can be but one opinion in respect to the moral character of such efforts.
These endowments have been created by benevolent
men deserving of all praise.  The amount of them
cannot, by any means in our possession, be now ascertained.  It is a remarkable fact, especially among
such a people as that of New England, that colleges
are the only corporations intrusted with funds, either
by public or private liberality, which are not required
to make an annual exhibit of their property and
the mode in which it is appropriated.  The receipts
and disbursements, even of a mite society, are always
made public; but of the colleges in INew  England,
there  is but one which  publishes its Treasurer's
annual report.  From the report of this institution
for the last year, we may learn something of the liberality with which education is supported among us,
and also of the cost to the public, at which the present collegiate system is sustained.
The amount of funds, according to the Report of
the Treasurer of Harvard College, appropriated to
the education of undergraduates, or to the academic
department, is $467,162.17.  The interest of this
sum, together with the fees for tuition, furnishes the
means for supporting the institution. This interest,
at six per cent., is $28,029.72, that is, the college
pays out for education this amount more than it
receives for tuition. If we divide this sum by the
average number of graduates for the last ten years,
fifty-seven, it will give $491.01, which is the portion
received by every graduate. In other words, the public
or private munificence of the friends of this noble insti4




26
tution grant a bonus of $491 to every student who
takes his regular degree.  This sum is, on an average,
given to all, whether they pay their bills or not; those
who are aided, receive an additional share, by which
the receipt of the others is somewhat diminished.
But this is only a portion of the amount invested in
education.  The lands, buildings, library, apparatus,
museums, and other means of instruction for the benefit of the student, would probably amount to as large
a sum  as the fund above mentioned.  If we add these
together, we shall see that every graduate of this
institution, in addition to all that he pays for his own
education, costs the public nearly $1000.  And yet
the Treasurer complains of the straitened condition of
the University.  On this subject he speaks as follows:
" While Professional Schools for the instruction, which
yields an immediate return to those who receive it,
are growing up around the college, the undergraduate
department, which is in fact the institution so long
cherished by our fathers and ourselves, remains substantially in the same imperfectly supplied condition
in which it has been for many years, indeed during
the whole history of its struggling life, with insufficient foundations for its professorships, with very
small resources to aid indigent students, with no permanent funds for a library or for philosophical apparatus, or collections in natural history, or apparatus of any
sort required in the pursuit of science; it is rather
surprising that the college should have accomplished
so much good in extending the influences of education, than that complaints should be made of its many
imperfections and deficiencies."




27
Here then is a college situated in the centre of a
most intelligent community, directed by gentlemen of
public-spirited benevolence, officered by scholars of
the highest reputation, which, with such means at its
command, finds it difficult to sustain itself.  The fault
is not in the community, nor in the instructors. It
must be in the system, if there be a fault at all.*
So much for the expense to the community, at which
the present system of collegiate education has been
carried on. It is not, of course, to be presumed that
this is the same in all our colleges.  Probably, as Harvard College is more richly endowed than any other
in this country, the amount contributed in this case
is  far above  the  average.'We  have  taken   this
instance, however, because  it is  the  only  college
whose accounts, so far as we know, are made public, and we have done it the more readily, because it
will be universally allowed that, both for intelligence
and moral excellence, the gentlemen who conduct the
system here, are worthy of the unlimited confidence
of the community.
But another question  will naturally  arise, How
does this  system  work      Is not the  cultivation  of
science in  a  community, worth  all this  and  vastly
* By a similar comparison of the funds of the Law, Divinity, and Medical Schools, with the present number of the senior class in each, it will
appear that each Law student receives from the fund towards the payment
of his education, $86; each Medical student $27; and each Divinity
student $1.680. This last is larger for the present year, in consequence of
the small number of the senior class. The cost of Theological education
in our endowed seminaries is probably about $1000, besides whatever the
student pays himself. This is the premium  paid by the public on this
branch of professional education.




28
more? Can money be more wisely employed than in
scattering high education broadcast over the land; in
raising the intellectual and scientific character of our
public men, and in diffusing abroad amongst us, the
humanizing influences of polite learning? Surely
not. Liberal as our people are in this respect, it
were well if their liberality were increased.  Our
argument here does not, however, require us to consider the excellence of charity, but the wisdom of a
particular form of it. We then come to the question,
Have the efforts that have been made in the direction
we have indicated, accomplished the object intended?
The objects designed to be accomplished by endowments for the reduction of tuition and for furnishing
it gratuitously in our colleges, have been, we suppose,
the following: -
First, to increase the number of educated men in
the whole community.
Second, to raise the standard of professional learning, and thus increase its intellectual power.
Third, to increase the number of the ministers of
the Gospel.
It will be granted that, in just so far as the present
system has accomplished these objects, it has succeeded; and just in so far as it has not accomplished
them, it has failed.
First. Has the present mode of supporting the
existing collegiate system, increased the number of
educated men in New England?
Since the year 1830, the New England States have
increased largely in population.  In 1830, we numbered 1,955,207; in 1840, 2,234,822; in 1850,we shall




29
probably not fall short of 2,800,000. Our wealth has
increased in a still greater ratio. It would probably
be a moderate estimate to suppose our capital to have
doubled or even trebled within that period. The number of persons among us, able to avail themselves of a
collegiate education, must have increased in a similar
proportion. Very large sums have within this time
been given to sustain our colleges.  The means of
education in all of them have been greatly enlarged.
Of improvements in apparatus for experimental illustration and scientific discovery, we are unable to
speak with definiteness, as the data are not before us.
The number of books in our libraries is, however,
known.  In 1830, the whole number of volumes in
the libraries of our colleges, was 109,218; in 1849
it had increased to 270,230. These facts will show,
that during this period our people have been fully
aware of the importance of education, and have been
willing to provide the means for the advancement of
good learning.
Let us now turn to our statistics, and inquire what
has been the result of these efforts upon the number of students in our colleges.*  The institutions
included in the  following estimate, are Bowdoin,
Waterville, Dartmouth, Middlebury, University  of
Vermont, Williams, Amherst, Harvard, Brown, Trinity, Yale, and Wesleyan University.
In order to avoid prolixity, we will divide the
whole time into periods of five years, and give the
average number of students in each.
The authority for these statistics. is the volumes of the American
Almanac from 1830 to 1850.




30
From 1830 to 1834, the average number was..1560
From 1835 to 1839,    "    "    ".. 1803
From 1840 to 1844,    "    "    ".. 2063
From 1844 to 1849,    "    "    "            2000
In the year 1850,    "    "     ".. 1884
For the last three years, the numbers have been as
follows:-In 1848, 1922; in 1849, 1828; in 1850,
1884. In the year 1849, the number was only seven
greater than in 1835; and in 1850, only fifty-one
greater than 1836. Or if we estimate the number of
our inhabitants at 2,800,000, and compare the year
1830 with the year 1849, we shall find that in the
former year one in 13,650 was pursuing a collegiate
education, and in the latter year only one in 14,080.
It is also to be remembered that, during this period,
Education Societies have been in most active operation, and the cost of collegiate education has become
cheaper than of any other education in New England
The cost of instruction in private schools has been
rapidly increasing, and that in colleges has either
remained stationary, has decreased, or it has been
remitted altogether.
From these facts it would certainly appear that the
number of those who are seeking a collegiate education is actually growing less, and this moreover is at a
time when the subject of education has attracted the
attention of our whole community to a degree altogether unprecedented in our history. If this be so, it
would lead us to suspect that the increase of the
number of students in a particular college, arising
from the increase of its beneficiary funds, affords no
indication of the real progress of collegiate education.




31
It merely shows that this particular college, by reducing the expenses of residence below the average, is
enabled to attract students from the other colleges in
its neighborhood.  Students may thus be transferred
from one institution to another, while the aggregate
number is diminishing.  Is there not danger, under
such a system, that colleges may be tempted to render
education cheap instead of striving to render it valuable?
Secondly. Has the standard of professional ability
been raised within the last thirty years?  On this
subject it is difficult to arrive at a reliable opinion.
We are all, to a considerable  extent, "laudatores
temporis acti," the eulogists of the past. It is, however,
we think, a very general opinion that the average of
professional talent among us is declining. The rank
and file of everN y profession probably contains a smaller
proportion of remarkable talent than in the last generation. The inducements to enter the professions seem
to address themselves less successfully to young men
of ability and enterprise. The other departments of
life are continually alluring men from high places in
Law, and even in Divinity.  The productive professions are commonly filled with men who have not
enjoyed the advantages of a collegiate education; nay,
for whose benefit no schools whatever have been established, and yet, in influence, ability and general intelligence, their position in relation to the professions is
far in advance of that which they held some thirty
years since. This would indicate that the professions
certainly had not advanced as rapidly as society around
them, that is, that relatively they had retrograded.




32
But without pressing this argument further, it will
probably be conceded, and this is sufficient for our
purpose, that no noticeable effect upon the intellectual character of the professions has been produced by
the efforts which we have made to reduce the price of
tuition in our colleges.
Thirdly. Have our efforts in this direction increased
the number of the ministers of the Gospel?
To increase the number of teachers of religion, has
always been a favorite and most laudable object of
benevolence in New England.  To favor this design,
almost every denomination has established Education
Societies, by which candidates for the ministry may be
assisted to defray their expenses of living, from  their
admission to the academy to the close of their education
at the seminary. Besides these, foundations have been
established at many of the colleges for their especial
benefit, while tuition at all our theological schools is
gratuitous; and in some, room rent, and in case of
indigence, board also is provided. There is no other
profession for which so ample provision is made, or
for which, in fact, any special provision is made at all.
Our present system is here carried as far as any one
could desire, and, if it be the true system, its beneficial
effects cannot but manifest themselves here. Let us
then look at the facts.
If we collate the tables of the American Almanac
for the several years from 1830 to 1850, we shall find
the following result. We take the seminaries of Bangor, Andover, Cambridge, Newton, New Haven and
East Windsor, and find that the average, for periods of
five years, of their aggregate number of students, is as
follows:




33
From 1830 to 1834, the average is.. 265
"  1835 to 1839,...        346
"  1840 to 1844,......350
"  1845 to 1849,   "..    290
The whole number for the last year is 261.  This is
less by ten than that for the year 1833. From 1830
to 1840 the number of students increased from 253 to
373, and from 1840 to 1850 it has decreased from 373
to 261, that is, it is only eight more now, than it was
thirty years ago.
This remarkable fact has of late been frequently
observed. The Rev. Dr. Pomroy, in a paper read before
the American Board of Commissioners, in September
last, states, that " the aggregate number of theological
students in the seminaries of Andover, New Haven,
Bangor, East Windsor, New Brunswick, Union, Auburn, Western Reserve, and Lane, is about 367." The
number reported in the American Almanac for 1834,
from five of them, (East Windsor, Union, Western Reserve, and Lane not then being given,) is 342. That
is, the number of students in five schools in 1834 is
only twenty-five less than in nine schools in 1849.
From this it would seem that the plan of gratuitous
education has been most remarkably unsuccessful in
that profession in which it has been most thoroughly
tried. Dr. Pomroy further remarks, that " the number
of pious young men in colleges is less than it was a
few years since; and of those who profess religion,
a larger proportion than formerly go into other professions than the ministry. Of those who have the
ministry in view, but few are pondering the question
of their duty to the heathen." He adds in another
5




34
place, that, " of all the graduates from the seminaries
above named, only seven have offered themselves for
missionary service during tie current year."
It would seem then, fiom  such facts as these, that
our present system  of collegiate education is not
accomplishing the purposes intended. The difficulty
does not seem to arise from its expensiveness.  Were
this the case, a larger number of the wealthy would
avail themselves of its advantages, and just in proportion as the cause was removed, the effect would
cease.  The benefactions on the whole, would increase
the number of students on the whole.  The reverse,
however, is the fact, for as the benefactions increase,
the aggregate number diminishes.  We are, therefore,
forced to adopt the other supposition, that our colleges are not filled because we do not furnish the
education desired by the people.  We have constructed them  upon the idea, that they are to be schools
of preparation for the professions.  Our customers,
therefore, come from the smallest class of society;
and the importance of the education which we furnish is not so universally acknowledged as formerly,
even by this class.  We have produced an article for
which the demand is diminishing.  We sell it at less
than cost, and the deficiency is made up by charity.
We give it away, and still the demand diminishes.
Is it not time to inquire whether we cannot furnish
an article for which the demand will be, at least,
somewhat more remunerative?
But it will be doubtless demanded, Is it not desirable to aid the efforts of genius struggling with adversity?  Is it not one of the highest obligations




35
imposed upon wealth, to furnish, with all necessary
aid, that talent which the Creator has formed for
purposes of distinguished usefulness. We answer,
most assuredly. There can be no more nobler appropriation of charity.  That man must be destitute of
all right affections, who would not consider it not
merely a duty, but a high privilege to aid in such a
cause.  This is not, however, the question before us.
It is one thing to aid the struggles of genius oppressed
by adversity, and quite another to provide such inducements to education, that young men shall be
enticed into the learned professions, who would be
more useful and successful in other departments of
life. It is doubtless both our duty and our privilege
to aid the sick, the widow, and the orphan, or any
others whom God has deprived of the means of subsistence. This is, however, no valid argument for the system of English poor laws, or for the establishment of
a fund held in common, for the aid of all who choose
to apply for it. If funds are only employed to unfold
talent and cultivate that intellectual and moral power
which God has bestowed as largely on our country as
on any other, we care not how munificent they are,
provided, always, that they do not paralyze the sentiment of honest, manly independence, without which
genius itself is contemptible.
We shall close this portion of our remarks, with an
extract from  the Report of the Commissioners, appointed in 1830 by the Crown, to examine into the
condition of the Universities in Scotland. In some
of these Universities large provisions are made for
indigent students, which are called Bursaries.  In




36
respect to  the  practical working  of this system  in
Scotland, the commissioners speak as follows; and
their remarks seem  to  us exceedingly  applicable to
our own case:
"From  the information contained in the evidence before us,
and particularly from the statements of several of the professors,
we entertain very strong apprehensions, that the laudable object
which it is proposed to promote by such bequests, has not been
very satisfactorily or usefully accomplished, and that the number of
small bursaries has been attended with consequences very prejudicial to the interests of the universities.  The number of the
bursaries is greatly beyond the proportion necessary for the encouragement of extraordinary merit, or to provide for individual
cases of unusual poverty and hardship. It is completely proved,
that many are attracted to the university in the hope of obtaining
a bursary, and are induced to continue their attendance without
any natural turn for any of the learned professions.  It appears
that some of these persons are at last left in the most distressing of
all situations, disqualified for the occupations in which they might
otherwise have been employed, and unable to turn to any account
the education which they have received in the university. Under
such circumstances, many are induced to direct their views to the
church, and very painful instances have been mentioned to us, of
their occupations and condition in after life. The evils resulting
from this state of things, are serious and manifold. The character
of the instruction afforded at the universities will be insensibly
lowered with a view to the numbers attracted by these bursaries,
without adequate preparation or instruction. The resort thus artificially created is mistaken for a general tendency of persons of the
same description in life to attend the universities; and the feeling is
very naturally entertained by the professors, that the paramount
object of their exertions is to adapt their instruction to the wants
and previous education of this class of students.  It is to this
cause that we are inclined to ascribe the views, which have been so
strongly urged upon our attention by the Masters of Kings College,
Aberdeen, in regard to the objects to which the Northern Universities ought, in their opinion, to be devoted, and the character and




3T
standard of instruction, which they consider it to be necessary to
afford. From these views we entirely dissent. We are convinced
that no good can  ever result from  lowering the standard of
instruction afforded in the universities, in order to suit the attainments of students who come to college without reasonable preparation.  Neither is such a lamentable sacrifice in any degree required, with a view to enable young men of strong natural talent,
and decided turn for instruction, to overcome the difficulties and
hardships to which  poverty may subject them.  Where  such
talents and dispositions exist, we believe, that, in most cases, if
corresponding advantages and means of improvement are afforded,
the highest attainments will be ultimately gained by such students.
These are, in almost every instance, the students, who, before
entering the university, will have profited most by their previous
education, and have derived the most advantage from the means of
early instruction, however limited and scanty. To such students
no course of education, which the university can afford, can be
pitched too high or carried too far; their industry, ardor, or natural
genius, will conquer all difficulties, and their object will not be
obtained, or justice done to them, if the instruction afforded by the
universities shall be lowered in order to suit the capacity and
acquirements of persons, solely attracted to college by the advantages of a bursary." *
It may serve to relieve the tedium of a dry discussion, as well as to illustrate the tendency of a system
of education, raised by great endowments above the
control of enlightened public opinion, to observe the
manner in which the present university instruction is
treated by intelligent observers.' The following extract is from the Edinburgh Review, April, 1849:
"Is this, then, the dilemma in which an English gentleman
ought to find himself on leaving his university?  Should he be at
best profoundly versed in mathematics or classics, and ignorant of
all earthly things else? or very possibly ignorant of every thing,
* Rep. Cor., p. 92, Parl. Doe,.




38
classics and mathematics included? Ought this to be his condition
on bracing himself for the tussle and jostle of life? Is he thus to
enter the turmoil and collision of a busy, rapid, and multifarious
society, which is compounded of elements the most various, —
agitated by ideas the most antagonistic, and liable to impressions
the most fitful? Is he at the very best to bring from the sacred
grove into the competition and worry of society, nothing but a
knowledge of high analysis, or the graces of Greek and Latin
composition?  Or may he bury beneath the hood of a B. A. a
Cimmerian ignorance of all subjects, ancient and modern, classical
and conventional? Yet such is the natural and necessary consequence of the position which every laudator temporis acti has to
defend in theory - and often illustrates by example.
" The Honorable Mortimer Plantagenet is the representative of
a family which dates from the Conquest, was distinguished in the
Crusades, and submitted to the degradation of a Peerage in Charles
II.'s time. The Honorable Mortimer was sent to Eton in his
twelfth year, where he won the heart of his schoolfellows by his
wit, and the admiration of his masters by his Latin verses. No
one so smart as he at a repartee; no one so clever at longs and
shorts.  He would knock off his thirty-six elegiacs or his fifty
hexameters, while he was fielding at cricket or kneeling at chapel.
He had a playful fancy, a retentive memory, and a happy phraseology; his verses were elegant, and his ideas poetical.  He was
indolent, but not unambitious. The distinctions which were attainable without much labor, he had industry sufficient to court. Nor
did he confine his studies to the business of school.  He read
history with diligence and effect; he spoke in the debating society
with fluency and propriety.  He left Eton for Oxford with the
buoyancy of youthful hope, and the aspiration of friendly promise.
Ex illo fJuere. His attention had been awakened to the duties of
his present and prospective positions. He felt by this time, that he
was ignorant in every branch of natural and moral science, and he
thirsted for information. But Oxford offered no incentive to his
ambition, no light to his ignorance.  Modern history and political
economy were, indeed, lectured on; but there was no examination
in them, no degree. For a time he strove to repair the negligence
of his Alma Mater by his own industry.  But the conflict was too




39
great, for one endowed with only moderate perseverance and beset
by many temptations.  For want of encouragement in subjects,
which might have strengthened and steadied his light and popular
nature, Plantagenet gradually sank into the herd who are contented
toleave Oxford with a' pol' degree, and the small erudition which
that degree implies. He has never recovered the loss of those two
years - worse than wasted at Christ Church.  He has become
idle, useless, and a roue.  He has a seat in parliament, but he does
no good with it. If he is put on a committee, which has to investigate subjects of finance, he is nonplussed; for he is innocent of
the simplest rules of arithmetic.  If he is placed on one where
questions of practical science are discussed, he is equally perplexed; for he does not know a lever from a wedge, nor has he
heard of the laws of motion.  Even on topics with which as a
schoolboy he was familiar, he is now silent and oblivious. The
age has outgrown him; and he has the sense to see it.  He sits,
therefore, a mute and inglorious senator, half-conscious of the
blunders and mis-statements which buzz around him, but incapable
of refuting or exposing them; a melancholy instance of a clever
schoolboy perverted into an idle man and a useless politician. No
wonder the more he feels that he was capable, under other management, of being made something of, if he should so much the
more keenly reproach the system, under which he is aware that he
has been thrown away.
" Let us now take an instance from  the sister university.  The
Rev. Theophilus Mudge was the son of a country parson, who had
formerly been a Fellow of St. John's. In his fifth year, he was
solemnly devoted to the university. His sacrifice on the altar of
Latinity was made before he had turned five; he was in' LEsop's
Fables' before he was quite eight; at ten he was inducted into the
first book of Euclid; and it was his estimable parent's boast, that
he had been made to write out every proposition in it, at least a
dozen times, before he attained the age of eleven. At fifteen he
was inoculated with differential calculus. At eighteen he entered
his father's college, brimful of formulae and idioms which he had
gotten by rote, and bent upon two objects: first, a good degree;
next, a fellowship. I-e rose early and read late.  He wrote out
expressions as long as Mr. C. Anstey's speeches, without under



40
standing them; and he translated Greek through a brick wall.
Imagination and invention, whether in classics or mathematics, was
a stranger to his soul. He could have walked on his head sooner
than he could have done a problem. He never composed a line in
Greek or Latin which had a spark of vigor in it. He produced
what he had crammed from Hymers, from Whewell, from Peacock,
and from Wood, with mechanical correctness. He was familiar with
Viger; and knew by heart all the private history of i'r and on7uw, and
all the etiquette of the subjunctive and optative moods. He wrote
out his bookwork in as short a time as any man of his college;
and translated Thucydides with that awkward accuracy which none
but English scholars could admire, and few  even of English
masters teach.  He had his reward.  He became eighth wrangler,
and added to this the dignity of a second class. His college
elected her ossified scholar to a fellowship, and in process of time
sent him down to pray and preach among the wool-combers and
corn-factors of Bumbleborough-on-the-hill.  Here he found himself
surrounded by a large and rude but sharp-witted population, which
knew not Greek and worshipped Cobden. The municipal dignitaries had all gotten their learning at the parish school, the Mechanics' Institute, and the Bumbleborough Reform Association.
Their leading orators were a corn-chandler and a preacher at the
tabernacle.  The one harangued about the bloated Haristocracy,
who were supported by the' hodious statute of primogeniture;'
the other prayed with pious rancor against'them  bishops who
were fed out of the taxes of the people!' Mudge was looked on
as a great gun when he arrived; and vigorous churchmen of
plethoric habit and gilt buttons, winked their conviction that he
would silence the Hyperides of the Five Points Club, and the
Jeremiah of the Tabernacle. But Mudge was helpless and contemptuous.  He heard much that was false paraded as fact, and
much that was illogical laid down as argument. But Mudge had
never cared for any of these things, and knew nothing about them.
He was as ignorant as the most obstreperous of his assailants, but
he was less impudent. So he suffered the noisy assertions of
garrulous folly to pass without rebuke; the shameless impudence
of braggart ignorance to triumph unrefuted; the church to be
libelled: and the language, as well as history, of England to be




41
abused, without an effort to resist, or the chance of resisting with
success. His glory has departed from  him; his cause and his
church tremble under his auspices; and even Bumbleborough
respects no longer his high degree!  In this case, the world at
large, we may be sure, is much of the mind of Bumbleborough,
and looks with deserved suspicion at a system where, under any
circumstances, the Mudges can succeed in carrying away its
emoluments and honors."
We come, in the next place, to consider the manner
in which this college has been affected by the changes
which have been taking place in collegiate education
in New England.
It may serve to illustrate the whole subject, if we
commence with  a brief review  of the history of the
institution for the last twenty-two years.
At the commencement of the year 1827, the number of students on the college books was about ninety.
During that year twenty-five were admitted to the
various classes. The officers of instruction consisted
of the president, three professors, and two tutors.
The salaries of the professors were fixed at $1000
each, and that of the president at $1500.
From  that time to the present, if we take periods
of five years, the average number of undergraduates
annually admitted has been as follows: —
From 1827 to 1832....   35
"   1832 to 1837.... 62
"   1837 to 1842....   56
"   1842 to 1847..... 53
"   1847 to 1849....   49
The greatest number admitted in any one year was
seventy, in the year 1835 - 6.  The smallest number,
twenty-five, was admitted in the year 1827- 8.
6




42
From the year 1827 to 1835 - 6 the number of the
students steadily increased. The income of the institution was not only sufficient to pay all its expenses,
but also to relieve it of a considerable debt which it
had incurred in previous years. The demand for an
enlargement of the studies of the collegiate course,
which was made upon other institutions, pressed with
equal weight upon us. The demand seemed reasonable. Most of the New England colleges were already
far in advance of us in this respect.  Unless we had
followed their example, the college could not have
been sustained.  Our means allowed of the appointment of additional professors.  Other professorships
were therefore established. The library fund had
come into use, and the appointment of a librarian
became indispensable. In this manner the expenses
of the institution became much increased.
It is here to be remarked, that between the years
1832 and 1842, the number of the undergraduates
was larger than at any other period within the last
twenty-two years. During this period aid was granted
to candidates for the ministry to the amount of $15
per annum, in remission of the fees for tuition, from
a subscription raised by some of the friends of the
college.  The number of students aided from  this
fund was one hundred and one. In the year 1842
this fund was exhausted, and it has not been renewed.
Since the year 1832, large donations have been
made to the funds of almost all the colleges in New
England. These donations have been made either for
the endowment of professorships, or in the form of




43
aid to indigent students. In either case, their effect
is the same, to retain at its former point, or else to
reduce the cost of tuition. Whether these causes
have led to the reduction of the number of students
in this university, it is not for your committee to
determine.  They merely notice the fact, that from
this time the diminution in our number has continued
to increase, and only forty-two undergraduates were
admitted at the last commencement. At first, it was
hoped that this diminution of numbers was owing to
incidental causes, and that it indicated nothing but
the ordinary fluctuation to which all institutions are
liable.  It has, however, continued for so long a
period, and with so steady a progress, that we are
forced to the conviction that its causes are permanent.
It is for this reason that the corporation has instituted
the present inquiries.
Before proceeding farther, it may be important to
turn to the financial condition of the college, for the
purpose of ascertaining the means which have been
at the disposal of the corporation, for meeting the
exigencies which have occurred.
In the year 1827, the property of Brown University
consisted of the college premises; two college buildings, used as lecture rooms, and dormitories for students; and funds to the amount of $34,300.
This fund remains the same at the present day.
The college has not for more than forty years received
a dollar, either from public or private benevolence,
which could be appropriated to the support of the
officers of instruction, or, with the exception of the
temporary  subscription  mentioned  above, a dollar




44
which could be applied to the purpose of reducing
the price of tuition. A considerable portion of the
income from this fund is, by necessity, consumed in
the payment of annual repairs and other incidental
expenses of the institution. The residue, with the
receipts for tuition, constitutes all the means in the
hands of the corporation for the support of the
president and professors.
Since the year 1827, the following additions have
been made to the property of the university.
Two commodious edifices, one for the library and
chapel, and the other for lecture rooms and the
museum, and a new house for the president, have been
erected by the liberality of the late Hon. Nicholas
Brown and other friends of the institution.  These,
though indispensable to the well-being of the university, add nothing whatever to its income.
The Rev. Henry Jackson and another individual
have contributed funds for the establishment of the
Jackson and the President's Premiums. Over the disposal of these funds the corporation have no control.
The only funds in the direction of which the corporation have had any agency, are the library fund
and the fund by which the University premiums have
been established.
The principle by which, in this respect, the corporation has been governed, is the following. They
believed that to render this college deserving of the
patronage of the public was the true means of insuring
its success. They therefore have sought to attract
students to this seat of learning by the literary advantages which it presented, rather than by the offer of




45
gratuitous tuition. It seemed to them better to provide the means of liberal and generous intellectual
culture, than to labor mainly for the increase of the
number of its graduates. They could conceive of no
other manner in which they could so worthily fulfil
the duty devolving upon them, that of raising the
standard of education in our country. It will be seen
that their measures have all been taken in conformity
with these views.
Their first care was to establish a library for the
university. In the year 1831, the library contained
somewhat less than six thousand volumes. These
volumes had been contributed at various times since
the foundation of the college, and though frequently
valuable, were miscellaneous in their character, and
furnished no suitable apparatus for the prosecution of
study in any department of learning. An appeal was
made to the public on behalf of this department of
the university, and the sum of $19,437.50 was realized from  a subscription.  Of this amount the late
Hon. Nicholas Brown gave $10,000. The fund thus
raised was suffered to accumulate until the year 1839,
when it had reached the sum of $25,000.  Since
June of that year, the income of this foundation has
been devoted to the increase of the library and the
philosophical apparatus.
The result of this effort has been the present library
of the university, containing nearly twenty-four thousand volumes, carefully selected, and rich in the treasures of the most important departments of science
and literature. Competent judges have declared it to
be, as a working library, second to none in New Eng



46
land. The means have also been provided for enabling
it to keep pace with the progress of science, and thus
open within the institution a perennial fountain of
knowledge.
The only other funds which, within the last twentytwo years, have been placed within the control of the
corporation, is a bequest of the late Hon. Nicholas
Brown, to be applied to the assistance of indigent and
meritorious students. The corporation had here the
opportunity of choice as to the mode in which this
bequest should be appropriated.  They might, from it,
have constituted a common fund by which indigent
students, not falling below a certain grade of scholarship, might have been assisted; or they might bestow
the annual income in the form of premiums for excellence in scholarship in the various sciences pursued in
the collegiate course. They chose the latter mode of
appropriation.  It seemed to them proper to bestow
this benefaction in such a manner as would tend most
effectually to raise the standard of scholarship, to confer honor upon the recipient, and to increase his sense
of self-dependence, as well as relieve his pecuniary
necessities.
Such have been the principles on which the corporation have administered the affairs of this institution,
and such is the manner in which they have carried
them into practice. It remains now to inquire in how
far their administration has been attended with success.
On the subject of the literary character of the university it does not become your committee to speak.
The decision of this question must rest with the pub



47
lic. If, however, the means of education from being
exceedingly imperfect, have not been raised to an
equality with most of the colleges in our neighborhood, if the instruction here given is not as liberal and
thorough as our system will admit, if the progress
of this institution has not been as rapid within the
period spoken of as that of other seats of learning with
which it may fairly be compared, and if the general
reputation of the college is not creditable to the State
and the community, then has the corporation failed to
accomplish the design which it intended.  If these
results have been attained, then they have succeeded.
In another respect, however, the committee conceive
that the expectations of the corporation have not been
realized.  The number of students, for several years,
has not increased, but has diminished.  Hence the
condition of the institution has become embarrassed.
A few words will be sufficient to explain the nature of
this embarrassment.
It was stated above, that in the year 1827 the officers
consisted of a president, three professors, and two tutors.
The salary of the presiden twas $1500, that of the
professors $1000, and that of the tutors $400 per
annum.  It has been found necessary to add two to
the number of professors, and appoint a librarian, and
frequently a sub-librarian. These are to be sustained
by the income of the institution. The instruction in
French is paid for by fees from the students.
The salaries which were paid twenty-two years since
are now rendered totally inadequate by the increased
expensiveness of living. For a considerable period the
officers of instruction have been obliged to support




48
themselves in part from their own funds. The corporation have long felt that the professors were laboring
at wholly insufficient compensation, but they were unwilling, by the increase of salaries, to burden the institution with debt. At the last annual meeting, however,
the case became so urgent that the committee of advice
was directed to increase the salaries of all the professors.  The salaries were therefore raised $200 each.
With this addition, the amount to be paid during the
current year to the officers of the institution, is $8250.
The whole receipts of the institution for the last year,
deducting contingent expenses, was $7300.  That is,
if the number of students were the same for the present
as for the last year, the income would fall short of the
expenditure $950.  If the additional officers, which
the discipline of the institution requires, be appointed,
this deficit will be increased to the sum of $1800
per annum.  Proceeding at this rate, the fund must
soon be exhausted, and the institution become bankrupt.
It appears then, that if the institution is to be maintained, some means must be adopted for its relief. The
question to be considered is, What shall these means
be 
In the first place, however, it is proper to inquire
whether the instruction and discipline of the institution have rendered it less worthy than formerly of the
favor of the public.  If any fault exists here, the
remedy is obvious.  The present officers should be
removed, and their places supplied by such persons
as can command the confidence of the friends of the
college.  Should the corporation be of the opinion




49
that no change in this respect is necessary, we must
look for relief in some other direction.
If it be determined to sustain the institution, two
methods of accomplishing this object present themselves. The first is, to continue it upon its present
system, retaining the four years' course; considering
the college as a mere preparatory school for the professions of Law, Medicine and Divinity; and adjusting
the various branches of instruction in conformity with
this idea. To accomplish this object, at our present
rate of numbers, would probably require a fund of,50,000.  This would enable the corporation to pay
a more remunerating salary to the officers, and improve
the condition of the college in several essential particulars. It would, however, do nothing, or very little,
either to reduce the cost of tuition or render it gratuitous. It would not, therefore, increase the number of
students.  To accomplish this object, it is probable
that a much greater outlay would be necessary.
But, if the views entertained in the previous part of
this report be correct, it may be doubted whether this
would be more than a temporary expedient.  The
reduction of tuition might avail, so long as our terms
were lower than those of other colleges; but so soon
as theirs were reduced to the same level, we must provide the means for still further reduction. It seems
to your committee undesirable, that the colleges of our
country should, by any contingency, be enlisted in a
competition of this nature.
The question deserves to be considered, whether the
funds necessary to accomplish this object could be
raised.  On this subject, your committee dare not




speak with confidence. They are aware of the attachment of the graduates of this college to the place of
their education; and they have confidence in the
enlightened liberality of their fellow-citizens. But of
the degree in which this object would commend itself
to their good offices, they are not prepared to determine. It is, however, obvious, that if the competition be determined by capital, this institution may as
well decline it at the outset.
A second method of relieving the institution from
its present embarrassments has been proposed, suggested from the view which your committee has been
led to take by the present condition of collegiate education in New England.  If it be the fact that our
colleges cannot sustain themselves, but are obliged to
make repeated calls upon the benevolence of the community, not because the  community is poor and
education inordinately expensive, but because, instead
of attempting to furnish scientific and literary instruction to every class of our people, they have furnished
it only to a single class, and that by far the least
numerous; if they are furnishing an education for
which there is no remunerative, but even at the present low prices, a decreasing demand; if they are, not
by intention, but practically, excluding the vastly
larger portion of the community from advantages in
which they would willingly participate, and are thus
accomplishing but a fraction of the good which is
manifestly within their power, then it would seem
that relief must be expected from a radical change of
the system of collegiate instruction. We must carefilly survey the wants of the various classes of the




51
community in our own vicinity, and adapt our courses
of instruction, not for the benefit of one class, but
for the benefit of all classes. The demand for general
education in our country is pressing and universal.
The want of that science, which alone can lay the
foundation of eminent success in the useful arts, is extensively felt. The proportion of our young men who
are devoting themselves to the productive professions,
is great and annually increasing. They all need such
an education as our colleges, with some modifications
in their present system, could very easily supply. Is
there not reason to believe that, if such an education
were furnished, they would cheerfully avail themselves
of it?
Were an institution established with the intention
of adapting its instruction to the wants of the whole
community, its arrangements would be made in harmony with the following principles.
1. The present system of adjusting collegiate study
to a fixed term of four years, or to any other term,
must be abandoned, and every student be allowed,
within limits to be determined by statute, to carry on,
at the same time, a greater or less number of courses
as he may choose.
2. The time allotted to each particular course of
instruction would be determined by the nature of the
course itself, and not by its supposed relation to the
wants of any particular profession.
3. The various courses should be so arranged, that,
in so far as it is practicable, every student might study
what he chose, all that he chose, and nothing but
what he chose. The Faculty, however, at the request




of a parent or guardian, should have authority  to
assign to any student, such courses as they might
deem for his advantage.
4. Every course of instruction, after it has been
commenced, should be continued without interruption
until it is completed.
5. In addition to the present courses of instruction,
such should be established as the wants of the various classes of the community require.
6. Every student attending any particular course,
should be at liberty to attend any other that he may
desire.
7. It would be required that no student be admitted
as a candidate for a degree, unless he had honorably
sustained his examination in such studies as may be
ordained by the corporation; but no student would
be under any obligation to proceed to a degree, unless
he chose.
8. Every student would be entitled to a certificate
of such proficiency as he may have made in every
course that he has pursued.
The courses of instruction to be pursued in this
institution might be as follows:
1. A course of instruction in Latin, occupying two years.
2.    "         "     in Greek,   "        "
3.              "     in three Modern Languages.
4.    "         "     in Pure Mathematics, two years.
5.    "         "     in Mechanics, Optics, and Astronomy,
either with or without Mathematical Demonstrations, I1 years.
6. A course of instruction in Chemistry, Physiology and Geology, 1. years.
7. A course of instruction in the English Language and Rhetoric, one year.




53
8. A course of instruction in Moral and Intellectual Philosophy,
one year.
9. A course of instruction in Political Economy, one term.
10.    "        "      in History, one term.
11.    "        "      in the Science of Teaching.
12.    "        "      on the Principles of Agriculture.
13.  "                 on the Application of Chemistry to
the Arts.
14.    "        "      on the Application of Science to the
Arts.
15.    "        "      in the Science of Law.
Some of these courses would require a lesson or
lecture every working day of the week, others only
two or three in the week. Any professor might be allowed to conduct the studies of more than one course,
if he could do it with advantage to the institution.
Should this idea be adopted, and the instruction
given in this college be arranged on these principles,
it would be seen that opportunity would be afforded
to modify it as as experience should prove desirable.
Some courses may be abridged or abolished, and others
added or extended.  The object of the change would
be to adapt the institution to the wants, not of a class,
but of the whole community.  It by no means is to
be taken for granted, in a country like our own, that
every college is to teach the same studies, and to the
same extent. It would be far better that each should
consult the wants of its own locality, and do that
best, for which it possessed the greatest facilities.
Here would arise opportunity for diversified forms of
excellence; the knowledge most wanted would the
more easily become diffused, and the general progress
of science would receive an important impulse fiom
every institution of learning in our land.




54
It may be proper here to indicate the manner in
which, as your committee believes, the plan proposed
would relieve the embarrassments of the institution.
In explaining their views on this part of the subject, it is not pretended, that with any plan that can
be devised, in the present condition of New England,
this can be wholly a self-supporting institution. Education is afforded at all our colleges so far below cost,
that, at cost price, it is doubtful whether it could be
disposed of. The college is far from supporting itself
now. Unless it receives some aid, it cannot be carried
on. The inquiry which we have felt it to be our duty
to make, has been this: In what manner, at the least
expense to its friends, can it be put in a condition to
support itself?  It has seemed to your committee,
that in no other way can this result be arrived at,
than by extending its advantages to every class of the
community, and thus increasing the number of its
pupils. The more it can do for itself, the less need its
friends do for it.
That such a change as is here proposed, would add
to the number of its pupils, seems to your committee
probable, for several reasons.
1. The course of instruction will, it is hoped, present a better preparation for the learned professions,
than that pursued at present.  There is no reason,
therefore, why this class of pupils should be diminished.
2. Opportunity would be afforded to those who
wished to pursue a more generous course of profes.
sional education, to remain in college profitably for
five or six years, instead of four, as at present.




55
3. Many young men who intend to enter the professions, are unwilling or unable to spend four years
in the preparatory studies of college. They would,
however, cheerfully spend one or two years in such
study, if they were allowed to select such branches of
science as they chose.  This class would probably
form an important addition to our numbers, and we
should thus, in some degree, improve the education of
a large portion of all the professions.
4. If we except the ancient languages, there are but
few of the studies now pursued in college, which, if
well taught, would not be attractive to young men preparing for any of the active departments of life. If
these several courses were so arranged as to be easily
accessible to intelligent young men of all classes,
it may reasonably be expected that many will desire
to spend a term, a year, or two years, under our instruction.
5. It is not probable that the courses of instruction
in agriculture, or chemistry, or science applied to the
arts, will, of necessity, occupy all the time of the
student. Many of these persons will probably desire
to avail themselves of the advantages so easily placed
in their power.  Another source of demand for the
courses in general science would thus be created.
Should these expectations be realized, it will be
perceived that the addition to our numbers will come
from  classes who now  receive no benefit whatever
from the college system, as it at present exists. Our
numbers would thus be increased without diminishing the number of students in other colleges in New
England; and we should be carrying the blessings of




56
scientific and literary education to portions of society
from which they have thus far been practically excluded.
Perhaps it may not be inappropriate to add, that if
the above views be correct, any college in our country
now  able to support itself, might easily adopt, to a
considerable extent, the system we have ventured to
recommend.  Its means now are, its funds and its fees
for tuition. It is not supposed that the number of its
students could be diminished by offering its advantages to vastly larger classes of the community. Supposing its numbers to be the same, it would have the
same means of support as at present.  There would
seem, therefore, to be no particular risk in trying the
experiment, since its resources will be increased by
every student that it may attract from those classes of
society that now yield it no income.
If reasons need be offered  for attempting  the
changes in our collegiate system  that have been here
indicated, the following will readily suggest themselves.
1. IT IS JUST.- Every man who is willing to pay
for them, has a right to all the means which other
men enjoy, for cultivating his mind by discipline,
and enriching it with science. It is therefore unjust,
either practically or theoretically, to restrict the means
of this cultivation and discipline to one class, and
that the smallest class in the community.
If every man who is willing to pay for them, has
an equal right to the benefits of education, every man
has a special right to that kind of education which




57
will be of the greatest value to him in the prosecution
of useful industry.  It is therefore eminently unjust,
practically to exclude the largest classes of the community from an opportunity of acquiring that knowledge, the  possession of which is of inestimable
importance, both to national progress and individual
success.  And yet we have in this country, one hundred and twenty colleges, forty-two theological seminaries, and forty-seven law schools, and we have not a
single institution designed to furnish the agriculturist,
the manufacturer, the mechanic, or the merchant with
the education that will prepare him for the profession
to which his life is to be devoted.
Our institutions of learning have generally been
endowed by the wealth of the productive classes of
society. It is surely unjust that a system should be
universally adopted, which, practically, excludes them
from the benefits which they have conferred upon
others.
2. IT IS EXPEDIENT. — The moral conditions being
equal, the progress of a nation in wealth, happiness,
and refinement, is measured by the universality of its
knowledge of the laws of nature, and its skill in
adapting these laws to the purposes of man.  Civilization is advancing, and it can only advance in the
line of the useful arts. It is, therefore, of the greatest national importance to spread broadcast over the
community, that knowledge, by which  alone the
useful arts can be multiplied and perfected. Every
producer, who labors in his art scientifically, is the
best of all experimenters; and he is, of all men, the
8




most likely, by discovery, to add to our knowledge of
the laws of nature. He is, also, specially the individual most likely to invent the means by which
those laws shall be subjected to the service of man.
Of the truth of these remarks, every one must be
convinced, who will observe the success to which any
artisan arrives, who, fortunately, by his own efforts,
(for at present he could do it in no other way,) has
attained to a knowledge of the principles which govern
the process in which he is employed.
Suppose that, since the Revolution, as much capital
and talent had been employed in diffusing among all
classes of society, the knowledge of which every class
stands in need, as has been employed in inculcating
the knowledge needed in preparation for the professions, is it possible to estimate the benefits which
would have been conferred upon our country? The
untold millions that have been wasted by ignorance,
would have been now actively employed in production. A knowledge universally diffused of the laws
of vegetation, might have doubled our annual agricultural products.  Probably no country on earth
can boast of as intelligent a class of mechanics and
manufacturers, as our own. Had a knowledge of
principles been generally diffused among them, we
should already have outstripped Europe in all those
arts which increase the comforts, or multiply the
refinements of human life. Perhaps, in the earlier
history of our country, such knowledge would not
have been adequately  appreciated.  That period,
however, has now  passed away. An impulse has
been given to common school education, which can



59
not but render every man definitely sensible of his
wants, and consequently eager to supply them.  The
time then would seem  to have arrived, when our
institutions of learning are called upon to place
themselves in harmony with the advanced and rapidly
advancing condition of society.
3. IT IS NECESSARY. - To us, it seems that but
little option is left to the colleges in this matter.
Any one who will observe the progress which, within
the last thirty years, has been made by the productive
classes of society, in power, wealth, and influence,
must be convinced that a system of education, practically restricted to a class vastly smaller, and rapidly
decreasing in influence, cannot possibly continue.
Within a few years, the manufacturing interest has
wrung the corn laws from the aristocracy of Great
Britain.  Let any one recall the relative position of
the professions, and of the mercantile and manufacturing interests, in any of our cities, twenty years
since, and compare it with their relative position now,
and he cannot but be convinced, that a great and a
progressive change has taken place. Men who do
not design to educate their sons for the professions,
are capable of determining upon the kind of instruction which they need.  If the colleges will not
furnish it, they are able to provide it themselves; and
they will provide it. In New York and Massachusetts, incipient measures have been taken for establishing agricultural colleges.  The bill before the
legislature of New York, provides for instruction in
all the branches taught in our colleges, with the




60
exception of languages.  It is to be, in fact, an
institution for giving all the education which we now
give, agricultural science being substituted for Latin
and Greek.  What is proposed to be done for the
farmers, must soon be done either for or by the manufacturers and merchants. In this manner, each productive department will have its own school, in which
its own  particular branch of knowledge will be
taught, besides the other ordinary studies of a liberal
education.  A large portion of the instruction communicated will thus be the same in all. Mathematics,
Mechanics, Chemistry, Physiology, Rhetoric, Moral
and Intellectual Philosophy, and Political Economy,
will be taught in them all. The colleges teach precisely the same sciences, with the addition of Latin and
Greek, in the place of the knowledge designed in
these separate schools, for a particular profession.
If the prestige of colleges should be thus destroyed,
and it be found that as good an education as they
furnish, can be obtained  in  any of those  other
schools, the number of their students will be seriously
diminished.  If, by this dissemination  of science
among all the other classes of society, the tendency
towards the professions should be still farther arrested, the colleges will be deserted by yet larger
numbers.  They may become very good foundations
for the support of instructors, but very few will be
found to avail themselves of their instructions.
Is not such a result as this to be deplored?  Is it
desirable that so many teachers should be employed
in teaching  precisely the same things   All the
branches of general science, taught in any one gen



61
erous school, must be taught in them  all.  The
colleges already have existing arrangements for teaching them.  They are, to a considerable extent, supplied with libraries, apparatus, and all the means of
instruction.  Would it not seem desirable, that they
should so far modify their system, as to furnish all
the instruction  needed  by the various classes of
society, who desire special professional teaching, and
so arrange their courses of general knowledge, that
all, of every class, may, with equal facility, avail
themselves of their advantages. In this manner the
colleges will reap all the benefit arising from  the
diffusion and progress of knowledge.  Pursuing any
other course, they would seem to suffer injury from
one of the most hopeful indications of the progress
of civilization.
But two subjects remain to be considered by your
committee.  They are, the relations which, under such
a system, would exist between the corporation and the
officers of instruction; and the subject of academical
degrees.
The relation existing at present between the corporation and the instructors in our colleges, so far as it
can be gathered from pretty constant practice, is substantially the following:
The corporation pledge themselves to the public to
furnish all the instruction which is generally demanded,
in order to qualify a student for the degree of Bachelor
of Arts.  They appoint professors for life, who are to
give this instruction, and they hold themselves responsible to furnish the professors with an adequate support; they themselves, by theory, observing from time




62
to time whether their intentions are adequately fulfilled. If an officer's salary be insufficent for his support,
be the number of students greater or less, both he
and the public may justly charge the corporation with
injustice; and corporations are frequently so charged,
though they have already distributed every dollar of
income over which they have any control.
It will at once appear, that if an extended and
various system of education, such as has been indicated above, be adopted, the relation of the parties to
each other must be made more simple and definite.
The corporation cannot pretend aly longer to hold
themselves responsible for the support of every professor; nor can they pretend to oversee him in the
discharge of his duty. They have really no means of
supporting an instructor, except those derived from
the funds committed to their charge by the public.
These they can appropriate on some equitable principle to each professorship. The officer who accepts of
a professorship will then be entitled to whatever income is attached to it, and he will look to his fees for
instruction for the remainder of his compensation.
Like every other man, the instructor will be brought
directly in contact with the public, and his remuneration will be made to depend distinctly upon his industry and skill in his profession.
The corporation would thus be responsible for the
support of the officer of instruction, only to the amount
of the funds under its control. It would furnish every
instructor with a lecture room, the necessary apparatus, and the use of the library, holding every individual
separately responsible for the condition of all the pub



63
lic property intrusted to his care. In the universities
on the continent of Europe, it is always held, that, in
case a professor does not justify the expectations of
the public, the government is at liberty, without
removing such incumbent, to appoint another in the
same department.  It deserves to be considered whether such power might be advantageously reserved by
the visitors of colleges in this country. It is also
found, in other countries, to be of great advantage,
to allow any person, of suitable character and qualifications, to teach in a university any branch of science
in which he may excel. In this manner every enterprising young man, endowed with a talent for teaching, has the opportunity of making known to the
public his qualifications; and teaching is thus placed
in the same condition as the other professions. WVhether this plan might not be adopted here, will deserve
the attention of the corporation.
AVe proceed, in the last place, to consider the subject of academical degrees.
The interest which attaches to this part of the subject of collegiate education, is certainly deserving of
remark.  Many persons have feared that if any change
were introduced into the present system, it would lead
to the abolition of degrees altogether. Others have
feared that the requirements for a degree would be
reduced. Many, on the other hand, have earnestly
hoped that some change would be adopted, by which,
in consequence of the admission of equivalent studies,
the benefit of a degree might be extended to a much
greater number.  No one affirms that the present
system of conferring degrees is either just, or in favor




64
with the most enlightened portion of the public; yet
every one fears the consequences of a change, and
hence, no one is prepared to state definitely the precise
change which he is willing to approve. At one time
it would seem as if the conferring of degrees was the
great object for which colleges were established; at
another, we should suppose that all degrees, from
D. D. downwards, were a fit subject for universal
ridicule.
The reason of this anomalous and contradictory
state of public opinion may be easily explained. The
conferring of academical degrees is governed by no
general principles whatever. It rests upon precedent
entirely, and the precedents are continually conflicting
with each other.  The public has but very scanty
means for forming a consistent opinion on the subject,
and it is not surprising that its opinions should be
vague and unsatisfactory even to itself. Under these
circumstances, it may be useful to consider the subject
somewhat more attentively than its real merits might
seem to deserve.
Let us first, then, inquire, What is an academical
degree.
An academical degree is the right to append to
one's name the letters A. B., A. M., D. D., or LL. D.
As, however, the two latter are conferred without
examination, it will not be necessary to consider them
in this place. We shall therefore confine our remarks
to the degrees of A. B. and A. M., or those generally
conferred in course.
It will naturally be asked, what advantage is derived
from the right to append to a person's name these or




65
any other capital letters?  In other words, what do
these letters thus used really signify? To this question
several answers may be returned.
First, the degrees of Bachelor and Master of Arts,
originally conferred the right to teach in the University.
This was the special object for which they were conferred.  "The university was governed, the university
was taught, by the graduates at large.  Professor,
master, doctor, were originally synonymous.  Every
graduate had an equal right of teaching publicly, in
the university, the subjects competent to his faculty
and to the rank of his degree; nay, every graduate
incurred the obligation of teaching publicly, for a
certain period, the subjects of his faculty; for such
was the condition involved in the grant of the degree
itself. The Bachelor, or imperfect graduate, partly as
an exercise towards the higher honor, and useful to
himself, partly as a performance due for the degree
obtained, and of advantage to others, was bound to
read, under a master or doctor in his faculty, a course
of lectures, and the master, doctor, or perfect graduate,
was, in like manner, after his promotion, obliged immediately to commence, (incipere,) and to continue for
a certain period publicly to teach, (regere,) some at least
of the subjects pertaining to his faculty."     It was
also common, originally, to confer special degrees
either apart from, or in subordination to, the general
degree. " Thus in Oxford special degrees were granted
in grammar, rhetoric, and music."t
*   dinburgh Review, June, 1831.  d -lil.
tl




66
Such was the original signification of a degree in
the arts. It conferred the right, and it incurred the
obligation to teach publicly in the university by which
it was bestowed.  All this, however, has long since
passed away.  In this country, formerly, in some of
the States, the possession of a degree diminished, by
several years, the time prescribed by law for the study
of some of the professions.  This also, we believe,
has become obsolete, and all the privileges of the
graduate are, with us, mere privileges by courtesy.
Secondly. What are the privileges accorded by
courtesy to a degree in the arts?
1. A degree is in some manner the badge of an
arbitrary social distinction, by means of which, the
man who wears it, without inquiry into his merits, is
supposed to take rank of another man who does not
wear it. In this respect it is analogous to knighthood,
or any other title not hereditary, in Great Britain.
Viewed in this light, its effect is two-fold. It keeps
alive, to a certain degree, an attachment to the place
of a graduate's education, and, in some sort, pledges
him to foster the interests of science and literature.
Wearing the badge of an educated man, he is ashamed
not to be found on the side of education and all liberal
learning.  On the other hand, by creating a distinction too often founded on no difference, it grates
harshly on the feelings of intelligent and well educated men, who, without the advantages of a collegiate
education, have in their actual attainments far surpassed the greater number of graduates.  No rightminded man is displeased at witnessing honor confer



67
red upon desert.  Rank, arbitrarily conferred, is, on
the other hand, very commonly looked upon with
displeasure.
2. A degree is held to be a certificate of a definite
amount of attainment in the sciences taught in college. Were this its real significancy, that is, did the
sign accurately correspond to the thing signified, it
would be a well earned, and therefore a proper distinction. But it is universally affirmed that this is
not the case. It is said, that out of the number of
our graduates in this country, many cannot translate
their diploma; others are ignorant of the elementary
principles of mechanics; nay, that many of them
cannot write the English language correctly. Nor is
this complaint peculiar to this country. It is universally urged in Europe, as well as in America, that
academical degrees actually signify nothing; that they
are conferred alike upon the deserving and the undeserving; and hence the sentiment has become very
general, that some change in this respect is required,
though there is no agreement as to the manner in
which this change shall be made.
Such, then, is a degree, and such is the privilege
which it confers. It will aid us in our inquiry, to
refer briefly to the conditions on which this honor has
been bestowed.
What are the statutory requirements which have
governed colleges and universities in the conferring
of degrees?  In this respect, the precedents conflict
greatly with each other. Each university has adopted
its own rules, and has prescribed for the candidate




68
such studies, and such a degree of proficiency in them,
as it chose. In Oxford, for instance, by statute, the
candidate for the degree of A. B. must reside in the
university four years, and attend lectures during the
first year, on Grammar and Rhetoric; during the second, on Logic and Moral Philosophy; during the third
and fourth, on Logic, Moral Philosophy, Geometry
and Greek.*  All this, however, has in fact long been
abolished, and, until within a year or two, almost the
only examinations necessary to be sustained, were those
in Latin and Greek. Mathematics has, in this university, ever received but small attention.  A writer in
the London Athenaeum in January last, informs us,
"That, notwithstanding the admitted importance of the
Mathematics to qualify the candidate for holding the
majority of public situations, the papers tell us that the
number of candidates for mathematical honors, at the
last examination at Oxford, amounted to five only,"
and " that no greater amount of proficiency is required
for securing a fourth class, the usual honor, than
ability to solve a quadratic equation." t In Cambridge,
on the other hand, the highest honors are awarded to
mathematics, and but small attainments in the languages are required of the candidate.  Each of these
universities fixes its own standard, irrespective of the
practice of the other.  "Thus," says a late writer on
this subject, " We have seen high wranglers," (Cambridge men,) "who could not, for the life of them, have
* Edinburgh Review, June, 1831.
f Athenmum, Jan. 1850, p. 7'.




69
construed the first chapter of St. John's Gospel; on
the other hand, we have also gazed upon first class
men," (Oxford men,) "who could not have worked out a
rule of three sum, and who would have been perplexed
to explain, how two sides of a triangle were greater
than the third. Beyond this there was little or no
choice." *
If we turn to the universities of Scotland, we find
a different system adopted.  Natural and Moral Philosophy, Logic, and Rhetoric are here generally required; but the amount of languages is comparatively
small. Until quite recently, the study of Greek was
commenced with the alphabet, in all the Northern
Universities. The late Royal Commission strenuously
urged that this practice should be abolished, and that
the Professor of Greek should commence his instruction with the reading of some Greek author.  The
same commissioners propose to raise the requirements
for a degree, and recommended that candidates for
Bachelor of Arts should undergo examinations in the
following studies: -
Latin. -In two decades of Livy, or the Orations of
Cicero, and the whole of Virgil, or Horace, or Juvenal.
Greek. —Three books of Thucydides, or Demosthenes, or Aristotle's Ethics, or Rhetoric in prose, and
in two tragedies of Sophocles, or Euripides; the
candidate having his choice of the authors as above
stated.
Mathematics.    The eleventh and twelfth books of
Ediinburgh Review, April, 1849




70
Euclid, Spherical Trigonometry, Conic Sections, Algebra, including Equations of the higher denominations.
Logic, Natural and MIoral Philosophy.-In these
branches the candidate is to be examined in the subjects of the courses of the several classes.
Such are the statutory requirements for a degree in
Great Britain. It is somewhat remarkable, that we
require the candidate for a degree to be examined in
twice or thrice as many studies as any other universities in the world. In this college, for instance, no
student can be presented as a candidate for a degree,
unless he have sustained his examinations satisfactorily in all the studies of the whole course. He must,
therefore, have been examined as follows:
In Latin; Livy, Cicero, Horace, Terence, Tacitus,
and Juvenal.
In Greek; Xenophon, Historia and Memorabilia,
Herodotus or Thucydides, Euripides or Sophocles,
Homer, and lEschylus.
In liathematics; Geometry, plane and solid, Algebra, Trigonometry, plane and spherical, Mensuration,
Surveying, Navigation, Nautical Astronomy, and
Analytical Geometry.
In Natural Philosophy; Mechanics, Pneumatics,
Hydrostatics, Optics, and Astronomy.
In Physical Science; Chemistry, Physiology, animal and vegetable, and Geology.
In Rhetoric and Logic, Intellectual and Moral
Philosophy, Political Economy, History, and Butler's
Analogy, in the French language, and sometimes
the German.




71
It is, therefore, obvious, that the statutory requirements are governed by no general rule, and that we,
in New  England, insist upon requirements never
thought of in any other country.  There has not,
probably, been a first class man in either Oxford or
Cambridge for a century, who could sustain an examination in one half of the studies required of the
candidate for a degree in one of our New England
colleges.  And, on the other hand, none, even of
our highest scholars, could sustain the examinations
required of a senior wrangler or first class man in
these universities.
Such are the statutes.  In the manner in which
the statutes are obeyed, there is a much greater
similarity. Although, theoretically, the English universities require  high  attainments, either in  the
classics or mathematics, yet, practically, the degree
alone, that is, "without honors," is conferred on the
ground of very small acquisition.  "A little arithmetic, a couple of books of Euclid, and Paley's Evidences, comprised all that was required for a B. A.
degree.  Oxford was in this respect even worse than
Cambridge." *   Such  is affirmed  to be the practical requirements for a  degree  in  the English
universities.  This is, however, as we have said,
for a degree  without distinction or special honor.
For honors, men must have made decided and most
honorable acquisition, either in the classics or mathematics.
* Edinburgh Review, April, 1849.




In the Northern Universities, comparatively few of
the students take degrees. But it is stated by the
Royal Commission, that for the degree, very little, if
any, examination is required. The certificate of having attended the prescribed course of instruction, is
held to be sufficient evidence of attainment, and the
degree, if desired, is granted as a matter of course.
With us, the student is examined at the close of
every term, and if he, at the proper times, sustains
his examinations, he is admitted  to a degree in
course. In general, it may be taken for granted, that
unless a young man be remarkably dull or incorrigibly negligent, if he enters college and pursues
the prescribed course to its close, he will be admitted
to the degree of A. B. The diversity of attainment is
not, perhaps, as great as may be found in the British
universities; we make none so good scholars, we
graduate few quite so destitute of scholarship; but
our range is certainly great enough to show a wide
departure from the statutory provisions.
If we should ask, what, among all these conflicting
precedents, comes the nearest to a general requirement, we must answer, that it is a residence of four
years, and the payment of the college bills.  This
seems to be demanded in all cases, while the amount
of statutory and of practical requirement is as great
as can easily be imagined.  Degrees are given to
candidates of almost every grade of attainment, but
never unless the student has made out a given term
of residence, and paid the requisite fees.
Amidst this conflict of precedents and principles,




73
what shall we do? Shall we follow the example of
Oxford, and give degrees simply for attainments in
the classics; or of Cambridge, and confer them for
excellence in the mathematics? Or shall we adopt
the curriculum of the Scottish Universities, which
approaches nearer to our own?  Or shall we continue to require examinations in twice or thrice as
many studies as any other universities in the civilized
world? To either of these courses substantial objections could be urged.
If any equitable rule could be applied to this case,
it would be this, that a degree of A. B. should signify the possession of a certain amount of knowledge, and  A. M. of a certain  other amount in
addition. But what shall this amount be?  If we
mean that our instruction shall be exact, and adapted
to the purposes of mental discipline, the number of
studies must be reduced. Suppose, then, we select
those that shall designate the amount of knowledge
required in a candidate for a degree. This, however,
will form but a portion of the studies taught in the
university. There may be other branches of knowledge out of this course, as valuable, and as truly
knowledge, as those included within it. Some of
those not in the first course may be substituted for
those within it.  By adopting in this manner a
system  of equivalents, we may confer degrees upon
a given amount of knowledge, though the kind of
knowledge which makes up this amount may differ
in different instances. Thus, for instance, suppose a
course should be prescribed containing a given amount
10




74
of Latin, Greek, Mathematics, and Natural and Moral
and Intellectual Philosophy, and Rhetoric, as the
basis of requirement for degrees. In  determining
upon equivalent courses, a certain amount of some
other study might compensate for Latin, or Greek,
as a certain amount of some other study might be a
compensation for the higher mathematics, or intellectual philosophy, and so of the rest. An arrangement of this kind would seem just, and to us it seems
not to be impracticable.
The objection that would arise to this plan, would
probably be its effect upon the classics.  It will be
said, that we should thus diminish the amount of
study bestowed on Latin and Greek.  To this the
reply is easy. If, by placing Latin and Greek upon
their own merits, they are unable to retain their
present place in the education of civilized and Christianized man, then let them give place to something
better.  They have, by right, no preeminence over
other studies, and it is absurd to claim it for them.
But we go further. In our present system we devote
some six or seven years to the compulsory study of
the classics.  Besides innumerable  academies, we
have one hundred and twenty colleges, in which, for
a large part of the time, classical studies occupy the
labors of the student. And what is the fruit?  How
many of these students read either classical Greek
or Latin after they leave college?  If, with all this
labor, we fail to imbue our young men with a love
for the classics, is there any reason to fear that any
change will render their position less advantageous.




75
Is there not reason to hope, that by rendering this
study less compulsory, and allowing those who have
a taste for it to devote themselves more thoroughly to
classical reading, we shall raise it from its present
depression, and derive from it all the benefit which it
is able to confer?
In view of these facts and arguments, the committee
have arrived at the following conclusions.
1. This college cannot, under any circumstances,
be long sustained without large addition to its funds.
2. In the present condition of collegiate education
in New Elngland, it is not probable that addition to
its funds would increase the number of its students,
unless large provision were also made for gratuitous
tuition.
3. Such funds might attract students from other
colleges, but would do little either to increase the
aggregate number of educated men, or to extend the
advantages of education to those classes of the community which do not now enjoy them.
4. There is reason to hope that the same amount of
funds which would be necessary to sustain the college
under the present system, might, if the system were
modified in the manner above suggested, add greatly
to the number of students, and, at the same time, confer inestimable advantages on every class of society.
The committee, therefore, recommend to the corporation the adoption of the following resolutions.
Resolved, that the system of instruction in Brown
University be modified and extended in the manner




76
indicated in the above Report, as soon as the sum of
$125,000 can be added to its present funds.
Resolved, that                  be authorized to
carry the proposed changes into effect, by perfecting
the details and completing the necessary arrangements
previously, if possible, to the commencement of the
next collegiate year.
All which is respectfully submitted.
For the committee,
F. WAYLANI), Chairman.
BROWN UNIVERSITY,
MARCH 27, 1850.