Vol. I. 
 
 l>r. (JaiiK's Phillips. 
 
 Tlu'i't' arc many among the pupils uf tlic 
 late Dr. PliillipHtu be fouiul in every Soutli- 
 crn and Western State, wlio will feel a deep 
 interest in liis personal history. I know, 
 therefore, Ih at I will render an aece])table 
 siTvice to a considerable portion of your 
 readers'by sketching while they are fresh 
 in my memory, some of the leading inci- 
 deut!'* of his life. 
 
 Dr. Phillips rarely referred, in eonversa- 
 lioii, to himself, and few beyond lus own 
 iainily are familiar with the events of his 
 early history. He was born at Nevendon, 
 I'.ssex comity, on the 22nd of April, 1792, 
 and at the time of his death, March 14, 18(i7, 
 wanted little more than a month of comple- 
 ting the seventy-fifth year of his age. He 
 was the third son of Kev. Richard and Su- 
 fian ^Nleade Phillii)s. His father was a min- 
 ister of the Established Churc'i of England, 
 and attached to the Evangelical party in 
 that Church, nundjering among his friends 
 such men as Henry Veuve and John Ber- 
 ridge. He removed, when James was seven 
 years old, to tStafford-Roche, Cornwall, 
 jwhere he contityed rector of that parish un- 
 til his death, about 18;'7. 
 
 ■James Phillips, in company with an older 
 brother, Samuel A. Phillips., now a resident 
 I if New York City, came to America in the 
 year 18] ^i, and engaged in the business of 
 teaching, at Harlem, Is . Y., -where he soon 
 had a fi<nirishsng school. In 1821 he mar 
 ried Julia A^ermeule, daughter of a New 
 .Icrsey f:irmer of good family. Her brother^ 
 V, 
 
 ^ 
 
 No. 4. 
 
 lleVi Cornelius C. W rmcule, I). I)., was for 
 many years pastor of the Reformed Dutch 
 Church in Harlaem. In 182(), Dr. Phillips 
 competed successfully foi' the chair of ^latli- 
 enuitics and Natural Philosojihy in the I'li- 
 j iversity of North Carolina, and arrive<l in 
 1 Cqapel Hill, the seat of tlie I'ni versify, in 
 May, 182(;. President Caldweil wa- then 
 I in the fifty-fourth year of his age, in (he 
 full po.sse.ssion of remarkal)le physical and 
 mental energy. Prof. Phillips was in his 
 thirty. fourth year. Dr. Mitchell, the Sen- 
 ior Professor of Chemistry, and Dr. Hoopcj', 
 Professor of Jllietoric and Logic, were korn 
 in the same year with Dr. Phillips. Pi'of 
 -Andrews, subso([nently the eminent lexicng- 
 rapher, was then Professor of Ancient, and 
 j I'rof. Hentz (husband of the celebrated au- 
 I thoress, Mrs Caroline Lee Hentz) was Pro- 
 fessor of Modern Ijanguages. The Rev. Di'. 
 Hoo))er is now the oi^ly survivor of that 
 l)and of eminent men who, forty years ago, 
 constituted the Faculty of our l^jiiversity. 
 The history of Dr. Phillips' forty years' 
 ■ work will best be given in connection with 
 a general history of our 1 Diversity and 
 . State, which will, we hope, (m-c long be pre- 
 pared by competent hands. Those years of 
 his life were years of close study, of hai'd 
 work and of singular devotion to the duticis 
 ihat lay before him. It is no disparage- 
 ment to any of his col leagues in tlic I'aculty 
 to say that, in un\'ai'ying punctuality and 
 fidelity in every relation,, and in the dis- 
 charge of every duty, great or small, nom,' 
 could compare w ith him. The lives of few 
 teachers, in this, or any other country can 
 
 Chapel Hill, N. C, May, 1882. 
 
52 , CONTB 
 
 present such a record. 
 
 Dr. Phillips was an inexorable mathema- 
 tician. Had he ever a pupil who will not 
 bear the same testimony, with the addition 
 that he never knew a man of sterner integ- 
 rity or more unflinching courage? not mere- 
 ly physical — for this is no uncommon trait 
 — but moral courage ? He shrank from no 
 duty imposed on him by his office, either as 
 professor or as minister in the Church of 
 God. And, while he never swerved a hair's 
 breadth from the undevi at in u' line of recti- 
 tude which he marked out for liimself, ei- 
 their to conciliate favor or deprecate cen- 
 sure, no man has ever secured a larger share 
 of affectionate veneration in the liearts of 
 all who knew him; He was emphatically a 
 gentleman of the old scliool iii manners, in 
 religious belief, and in most of Ids forms of 
 thought. While he rejected no new theo- 
 ries simnly because they were new, he em- 
 braced none without careful examination 
 and thorough conviction of their worth. 
 His favorite religious reading lay among 
 the old non-conformist divines ; his favorite 
 authors were tlie i»ld Englisli classics ; the 
 book that was oilenest in his liand was the 
 oldest of all — the Bible. AN'itlicnit entering 
 farther into the delineation of his charac- 
 ter, which will receive a more elaborate sur- 
 vey than I have at present, time or disposi- 
 tion to make, I may mention that among 
 numerous testimonials to the value and ef- 
 ficiency of his method of instruction in his 
 own 'department of science, was a letter from 
 Lieutenant Maury, while at the head of the 
 national observatory. He ha<l liad succes- 
 sively two of Dr. Phillips' pupils {(Jeneral 
 Pettigrew and Captain A. W. Lawrence) as 
 assistants, and he applied to secure a third 
 as instructor for his own children, stating 
 that he desired them to have the benefit of 
 the same training which had rendered his 
 assistants such ready and accurate mathe- 
 maticians. 
 
 HoAv often has Dr. Phillips in early life 
 responded to his own father in his church, 
 in the beautiful and expressive language of 
 the English Litany, "From battle and mur- 
 
 TBVTIONS. [May 
 
 j der, and from sudden death, Good Lord de- 
 liver us ! " I have sometimes thought that 
 the last of the events was, under some cir- 
 
 j cumstances, rather to be coveted than dread- 
 ed. "The chamber where the good man 
 meets his fate is privileged beyond the com- 
 mon walks of virtuous life — just on the 
 verge of heaven." This was Dr. Caldwell's 
 case. He died the victina of excrutiating 
 and lingering disease, with his wife and 
 friends to witness the calmness and compos- 
 ure, the faith and triumph of his closing 
 hour. His senior professor. Dr. Mitchell, 
 perished instantaneously in one of the wild- 
 est and most inaccessible gorges of the Al- 
 leglianies, and reposes on the loftiest sum- 
 mit of the continent, east of the Rocky 
 ^Mountains. Who that knew him jiersonal- 
 ly would have desired a different termina- 
 tion of his active existence ? Xot less start- 
 ling and remarkable was the departure of 
 his venerated friend and colleague, Dr. Phil- 
 lips. On the temi^estuous morning of the 
 
 I 14th, a little before nine o'clock, with his 
 accustomed, almost constitutional punctual- 
 ity, in despite of the entreaties of his young- 
 est child, he set out in the rain to officiate 
 
 - at morning prayers. He arrived at the 
 chapel as usual, in advanc2 of the ringing 
 of the Ih'11, and took his accustomed seat 
 immediately behind the reading-desk. 
 What were his thoughts or feelings during 
 that walk, and as he sat there a few min- 
 utes alone, can be known only to his God. 
 The first student who entered the chapel af- 
 ter the bell commenced ringing bowed to 
 
 ■ him and spoke. The salutation not being 
 returned, he advanced toward him, and per- 
 
 . ceived him in the act of falling from his 
 s3at. He dropped to the floor in the pre- 
 cise spot where, for so many years, he had 
 so often and so fervently prayed for the ris- 
 ing generation that surrounded him. Dr. 
 Mallett was almost immediately there, but 
 in ten minutes he had ceased to breathe. 
 Surrounded by the whole body of students, 
 in the arms of one of them, he went to his 
 eternal rest without a jiang or a struggle, 
 I and in sad and solemn procession was borne 
 
1S82.] 
 
 ( ONTBIB VTTO XH. 
 
 l)y them and his colleagues in the Faculty 
 to his residence and laid down in his library 
 among his books ; his manuscript sermon 
 in preparation for next Sabbath lying open 
 on his table, just as he had left it. There 
 the veteran who had dropped at his jiost 
 lay with the peace of God uj)on his noble 
 l)row, having heard the summons, " Come 
 up higher," and received the Avord, " Well 
 ilone. " He walked with God and was not, 
 for God took him. 
 
 Had Dr. Phillips been permitted to choose 
 the time, place and manner of his depart- 
 ure, I do not doubt he would have chosen 
 thus. His most frequent petition in family 
 prayer of late had been, "Let me be useful 
 as long as I live, and let me die in thy ser- 
 vice." He had a dread of an old age length- 
 ened out in weakness and infirmity. And 
 his Master gave his old servant what he de- 
 sired. At his post, with his harness on, 
 Avith his recitation-room key and "Pierce's 
 Plane and Solid Geometry" in his hand, 
 ])repared to begin his day's work Avith pray- 
 er, the last sound in his ears the familiar 
 tones of the college bell, the last sight the 
 students assembling for Avorship, he passed 
 away. A better, braver, nobler man I have 
 neA'er knoAvn. 
 
 He preached his last sermon in the Pres- 
 byterian Church on Sunday, the 10th, from 
 the text Amos v. 6, and heard the recita- 
 tions of the Junior, Sophomore and Fresh- 
 man classes on the two succeeding days. 
 The evening before his death I Avalked homo 
 Avith him from the chapel after prayei's, and 
 saw him stop to pluck a flower from the 
 campus shrubbery to carry his little grand- 
 daughter. 
 
 On Saturday morning, March liis re- 
 mains Avere carried to the college chapel, 
 Avhich Avas draped in black, and after a 
 short and singularly appropriate address by 
 Professor Hepburn, he Avas laid aAvay in the 
 graveyard near his grandchildren Avho had 
 preceded him to heaven. — Letter from Hon. 
 1). L. Strain, LL. T)., to the North ( 'tiroU)ia 
 Presbyterian, March 27, 1867. 
 
 .Tohanu Wolfgaiiji' Cioetlio. 
 
 Several centuries ago there might have 
 been seen a lonely man Avending his solitary 
 Avay doAvn the Alps towards the plains of 
 the Tiber. He had escaped to tell the 
 haughty emperor of Rome that the barbar- 
 ian Hermann had routed and slain his ar- 
 my. An event that forboded ill to Rome, 
 but glory to man. The ad\^antage Avas mo- 
 mentarj- — only a stray beam, Avhich Avas 
 soon lost to the eager Teutonic. Roman 
 influence continued. They gave the peo- 
 ple their morals, habits, manners, govern- 
 ment and religion. It cost Luther many a 
 bitter i^ang to stem the tide and bring to 
 his wretched countrymen — like Proraethius 
 of old — the fire of free thinking. It requir- 
 I ed the mighty channel of the interregnum 
 for the established order of things to j^ass 
 through. It Avas through this that the 
 cringing servility of (iermany, first toRom^ 
 then to herself, dragged its slow length 
 . along. In Literature, the state of affairs 
 [ Avas, if possible, Avorse. Germany AA'as bu} 
 I a moth that fluttered about the glaring light 
 of Rome — no originality — no taste — no am- 
 bition — Avith a religion that only freezed the 
 fountains of action and of life. Timidly 
 the "stars" rose, twinkled and passed away, 
 smothered by the sodded minds of their 
 countrymen. Voltaire arose — combated the 
 past through its ills — trampled to the dust 
 the gallant feats and progress of man, and 
 boldly asserted the reign of Reason. His 
 influence Avas felt to penetrate alike the 
 royal palac(^s and the humble huts. Hume, 
 Gibbon and Robertson acknowledged him 
 right, and exultingly threw doAvn the gaunt- 
 let to the ('iiristian Avorld. Oceali nor con- 
 tinent staid tlic influence. England could 
 point only to Johnson, who stood alone 
 grand in his firmness but unable to stay the 
 force. In this hour of despair the genius 
 of (ioethe pierced the darkness. Through 
 h'lm the world, heaving with agonizing con- 
 tortions, Avrung out its cry, Avild, passionate 
 and uncontrollable in his Werther. 
 
 Again, he lent his genius to Scott that hp 
 
54: 
 
 COJS^TBIB VTIONS. 
 
 iiiiglit speak to the English world through 
 his (u)ctz 1)011 Bcrlichiiigcii. Byron and 
 Shelley with borrowed lustre did also shine 
 and the taste of the world was purified. 
 
 Enthusiasts may proclaim ^the genius 
 who Avith poetic skill analyzes the throb- 
 bing heart of man, and culls therefrom his 
 niiglity motive poAvers ; but who, like Goe- 
 the, has gently curbed and guided the mind 
 of a nation re\-eling in new-born freedom? 
 
 Wiien the brilliant light of Jefferson's 
 dictum flashed across the waters, growing 
 ill graiuleur and sublimity by ignited France, 
 leaping wildly from spire to hut throughout 
 the "Father-land" — when but a step would 
 have hurled the people into the vortex of 
 anarchy — it was the immortal Goethe, stand- 
 ing aloof and above the edd}-, cried through 
 the melodious strains of his Apocalyptic 
 7'aust, "Peace, be still." 
 
 _ Such being the general tenor and iiiflu- 
 ''iiceofhis works, we will exai]iiue some- 
 what into the life of the man. His career 
 was a varied one, and yet in all the variety, 
 hf' stood by his conservative jirinciples. In 
 lliis age so remarkable for })roiiigacv of 
 taste, Goethe stood firmly by the classic 
 })ast. In its literature hi- found lofty con- 
 ceptions and pure taste; in its history, he 
 found gallant feats of arms, and patriotic 
 and noble statesmanship ; in every depart- 
 ment of art or industry he found perfection 
 to ije the watch-wcrd. It was to excel in 
 conception, taste, diction and execution that 
 tiie poets wrote. It was to eclipse the valor 
 of the contending gods that the Spartan 
 band stood like adamant within their nar- 
 row defile. It was to rival the mellow niur- 
 mui ings of nature that the bard strung his 
 lyre. Goethe knew and felt all this. And 
 yet with such a worthy exemplar, his im- 
 pulsiveness drove him to many seeming ex- 
 cesses. Poets are constitutionally fond of 
 the ladies. Goethe was no exception. At 
 an early age he heeded the gentle wooings of 
 .-acred passion and revelled in his happy 
 fortune. Xo chivalric knight was ever 
 more devoted in his attentions, or indulged , 
 \\\ more romantic cjiis ides. ' 
 
 It was his custom to prove all things. To 
 know in its highest sense was the desire .of 
 his mind. He chased w ith eagerness the 
 magic phantoms of the alchemists,' tiji-niug- 
 only to test some law of nature, or tht:<; 
 depth and tenderness of some Medussa'sP« 
 love. No object was too humble to lea 
 him a lesson. No empty brilliancy could 
 entertain him. From court pageant and 
 glittering show he instinctively turiiedr. 
 This characteristic is plainly given iti NVil-'; 
 helm Meister. The hero neglects every,-' 
 thing to enjoy some literary treat. He 
 worships the grand conceptions in Hamlet. ' 
 
 Goethe was educated for a jiarist ; but; 
 his untamed spirit could not plod.tlje well-' 
 worn tract of Roman lawyers. Nature 
 claimed him as her own. To him she yield- 
 ed up her hidden treasures, as she led him 
 through fields rich with thought that 
 might jjluck therefrom the rarest gems, 
 her he went with his cares aiui sorrows 
 Even in sleep Nature would come Jis hi,- 
 ministering angel to tell of sheaves still un- 
 garnered. He was tlie month-piece of 
 wronged and abused humanity. Mind, tram- 
 meled with superstition, bigotry and oppres- 
 sion rang out in clarion tones through him, 
 warnings to the w avering, terrors to the dis- 
 solute, and incentives to those yearning for 
 higher and nobler things. 
 
 In that great, grand moral play, Faust, 
 we see the rampart principles of the day 
 personified in no less a personage than the 
 Devil. It shows how corruj^tiou stalks 
 abroad, how it coils, serpent-like, about the 
 tender tendrils of maiden modesty and vir- 
 tue, how with one gigantic swoop it seems 
 to clutch the last bud.of purity, witli cue 
 foul stroke hurls honesty from the land. 
 
 Again, in another play, we see how ilic 
 German heart was made to bleed beneath ■ 
 the tyrannous heel of the haughty despot — 
 how that the rights sacred and dear even to 
 the grovelling worm, were trodden in the 
 dust — how that man consequently came to 
 violate the God-given privileges of the 
 hearth-stone, and friendship - was onlv ;i 
 name.