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ORATION, 
 
 POEM, AND CHRONICLES, 
 
 DELIVERED BEFORE THE 
 
 i^Iinniu flf ^ppletra ^ta^cinu, 
 
 NEW IPSWICH, N. H., SEPTEMBER 18, 1801 f 
 
 TOGETHER WITH A 
 
 REPORT OF THE OTHER EXERCISES OF THE OCCASION. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 JOHN N. STEARNS, No. Ill FULTON STREET, 
 
 1861. 
 
WYNKOOP, HALLENBECK & THOMAS, PRINTERS, 
 No. 113 Fclton Street, New York. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 ]. owim : 
 
 By B. B. KINGSBURY, Esq., of Cambridge, Mass., . 
 
 11 . vom ; 
 
 By timothy ferry. Esq., of Brooklyn, N. Y., . 
 
 HI. CHRONICLES: 
 
 By WM. a. PRESTON, EsQv, of New Ipswich, N. H., 
 
 PAGE 
 
 . 0 
 
 . 23 
 
 41 
 
 lY. PROCEEDINGS AND EXERCISES OF THE DAY: 
 
 55 
 
ORATION. 
 
 Fellow-Alumni of New Ipswich Appleton Academy—Ladies and Gentlemen : 
 
 Assembled to renew old associations, to awaken sleeping 
 memories of the many pleasant hours we have spent here, 
 to exchange greetings after long absence, it might seem a 
 fitting occasion to repeat the history of our Alma Mater, 
 to chronicle her early struggles, her advancement, and 
 final, almost complete, realization of long-cherished hopes, 
 in the erection of this beautiful structure; or, bringing 
 back an offering to the shrine where we caught the first 
 aspirations for literary culture, felt the first thirst for 
 knowledge, we may wish to withdraw from the din of 
 business to the “ Groves of Academe,” to spend in its 
 grateful retirement a brief time in the discussion of some 
 topic connected with the purpose which lias brought us 
 together. But the tremendous crisis through which we 
 are passing, awakening anxieties for the safety of the 
 government and the cause of constitutional liberty through¬ 
 out the world, summons every man to look within, and 
 examine whether any fibre in the mighty lever of our 
 political system is unsound, or tough and stout; to try 
 whether heroism be a product of other days only. 
 
 I trust I shall be indulged in what may seem a departure 
 from the spirit which should characterize a literary festival, 
 if I say something of the heroic element of the present 
 day. Yet, hardly any class can feel a profounder interest 
 in the issue of the present struggle, than those who have 
 learned to look upon our government as the most liberal 
 patron of the arts and sciences. Here we have truly a 
 
G 
 
 “ Eepublic of Letters.” Here all, even the humblest, 
 may enter into competition for the prizes. They must 
 feel a corresponding interest in all that insures its per¬ 
 petuity, whether it be the spirit of its institutions, or the 
 character of the people who give the institutions their 
 bias. 
 
 Hardly a word has so many exciting associations as Hero. 
 The wonder-books of our boyhood, mythic tales, the grand 
 old legends of Greece and Rome, the chronicles of the 
 brave deeds of Athens and Sparta, formed for us a kind of 
 saints’ calendar. The stern, unflinching valor of the old 
 Roman, the resignation of the Christian martyr, the gal¬ 
 lantry of knight errant, have in them something almost 
 divine, which strongly moves the nobler part of our nature. 
 Even in this matter-of-fact age, in this matter-of fact stage 
 of life, we still have our hero-worship. Attracted by 
 feats of moral daring, or intellectual strength, or military 
 prowess, we gather about leaders, and call ourselves Jack- 
 sonians or Jeffersonians; take the theories of our heroes 
 for our political creed, and allow no imputation of their 
 imperfections ; their opinion, in the last resort, crushes the 
 arguments of opponents. 
 
 When I speak here of Hero, I do not mean that man 
 who, in ancient mythology, after the toils of this life, was 
 transferred to a seat among the gods ; nor the Great Man— 
 the representative man—whose life forms an epoch in the 
 world’s history. To heroism I do not refer simply the 
 reckless daring of the soldier, or the fearless, generous 
 effort of the fireman. By heroic worth, I mean all that 
 makes a man, fearless in the cause of truth, justice, and 
 humanity, bold to denounce popular sins, self-sacrificing 
 for country, battling against selfishness, whether in Amself 
 or OTHER self, unflinching in the hour of adversity. The 
 
7 
 
 requirements for the modern standard are quite various. 
 As modern civilization is an accretion of former civiliza¬ 
 tions, the modern hero is the sum and substance of all the 
 best qualities of by-gone types. We cannot spare from 
 his character the smiting energy of the Greeks in the hosts 
 of Agamemnon ; nay, we cannot relinquish in his composi¬ 
 tion the stern severity of the elder Brutus, who commanded 
 the death of his son for treason to the Republic. The 
 gentleness of brave chivalry, the loyalty to truth of the 
 victim of religious persecution, have place in his charac¬ 
 ter. While the essence of heroism is the same, its phases 
 are quite unlike. Now it is displayed in daring for chief, 
 now in devotion to country, now in crusade against infi¬ 
 dels, or defense of innocence and weakness against bestial 
 violence. 
 
 It is seen at Runnymede, in the struggles of Hollanders 
 contending for religious freedom against the hierarchy of 
 Rome ; at Valley Forge—wherever great principles are put 
 into the issue, where liberty is at stake. 
 
 While now we do not care to see any more “ Lion-hearts” 
 waging fierce battle against Moslem Turk, we rejoice to 
 behold England and France send their heroes into the field, 
 to thrust back a Russian semi-barbarous civilization, threat¬ 
 ening to absorb the Eastern world. Knight-errantry may 
 give way to the toil of stout-hearted workers at the prob¬ 
 lem of human ads^ancement; the lay of troubadour and 
 minnesinger to “ songs of labor.” 
 
 Democracy is the spirit which should interpenetrate 
 the modern character. Democracy embraces the ideas of 
 free thought, free speech ; the development and improve¬ 
 ment of the individual rather than an interest. The pro¬ 
 motion of the people rather than the glorifying of a caste, 
 should be the grand motive power of the present age. 
 
8 
 
 The belief is getting fast rooted in the people every¬ 
 where, that bread is not the only “ staff of life that 
 freedom and equality are necessary to the full development 
 and exercise of their powers. Despots, even in the calcu¬ 
 lations of their purblind understandings, begin to see that 
 a free man is a third more a man than a slave. The Czar 
 of Russia thinks he shall largely increase his effective 
 force, if he gives back to serfs rights reserved heretofore 
 to a pampered nobility. Hungary is still protesting 
 against the withholding of her just privileges. Italy 
 rejoices in unity under a constitutional government. The 
 aristocracy of England, apprehending their owm near 
 deposition, are eagerly watching for a refutation of liberal- 
 ists, who point to our system as one wdiich combines the 
 maximum of liberty with the maximum of strength. We 
 feel confident that the mighty power of the nation will 
 disappoint their predictions of the downfall of our noble 
 government. 
 
 On this side of the Atlantic, an interest long indulged in 
 the control of government is entering on its last crusade 
 against the people. The Southern aristocrats, having seen 
 the power of controlling the policy of government pass 
 from their hands, refuse submission to the decision of a 
 popular vote, and anticipate with delight a relapse into 
 feudalism. The theory of Calhoun, that interests, not indi¬ 
 viduals, are to be reckoned in making up the majority, 
 that the compound of conscience, soul, mind, which we 
 call man, has no claim to recognition comparable to bank, 
 trading, or labor-owning interests, is ripening into an 
 abundant crop of heresy, that threatens to subvert all 
 constitutional government. 
 
 But men are not confined to the region south of Mason 
 and Dixon’s line, who substantially ignore this principle. 
 
9 
 
 Many a corporation holds the conscience of its employees 
 in close keeping, and votes through them almost as a unit. 
 The man who takes adv^antage of his position as contractor 
 for labor, to force his dependent hirelings to vote his ticlcet^ 
 whether by gentle insinuation that it is best so to do, or 
 by positive threat to turn him away in case of refusal, is 
 violating the principle of democracy as much as if he 
 were enlisted in behalf of the most uncompromising despot 
 as detective police officer. This is not universal, nor so 
 wide-spread, as those who characterize the Northern 
 laborers as “ mudsills ” would have us suppose. 
 
 But we must take care not to hunt down a suspicious 
 opinion, and strive to suppress it, because it opposes our 
 immediate interest, whether to lessen the return on our 
 investments or increase our taxes. There is no heroism in 
 this ; it is sheer cowardice. We have, or ought to have, a 
 higher interest in seeing ourselves surrounded by free¬ 
 men of independent thought and action. Manly think¬ 
 ing and liberal sentiment are more important for the pre¬ 
 servation of our institutions, than a balance of exchange in 
 our favor, or an overflowing treasury. 
 
 The class of men who think that, by virtue of superior 
 intellect, or wealth, or sometimes, it would seem, superior 
 accident, they are to enjoy the fruits of the earth, and 
 incidentally to provide for the common herd of mortals by 
 taking upon themselves the burden of government, are 
 centuries behind the time. They should have lived in a 
 rude baronial age, when the feudal system was in full vigor. 
 They might then have shown some bravery, some heroism 
 perhaps, in hunt or tournament, and have seemed to their 
 
 admirin" defenders real heroes. But universal intellisrence 
 
 . . . ♦ 
 
 to-day demands some other qualities, belonging rather to 
 the man, than such loose shreds as wealth, or birth-rights, 
 
10 
 
 to give a person claim to any worship. The theory that 
 capital should own labor is an absurd dogma of pride, 
 which its advocates are ready to realize at the point of the 
 bayonet, and are now at the gates of the capital, flaunting 
 treason full in our faces. It has been asserted, that here in 
 New England we must sometime submit to a division into 
 two classes, the dominant and servient, as the only true 
 basis of society, with many of the privileges of the Eng¬ 
 lish lord on one side, with the meanness of the peasant on 
 the other. It will be only when the virtue of the people 
 is gone, when they have forgotten the lessons taught them 
 by their ancestors, when the spirit of Puritan Eoundhead 
 has departed ; when the common school, the nursery of 
 true democracy, has disappeared. 
 
 A faith in the people, a real, active spirit of democracy, 
 is, then, a necessity, if we would preserve our institutions. 
 In this trial-day of American democracy, there is need of 
 a thorough conviction among the masses that they have a 
 right to rule, and will not be deprived of this prerogative 
 of their kingship by any man or set of men. Let the 
 people learn to respect and trust to themselves, not con¬ 
 fide too much in any man’s abilities, no matter what his 
 claim to our attention, or homage even. From man-wor¬ 
 shipers, we may become willing tools in the hands of some 
 designing intriguer. Let us discard the notion that a 
 monarchy is the best form of government. It is the 
 offspring of lazy indifference, or an unwillingness to assume 
 the responsibilities of the republican citizen. 
 
 We are to remember, that not for ourselves alone are we 
 trying to solve the problem of self-government. Millions 
 ^of freedom-seekers in Europe are looking to us for a hope¬ 
 ful solution. We must, then, be true to our trust. We 
 must not for a moment falter, remembering that the most 
 
11 
 
 Stirling heroism is that which does not bubble up at the 
 cannon’s mouth, or bluster in the street brawl, but which 
 adversity cannot crush. 
 
 Every reverse which we have yet experienced has had 
 its countei*part before, and it is an indication of feeble 
 patriotism to despond, and cry peace under disasters suffered 
 in the noblest cause the world ever saw. 
 
 We must revere republican institutions, so far as they 
 elevate the individual. We must spurn with contempt 
 the doctrine that the laborer is worth less than the labor- 
 owner by three-fifths. We must dignify labor by all 
 means in our power. Here, in New England, there is at 
 present little danger of the depreciation of labor. We 
 patronize farm and mechanic industry by those yearly fes¬ 
 tivals, agricultural fairs. There, a generous emulation is 
 excited ; there, labor meets its reward in worthy recogni¬ 
 tion. Labor, too, is trained by system ; the head works 
 with the hands; and large crops are not the result of acci¬ 
 dent, but of theory and practice combined. But labor 
 cheapens : the Anglo-Saxon may become Anglo-Norman in 
 his tastes and feelings, think labor fit for boors, and then 
 pave the way for a hireling peasantry. We must lessen any 
 such tendency, by infusing into the laboring class a sense 
 of their own power for good or evil, by giving good wages, 
 by extending to them privileges of cultivation and refine¬ 
 ment, by opening to them every possible avenue to ad¬ 
 vancement and distinction. We have a safeguard in the 
 cheapness of land. We have a still greater safeguard in 
 the common school. There, aristocracy is interpreted the 
 supremacy of the best in brain, in muscle, in disposition. 
 The only aristocracy there recognized, is that of best bat¬ 
 ter, or bowler, or runner on the play-ground, best student 
 in the school-room. The son of his Honor, or his Excel- 
 
12 
 
 lency, must consent to sit on the same bench with the 
 cobbler’s son, and his snobbish mamma may be mortified to 
 see her dear boy at the foot of a class of which her servant’s 
 son is the head. Thus, through life, w'e acknowledge the 
 supremacy of intellect, the excellence of refinement, but 
 tolerate no caste founded on externals. Man must earn his 
 title to distinction. He may, by the toil of the brain, in¬ 
 vent labor-saving machines, to exempt him from the toil 
 of his hands ; but he must not resort to the theory of the 
 necessity of a class to support him by their labor. 
 
 Having shown the spirit which should prompt the 
 modern hero, let us discuss the question of his training. 
 It may be asked. Is not heroism innate, kindred with 
 genius ? If it is synonymous with physical courage, it 
 does depend on temperament, and needs only the presence 
 of danger to call it out. But if it means greatness of soul, 
 certainly its best meaning, it may consist with physical 
 w^eakness. If it is fidelity to the noblest principles of our 
 nature, it may be developed and strengthened by educa¬ 
 tion, by keeping before the mind the worth of these princi¬ 
 ples. Hardly a school-boy but has a right notion of heroic 
 worth, even if he does not in his passion act upon it. If we 
 can only infuse into him a feeling of manliness, the hero¬ 
 ism will appear with advancing years. Let him once 
 thoroughly despise meanness and bullying, and his stout¬ 
 heartedness is assured. 
 
 We should like to see Tom Browns in every school— 
 the type of a healthy, hearty young hero, whose strength 
 does not degenerate into overbearing bravado; wdiose 
 courage is tempered with gentleness ; whose Christianity 
 is of that character which makes itself felt in the defense 
 of the weak, rebuke of the bully—an element in the play¬ 
 ground quite as much as in the church. Any training 
 
13 
 
 which will give good muscle, good health, good heart, 
 is better than that which simply loads the brain or disci¬ 
 plines the understanding, sharpens the intellect, but blinds 
 the better feelings. There is much to be hoped for in the 
 present increased attention to physical culture. We may 
 reasonably expect to see in another generation fewer dys¬ 
 pepsia-tainted students, more right-hearted and right-headed 
 men. 
 
 An important agency in the instruction of the young 
 man, is the placing of models before him for his imitation. 
 They are beacon-lights to direct his aspirations for glory. 
 They should be, therefore, of the purest stamp. They 
 should be men, not one-sided, but of a rounded finish, with 
 thorough integrity, moral heroism, sunnounting the whole; 
 men like Washington or Lafayette, guided by principles, 
 not warped by ambition. Some men seem to have a kind 
 of reverse model. They look more to the starting-point 
 than the goal. They measure their progress by their ad¬ 
 vance from badness^ rather than by their approach towards 
 goodness. Let the young man keep his gaze ahead. He 
 cannot make so much advancement, if he is continually 
 looking back, to see how far in the rear he has left mean¬ 
 ness. Let him take Herbert’s advice as his rule: 
 
 “ Pitch thy behavior low, thy projects high ; 
 
 So Shalt thou humble and magnanimous be : 
 
 Sink not in spirit; who aimeth at the sky, 
 
 Shoots higher much than he that means a tree.” 
 
 But in addition to physical culture, and the presentation 
 of right models for his imitation, don’t let him shallow his 
 intellect by smatterings of knowledge, dabbling in showy 
 learning, or browsing in dreamy indolence in the fields of 
 literature. Sydney Smith says we must dare to be ignor¬ 
 ant ; and in these times, when every school-boy may be- 
 
14 
 
 come an “ Admirable Crichton,” and surprise his elders by 
 the exhibition of his varied knowledge, there is a kind 
 of moral heroism in saying, “ I don’t know,” to his test- 
 questions, put to measure the attainments of the genera¬ 
 tion before him. Every thing which tends to superficiality 
 of learning, goes farther; it weakens the sensibilities, and 
 lessens the attention to the sober business of life. If we 
 have a serious purpose in living, an end to attain, we must 
 be content with those qualifications which help us to reach 
 it. Not that the Utilitarian view is the best: a view 
 which discards the classics, and banishes from the curricu¬ 
 lum those sciences w^hich, though they teach the scholar 
 to think, do not immediately concern his profession in 
 life. But as true manhood is worth more than extensive 
 and varied scholarship, so are those teachings, whether of 
 self-discipline or regular academical training, which de¬ 
 velop this, of more value than the accomplishments of the 
 fashionable boarding-school, where too often the art most 
 thoroughly learned, is the art of flirtation. 
 
 Having designated the spirit which should actuate the 
 modern hero, and his training, allow me to say something 
 of his battle-field—something of the foes he has to contend 
 wuth. 
 
 In the wonderful activity of the present day, the conflict 
 is one of 023inions. Our leaders are not chieftains, to 
 gather us together at pibroch’s call, but men of preeminent 
 talent, who attract us by their novel views, broad philan¬ 
 thropy, or fervid sentiments. With thought excited to the 
 utmost, with the passion of controversy aroused, it is not 
 strange that discussion sometimes runs wild, and enthusiasm 
 becomes fanaticism. The discoveries of science are wuelded 
 to overthrow long-cherished beliefs. The Christian has 
 trembled, lest Kevelation—his palladium—should have its 
 
15 
 
 authority diminished; has uttered anathemas against theo¬ 
 rists ; classed the sciences on which they rely among those 
 “ falsely so calledshut themselves out from investiga¬ 
 tion, and become blind sectaries. When spiritualists gravely 
 propose to revise the Scriptures^by manifestations received 
 from the spirit-world through table-tipping, and other 
 spirit arts; when German theology threatens to materialize 
 religion; when clergymen of the Church of England, in 
 “ Essays,” affirm their disbelief in what they have taken 
 as their creed to teach and to preach, no wonder that there 
 should be forebodings of a disruption of religious systems. 
 
 But let the depths of science be sounded; let every 
 nook and corner be searched for proof against the Christian 
 religion. There shall arise champions j ust as eager to dis¬ 
 cover the facts which tell for their belief; that not only the 
 truth, but the whole truth, may be known ; keen to discern 
 fallacies, that nothing hut the truth may stand. 
 
 Never for a moment let us shrink from a full, fair expo¬ 
 sition of truth, no matter what its object. It is cowardly 
 to cringe before searching inquiry. It indicates feeble 
 faith and lazy intellect. Investigation gives soundness and 
 substantiality to our views; imparts breadth of thought, 
 and liberalizes our judgment. The very extravagance of 
 theorists, if they are men in real earnest in their belief, 
 grubs up those little sectarian conceits which belong rather 
 to Phariseeism than true Christianity. 
 
 The din of conflicting opinions is not confined to reli¬ 
 gious discussion. The arena of politics is more turbulent, 
 as the combatants are more numerous and loud-voiced. In 
 this country, politics are at least a thh'd nature. To belong 
 to no party, is to be an alien from a very desirable Goshen ; 
 to take no interest in politics argues badly for a man’s pa¬ 
 triotism ; to know nothing of political caucuses, and the 
 
16 
 
 machinery of a political campaign, savors strongly of stu¬ 
 pidity. Parties are a necessity in a country like ours. 
 They afford a healthy stimulus ; they prevent stagnation of 
 public spirit; they kee^i before every man the fact of his 
 own kingshi23. But if party outruns its legitimate pur¬ 
 pose, and becomes an instmment to further the designs of 
 ambitious intriguers; if its machinery comes into the 
 hands of a few wire-pullers, who, by their artifices, secure 
 the control of government, it becomes a dangerous weapon. 
 If it, moreover, resists inspection of its policy, cowers 
 under investigation, resorfs to gag-laws and parliamentary 
 tactics, rather than to hiir discussion, it depreciates tenfold 
 our noble political system. \Ye have seen it recently have 
 recourse to the argument of the bully—nay, to war and 
 invasion, to compel, at the point of the bayonet, an ac¬ 
 knowledgment of its rights from a people who rejected 
 offers of political servitude. It may be said, this is an in-r 
 terest against a principle—Cotton against Eepublicanism, 
 Aristocracy against Democracy. But it is an evidence of 
 how an interest will adopt a party as a convenient means 
 to carry out its selfish dictates, absorb its doctrines, and 
 present them assimilated to its own belief. 
 
 Not only in the hands of leaders does it become an ex¬ 
 pedient to defeat the ends of government, and belie the 
 spirit of our institutions: it proceeds at wholesale some¬ 
 times. It becomes a Briarean tyrant. The terrorism of the 
 mob is substituted for the despotism of the man. Not long 
 ago, in Boston, a meeting of philanthropists was suppressed 
 by mob force, lest it should endanger the Union of these 
 States. The motive, perhaps, was laudable enough, but it 
 was a most cowardly way to show their patiiotism; and 
 these disturbers were only laughed at for their endeavors, 
 by the men who were plotting the destruction of the 
 government. 
 
17 
 
 If we would not submit to the stern rule of faction, if 
 we would not have introduced into our Republic the savage 
 tyrannies spawned by the French Revolution, we must 
 allow all minorities their rights of free speech. We must 
 dare to meet discussion everywhere, on all topics ; we 
 must shrink from no attempt to expose our fallacies, or re¬ 
 fute our doctrines. If free speech be suppressed, or re¬ 
 stricted to the use of majorities, then thought is stifled, or 
 works in dangerous plots. We shall see a people struck 
 with moral death or struggling with revolutionary spasms. 
 We must be convinced, from the history of the past, that 
 the harmonious action of government depends on the com¬ 
 plete exercise of all its functions ; on obedience to the 
 spirit as well as the letter of the constitution. 
 
 Party assumes to be the keeper of the conscience of each 
 man who wears its livery. It threatens to ‘‘ read out” 
 whosoever does not follow its dictates. A bolter is to the 
 strict partisan a wretched sinner. As he cannot be put 
 to the rack like a heretic, the next best inquisitorial expe¬ 
 dient is resorted to, and he is “rcaJ instead of being 
 burned out of political existence. But when parties are 
 held by mere names, or constitute organizations to provide 
 distribution of offices, when principle is gone and mere 
 hull is left, self-respect demands a refusal to obey its be¬ 
 hests. We cannot expect, as new questions arise, new 
 policies are broached, new interpretations of constitutional 
 powers presented, that a party can confine within its creed 
 these new elements, so as to make it acceptable to all 
 its members. Sound judgment therefore demands a recon¬ 
 struction or remodelling of parties, which selfish, partisan 
 conservatives so much dread. 
 
 It is only by the interchange of thought that the world 
 makes progress. No evil was ever lessened by any at- 
 2 
 
18 
 
 tempt to prevent the deliberation of schemes for its re¬ 
 moval. Silence was never very effectual for the abolition of 
 gigantic sins and promoting reform. If Luther had fol¬ 
 lowed the counsels of the right-thinking but timid Eras¬ 
 mus, fiery indignation at the promulgation of indulgences 
 would have been smothered in the folds of expediency, and 
 religious freedom have waited still longer for a heroic 
 champion. 
 
 If earnest men do*mistake, their labor is not lost; they 
 have not made a great ado about nothing. If their plans 
 have come to no practical result, they may have struck out 
 a spark, to be by and by fanned into a flame to warm and 
 encourage humanity. Many a splendid structure has arisen 
 on the ruins of unsuccessful experiment; failure has 
 often suggested success; grand enterprises have sprung 
 from humble endeavor. One of the noblest charities of 
 Paris originated in the efforts of a poor sewing girl to help 
 an aged female. 
 
 Among the hindrances to the growth and exhibition of 
 the heroic principle, is the intensely practical tendency of 
 the age. Its king is Money, and his sway is almost un¬ 
 questioned. It is heated in the pursuit of wealth, cool in 
 its charities ; busy in moneyed speculations, indolent in 
 charitable transactions. The warehouse proceeds rapidly 
 to completion, the church or hospital waits for funds; it 
 asks, “ Will it pay It shrinks behind public opinion ; it 
 hardly understands the nobler enthusiasm of seeking to 
 reform and, elevate humanity. It says to the young man, 
 “ Don’t get excited; don’t fill your brain with mad schemes 
 for the improvement of the race ; don’t be a Quixote, tilt¬ 
 ing at wind-mills, the laughing-stock of your sensible neigh¬ 
 bors.” If Cervantes produced a character whose adven¬ 
 tures have amused the wmrld, he has supplied the represen- 
 
19 
 
 tative of the practical age with a word which has crushed 
 many a chivalrous exertion. Has a young man started 
 with a project of benevolence, he is met with the advice, 
 “ Look out for number one,” or another version, “ Every 
 man for himself, and the devil take the hindmost.” He 
 turns to self, and becomes selfish, like the rest of them. 
 
 But it does «ot rest with simply enfeebling generous 
 exertion. It eats deep into the core of morality. It sports 
 with justice; it laughs at tricks of party; it resorts to 
 chicanery, and calls it political wisdom ; it adopts honesty 
 when it is the best policy. 
 
 I have adverted to partisan influence. I will only allude 
 to it here, to express the hope that it may not be said of a 
 mythic golden age alone, 
 
 “ Then none was for a party, 
 
 Then all were for the State.” 
 
 To meet all the obstacles to heroic right action requires 
 earnestness. This is what has characterized those heroes, 
 who have stamped their character upon the age in which 
 they lived. We must not sport with life. It is not a play¬ 
 ground, but a battle-field. Let us not be surface men, 
 shams, labeled through life to prevent mistakes, or for 
 convenient designation with our intended profession. 
 Many a young man runs through college for the sake of 
 the A, B. at the end, which he flatters himself will bring 
 him honors, reputation, wealth, as if it were a magic 
 thing. Socrates should be standing now at the entrances 
 of our academical institutions, as of old he stood at the 
 'corners of the streets in Athens, to show them the worth¬ 
 lessness of their acquirements ; to tell them what lean, 
 starveling souls they have, leaky as a sieve; to ask them 
 seriously whether they were master of the arts and sciences ; 
 to determine the value of these sciences; to apply to them 
 
20 
 
 liis searching elenchus, and induce them to and 
 
 ?-e-learn. 
 
 At this day, quacks swarm in every calling. Men prefer 
 the tricks to the principles of their profession. They are 
 lazy-minded, and rely upon the sudden effort of genius, or 
 a fortunate concurrence of circumstances. They scheme 
 that they may not think, they plot how. they may not 
 reason. 
 
 They lose sight of the object of their vocation, and find 
 in it only a means of living, forgetting that, as they elevate 
 this, they ennoble their life. 
 
 We must be all-day and every-day laborers. We must 
 not look out for a place in the reserve corps for emergen¬ 
 cies, but take our stand in the advanced guard for action. 
 Some men think that true heroism can be exhibited only 
 on the battle-field, at the cannon’s mouth, in the bayonet 
 charge. They are as chary of their heroic qualities as 
 Hudibras of his wdt, who 
 
 “ As loth to wear it put, 
 
 And therefore bore it not about; 
 
 Unless on holidays, or so. 
 
 As men their best apparel do.” 
 
 But in the varied relations which a man has to family, 
 neighbors, country, there is ample opportunity for the dis¬ 
 play of heroism. If we cannot all be takers of cities, we 
 can strive to obtain the more difficult accomplishment of 
 ruling our spirits. 
 
 There is no aristocracy of heroes to-day. Heroism is 
 sure of recognition, if it does not wear a blue ribbon. We 
 are not now divided into barons and boors, feudal lords 
 and villeins. Chivalry is not to him alone, who can search 
 for adventurers on good steed. As the individual has now 
 the same deference that once a class monopolized, his 
 heroic work has a fitting tribute. 
 
21 
 
 But crowning all attributes is that of high, pure morali¬ 
 ty. The people assert or imagine it in the apotheosis of 
 their favorites. They require - its existence to complete 
 the model, and well they may. Daring without a noble 
 •motive is simply audacity; courage displayed in a mean ac¬ 
 tion cannot obtain, as it does not deserve, our esteem. The 
 development and cultivation of our moral nature ennobles 
 our heroism, as it directs it to noble ends. Men too often 
 discipline to the utmost their intellect, while they slight 
 the “ divinity that stirs within them.” They neglect the 
 promptings of their nobler being, and listen to selfish am¬ 
 bition, and thus miss the attainment of a well-rounded 
 character. The anchorite who deadens his social propen¬ 
 sities, is not more foolish than he who pampers his selfish 
 inclinations, and subdues the strivings of his higher nature. 
 
 In what does the superiority of Demosthenes over his 
 rival consist ? In the arts of rhetoric, ^schines was his 
 equal; in delivery, perhaps more finished. It was in the 
 moral grandeur of Demosthenes’ character ; that moral 
 heroism which dared to rebuke the people, which pi ompt- 
 ed him to speak for their interest, not their gratification, 
 which scorned the bribe which was to silence his patriotism. 
 A consciousness of moral rectitude gives moral power, and 
 weighs against superior abilities, when great interests are 
 at stake. 
 
 This was what induced the people to put confidence in 
 Phocion, who was not sparing of his contempt of their ap¬ 
 plause. It is the most admirable part of Cicero’s character, 
 and makes us regret that it was not always his guiding 
 principle. It elevates his philosophy above the doctrine of 
 expediency, of Christian moralists even, and exalts his death 
 to a martyrdom. 
 
22 
 
 Look for a moment at the contrast. The moral coward 
 shrinks from duty, shirks responsibility; if student, re¬ 
 sorts to headaches to escape a hard task, and invents 
 excuses to account for failures; yields to popular pre¬ 
 judice ; cowers in adversity ; blusters in success ; is brave 
 where no danger is; suffers thousand deaths—with the 
 lips ; criticises the war policy; denounces the war tax; 
 magnifies disaster; compromises ; dares not throw over¬ 
 board those who are attempting to sink the Ship of 
 State; avoides inquiry; identifies stout assertion with 
 good reasoning. 
 
 The reward of moral heroism is the consciousness of 
 having done right, having performed one’s duty; the con¬ 
 sciousness of right thinking and right acting—a reward 
 more durable, satisfying, and unalloying, than fame or 
 wealth, which fickle fortune transfers from one to another. 
 Let us who have here acquired something of a taste for 
 literature, something of mental discipline, direct it to 
 ennoble whatever heroic qualities we have, to advance 
 and defend the cause of truth, justice, and humanity. 
 
 Allow me to close with an exhortation which might 
 have been taken as the text or burden of this address : 
 
 • “In the world’s broad field of battle, 
 
 In the bivcyac of life, 
 
 Be not like dumb, driven cattle, 
 
 Be a hero in the strife. 
 
 “ Let us then be up and doing. 
 
 With a heart for any fate ; 
 
 Still achieving, still pursuing, 
 
 • Learn to labor and to wait.” 
 
THEN AND NOW. 
 
 The Child, impatient of the lapse of time, 
 
 Looks forward with an eager, hopeful eye. 
 
 And revels in the gayly-colored scenes 
 Which Fancy ever pictures in the Future. 
 
 The Man, more sober with the weight of years. 
 Finding the fiction fairer than the fact. 
 
 And life less brilliant than the gilded promise. 
 
 Turns from the Present still, back to the Past, 
 
 And wanders, with increased delight each day. 
 
 Amid the flowery fields of Memory. 
 
 And when, perchance, two, that were boys together. 
 Meet by some accident in after years. 
 
 With what a zest do they rehearse the acts 
 And all the incidents of olden times. 
 
 So here to-day, by happy fortune brought. 
 Long-sundered friends grasp hands with joy again. 
 Exchange kind greetings, and recall the hours 
 When we together climbed the hill of Science. 
 
 FIRST EXPERIENCE. 
 
 Momentous day, when the clear ringing sound 
 Of the old school-bell, echoing around. 
 
 Grave the long-wished-for and yet dreaded call 
 That summoned first our feet to Learning’s hall. 
 
 And crowned us with—that height of our ambition— 
 The title of a young academician! 
 
 0 day of pride, and day of trials too. 
 
 Day of experiences strange and new! 
 
24 
 
 The grave Preceptor, with a learned air, 
 
 Sat on the stage in a large easy-chair, 
 
 And, looking still more wise and dignified, 
 
 His two assistants sat on either side ; 
 
 While, ranging up and down by many an aisle, 
 
 AVith various aspect, sat the rank and file— 
 
 Boys from the city, spruce, and trimly dressed. 
 
 Boys from the village, busy rogues at best. 
 
 Boys from the country, with an awkward mien. 
 
 More fond of seeing than of being seen ; 
 
 Young men of thoughtful, literary looks, 
 
 AVho had spent years in company with books; 
 
 And others still, fresh from their father’s farm. 
 
 With sun-browned face, firm lip, and sinewy arm. 
 Who swung the scythe in summer-time at home, 
 
 But elsewhere swung the birch when winter come. 
 And on the other side, in force displayed. 
 
 Long lines of blooming beauty were arrayed— 
 Plump-cheeked and buxom maids with laughing eyes. 
 And pensive damsels in more sober guise, 
 
 Young misses of a prim and haughty air. 
 
 With dress genteel, and jewelry to spare; 
 
 And pale-faced, bright-eyed girls, modest and coy. 
 Whose presence disconcerted many a boy; 
 
 And others yet, whose manners, more mature, 
 
 So matron-like and easy, made you sure 
 That they had often held imperial rule. 
 
 As supreme mistress of some district school. 
 
 Such was the panorama when we met 
 As youthful strangers, and its memory yet 
 Is fresh as if it were but yesterday 
 We saw the picture and it passed away. 
 
26 
 
 It was the opening tableau of an act 
 In Life’s great drama, whose recurring scenes 
 Made impress, and wore channels in our hearts. 
 
 That all Eternity shall not efface. 
 
 The careful teachings of those early years 
 Brought treasures to the store-house of the soul. 
 Waked up the sleeping powers of Intellect, 
 
 Created aspirations, new and strong. 
 
 Made pathways for Ambition, opened fields 
 For literary action and renown. 
 
 And gave fresh skill and strength for worthy deeds 
 In every walk and circumstance of life. 
 
 To write complete the record of those times. 
 
 Would make a book full of historic rhymes,— 
 
 A curious tale, but much too long, I fear. 
 
 For any one to tell, or two to hear. 
 
 It must suffice to give a hasty glance 
 At here and there a salient circumstance. 
 
 Leaving the outline for some leisure day. 
 
 And let each fill it up in his own way. 
 
 BECOMING DOMESTICATED. 
 
 How soon the young novitiate at school 
 Gained confidence and learned to work by rule; 
 
 How soon, by unexpected kindness cheered. 
 
 Each timorous apprehension disappeared! 
 
 How soon the scenes, which first were strange and new, 
 By oft-repeated use, familiar grew. 
 
 And the last home-sick symptom passed away 
 Like twilight shadows at the break of day ! 
 
 Even that attic-room in Students’ Hall, ’ 
 
26 
 
 With one projecting window, mean and small, 
 
 Which overlooked the solemn church-yard stones, 
 With fears of ghosts and visions of dry bones. 
 
 In time became a paradise of joy 
 To every well-behaved and studious boy. 
 
 And lessons that at first were dull and dry 
 As an old tree-stump ’neath Sahara’s sky. 
 
 Soon, as if vivified by summer showers. 
 
 Showed signs of life, and put forth leaves and flowers. 
 Each figure in long columns seemed to sprout. 
 
 And every unknown x gave forth a shout! 
 
 Sharp angles, curves, and geometric lines. 
 
 Seemed beautiful as ornamental vines ; 
 
 Dead languages a resurrection took. 
 
 And from their locks the musty cobwebs shook; 
 Dumb Nature found a scientific tongue. 
 
 Antediluvian rocks looked fresh and young. 
 
 Planets and stars in splendor sparkled bright. 
 
 And the whole realm of learning beamed with light! 
 0 halcyon days ! though now forever past. 
 
 Yet long your happy memory shall last— 
 
 Not dim and fading with each setting sun. 
 
 But growing brighter as the years roll on. 
 
 Distance shall make a palace of a cot. 
 
 Each smile remembered, and each tear forgot. 
 
 We journeyed then through literary fields. 
 
 And plucked the golden fruit that Science yields, 
 
 Trod many a crooked path and rugged way. 
 
 By no means free from trials and delay ; 
 
 But, manful, resolute and patient still. 
 
 We scaled each beetling rock, and climbed each hill; 
 And when the cheerful, hard day’s work was done. 
 Each night camped higher up and further on. 
 
27 
 
 WHAT WE DID. 
 
 ’Twas then we learned how rules of Mathematics 
 Could he applied to master Hydrostatics ; 
 
 How laws of Arithmetical Progression, 
 
 Govern the equinoxes in precession ; 
 
 Plow one may often change his situation, 
 
 And yet be very dull at permutation ; 
 
 Or be a gentleman in all his actions, 
 
 And practice constantly in Vulgar Fractions ; 
 
 Or work industriously extracting Roots, 
 
 And neither mar his hands nor soil his boots; 
 
 Or be conservative in his professions. 
 
 And yet make use of Radical expressions ; 
 
 Or—still more strange and wonderful to tell— 
 
 How Jane may always get her lessons well 
 (In music), and yet often be at play 
 (On the piano), more than half the day. 
 
 But one strange thing, the solemn truth most stern. 
 Compels me to admit we did not learn; 
 
 Indeed, the simple fashions of those days 
 Gave us no fitting opportunities— 
 
 (And if they had, such questions are involved, 
 
 ’Tis doubtful if the problem could be solved)— 
 
 We never learned the form of calculation. 
 
 Either by a Quadratical Equation, 
 
 Or better, by attempting to apply 
 The rules of Spherical Geometry, 
 
 To properly compute, so as to tell 
 The area of a full-sized modern belle ; 
 
 And long to come, I fear, it still will be, 
 
 A very large, but unknown quantity. 
 
 t 
 
28 
 
 FURTHER ACQUISITIONS. 
 
 But other questions, not so difficult, 
 
 Took little time to figure the result. 
 
 And, on the whole, to speak with modesty, 
 Few smarter boys have lived than you and me 
 Ah ! don’t you now remember well how quick 
 We worked the tough sums in Arithmetic ; 
 Covered the old long black-board every day, 
 With problems curious in Algebra, 
 
 And found the value of y, and 2^, 
 
 With most astonishing dexterity ? 
 
 And couldn’t we parse and analyze 
 Better than other striplings of our size ? 
 Philosophy (the natural kind) we knew, 
 
 From the beginning to the end, quite through ; 
 Of powers mechanical, we knew the action. 
 And could explain the causes of refraction; 
 Were versed in principles of locomotion ; 
 
 The theory of high tides in the ocean ; 
 
 The science of chain pumps and water-wheels ; 
 The wonders which the microscope reveals. 
 And all the strange results of Galvanism, 
 Applied to telegraphs and magnetism. 
 
 We also understood thermometers ; 
 
 The operation of barometers, 
 
 And various different ways and means 
 Of making good electrical machines ; 
 
 Could write an essay on the use of snow, 
 
 All kinds of winds explain, and why they blow, 
 And trace, from causes of disturbed caloric. 
 
 All the phenomena called meteoric ; 
 
29 
 
 Of salts and acids understood the nature, 
 
 And the whole system of their nomenclature ; 
 
 How substances, in near vicinity. 
 
 Are moved by chemical affinity. 
 
 And knew by heart the first of natural laws. 
 
 That every effect must have a cause! 
 
 CLIMBING THE HIGHEK BRANCHES. 
 
 Sometimes, for fear of dull monotony. 
 
 We looked a little into Botany, 
 
 And, gathering specimens of plants most rare. 
 
 Pressed and preserved them with the greatest care; 
 The names of different kinds of flowers could state— 
 Hypocrateriform to labiate— 
 
 And soon, to tell the taste, at least, were able. 
 
 Of every culinary vegetable ; 
 
 And fruit, such as the apple and the peach, 
 Investigated all within our reach. 
 
 Zoology, if I remember rightly. 
 
 We also took in hand and studied slightly— 
 
 Enough to know which animals have horns. 
 
 Which chew the cud, and which a mane adorns. 
 
 And learned (though mostly out of school) the habits 
 Of blue-ja3^s, squirrels, partridges and rabbits. 
 
 And, leaving birds and beasts, we found the name 
 Of every bone within the human frame ; 
 
 Read chapters on the intimate relation 
 Between good health and proper mastication ; 
 
 Got the dyspepsia studying digestion. 
 
 And caught a cold upon the warm-blood question. 
 Next, with contempt for things of modern birth, 
 
30 
 
 We searched the hidden archives of the Earth, 
 And from the rocks and fossils soon could show 
 How worlds were made, and just how long ago. 
 Expanding still, our minds soared into space. 
 And tracked the planets in their nightly race; 
 Learned all the subtle laws of gravitation. 
 
 And the right name of every constellation ; 
 Studied the habits of the Polar Bear, 
 
 And calculated very nearly where 
 Some twenty thousand years to come, or later. 
 The orbit of the moon will cross the equator. 
 Then, passing out of realms material. 
 
 We took up things yet more ethereal. 
 
 Logic received our dignified attention, 
 
 And arts of argumentative invention. 
 
 The principles of moral science too 
 We did not fail to carefully review. 
 
 And ethically reasoned well and long 
 On the distinction between right and wrong— 
 A subject which at present I opine 
 Is much neglected south of Dixon’s line. 
 
 ADVENTURES AMONG THE DEAD LANGUAGES. 
 
 These things we studied in our mother tongue. 
 
 As any boy might do, however young ; 
 
 But soon, disgusted with such common stock. 
 
 We left them all behind for liic^ hcec, hoc ; 
 
 The Latin grammar conned in every part. 
 
 And learned the rules of Syntax all by heart; 
 
 Read Caesar’s expeditions into Gaul 
 
 In days when Rome was great and France was small. 
 
31 
 
 Also translated, for a term or so, 
 
 The famous speeches made by Cicero ; 
 
 And with ^Eneas crossed, against large odds, 
 (Occasioned by the anger of the gods) 
 
 From Troy to Italy, and founded there 
 A wide-spread empire, powerful and fair. 
 
 • We then, proud of our good success and skili. 
 For classical renown ambitious still. 
 
 Not without danger to our lives and limbs. 
 
 Learned all the Greek jaw-breaking paradigms ; 
 Filled our distracted heads with o, 1 /, rd\ 
 
 Took breakfast, dined and supped on [SovIevgo ; 
 
 And, haunted by their horrid recollections. 
 
 We dreamed at night of aorist inflections ; 
 
 Learned and remembered then, I scarce know how. 
 But all, thank goodness, well forgotten now ! 
 
 Yet by their help, with Xenophon, we beat 
 From Babylon- a masterly retreat. 
 
 And with old mythic Homer trod the path 
 Of Trojan troubles and Achilles’ wrath. 
 
 COMPOSITIONS AND DECLAMATIONS. 
 
 But our rough sketch of academic life. 
 
 Of classic drill and literary strife. 
 
 Would not be half complete should we pass by 
 Those tests of youthful skill and bravery— 
 
 The two great lions in each schoolboy’s way. 
 
 That filled his heart with terror and dismay. 
 
 To waylay one, he burned the midnight oil. 
 
 With sleepless industry and mental toil. 
 
 And wrote at last the third or fourth edition- 
 
82 
 
 Of soi:aething whicli he called a composition. 
 
 But no such private warfare could he wage 
 To kill the other, for upon the stage, 
 
 In sight of all and without hesitation. 
 
 He was obliged to speak his declamation. 
 
 And when, with show of courage well dissembled— 
 Although his knees, like old Belshazzar’s, trembled— , 
 He marched upon the platform, with the eyes 
 Of schoolmates turned like hostile batteries 
 Upon his unprotected person, need I tell 
 He might have faced the cannon’s mouth as well ! 
 
 0 lucky wight was he upon the start. 
 
 If what he thought he knew, each word by heart. 
 Had not completely vanished from his mind 
 And left a perfect vacuum behind. 
 
 But if his soul, more manful, did not melt 
 With fear, and he succeeded, then he felt 
 As much relieved, when his whole part was acted, 
 
 As if an aching tooth had been extracted. 
 
 THINGS OMITTED. 
 
 As to a thousand other things we did 
 And suffered in those days, time will forbid 
 My pen to note; one half of them to mention 
 Would sadly trespass on your kind attention. 
 And first, reluctantly, I must omit 
 The story of the wisdom and the wit. 
 
 Which every Wednesday evening we expended 
 In the Lyceum, whose debates transcended. 
 
 In dignity and tact professional. 
 
 Some that m’e heard in halls congressional. 
 
33 
 
 And lest this seem of vanity a touch, 
 
 I would remark, it is not saying much ! 
 
 I must omit, too, even an allusion 
 
 To what sometimes produced no small confusion 
 
 In all our studies, and upset us quite. 
 
 Preventing work by day and sleep by night; 
 
 I mean the influence of certain curls 
 Belonging to confounded pretty girls. 
 
 How this affected things in after life— 
 
 If you do not remember, ask your wife. 
 
 Nor have I time to tell of those long walks. 
 
 Set to the music of gay laughs and friendly talks. 
 When the whole school would start off with a will 
 To scour some wild wood or ascend some hill. 
 
 THE DISPERSION. 
 
 But soon the time of separation came. 
 
 The time to strike our temporary tents. 
 
 And into scenes of active service march. 
 
 Camps of instruction are but means, not ends. 
 
 And when the new recruit is fully trained 
 In every necessary tactic, then ^ 
 
 His trade is learned and he must practice it. 
 
 With sad yet hopeful hearts we bid farewell 
 To scenes and friends we ne’er might meet again. 
 Spoke one kind parting word and shed one tear. 
 And then, ambitious for the stirring field. 
 
 Each hastened to the post assigned for him. 
 
 How scattered and how variously employed, 
 
 How distant and how multiform our paths ! 
 
 How much success, how much adversity, 
 
 3 
 
34 
 
 How many shiftings and vicissitudes 
 
 Have compassed us about and shaped our lives, 
 
 And cast our fortunes where we find them now ! 
 
 PRESENT DIRECTORY. 
 
 Some walk the deck where the wild ocean roars, 
 Some seek for gold on Californian shores; 
 
 Some on the western prairies find a home. 
 
 Some tread the ancient halls of Greece and Rome 
 Some, leaving earth’s emoluments behind. 
 
 And looking heavenward for their laurels, find 
 Love for their hearts and labor for their hands 
 Among benighted tribes in heathen lands ; 
 
 And though long sundered and afar away. 
 
 Their names are not forgotten here to-day. 
 
 Some, satisfied, and wisely too I ween. 
 
 With paths familiar and long trod, are seen 
 Behind the plough upon those good old hills. 
 
 Left and bequeathed them in their fathers’ wills ; 
 Contented, happy, free from anxious care. 
 
 They live and thrive and will be buried there. 
 But many a restive one the old way quits. 
 
 Hoping to make a living by his wits— 
 
 Which put to good account, we must confess. 
 
 Do sometimes bring a harvest of success. 
 
 The crop,, however, ’s more uncertain far 
 Than corn, beans, wheat and barley are. 
 
 Some, having eyes as good as plumbs or squares 
 Are skillful in mechanical affairs. 
 
 And master well each kind of useful art. 
 
 From whittling sticks to making every part 
 
35 
 
 Of a steam-engine or chronometer, 
 
 A ship, piano, or micrometer. 
 
 Some in the school-room spend their energies. 
 Training the youthful mind in all degrees 
 Of useful knowledge, and in all the arts 
 Of acting worthy, honorable parts. 
 
 These are recruiting officers ; how well 
 Their service is performed we soon can tell. 
 
 For in life’s conflict those which they incite 
 Will show their training by the way they fight. 
 
 Some in the sacred desk proclaim the word. 
 The power and coming kingdom of the Lord ; 
 
 A fearful trust is that their lives fulfill. 
 
 To stand as watchmen upon Zion’s hill; 
 
 Their feet are beautiful, for, lo ! they bring 
 Good tidings and the peace which angels sing. 
 Pray that their cause may prosper, and the reign 
 Of truth extend o’er every sea and main. 
 
 Some, of a literary turn of mind. 
 
 In writing books their chief employment find ; 
 
 Or, if of active thought and ready means. 
 
 Edit newspapers, publish magazines. 
 
 And thus wield mighty powers of enginery 
 For good or evil, as the case may be. 
 
 Some seem for medicine to have a taste, 
 
 And spend their lives in making pills and paste— 
 Of which sometimes a little is first-rate ; 
 
 In fact, the less the better, I might state. 
 
 For of their physic often just the fears 
 Will keep a man in health for many years. 
 
 In other cases, nothing but the smell 
 Of a good doctor makes the patient well. 
 
36 
 
 But jokes aside, our good Academy 
 
 Has no more honored sons than those we see, 
 
 With self-denying toil and slight repose. 
 
 Attempting to avert the many woes 
 That flesh is heir to, and with soul and heart 
 Assisting Nature in the healing art. 
 
 Some take up Law—a choice we won’t condemn, 
 For Law is often known to take up them. 
 
 And if the small experience of Law, 
 
 Most people have, leads them to dread its paw, 
 How should they pity those deluded men 
 Who, so to speak, dwell in its very den ; 
 
 But, as the world is, we must all allow. 
 
 Lawyers are necessary evils now. 
 
 And it is hardly fair in us to scout them. 
 
 When we admit we could not do without them ; 
 And certainly it is their due to say 
 That they will sometimes tell a man the way 
 To keep out of much useless litigation. 
 
 Which is the very best of information. 
 
 The practice of the Law with equity. 
 
 And from the taint of fraud and baseness free. 
 
 Has not a rival calling which exceeds 
 The worth and honor of its noble deeds. 
 
 Some, shrewd and skillful in financial lore. 
 Mighty at keeping gold and getting more. 
 
 With large and interest-ing distributions. 
 
 Are managing our moneyed institutions. 
 
 Upon their stocks, what rate per cent, they get. 
 How they invest, and what their incomes net. 
 
 Are questions which are naught to you and me, 
 Provided all is done with honesty. 
 
37 
 
 Some, in exchange and market prices wise, 
 
 Are dealing still in freights and merchandise— 
 Merchants and tradesmen, an industrious class. 
 
 Who well (if fairly) earn what they amass. 
 
 Some, with the limner’s wondrous power inspired. 
 With fancy filled and with ambition fired,' 
 
 Upon the speaking canvas leave their name 
 To future honor and the roll of Fame. 
 
 TOO NUMEROUS TO MENTION. 
 
 But why enumerate in this review 
 
 The trades and callings which they each pursue ? 
 
 All things that any body ever did. 
 
 Unless unworthy, or by law forbid. 
 
 With vigorous hand and intellectual brow 
 The children of our school are doing now. 
 
 While we a few in glad reunion meet. 
 
 The many, far and wide with hurrying feet. 
 
 To-day are pressing toward their several goals 
 With tireless spirits and courageous souls. 
 
 Some with material tools are working still. 
 
 Others with implements of mind and will; 
 
 Some boldly striving here, some suffering there. 
 Some burdened with the weight of anxious care. 
 Some well and wisely filling public stations. 
 
 Some paragons in private situations ; 
 
 And some, God bless them, sword in hand. 
 
 Fighting the battles of their father-land. 
 
 Oh! in the coming stern and deadly strife. 
 
 In which they risk their fortunes and their life. 
 
 Kind Heaven protect them ’midst the cannon’s roar. 
 
38 
 
 Where steel meets steel, and fiery death-shots pour. 
 And when on trembling wires the tidings come 
 Of the great, bloody conflict’s hecatomb, 
 
 Of routed, flying columns rushing by. 
 
 And half dismayed we ask. Who fly ?—who fly ? 
 God grant the answer evermore may be. 
 
 The scattered cohorts of the enemy ! 
 
 GONE BEFORE. 
 
 And some, ah ! many, cherished long ago. 
 
 Are fallen now, and weeping willows grow 
 In sadness over their untimely graves. 
 
 No rich and costly sculptured marble saves 
 Their names and memories one half so well 
 As our torn, bleeding hearts the records tell. 
 
 In silence still we drop the sorrowing tear. 
 
 And sadly, vainly, wrongly wish them here. 
 
 O may our lives to others be such joy. 
 
 By every virtuous, generous employ. 
 
 That when the willows weep o’er you and me. 
 
 We still shall leave a blessed memory. 
 
 A BENEDICTION. 
 
 Friends we have met to show the love we bear 
 Toward the old, honored institution, where. 
 
 In times gone by, a welcome home we found. 
 
 With rich and plenteous tables spread around. 
 
 At her full board we feasted every day. 
 
 And never empty were we sent away. 
 
 Hers was the food that nourishes the mind— 
 
 She fed us freely as a mother kind ; 
 
39 
 
 And never shall our grateful hearts forget 
 Where’er we roam, she is our mother yet! 
 
 Though many a year of absence intervene, 
 
 Though many a lake and mountain come between, 
 The language of our hearts shall always be, 
 
 Long life to Appleton Academy ! 
 
 Long may she gather in her ample fold 
 A growing, happy flock, and, as of old. 
 
 Dispense the blessings of her wine and corn. 
 
 With bounty new, to thousands yet unborn. 
 
 PRO PATRIA. 
 
 Here might we cease, but a dark cloud I see, 
 
 A gathering tempest rising fearfully ; 
 
 Death and destruction follow in its track— 
 
 0 God of battles ! turn the whirlwind back. 
 
 My Country—prince of nations—can it be 
 So short a life is all thy destiny ? 
 
 Was it for this the fathers shed their blood. 
 
 Was it for this through fiery paths they trod ? 
 
 Was it for this, ’mid storm and strife, they reared 
 A mighty empire, honored, loved and feared ? 
 
 And must the western world’s great beacon light 
 Go out so soon in everlasting night ? 
 
 Have patriots lived their lives in vain ? 
 
 Must order die that anarchy may reign ? 
 
 0 happy Union, guardian of the free, 
 
 The home of Peace, of Law, of Liberty. 
 
 Patron of Science, faithful friend of Art, 
 
 Revered and cherished by each loyal heart. 
 
 Of schools the great protector and creator, 
 
40 
 
 The Alma Mater of our Alma Mater ; 
 
 Joy of proud millions in their happy home, 
 
 And promised joy of millions yet to come. 
 
 Under the shadow of its fostering wing 
 Each noble industry developing-— 
 
 Growth and prosperity unknown before, 
 
 Making a nation’s cup with wealth run o’er. 
 Commerce, with rapid wheels and spreading sails. 
 
 Its great producer and defender hails. 
 
 The husbandman, with peace and plenty blest, 
 
 ’Neath his own vine and fig-tree sits at rest. 
 
 Eeligious freedom, equal civil rights. 
 
 All join to make a land whose shore invites 
 The victims of oppression everywhere. 
 
 To seek its shelter and its blessings share— 
 
 Blessings such as the all-observing sun 
 
 In his whole course ne’er elsewhere looks upon ! 
 
 And shall vile hands in Vandal wrath destroy 
 This precious fabric of our hope and joy ? 
 
 Shall thrice accursed feet tread in the dust 
 The sacred banner of our pride and trust ? 
 
 By all the hardships that our fathers bore— 
 
 By all the blood they shed on fields of gore— 
 
 By all they wrought when the great work was done— 
 By the immortal name of Washington— 
 
 By our past history and all its charms— 
 
 By our heroic brothers now in arms— 
 
 By all our hopes in peaceful age to die— 
 
 By all our duty to posterity— 
 
 To Heaven we raise the death-averting prayer 
 And on the altar of our country swear. 
 
 Traitors shall not our blessed Union sever— 
 
 The glorious Stars and Stripes shall float forever ! 
 
CHRONICLES 
 
 The word of the Prophet Benammi, which is written in the 
 ^ok of Jasher. 
 
 Chapter I. 
 
 The Building of the first Academy, at 
 the close of the Revolution. The 
 vision of the three-score-and-twelve 
 Sycamore Trees, and of the three 
 Ears of Corn. The children of the 
 land taught by John, whose surname 
 was Hubbard. 
 
 1. And there ivas war and pesti¬ 
 lence in the land: for the King of 
 the East sent choice and mighty men 
 of valor, chief of the Princes, that 
 were apt to the tear and to battle, 
 who spoiled our people, and smote 
 the land in all the length and breadth 
 thereof ; 
 
 2. Andfell upon our hosts atHesh- 
 bon, which is, by interpretation, Lex¬ 
 ington, and at Pihahiroth, which is, 
 by inter2:>retation. Bunker Hill, be¬ 
 tween Migdol and the sea ; over 
 against Baalzephon, which is Bos¬ 
 ton. And the Ark of our Liberty 
 was driven to and fro upon the wa¬ 
 ters. 
 
 3. Then said Stephen, the priest, 
 whose surname was Farrar, to John, 
 the physician, who dwelt in the land 
 of Gilead, which is, by interpretation, 
 New Ipswich : ''Look forth and de¬ 
 clare unto me if thou canst see Ara¬ 
 rat, upon which the Ark may rest.” 
 
 4. Then John lifted up his voice 
 and wept, saying : "Nary rat.” 
 
 5. And it came to pass that after¬ 
 ward the hosts of the King of the East 
 were delivered into our hands, and 
 the waters were abated from off the 
 earth, and the Ark rested on the 
 Mount. 
 
 6. Then Stephen, the priest, and 
 John, the physician, and Charles, 
 whose surname was Barrett, a coun¬ 
 cillor in the land, with others, elders 
 among the people, decreed a taberna¬ 
 cle to be built thereon, where the Ark 
 had rested, and they called the hill 
 the "Hill of Knowledge.” 
 
 7. Then spake Stephen and said: 
 "Lo ! a foolish son is a grief to his 
 father, and is a vain babbler, even as 
 one of those who look up)on the ivine 
 when it is red, and go to seek mixed 
 ivine. 
 
 8. For, verily, is our land with¬ 
 out wisdom; if Saul, the son of Kish, 
 sought for his beasts of burden, their 
 multitude would be as grasshoppers 
 and their name Legion.” 
 
 9. Then Charles, the councillor, 
 answered and said: "Thou speak- 
 est truly, nor will I abate one jot or 
 one tittle of the words of thy mouth. 
 
42 
 
 CHRONICLES. 
 
 Build loe, then, a tabernacle, that our 
 sons may he as plants grown up in 
 their youth, and that our daughters 
 may he as corner-stones, polished 
 after the similitude of a palace.'’^ 
 
 10. Then John, the physician, 
 cried aloud and said: ^^Lo ! for 
 these many years have I wrestled ivith 
 folly, even as Jacob, descending from 
 his ladder, wrestled with the Angel, 
 when his thigh was out of joint at the 
 last round. 
 
 11. Charles hath said, so let 
 it he, that within this tabernacle a 
 wise man may give our children wis¬ 
 dom, and if peradventure they shall 
 he stiff-necked and rebellious, let him 
 harden his heart, and lift his hand 
 against them and smite them hip and 
 thigh. Yea, until they do cry aloud, 
 let him spare not. 
 
 12. And behold, within the taber¬ 
 nacle can our children tarry at 
 noons, and stay themselves with fla¬ 
 gons, and be comforted ivith apples. 
 
 13. And when the time cometh to 
 marry, and be given in marriage, 
 our daughters may come up hither 
 to draw beaux at a venture, even as 
 the archer, who smote Ahab, King 
 of Israel.” 
 
 14. ^ Then John fell asleep, and 
 dreamed a dream, and, lo! three- 
 score-and-twelve Sycamore trees 
 stood afar off upon a mountain. 
 
 15. And beyond the Sycamore 
 
 trees there was a palace, and in the. 
 court of the palace there was a great 
 multitude, and songs and f eastings, 
 and dancing and mirth. 
 
 16. And there were those skillful 
 to play upon the timbrel and the harp, 
 and brass-bands and contrabands, 
 and all manner of sweet melody. 
 
 17. And, lo, three ears of corn 
 sprung up before the multitude and 
 made obeisance. And two ears were 
 comely and well-favored ears, rank 
 and good ; but the third ear was a 
 thin ear, blasted by the east wind, 
 one of the lean kind. 
 
 18. And the multitude plucked 
 the two well-favored ears, and cher¬ 
 ished them; but the thin ear they 
 cast into the fire. 
 
 19. Then John awaked, and, be¬ 
 hold, it was a dream. And he ivas 
 troubled, and commanded Stephen 
 that he should interpret it. 
 
 20. Then Stephen answered and 
 said: ‘ ‘ The Sycamore trees are three 
 score years and twelve, and the mul¬ 
 titude are the people of the land, who 
 shall come together to thefeast of Un¬ 
 leavened Bread, which is the meeting 
 of the Alumni. 
 
 21. The thin ear is the son of thy 
 son’s son, who shall speak to the peo¬ 
 ple, and the two comely and well- 
 favored ears are the two that shall 
 speak with him. 
 
 22. They shall be pleasant to the 
 
CHRONICLES. 
 
 43 
 
 people, and findfavor in their sight; 
 hut the son of thy son’s son shall he 
 laughed to scorn, and he covered 
 with confusion as with a garment. 
 Behold he shall he even as Issachar, 
 couching down between two hur- 
 densP 
 
 23. Then John was exceeding 
 grieved, and rent his clothes, and 
 Stephen mourned with him. 
 
 24. Now, when the elders had 
 decreed the tabernacle to he built, the 
 people from round about brought 
 shekels of gold, and shekels of silver, 
 and tithes of mint, anise, and cum¬ 
 in, and wrought all the work of 
 the tabernacle. And the elders look¬ 
 ed upon the work, and, behold, it was 
 done as had been commanded. 
 
 25. Then the sons and daughters 
 of the land went up to the tabernacle, 
 and sat at the feet of John, whose 
 surname was Hubbard, a discreet 
 man, who taught them wisdom. And 
 the name of the tabernacle waxed 
 mighty in the region round about. 
 
 26. And many came thither from 
 Tadmor, in the wilderness, which is, 
 by interpretation. Mason, andfrom 
 Mesopotamia, which is Ashby. The 
 excellency of Carmel and Sharon 
 teas there; and there came some 
 from the far country of Moab, which 
 is, by interpretation, Lunenburg. 
 
 Chapter II. 
 
 The overturn of the Horse-sheds by 
 the Academy Students, in the Year 
 of Grace 1789. The removal to 
 the second Academy Building, in 
 1817. Sundry Teachers of the 
 Academy. Students’ Hall built. 
 The good reign of Edward. 
 
 1. Now, also, upon the hill there 
 was a Sanctuary, and over against 
 the Sanctuary there was a porch built 
 up, with beams of cedar and rafters 
 of fir, wherein were stalls for the 
 horses and chariots of those who ivent 
 up to the Sanctuary to worship. 
 
 2. ^ Now,there were certain of the 
 young men, who sat in the tabernacle, 
 at the feet of John, who were sons of 
 Belial, of froward heart, clad in 
 sheeps-grey clothing ; but, inwardly, 
 ravening wolves. 
 
 3. And ivhen they saw the porch, 
 nigh to the Sanctuary, they passed 
 by, wagging their heads, saying: 
 “ Verily, there shall not be left of it 
 one stone upon another. 
 
 4. And it came to pass, about the 
 second watch of the night, that these 
 sons of Belial gathered together at the 
 house of a publican and wine-bibber, 
 who dealt in familiar spirits, and 
 tarried for a season. 
 
 5. And they cried out to the pub¬ 
 lican, saying : “Behold f can a bird 
 fall in a snare upon the earth, whei'e 
 no gin is for him ? Give us of your 
 
44 
 
 CHRONICLES. 
 
 new wine, that we may put it into old 
 bottles, and of your tobacco, that %ue 
 may make a burnt offering to Gog, 
 and Magog, and Memphremagog, 
 lest, peradventure, thou be smitten 
 with sharp arrows of the mighty, and 
 coals of juniper y 
 
 6 . And the publican was sore 
 amazed, and straightway did as they 
 commanded. 
 
 7. And after a little time they 
 girded up their loins, and departed 
 from the house, and they reeled to 
 and fro, and staggered like a drunk¬ 
 en man, and were at their wits’ 
 end, that the saying might be fulfill¬ 
 ed, that they should be like a lodge 
 in a garden of cucumbers—in a sad 
 pickle. 
 
 8. But they spake privily, one to 
 another, and went up to the porch, 
 and smote it, and buffeted it, and it 
 fell, and great was the fall of it. 
 
 9. And the people, round about, 
 were sore afraid, and ran upon the 
 housetops, girded with linen ephods, 
 but they wist not what evil had be¬ 
 fallen them. 
 
 1 o. But ivhen morning had come, 
 and the people beheld that the porch 
 was thrown down from its founda- 
 . tion, they rent their clothes and put 
 ashes on their heads, and mourners 
 went about the streets. 
 
 11. But the sons of Belial were 
 bound, and thrown into prison, and 
 
 condemned to pay fourfold, and great 
 fear fell upon them from that very 
 hour. 
 
 12. ^ Now, John, who had taught 
 the people many things, was chosen 
 to great honor, and departed from the 
 land of Gilead. And after him came 
 many who ministered in the taber¬ 
 nacle. 
 
 13. And one, called Luke, a sim¬ 
 ple man, void of understanding, es¬ 
 sayed to teach the people; but the 
 sons and daughters waxed exceeding 
 wroth, and cried: ‘'What portion 
 have we in thee, thou simple one ? 
 though thou wert brayed, like a don¬ 
 key, in a pestle and mortar, thy fool¬ 
 ishness would not depart from thee.” 
 
 14. And the elders were angry 
 with Luke, and dealt hardly with 
 him, and fell upon him, and he fled 
 from before their face. 
 
 15. After him came Hart, whose 
 surname was Talcott; but after the 
 days of his teachings had been few. 
 Hart pantedfor the waterbrooks, and 
 shook the dust of Gilead from his 
 feet. 
 
 16. •[[ And it came to pass, in the 
 eight-and-twentieth year of the build¬ 
 ing of the tabernacle, that the children 
 of the people departed from it. 
 
 17. And the place that had known 
 them, knew them no more, and be¬ 
 came a dwelling for the owl of the 
 desert, and the pelican of the wilder- 
 
CHRONICLES. 
 
 45 
 
 ness, until the coming of the Chief 
 Baker, who fenced it, and digged 
 about it, and repaired the breaches 
 in the wall, and now sitteth under 
 his own vine and fig-tree, faring 
 sumi^tuously every day. 
 
 18. And the elders builded an¬ 
 other tabernacle, near the valley of 
 dry bones, and therein many wise 
 and discreet men taught the people. 
 
 19. And one, whose surname was 
 Coffin, a grave man, whom the peo¬ 
 ple delighted to honor, tarried many 
 years in Gilead, and his acts, are they 
 not written in the records of the 
 land? 
 
 20. ^ After a time came Charles, 
 ivhose surname was Shedd. And, 
 behold, the children of the taberna¬ 
 cle were in tribulation, and sighed 
 for the fieshpots of Egypt. 
 
 21. For, said they : There is no 
 becoming place wherein we may eat 
 our lentils and pottage. Verily, the 
 foxes have holes, and opossums have 
 wherewith to hang from the high 
 trees, but the children of the taber¬ 
 nacle have no place to lay their 
 heads.” 
 
 22. And Charles heard their cry, 
 and was moved to compassion, and 
 took counsel with the elders, that a 
 palace might be builded, wherein 
 should be many mansions. 
 
 23. And they called the name 
 thereof “ Students’ Hall,” and it was 
 
 builded in the valley of dry bones. 
 For, said the elders unto Charles : 
 “Will not our children thereby be 
 admonished of Death on a pale horse, 
 Shedd?” 
 
 24. And Charles answered, and 
 said: “ Verily, your words arejvords 
 of wisdom. Be it even as you have 
 decreed.” 
 
 25. And the children went up to 
 the palace, and abode therein, and 
 lucre filled with all manner of fat¬ 
 ness. And after this, the reign of 
 Charles lasted many years. 
 
 26. ^ In the three-and-twentieth 
 year of the building of the second ta- 
 bernacle,came James, ivhose surname 
 was Colby, a man of perfect heart ; 
 yet in the first year of his reign he 
 was smitten with a grievous affiic- 
 tion,for a certain young man of the 
 land, even the thin ear of the vision, 
 went up to the tabernacle, and sat at 
 his feet, and did that which was evil. 
 
 27. And the heart of James was 
 sorely vexed, and he turned away 
 from Gilead, and departed afar off. 
 
 28. After a season came Edward, 
 whose surname was Lawrence, a wise 
 man , who dealt uprightly, and walk¬ 
 ed in his integrity. And his days 
 were marked by gentleness and peace. 
 
 29. Many children of the people 
 drew nigh unto his loving kindness, 
 and they took sweet counsel together. 
 
46 
 
 CHRONICLES. 
 
 and walked to the House of God in 
 company. 
 
 30. Now the rest of the acts of 
 Edward j and his many hind words, 
 and his goodness, they are graven 
 loith the point of a diamond on the 
 tablets of our memory. 
 
 31. After his abode in Gilead had 
 lasted many years, he departed into 
 a far country. 
 
 Chapter III. 
 
 The coming of Elihu, and the great 
 sin of them that stole gingerbread 
 from the excellent Commissary, Un¬ 
 cle Benny, in 1853. 
 
 1. Then the elders gathered them¬ 
 selves together, and spake, one to an¬ 
 other: '^Whom, noiv, shall we ap- 
 point to minister unto our childrenP’ 
 
 2. And, behold, there came unto 
 them a certain man, having on a wed¬ 
 ding garment, and his name was like 
 the name of the friend of Job, Elihu, 
 the son of Barachel, the Buzite, of 
 the kindred of Bam ; 
 
 3. A comely man, so that there 
 was none like him, and his price was 
 above rubies. And when the elders 
 looked on him, they cried out, with 
 one accord: ^‘Behold, an Israelite 
 indeed, in whom there is no guileP 
 
 4. And they fell upon his neck, 
 and kissed him, and anointed his 
 head with oil, and arrayed him in 
 purple and fine linen ; for their love 
 
 of him was wonderful, passing the 
 lo ve of women. 
 
 5. And they made ready a feast, 
 and killed the fatted calf, and an¬ 
 swered those who inquired what these 
 things meant: ^^It is meet that we 
 should eat veal, for this, our instruct¬ 
 or, was dead, and is alive again, teas 
 lost, and is foundP 
 
 6. And Elihu dwelt in the land of 
 Gilead, and abode in the house of 
 one Amos, a tanner. 
 
 7. ^ Now, there was a certain man, 
 of the tribe of Benjamin, who tarried 
 in Gilead, who sold food to the peo¬ 
 ple of the land, and drove through 
 the region round about in a chariot, 
 crying: ^Ho ! Every one that is an 
 hungered, come ye and buy.’’ 
 
 8. And he called the name thereof 
 gingerbread, and it was like corian¬ 
 der seed, white, and the taste thereof 
 was like wafers made with honey. 
 
 9. Now, when the day of Pente¬ 
 cost, which is town-meeting, was nigh 
 at hand, there were certain Philis¬ 
 tines, who sat at the feet of Elihu ; 
 who took counsel together, that they 
 might eat of this bread, for silver and 
 gold they had none. 
 
 10. Then spake one, lohom they 
 called Nicodemus: 
 
 11. ye not how David ate 
 the shewbread, when he was an hun¬ 
 gered? First, then, let us bind the 
 
CHRONICLES. 
 
 strong man, and then we will spoil 
 his goods” 
 
 12. But another, who was named 
 Bardbbas, rebuked him, and said: 
 “Nag, rather let us take it like a 
 thief, in the night, that no man may 
 behold us.” Now, Barabbas was a 
 robber. 
 
 13. And it came to pass, about the 
 sixth hour of the night, that these 
 Philistines drew nigh unto the char¬ 
 iot, and despoiled it in basket and in 
 store, till its burden was clean gone 
 forever. And they made merry, and 
 feasted upon it, and wasted their sub¬ 
 stance in riotous living. - 
 
 14. And the son of Benjamin luas 
 troubled, and wept, like the weeping 
 of Jazer for the vine of Sibmah, for 
 he said: “The wicked have lifted up 
 their hand against me, and have 
 dashed me in pieces, like a pottePs 
 vessel.” And his grief was very 
 great. 
 
 15. Now, when the acts of Nico- 
 demus and Barabbas came to the ears 
 of Elihu, he waxed exceeding angry, 
 and went to their abiding place, and 
 behold the dogs licked up the crumbs 
 from beneath their table. 
 
 16. Then said Elihu: “What 
 wickedness is this, that is done 
 among you ?” 
 
 17. And they were speechless; 
 and he said to those that were with 
 him: “Go near andfall upon them.” 
 
 And they were bound, and cast into 
 outer darkness. 
 
 18. And it was so, that all who saw 
 it said, there was never before such 
 deed done or seen in the land of Gil¬ 
 ead. And the people of the land 
 fasted five nights and five days for 
 the wickedness of these Philistines. 
 
 19. And when the day of Pente¬ 
 cost had fully come, the chief ruler, 
 which is the moderator, fell sick, for 
 there was no gingerbread to be min¬ 
 istered unto him. 
 
 Chapter IV. 
 
 The noble generosity of Samuel, and 
 
 the building of the third Taber¬ 
 nacle, even the new Academy, in 
 
 ‘853- 
 
 1. Now there was a certain man, 
 a son of Gilead, who dwelt m Baal- 
 zephon, which is Boston, and his 
 name was Samuel, and he had great 
 possessions ; a just man, who cast his 
 bread upon the waters, and turned 
 him not aivay from the cry of the 
 widow and the fatherless. 
 
 2. And he died in a good old age, 
 filled with riches and honor, like a 
 shock of coi'nfully ripe. 
 
 3. Now Samuel has bestowed upon 
 the treasury of the tabernacle talents 
 of gold and talents of silver, that its 
 power might extend through all the 
 country round about. 
 
 4. ^ Then the elders decreed that 
 a new tabernacle should be built, over 
 
48 
 
 CHRONICLES. 
 
 against the King^spalace. And they 
 called Elisha, the cunning artificer, 
 and Hosea, a man of ivisdoni and 
 understanding, whom the people have 
 delighted to honor, and commanded 
 them that the tabernacle should be 
 built. 
 
 5. And this was the manner of the 
 building: The length thereof was 
 threescore cubits, and the breadth 
 thereof was fifty cubits, and the 
 height thereof was seventy cubits. 
 
 6 . And for the house they made 
 chambers, and against the wall they 
 built them round about, and the 
 length andbreadth thereof was twen¬ 
 ty cubits; and the chambers ivere 
 built and finished with cedar and 
 fir-trees, lohich were brought from 
 the valley of Hinnom, which is To- 
 phet. 
 
 7. And the doors ivere of fir-tree, 
 and the two leaves of the one door 
 were folding, and the two leaves of 
 the other door were folding. And 
 before the tabernacle there ivas a 
 porch, and upon the one side they 
 set up a pillar, and upon the other 
 side they set up a pillar, even like 
 the pillars of Boaz and Jachin. 
 
 8. And the base of the pillars was 
 curiously ornamented with carved 
 work and with carbuncles and pome¬ 
 granates and Quincy granite, and 
 upon the top of the pillars was there 
 
 checkered work ; so was the work of 
 the pillars finished. 
 
 9. And there was a court within, 
 in an upper chamber, wherein were 
 stored divers precious stones—the 
 topaz, jacinth, amethyst, jasper, sap¬ 
 phire and Ananias, the sardius and 
 sardines, beryls, chryso-beryls, and 
 half-beryls. 
 
 10. And there were also in the 
 chamber lizards, snakes, and scorpi¬ 
 ons, and every manner of creeping 
 thing after his kind. 
 
 11. Andover against this cham¬ 
 ber there was another chamber, 
 wherein were the bowls and the snuff¬ 
 ers and the golden candlesticks, and 
 the air-pumps and the brazen censers, 
 of \% 6 o, and the electrical machines, 
 and the pots and the shovels and the 
 basons. 
 
 12. And the roof was overlaid 
 with precious stones. Round the 
 roof were railings of fretted work, 
 and on the top thereof was a tower, 
 wherein watchmen might stand con¬ 
 tinually night and day, to cry aloud 
 if peradventure aught unclean drew 
 nigh the tabernacle. 
 
 13. Andfrom the tower were hung 
 two flags, diverse from the flags in 
 which Moses was laid by the river^s 
 brink. 
 
 14. And in the court before the 
 tabernacle there was a dial, like the 
 dial of Ahaz, on which the shadow of 
 
CHRONICLES. 
 
 49 
 
 15. And the ivalks in the court 
 were laid with brick, made without 
 straw, and daubed ivith untempered 
 mortar. 
 
 16. But many chief of the fathers, 
 
 who were ancient men, that had seen 
 the first house, when the foundation 
 of this house was laid before their 
 eyes, wept with a loud voice, and 
 many shouted aloud for joy, that the 
 saying of the prophet Ezra might be 
 fulfilled. , 
 
 17. And the people gathered to¬ 
 gether, with songs and dances, and 
 with timbrels, sackbuts, psalteries, 
 and instruments of ten strings, and 
 made sweet mdody. 
 
 18. Then they killed the young 
 lamb and the fatting, and prepared 
 a feast, and ate, drank, and made 
 merry, and there was joy and glad¬ 
 ness throughout all the land. 
 
 19. And Elihu sat in the taber¬ 
 nacle, and called before him the 
 children of the people by a tinkling 
 cymbal, giving them good counsel 
 and wise precepts. 
 
 20. And the children hearkened 
 unto his sayings, to give heed to his 
 counsels, and his name waxed mighty 
 among his fellows, and they brought 
 him shekels of silver and gold, and 
 spices, and frankincense and myrrh, 
 and changes of raiment. So that, 
 
 4 
 
 in all the land of Gilead, there was 
 no tabernacle like this. 
 
 Chapter V. 
 
 The advent of a certain itinerant Phy¬ 
 sician to the Halls of the Academy 
 in 1861, and the mystery of his 
 translation and departure. 
 
 1. Now it came to pass that there 
 was a certain physician who dwelt 
 in the land of Philadelphia, and he 
 was called Benjazer, which is the 
 son of Glee. 
 
 2. And his substance was a thou¬ 
 sand camels and dromedaries, and 
 ten thousand man servants and maid 
 servants. And of crimson and 
 blue, and purple and gold, and 
 silver and brass, he had great abun¬ 
 dance. 
 
 3. Now Benjazer murmured with¬ 
 in himself, saying: ‘'Is ther^e no 
 balm in Gilead, no kind physician 
 there ? Verily, thither will I go, 
 that I may work gi'eat deeds in the 
 land, and may return to mine own 
 house laden with measures of wheat, 
 and measures of barley, and stores 
 of corn, and wine, and oil, that my 
 wealth may be increased.'’^ 
 
 4. Then he bade his servants that 
 they should make ready his chariot 
 and horses, and scrip, and two coats, 
 and rich apparel, and he departed 
 to the land of Gilead. 
 
50 
 
 CHRONICLES. 
 
 5. Now ichen the inhabitants of 
 the land saw his coming, they great¬ 
 ly wondered, for his driving was 
 like the driving of Jehu, the son of 
 Nimshi, and they spake one to 
 another, saying : “ What manner of 
 man is this ? ” 
 
 6. Then Benjazer answered, and 
 said : “ The voice of one crying in 
 the ivilderness. Lo / swine's flesh 
 is an abomination unto me. Thou 
 shalt not eat of the unclean thing." 
 
 7. And he went up into the taber¬ 
 nacle of Elihu, and set up graven 
 images, and manikins, and dry 
 bones, and jaw-bones, and the people 
 bowed down before them. 
 
 8 . And in his teachings he told 
 what miraculous deeds he had done 
 throughout all the region ; how he 
 had healed the lame, and the halt, 
 and the mark-time, and the blind. 
 Many lepers, also, had he cleansed, 
 and had cast out divers unclean 
 spirits. 
 
 9. And some said among them¬ 
 selves : Surely this is Elias." But 
 others said : ‘‘Nay, he seeketh after 
 the prophets." 
 
 10. And Benjazer was a man of 
 great stature, six cubits and a span ; 
 and upon his feet he had six toes 
 and upwards ; and upon his hands 
 six fingers and upwards. And his 
 
 Indian clubs were like a weaver's 
 beam, and the weight thereof was one 
 hundred shekels of iron. 
 
 11. And many inhabitants of 
 Gilead drew nigh unto his counsels, 
 and sought to touch the hem of his 
 garments, that diseases might depart 
 out of them. 
 
 12. And a certain man sought to 
 anoint him with an alabaster box of 
 precious ointment—which is called 
 Hardy's Salve — saying: “ Lo ! mas¬ 
 ter, here is medicine to lend. Use 
 it here at my expense, without mon¬ 
 ey and without price." 
 
 13. But he spake to them all, say¬ 
 ing : “Except ye cast swine's flesh to 
 the dogs, it shall be more tolerablefor 
 Sodom and Gomorrah than for 
 you." 
 
 14. And they marvelled at his 
 doctrine. 
 
 15. Now, after he had tarried in 
 Gilead many days, he commanded 
 his servant Gehazi that he should 
 make ready his chariot and horses, 
 to depart on a long journey. 
 
 16. And the people were afflicted 
 because of his departure, and cried : 
 “ Ichabod, Ichabod, My glory is 
 going to leave town." 
 
 17. But he took compassion on 
 them, and comforted them, saying : 
 
CHRONICLES. 
 
 51 
 
 “ Yet a little time, and ye shall again 
 see me.” Then straightway he gird¬ 
 ed up his loins, and departed, he 
 and his servant Gehazi. 
 
 18. And it came to pass, as they 
 journeyed on beyond Tadmor in the 
 wilderness—which is Mason—that 
 they came to a place called Beth- 
 Hebron, which is, by interpretation, 
 “ The Slides,” near the king^s high¬ 
 way. 
 
 19. And there arose a mighty 
 whirlwind, that tempestuously tossed 
 the chariot, and Gehazi was stricken 
 down to the earth, and hid his face 
 with fear and trembling. 
 
 20. But Benjazer was taken up 
 into the clouds, ivith his chariot and 
 horses, and no man saw his face 
 upon earth any more. 
 
 21. And Gehazi sought, if per ad¬ 
 venture Benjazer’’s mantle had fallen 
 upon him, but found nothing. Then 
 he arose, and went his way, and told 
 of the things which he had seen. 
 
 22. Now there were certain Gen¬ 
 tiles, who mocked him and laughed 
 him to scorn, saying : “ Verily, this 
 man is full of new wine, for we know 
 that Benjazer departed to the land of 
 Cincinnati, preaching his strange 
 doctrines, and raised a tumult and 
 an uproar among the people.” 
 
 23. And after they had beaten him 
 with rods, and stoned him with 
 stones, they hanged him upon a tree 
 between two legs of bacon, one upon 
 his right hand, and the other upon 
 his left. 
 
 24. But the Gileadites said: “Nay, 
 Gehazi speaketh truly, for Benjazer 
 is certainly departed from among 
 us, and his face shall be seen no 
 more of men.” 
 
 25. And they mourned greatly for 
 Benjazer ; and his marvellous deeds, 
 are they not told in the land of Gil¬ 
 ead even unto this day ? 
 
 Chapter VI. 
 
 The prosperous reign of Elihu, and 
 the sound of another War in the 
 Land. The Prophet foretelleth the 
 future glory of the Academy. 
 
 1. But Elihu still ruled in the 
 tabernacle, and was prospered, and 
 taught wisdom to a great multitude ; 
 and among them were many daugh¬ 
 ters of the land, damsels comely to 
 look upon. More to be desired were 
 they than gold, yea, than much 
 fine gold; sweeter also than honey 
 and the honey-comb. 
 
 2. And the young men round 
 about cried out with one accord: 
 “Consider the courts of Elihu. How 
 
52 
 
 CHRONICLES. 
 
 amiable are his tabernacles! There 
 are none like ihemP 
 
 3. And they also drew nigh, and 
 listened to his teachings, and were 
 filled with all manner of wisdom, 
 and spake in unknown tongues, that 
 were to the Jews a stumbling-block, 
 and to the Greeks foolishness. 
 
 4. But it came to pass, after a 
 season, that there was again war and 
 contention in the land ; for the child¬ 
 ren of the North said: ^^Have we 
 not Abraham to our father? Go, 
 then, and do his commandments!^ 
 
 5. But the children of the South 
 mocked them and railed at them, and 
 gathered themselves together by thou¬ 
 sands, and tens of thousands, and 
 hundreds of thousands, and smote 
 the land with fire and sword. 
 
 6 . And the children of the North 
 hasted and went down to the conflict, 
 and among them were many from 
 the land of Gilead, even children of 
 the tabernacle, men of might and men 
 of war, fit for the battle, that could 
 handle the shield and buckler; 
 whose faces were like the faces of 
 lions, and were as swift as the roes 
 upon the mountains. 
 
 7. And they girded on their arm¬ 
 or, even the glittering spear and the 
 sword, and were terrible as an army 
 with banners. 
 
 8. And they said one to another : 
 ^'Gilead is mine, and Manasseh shall 
 be mine.^’ 
 
 9. A 7 id they trembled not at the 
 sound of the trumpets, the thunder 
 of the captains and the shouting, and 
 they fought from the rising of the 
 sun to the going down thereof. 
 
 1 o. And, lo, even now their armor 
 is not laid aside, and even now can 
 we hear the trampling of the chariots 
 and the horsemen; and the mid¬ 
 night sky is red with the glare of the 
 battle. 
 
 11. But we remembered, how in 
 the days of old stood Bhineas, the 
 son of Eleazar, the son of Aaron, be¬ 
 fore the Ark of the Covenant, say¬ 
 ing: “Shall I yet again go up to 
 battle against the children of Benja¬ 
 min my brother, or shall I cease 
 
 12. And the Lord said: “ Go up, 
 for to-morrow I will deliver them 
 into thine hand.” 
 
 13. And we were comforted, and 
 bade our children be of good cheer, 
 for He who led his people with a 
 pillar of fire by night and a pillar 
 of cloud by day, would not forsake 
 Its in this our trouble, but would be 
 our rock and our strong fortress, and 
 a shade upon our right hand. 
 
 14. ^ But the eyes of the prophet 
 Benammi wax dim. Yet he seeth, 
 
CHRONICLES. 
 
 53 
 
 an if in a vision, that the land of 
 Gilead shall again flow with milk and 
 honey ; that its garners shall he full 
 to overflowing ; 
 
 15. That this tabernaele shall still 
 send forth blessings without number, 
 and that our children and our child¬ 
 rens children shall come up hither to 
 learn that which is good, and shall do 
 honor and reverence to those who, in 
 old time, established this abode of 
 Wisdom. 
 
 16. Let them walk in their integ¬ 
 
 rity, and fear no evil; neither the 
 pestilence that walketh in darkness, 
 nor the destruction that wasteth at 
 noonday: till, beneath their own 
 vine, and among their own kindred, 
 the silver cord is loosed, and the 
 golden bowl is broken. 
 
 17. To thee, our foster-mother, 
 Hail! Peace be ivithin thy walls, 
 and prosperity within thy palaces. 
 
 18. For my brethren and com¬ 
 panions^ sake, I will now say: 
 ^Feace be within thee!’’ 
 
THE FIRST ACADEMY BUILDING, ERECTED IN 1789. 
 
 THE SECOND ACADEMY BUILDING, ERECTED IN 1817, AND OCCUPIED UNTIL 1853. 
 
EXERCISES OE THE DAY. 
 
 In the Summer of 1861, at the request of a number of gen¬ 
 tlemen, interested in the welfare of New Ipswich Appleton 
 Academy, Mr. Elihu T. Quimby, the present Principal of the 
 school, issued a circular, of which the following is a portion : 
 
 “ The Alumni of the New IpswiCH Appleton Academy will meet at the 
 Academy Hall, in New Ipswich, N. H., on Wednesday, September 18, 1861, 
 for a Social Reunion, and to listen to an Oration by B. B. Kingsbury, Esq., 
 of Cambridge, Mass. Timothy Perry, Esq., of Brooklyn, N. Y., has been 
 engaged as Poet, and Wm. A. Preston, Esq., of New Ipswich, as Chronicler 
 for the occasion. A Dinner will be served and Music provided, and no pains 
 will be spared to make the day pleasant and profitable to all.” 
 
 In response to this call, the Alumni and friends of the Insti¬ 
 tution met at the old Academy Hall, in New Ipswich, N. H., on 
 Wednesday, September 18 , 1861 , at 9 o’clock, A. M. 
 
 The meeting was called to order by Rev. Samuel Lee, of 
 New Ipswich, one of the Board of Trustees, and the following 
 gentlemen were elected officers of the da^q viz.: 
 
 Hea. N. D. Gould, of Boston, President, 
 
 Hon. John Preston, of New Ipswich, Vice-President. 
 
 Col. John P. Clark, of New Ipswich, Marshal. 
 
 Rev. Perley B. Davis, of Andover, Mass., Chaplain. 
 
 John N. Stearns, Esq., of New York, Scribe. 
 
 A procession was then formed, outside, in the following 
 order : 
 
 I.— 3Iarshal and his Aids. 
 
 II.— Brookline Brass Band, under direction of P. H. Clark, Esq., of New Ipswich. 
 
 III. — The escort, consisting of the present Students of the Academy. 
 
 IV. — President, Vice-President, and Chaplain. 
 
 V.— Orator, Poet, Chronicler, and Scribe. 
 
 VI.— Trustees of the Academy. 
 
 VII. — Invited Guests. 
 
 VIII. — Teachers {present and past) of the Academy. 
 
 IX.— The Alumni. 
 
56 
 
 The procession moved through the principal streets of the 
 village to the large hall in the new Academy building, which 
 was soon filled to overflowing with the Alumni and friends 
 of the school, who, in spite of the threatening aspect of the 
 weather, were present from far and near, to do honor to the 
 institution. 
 
 The venerable President of the day—Dea. N. D. Gould, now 
 in his eightieth year, but still hale and vigorous—upon calling 
 the assembly to order, spoke as follows : 
 
 “ I rejoice to stand once more, and, probably, for the last time, upon this 
 consecrated spot, and to meet this interesting assemblage, in which I see 
 intermingled not a few old and familiar faces. This institution is dear to 
 me, and ought to he dear to all who have shared in its benefits and privi¬ 
 leges. How many, scattered through the land, can say ; ‘ My education, if 
 not my character, were formed at New Ipswich Academy.’ 
 
 “ I claim myself to be one of the Alumni. Sixty-four years ago, I spent 
 two weeks within the walls of the building first reared by the founders of 
 the Academy. 
 
 “ With such a limited education as that, of course, you will not expect me 
 to know much, or to be a very remarkable man in the world. And as I 
 have no reason to suppose that any one else will ever tell of my doings, I 
 will take the liberty of using an old man’s privilege, to relate some of them 
 myself. Perhaps there is no one now living, who knows so much of the 
 history of this Academy, as myself; or who can say, as I can, that of the 
 thirty-two original Founders of the institution—of the fifty-five different gen¬ 
 tlemen, who have from time to time been its Trustees, and of the twenty- 
 eight Preceptors who have successively had its charge, 1 have known every one, 
 and have been intimately acquainted with most of them. 
 
 “In regard to my own personal labors in life, it hardly becomes me to 
 speak. I will merely say, that, as a result of my before-mentioned liberal 
 education, I have had before me, to be taught in music, penmanship, and 
 other branches, not less than sixty thousand different pupils. And I con¬ 
 sider it worthy of remark, that of all my pupils, only one died while under 
 my charge, and that one was a son of Frye, the converted Jew, aged 7 years. 
 One thing I can say, which, probably, few teachers in these days of compe¬ 
 tition can say truly—I never asked a scholar to attend my teaching, and 
 never asked for a school. 
 
 “ And now, let me tell you, by way of general history, and as showing 
 the changes which time is making, that of those who occupied these stores, 
 workshops, factories, and farms, when I lived in this town and took the 
 valuation, forty-five years ago, very few are now left. Not moi^! than four 
 
57 
 
 or five farms in town are now occupied by the same individuals who lived 
 upon them then. Of the male descendants of the first settlers of New Ips¬ 
 wich, born upon the original homesteads, the late Hon. Nathan Appleton, 
 of Boston, was the last. 
 
 ‘ ‘ But notwithstanding the great changes which time is producing, I have 
 full confidence to believe, that the descendants of those who nobly founded 
 and reared this institution, and all who receive and appreciate its blessings, 
 will hold on and hold out in the good work, and that literature, morality, 
 and religion, may prosper within these walls perpetually. ’ ’ 
 
 A select choir, under the direction of P. H. Clark, Esq.— 
 Mr. George M. Standish presiding at the piano—then sung the 
 following : 
 
 * OPENING HYMN. 
 
 BY G. M. S. 
 
 Oh Thou, who art o’er all— 
 
 Our Lord—Nature’s great King— 
 
 Accept our feeble notes of praise— 
 
 The tribute that we bring. 
 
 We thank Thee for this day 
 On which we congregate. 
 
 Thy former watch-care to rehearse, 
 
 Thy mercies celebrate 
 
 Thou wert our Guide in youth. 
 
 Thy kind protecting care 
 Was o’er us to preserve from ill, 
 
 And sin’s enticing snare. 
 
 Through all the chance and change 
 Of this, our mortal life, 
 
 We look to Thee—our strong defense. 
 
 For succor in the strife. 
 
 Regard our humble prayer. 
 
 Be present with thy grace, 
 
 And at the last receive us all 
 In Heaven—thy dwelling-place. 
 
 Prayer was then offered by the Chaplain, Rev. P. B. Davis, 
 followed by singing by the choir. 
 
 The Orator of the day, B. B. Kingsbury, Esq., then delivered 
 an able and interesting address upon “ True Heroism,” and its 
 connection with the life of the scholar. 
 
58 
 
 A well-written Poem was then read by Timothy Perry, Esq., 
 which was received with great favor by the audience. 
 
 This was followed by the quaint and amusing “ Word of 
 the Prophet Benammi,” by William A. Preston, Esq., the 
 Chronicler of the occasion. The ancient and allegorical style 
 in which the Prophet treated of numerous incidents in the 
 history of the Academy, provoked hearty merriment among 
 the most dignified in the assembly, and was an excellent pre¬ 
 parative for a good dinner. 
 
 On motion of Mr. Quimby, the following resolution was 
 unanimously adopted : 
 
 ‘ ‘ Resolved^ That the thanks of the Alumni and friends of New Ipswich 
 Appleton Academy are hereby tendered to the Orator, Poet, and Chronicler, 
 for their exceedingly entertaining productions, and that they are requested 
 to furnish copies of the same for publication.” 
 
 The exercises in the Hall were then brought to a close by 
 singing, to the tune of Auld Lang Syne, the following hymn, 
 written for the occasion : 
 
 CLOSING HYNTN. 
 
 BY T. P. 
 
 Hail Appleton Academy ! 
 
 Friend of our early days; 
 
 In good or ill, we love thee still. 
 
 And love to sing thy praise. 
 
 Ho, Appleton Academy! 
 
 A blessing on thy store. 
 
 Health, wealth and peace, prosperity, 
 
 Go with thee evermore. 
 
 We thank thee for thy fostering care 
 On us in youth bestowed. 
 
 For counsel dear, and words of cheer, 
 
 Through learning’s rugged road. 
 
 Ho, Appleton Academy! 
 
 A blessing on thy store, 
 
 Health, wealth and peace, prosperity, , 
 
 Be with thee evermore. 
 
 Thy sons and daughters, scattered now 
 In regions far and wide. 
 
 Cherish thy name, and tell thy fame 
 With fondness and with pride. 
 
59 
 
 Ho, Appleton Academy! 
 
 A blessing on thy store, 
 
 Health, wealth and peace, prosperity. 
 
 Go with thee evermore. 
 
 Long may thy copious fountains flow 
 In streams that ever swell. 
 
 And many a lip the nectar sip. 
 
 As from a living well. 
 
 Ho, Appleton Academy! 
 
 A blessing on thy store. 
 
 Health, wealth and peace, prosperity. 
 
 Go with thee evermore. 
 
 The procession then re-formed in the same order as before, 
 and marched back to the Common ; and after listening to 
 several excellent pieces from the Band, entered the Congrega¬ 
 tional church, the Band occupying the choir gallery, and dis¬ 
 coursing short snatches of stirring music between the various 
 exercises which followed. 
 
 After the audience were seated, and called to order .by the 
 President, Mr. Quimby stated that, owing to the usual delays 
 in getting dinner when people have company, the assembly 
 would be compelled to exercise a little patience, and console 
 themselves by reflecting that, while they were waiting, both 
 their dinner and their appetites were every moment improving. 
 In the mean time, he would attempt to fulfill the duties of toast¬ 
 master, by proposing several sentiments appropriate to the 
 occasion. He announced the following as the first toast : 
 
 1. The Orator of the Day : Let us all be Heroes, after Ms pattern. 
 
 B. B. Kingsbury, Esq. briefly responded. He said that be Lad already 
 performed his share of the exercises, and it was time others should have an 
 opportunity. He alluded to some of his many remembrances of the Acade¬ 
 my, and closed by hoping that the present occasion, affording, as it did, a 
 renewed opportunity for kindly intercourse between the Alumni, would he 
 productive of great pleasure to all who were in attendance, and promote the 
 prosperity of the institution of learning, whose welfare we all so earnestly 
 desired. 
 
 2. New Ipswich Appleton Academy : The Mother of Poets as well as Orators. 
 
 Timothy Perry, Esq., was called on to respond. He excused himself by 
 
 saying that his duty was already done. He had bargained for the rhyme. 
 
60 
 
 and not for the prose. He could not, however, wholly slight the subject 
 of the sentiment which had just been read. Nothing makes a man value 
 New England schools more than to become familiar with the schools of other 
 sections. He believed there were no schools in the world which excelled 
 those of New England, in thoroughness, and in practical, critical training. 
 He never returned to his native hills without feeling an increased apprecia¬ 
 tion of the advantages of a New England education, and an increased love 
 for the home of his youth. 
 
 At the present time, when the country is uppermost in all minds, he said 
 it was impossible to talk at all without alluding to matters connected with 
 the great struggle now going on for the maintenance of the Government. 
 
 It was his privilege, the preceding Saturday, to visit the camp of the Third 
 New Hampshire Eegiment, at Hempstead, L. I., and to eat a soldier’s ration 
 with one of its officers—an Alumnus of our own Academy. 
 
 Ill closing, Mr. Perry offered the following sentiment: 
 
 The Sons of New Ipswich Appleton Academy, now Fighting the Battles 
 OP OUR Country : God bless them. 
 
 Mr. Quimby said that, in response to the sentiment offered 
 by Mr. Perry, he would i;ake the liberty to read an extract 
 from a private letter, which he had lately received from a 
 former student of the Academy—now a volunteer, serving in 
 the division of General Banks, on the Upper Potomac ; 
 
 “ Camp Boston, Monocacy Junction, ) 
 Maryland, Sept. 6, 1861. ) 
 
 ^‘Honored Friend: If I mistake not the date, the week after next ushers in 
 the gathering of the Alumni of the Appleton Academy. I cannot doubt 
 but that you will have a good time ; and I need not tell you that it would 
 give me no little pleasure to be present. But duty to my country and to 
 the honor of her flag, has called me to arms. I deemed it my duty to 
 respond to the call of my country in the hour of her danger. Our noble 
 flag has been trampled in the dust : a cloud has gathered over the Union : 
 dark treason has lifted its head. 
 
 “ But this glorious Union cannot be dissolved. The freemen of the North 
 must continue to gather around the Stars and Stripes. There must be a 
 greater outpouring of those who love freedom. It cannot be denied but 
 that there is danger. Must we succumb to the boastful South ? Never ! 
 
 “ I, with tens of thousands of the North, have placed my life upon the 
 altar of my country. And, although I long to be with those I love, still 
 while the danger lasts, duty calls me here, and God will protect and bless 
 the beloved ones at home. 
 
61 
 
 “I would joy to meet you and other friends on the festive occasion of the 
 meeting of the Alumni. I shall be with you in spirit. Please to give my 
 sincere regards to all my friends and former fellow-students. ^ 
 
 “G. T. R.” 
 
 The Band struck up Hail Columbia, amid the cheers of the 
 audience, 
 
 3. Our Literary Institutions: The Safeguard of our Freedom. 
 
 William A. Preston, Esq., being called on to respond, and being threat¬ 
 ened with the service of some kind of a writ, unless he came forward, re¬ 
 marked that, if he was arrested, he could easily regain his liberty by taking 
 the poor debtor’s oath—for he had nothing to say. He had already done 
 his duty for the day, and after the kind attention which they had just given 
 him at the Academy Hall, he would not further weary their patience. The 
 sentiment which had been offered needed no remarks of his to make it 
 good. A sufficient defense of its truth was found in the alacrity with which 
 our New England regiments had marched to the seat of war, ready to lay 
 down their lives for the preservation of the freedom which our fathers had 
 bequeathed us. 
 
 4. The Band : We are always ready to hear them. 
 
 Responded to by the Band playing, in excellent style, “ Home, 
 Sweet Home.” 
 
 5. The President op the Day: He represents the generation that is passed: 
 
 May we emulate their virtues. 
 
 Responded to by Deacon N. D. Gould, who said, that it was a very usual 
 thing for men, when called upon to make remarks in public, to plead that 
 they were unaccustomed to speaking. He could make that plea himself, 
 with entire truth, for it was his general custom to sign his name to what he 
 had to say. But the circumstances of the occasion, perhaps, demanded that 
 he should say a few words, and he would begin by boasting. He said that 
 few people had made more noise in the world than he had ; and what was 
 more, he had always tried to have all the noises and sounds that he was re¬ 
 sponsible for, as harmonious as possible. 
 
 We often hear of men who have made their mark in the world. No one, 
 he said, had made more marks than he had ; but they were mostly black 
 marks. No one had flourished more than he had ; though he was obliged to 
 confess that all his flourishing had been done with a pen. 
 
 He said he would close by expressing the hope that all the young persons 
 within the hearing of his voice, if they attempt to make a noise in the 
 
62 
 
 world, will see to it that it is harmonious ; if they try to make marks, they 
 will make none hut good ones, and that all their flourishes may he done 
 with care. 
 
 At the close of Deacon Gould’s remarks, the Band played 
 “ Auld Lang Syne.” 
 
 6. The Original Founders of the Academy: Being dead, they still live. 
 
 Hon. John Preston, of New Ipswich, responded: 
 
 “ ifr. President —I cannot hope to do justice to the memory of those ex¬ 
 cellent men who founded our Academy. 
 
 ‘ ‘ As early as 1787, when hut one Academy had been established in this State, 
 (at Exeter) thirty-two men of New Ipswich, and other towns in this vicinity, 
 hound themselves, by mutual covenants, to contribute their several propor¬ 
 tions to the support of a school in New Ipswich, where the higher branches 
 of knowledge might be taught. In 1789 our Academy was incorporated. 
 Some of the founders had been soldiers in the war of the Eevolution. All 
 were suffering from the embarrassments occasioned by the expenses of the 
 war and a depreciated currency. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Many of them were involved in debt; yet, for the sake of providing the 
 means of educating their children, they increased those debts, and even 
 mortgaged their farms, firmly convinced that they could leave no legacy to 
 them so valuable as a good education. All honor to those noble men, who 
 were so ready to assume pecuniary obligations, that they might open to the 
 youth of their neighborhood the paths of science. We remember their 
 names and deeds with gratitude. 
 
 “ Some of us who now reside in town, rejoice to find in the honorable list 
 the names of our own ancestors, who aided in sowing the seed which has pro¬ 
 duced such rich harvests of knowledge for their children and grandchildren. 
 
 “ We who dwell in New Ipswich have especial reason to render to those 
 men our thanks for their labors and sacrifices. 
 
 ‘ ‘ But for the establishment of this institution, how many of the sons and 
 daughters of New Ipswich, who have gone forth to other States to fill honor¬ 
 able positions, would have been unable to procure the means of acquiring 
 the education which has been the foundation of their usefulness and their 
 honors. But for this Academy, how many of us now here would have been 
 deprived of that measure of education which we now possess, because we were 
 too poor to go abroad for the rich sources of knowledge, so bounteously pro¬ 
 vided for us at home. 
 
 “I fear we do not properly appreciate our educational privileges. We 
 may say of the people of New Ipswich, as did the great Latin poet of the 
 husbandmen of his day : 
 
 0, fortunatos nimium, sua si bona norint.’ 
 
63 
 
 Like the blessed light and warmth of the sun, the pure air which sweeps 
 over our hills, the sparkling water which flows from our mountain springs— 
 all so indispensable to life, and yet so richly provided for us that we scarcely 
 give them a thought, so our Academy, which, from week to week and year 
 to year, sends forth intellectual light and heat, and water to refresh and make 
 productive the “barren soils of ignorance,” and creates an atmosphere of 
 intelligence in our midst—because all these results are obtained with so little 
 expense to us, is in danger of being forgotten and neglected. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Sons and daughters of New Ipswich! remember the institution which your 
 fathers established in their day of poverty and privation. Cherish a grate¬ 
 ful recollection of the benefits conferred by it on yourselves and your chil¬ 
 dren. Make every effort in your power to advance its interests and extend 
 its usefulness, and thus testify how great is your love for the memory of 
 ‘ The Founders of New Ipswich Academy.’ ” 
 
 7. Samuel Appleton : We remember him gratefully to-day. 
 
 Rev. Perley B. Davis, replied : 
 
 “ J//-. President —I feel wholly incompetent to respond to the name that 
 has just been read in our hearing. It would be more befitting that yourself, 
 or one much more advanced in years than I am, should speak to the mem¬ 
 ory of one so loved and revered as was Mr. Appleton. I never remember to 
 have seen him but once. It was once my privilege, when a small boy, to 
 look upon his venerable face, and his silvery locks. I did so with a feeling 
 almost of reverence, for I perceived that all around me looked upon him as a 
 great, and good man. 
 
 “The honorable gentleman, who has preceded me in remarks, has said that 
 we owe a debt of unspeakable gratitude to those who founded this institution 
 in our midst. Now, Sir, in Natural Theology, the argument for God’s omni¬ 
 potence is no more conclusive from the act of creation than from the act of 
 preservatim. Others created this institution, but Mr. Appleton has been fore¬ 
 most in preserving it. We therefore ewe equal gratitude to him as to them. 
 
 “But we should not only remember Mr. Appleton as deserving of our 
 gratitude; we should also remember him as worthy of our imitation. A dis¬ 
 tinguished German poet has said, ‘ We learn only from those we love.’ 
 
 “We all love the memory of Mr. Appleton : we ought therefore to learn 
 the lesson which his life teaches. He went forth from this place ; and by un¬ 
 tiring perseverance, by uncompromising integrity, and implicit reliance upon 
 God, he carved out his way to fortune and to fame ; to a fortune which has 
 blessed the world, and to a fame which Christian philanthropy will ever de¬ 
 light to honor. Students in this Academy, while they enjoy the fruits of his 
 munificence, ought to find the purpose strengthening within them to go 
 forth and follow in his footsteps. Especially in this hour of our country’s 
 need do we want men firm to principle and truth . I have thought that the 
 
64 
 
 bust of Mr. Appleton in yonder hall, from which we have just come, speaks 
 to us to-day ; and that those marble lips would part, and those marble eyes 
 would kindle, to express a holy indignation, if any one who has been benefited 
 by his contributions should now prove recreant in devotion to country and to 
 freedom. 
 
 “I close with the following sentiment : May all who have been been 
 benefited by Samuel Appleton’s munificence, be benefited also by imitating his 
 example.” 
 
 The Toast-Master then announced that the next reg'ular 
 toast was one to which all were expected to respond by pro¬ 
 ceeding to the vestry of the church and doing ample justice 
 to whatever they might find upon the tables. The sentiment 
 was as follows : 
 
 8 . Dinner is ready. 
 
 The response to this sentiment was unanimous and hearty ; 
 and the five tables—each extending the entire length of the 
 large vestry room—were found inadequate to seat all the 
 friends of the institution who had come to her banquet. 
 
 After all who could be accommodated were seated, they 
 were called to order by the President, and a blessing was in¬ 
 voked by the Chaplain, Kev. P. B. Davis. 
 
 Knives, forks, and spoons were soon in universal requisition, 
 and it did not take long for the company to ascertain, that if 
 seats were scarce, there was nothing else lacking. A better 
 dinner never tempted a man^s appetite ; and by numerous 
 private inquiries as to who was responsible for so superb an 
 entertainment, it was ascertained that the arrangements had 
 been made under the direction of Mr. E. T. Quimby, and under 
 the immediate supervision of E. F. Fox, Esq., and lady. The 
 tables were also indebted to numerous contributions from the 
 generous ladies of New Ipswich, who are noted for under¬ 
 standing what constitutes a good dinner. 
 
 After the company had exhausted their appetites (but not 
 the dishes) it was discovered—greatly to the chagrin of the 
 Toast-Master—that nobody was in a condition to respond to 
 a sentiment. This strange effect was the more singular from 
 
65 
 
 the fact that no drink was served stronger than tea and 
 coffee ; and must be attributable solely to the excellent quali¬ 
 ty of the turkeys, pies, cakes, watermelons, et hoc genus omne, 
 over which it was absolutely impossible to be strictl}^ tem¬ 
 perate. 
 
 ‘‘Under all the circumstances of the case,” it was unani¬ 
 mously voted to adjourn all further exercises to the Social 
 Levee, which was to be held at the New Academy Hall in the 
 evening. 
 
 THE LEVEE. 
 
 In the evening, the large hall in the new Academy, and in 
 fact nearly all the other rooms in the building, were thrown 
 open for a social levee. 
 
 The day had been lowering, but the evening was clear and 
 beautiful. The moon, then just at its full, rose up over the 
 eastern hills in majestic brightness ; and the stirring notes of 
 the Band, as they rung out of the open windows of the hall, 
 and echoed with a mellow cadence through the quiet village, 
 seemed like some witching fairy-music issuing from the moon¬ 
 lit trees. 
 
 The evening realized the object of that part of the pro¬ 
 gramme designated in the call as a “ Social Reunion” of the 
 Alumni. Schoolmates met who had not seen each other for 
 many, many years, and the warm pressure of the hand, the 
 joyous smile of the face, and the bright sparkle of the eye, 
 told of unforgotten and undiminished friendships. A thousand 
 themes of old times and new times filled up the hours with 
 animated conversation, and there was no one in the large 
 company but that seemed to heartily enjoy the occasion. 
 Mingled with the rest, were the present students of the Aca¬ 
 demy, whose intellectual countenances and gentlemanly and 
 lady-like deportment prophesied that they would never disgrace 
 the reputation of their alma mater. 
 
 5 
 
66 
 
 In the course of the evening, the President called the as¬ 
 sembly to order, for the purpose of listening to the remaining 
 exercises, which had been postponed in the afternoon. 
 
 The ninth toast was announced, as follows : 
 
 9. The Alumni : Their name is Legion. 
 
 John N. Stearns, Esq., of New York, responded : 
 
 “ il/r. President, and friends: It was your choice that I should he the Scribe 
 of the day, to take down the sayings of others—and it would not be right 
 for you to expect me to say anything myself. But my heart is too full this 
 evening to allow me wholly to decline the invitation to respond to the sen¬ 
 timent just announced. I feel, to-day, that we are graduates of no mean 
 Academy. We may well be proud of the institution within whose walls we 
 received our education, and of all the memories that cluster round the very 
 mention of its name. How past associations will crowd the mind upon a 
 time like this ! The Alumni of New Ipswich Academy—who can number 
 them—who can trace their path in life—who can speak for them ? ‘ Their 
 
 name is legion,’ and they are scattered all over the land, and in every clime 
 under the sun. A mighty army for good or evil—enough to have changed 
 the fortunes of the day at Bull Bun—enough, if rightly directed, to decide 
 many a battle in favor of good against evil, right against wrong, liberty 
 against despotism ! 
 
 “ This Academy has been in operation seventy-two years, during which 
 time six or seven thousand pupils have received the benefits of its tuition. 
 
 “It was my privilege to attend, more or less constantly, during eight 
 successive years, whose recollections are among the pleasantest of my life. 
 I well remember, now, the cheerful faces gathered within those walls, and 
 how we combined hard study, and the writing of harder compositions, with 
 a little mischief now and then. We had both instruction and amusement. 
 Our teacher told us that instruction was the most important; but sometimes 
 I used to think amusement got the better of instruction. The muffled hell 
 —sheets pinned together—ropes stretched at night across the path of the 
 returning gallant to trip his unwary feet—baskets full of old tinware ready 
 to tip over at the suggestion of a string tied to the door—the Saturday walk 
 to old Whittemore Hill, or some other chosen spot—the annual parting festival 
 at Union Hall—these are among the memories that spring up when I think 
 of my Academy school-days ; and the recollection of months of hard study 
 and close application is a no less pleasant theme. 
 
 “The glory of New England is not her noble hills nor her pleasant 
 villages, but her schools, and the general intelligence and virtue of her 
 people. And her sons are scattered all over the land, in every State of the 
 Union, carrying with them a love of New England institutions, shaping 
 
G7 
 
 public opinion, moulding society, and making their mark wherever they go. 
 Many of them, thank God, are in the army of the Union, fighting for the 
 same principles for which their fathers fought, and for the establishment of 
 which New England itself was first sought out and settled. The gallant 
 Sixth Massachusetts Regiment—the first to march to the defense of Washing¬ 
 ton—by its alacrity and bravery, won golden plaudits from those who were 
 accustomed to sneer at New England, and swept before it every vestige of 
 sectional prejudice. And to-day the sturdy New England man, the brave 
 New Yorker, and the daring Western volunteer are standing side by side, 
 fighting for all that is dear to us and our children. And they shall conquer. 
 To be sure, the clouds are dark at present, but I see ‘ Hope ’ written on 
 them. ‘ I do not remember a night so dark as to have hindered the coming 
 day, nor a storm so furious and dreadful as to prevent the return of a warm 
 sunshine and a cheerful sky.’ All is not lost. War is not the worst calam¬ 
 ity that can befall a nation. We are commanded to be first then peace¬ 
 able. We are bound to transmit to posterity our schools and all our free 
 institutions. Let us lay our live* upon the altar of our country, and if we 
 fall, thank God that we were found worthy to be a sacrifice in so holy a 
 cause. I have great faith that all will yet be well with our country—that 
 the principles of civil and religious liberty will shine with a brighter lustre 
 and a clearer light when the smoke of battle shall be over, and the clash of 
 arms shall be hushed in the permanent triumph of truth and right. 
 
 ‘ ‘ In the act of incorporation of the Academy, passed by the Legislature 
 of New Hampshire in 1789, I find that the institution was founded ‘ for the 
 purpose of promoting piety and virtue.’ This is the true foundation of all 
 our schools and of all our education. 
 
 “ A son of one of our New England men had something of this idea in his 
 head when, inspired by the enthusiasm created by the departure of so many 
 of our brave and loyal men, to fight for God and freedom, he got together 
 a little company of his mates, marched and countermarched them to the 
 sound of an old tin pan, and then made them all take the ‘ oath of alle¬ 
 giance.’ When asked how he administered the oath, the young captain 
 replied that he made them all hold up their right hands and shout ‘ Glory 
 to God !’ Let us all hold up our right hands, and swear ‘by the Eternal ’ 
 that the Union must and shall be preserved ; that these institutions of learn¬ 
 ing shall be preserved, and transmitted unsullied to our children and our 
 children’s children, as the most precious legacy we could possibly bequeath 
 to posterity.” 
 
 10. The Trustees of the Academy : A sacred charge they have to keep. 
 
 Rev. Samuel Lee, of New Ipswich, replied : 
 
 “ 3fr. President —The sentiment just announced presents to us our Academy 
 in a new relation. We have been viewing it as the source of blessings to a 
 
6S 
 
 great number, whose characters have been formed under its influence. We 
 now contemplate it as the object of attention and care to a Board of Trus¬ 
 tees. Kesponsibility and honor are predicated of their official capacity. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Their agency is responsible and honorable, as having its results in and 
 through the medium of an educational institution. 
 
 “ Education is a word of broadest import. It is, to man, the work of life. 
 To form a character is to lay the basis upon which the experience of an end¬ 
 less future is to rest. This world is one vast school, a Common School, and 
 a Primary Department only—as all who make good 'proficiency here, by and 
 by, will pass to a higher department. For this the world was made. For 
 this the divine providence is administered—each element of which presents 
 to us a lesson to he learned. So that, to this great educational institution, 
 God is the Teacher ; over it, and in the care of it, God is Trustee. 
 
 “ Our Academy is a department of this great institution. Its primary 
 object is intellectual culture. Of the importance of such culture, too much 
 cannot be said. 
 
 “It develops ih.Q power of the man. What we call physical power or 
 strength, is only the energy of mind. And the stronger that mind, so that 
 the material organization be correspondingly cultivated, the greater the 
 physical capabilities of the man. But it is education that gives strength to 
 the mind. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Such culture is presupposed in the vigorous exercise of the higher 
 departments of the affectional. The higher and nobler affections depend 
 upon a perception of the truths that belong to their respective spheres. But 
 the extent and the accuracy of the mind’s perception of these truths depend 
 upon the degree of its intellectual culture. Apply this thought to the ex¬ 
 perience of man in the departments, for instance, of the aesthetic, the 
 social, the moral, the religious. 
 
 “Intellectual culture preserves from evil and from sin. I know, indeed, 
 that defect in the moral prepares the way for defect in the intellectual. But 
 the converse of this is equally true, and equally important to be known. 
 The longer I live, the greater my charity. The ‘ sins of ignorance ’ are 
 multitudinous. The dwellers in our sunny South, now in rebellion against 
 their country, are, most of them, honest. They have been deceived. Let 
 now the masses at the South receive from schools and academies what New 
 England has received, and they would turn away in disgust from such men 
 as Davis, and Stephens, and Wigeall, and their diabolical associates. The 
 wretched fallacy of their pretenses would be seen at a glance. The same 
 might be said, in substance, of much of the skepticism of our day on the 
 great subject of religion. 
 
 “ But I am trespassing upon your time. Let me just add, that intellectual 
 culture will give a personal advantage in the career of the future world—that 
 Higher Department of which this world is the Primary. He of highest intel- 
 
69 
 
 lectiial culture, on entering that world, will outstrip all others. That career 
 of the future world involves the knowledge of facts and their philosophy. 
 In no other way can we appreciate Grod’s character, or government, or grace ; 
 in no other way act rightly for the glory of God, or the good of his crea¬ 
 tures. 
 
 “ 0, the intellectual processes of heaven! The curiosity of the human 
 mind will never tire. Its demands will he imperative and ceaseless. It 
 mmt know all things—if eternity is long enough. And the same law of 
 acquisition and cumulative power will obtain there as here. What shall he 
 its high and holy executive power, some day ; and yet beyond—what ? And 
 what a field of investigation I broad as the universe. ‘ All thing? are 
 yours.’ Not a planet, nor a fact of its history or condition, nor a laAv of 
 its philosophy, but is yours, in an ownership present or prospective. 
 
 “ Surely there is responsibility and there is honor attendant upon the 
 supervision and care of an institution for intellectual culture ; and, espe¬ 
 cially, of one whose power for good is as great as we must infer from what we 
 see this day. May its Trustees be guided by the wisdom that is from above ; 
 and may this institution be in the hands of good men and true, through all 
 coming time.” 
 
 In taking his seat, Mr. Lee offered the following senti¬ 
 ment : 
 
 The Teachers of New Ipswich Appleton Academy : They have performed a 
 noble work, 
 
 E. T. Quimby, Esq., the present Principal of the Academy, 
 on being called on to respond, said : 
 
 It would not be modest for him to allude particularly to himself; but 
 so far as the Teachers of the school, taken in the aggregate since the founda¬ 
 tion of the institution, were concerned, the sentiment undoubtedly expressed 
 the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. It was proverbial 
 that teachers were always right —at least in their own opinion ; and it would 
 be very easy for the audience to imagine just what he would say, if he should 
 make a long speech to magnify his ofiice. 
 
 But brevity was the soul of wit; and especially as there were one or two 
 more Clergymen yet to speak—who were as noted for preaching long ser¬ 
 mons, as Teachers were for being egotistical—he would set the excellent 
 example of a short speech, and close by offering the next sentiment : 
 
 11. The Strangers, not Alumni— whom we welcome with us this day. 
 
 Rev. H. Merrill, of Salisbury, N. H., responded : 
 
 “ It is not my favored lot to be an Alumnus of this institution. But will 
 ye add to the regrets of this hour by calling me ‘ Stranger ?’ I thank ye 
 
70 
 
 not for teaching me that word, nor will I learn it. Though indeed I did feel 
 somewhat like one, while staying, over two days, in anticipation of these 
 scenes. But, the day having come, and I had met you, the stranger’s feeling 
 gave way to the joys of a familiar friend '■ propinquus.’’ True, in the con- 
 gression of outward form, we have never met; but in the realm of the spirit¬ 
 ual and intellectual, we have met—how often ! Our hearts have met and 
 heat with common joys and sorrows, sympathies and aims. Methinks, if I 
 could tread the paths where Plato once walked, and talked with his visible 
 disciples, or where Aristotle, eloquent, learned, fruitful of thought, dis¬ 
 coursed with wisdom beyond his times—or where the most enlightened of 
 the jfthenians hung with delight on the lips of Socrates —or where Seneca, in 
 a corrupt age, discoursed of moral rectitude and purity ; even there, me¬ 
 thinks, I should feel like a younger brother, rather than a stranger. Aye, 
 with that mute marble that looks down upon us to-night so serenely 
 (the marble bust of Appleton, in the Academy Hall), I can seem to feel 
 the heating of heart to heart. And as to you. Sir (pointing to the President, 
 Deacon Gould, author of many excellent musical works), I am no stranger. 
 My soul, when a mere boy, communed with you in those touching melodies, 
 and those exquisite combinations of harmony which have gone forth from 
 you to soothe and to cheer, to refine and to bless. 
 
 ‘ Fading, still fading, the last beam is shining— 
 
 Father in heaven, the day is declining.’ 
 
 Long may that last beam shine, lingering on you. ‘ Serus redeas in ccelo.’ 
 
 “ No, Sir, we are not strangers. There is a realm where the intellect and the 
 heart constitute citizenship, acquaintance, friendship, aye, relationship. In 
 this realm, each dweller is to the other 
 
 ‘ As the harp that instinctively sings. 
 
 While the night-breathing zephyr soft sighs o’er the strings ; 
 Eesponds to each impulse with ready reply, 
 
 Whether sorrows or pleasures her sympathy try; 
 
 And tears and smiles on the countenance play 
 Like sunshine and showers of a morning in May.’ 
 
 “'Tire scenes of to-day are like an oasis in life’s pilgrimage, where divers 
 meet from all ways, as if drawn by a common appetency. And who will 
 say that we have not found it as verdure to the eye, as gladness to the ear, 
 as refreshment to the spirit ? So we have seen travelers from places opposite 
 and far removed, meet on some mountain’s top, and as they gaze on the 
 panorama of beauty and sublimity around, they feel a common impulse, not 
 to say a common inspiration of love and adoration. As we sat down to 
 the bountiful repast, on yonder hill, we felt not only the wants of a 
 common nature, but the commingling of brothers’ joys. And I am sure 
 that from the heart of one whom you are pleased to call a stranger, ad- 
 
71 
 
 mitted by your kindness among you, as if I were one of you, there goes out 
 with yours an earnest benison upon Appleton Academy. May its rich, ripe 
 future be beyond the ordinary fulfillment of its past and present full blos¬ 
 soming and promise. ’ ’ 
 
 In closing, Mr. Merrill remarked, that: 
 
 The exercises of the day had been so rich and copious, that there was 
 very little left to be said. He wished, however, to refer to one thing, which 
 otherwise might not appear upon the record. The Oration, the Poem, the 
 Chronicles, and the Speeches, when published, would speak for themselves. 
 But the excellent dinner which had been provided, was in some danger of 
 being overlooked by the reporters, who were a set of men supposed to have 
 exclusive literary tastes. He said it had been his fortune, many times in his 
 life, to sit down to public dinners, upon similar occasions; but his fare to-day 
 had exceeded all former experience. He proposed a vote of thanks to Mr. 
 and Mrs. Fox, for the skill and assiduity with which they had provided for 
 the inner man on this occasion. 
 
 The motion was unanimously adopted. 
 
 12. The Star-spangled Banner: May it Ever Wave over the Vmv'ED States. 
 
 Hon. Hosea Eaton, of New Ipswich, being called upon, re¬ 
 sponded, substantially, as follows : 
 
 “The principal, the heavy work of this gathering, has been done, and 
 well done, and hence I -will not detain you long. When I say, I am happy 
 to be with you this evening, I utter but old and familiar language, wholly 
 unsuited to the expression of the feelings which this occasion inspires. To 
 come together as we have, here, to-day—to look old school acquaintances 
 in the face—to take each other by the hand, and exchange friendly greet¬ 
 ings, kindles, in my own bosom, a commingling of peculiar and indescrib¬ 
 able feelings, that language is wholly inadequate to express. 
 
 “ Enhanced, too, by the manner in which we have been entertained here, 
 to-day, first, by the Orator, whose golden words, in representing the True 
 Hero, must have kindled the flame of patriotism in every heart; next, by 
 the Poet, who possesses the power of saying things in the sharpest, quickest 
 way ; and who, after interesting and delighting us by his good hits, closed 
 with a feeling tribute to the Flag of our Country ; and, thirdly, but not 
 least, by the Chronicler, who plucked, with skillful hand, from the bough of 
 his memory, and the history of the past, those little incidents of school¬ 
 boy life, and pressed them into the cup of the present, all purple and gush¬ 
 ing. As we quaffed the contents, it seemed truly like draughts nectar- 
 sweet, and we found ourselves carried hack and living aver again our schoolboy 
 days; and I doubt not, you, Mr. President, will lay your head upon your 
 
72 
 
 pillow to-night, forty or sixty years younger than when you arose this morn¬ 
 ing, and that your dreams will he of your school-days. 
 
 ‘ ‘ However agreeable and pleasant it would he to speak further of matters 
 german to this occasion, I must forego that pleasure, and address myself to 
 the sentiment to which I am to respond: ‘ The Star-spangled Banner. ’ 
 What its language—what its import—what its meaning? It possesses a 
 world of meaning; it means, our Government, ‘ fairest the sun ever shone 
 upon,’ and all the precious institutions and liberties that we enjoy, both 
 civil, religious, and educational. It represents the Constitution —it is to that 
 treasured instrument we owe all we are as a people ; it has aided to bring 
 out our resources in agriculture, manufactures, and commerce ; it has aided 
 the development of our entire character as a nation ; under it have risen 
 statesmen, military and naval heroes, such as the world has never seen before ; 
 and I doubt not that this crisis will produce heroes and statesmen not sur¬ 
 passed by those who have gone before, and that they will bear the flag tri¬ 
 umphantly through this conflict—every star on its union growing brighter 
 and brighter, till one universal, joyous shout of liberty shall go up, not only 
 from the free North and the great West, but also from the sunny South— 
 Every man must he free, regardless of his condition or complexion ! whether be¬ 
 decked with the roseate hue of the European, or .veiled beneath the sable 
 drapery of the African ; and I will now make another declaration, though 
 I am not going to make a political speech—if the South conquer in this war, 
 they will dictate to you the terms of peace—the same powers that destroy 
 this government will inaugurate another that will make Slavery universal. Why, 
 then, should not we take as bold a position, and, if we conquer (as I doubt 
 not we shall), then make Freedmn universal! 
 
 “ All honor to the gallant Fremont for the noble position he has taken! 
 His course has shown that he understands not only the nature of the disease, 
 but the o^ily remedy that will effect o,permanent cure. 
 
 “ This is a contest of Liberty and Slavery, and one or the other must go 
 down, for they are antagonistic dements, which cannot flourish in the same soil, 
 or exist under the same government. The nations of the Old World have 
 fallen by this mighty destroyer—historians have come from far to study 
 their overthrow, but returned unsatisfied—they fell by a hand imperceptible 
 and subtle. 
 
 ‘ As the stern oak, by some fair streamlet’s side, 
 
 Waves its broad arms, extends its leafy pride. 
 
 Towers from the earth and rearing to the skies : 
 
 Its conscious strength the tempests’ wrath defies; 
 
 Its ample branches shield the fowls of air. 
 
 To its cool shade the panting herds repair; 
 
 But alas! the treacherous current ivorks its noiseless way, 
 
 Its fibres loosen and the roots decay ; ’ * 
 
 Till in ruins lies all. 
 
 By an imperceptible fall. 
 
73 
 
 ‘ ‘ Thus ever has been and will he the operation of Slavery upon human 
 governments. Slavery and Liberty cannot long exist under this government: one or 
 the other must come to an end. Slavery, the sole cause of the present rebellion, 
 rests upon the ignorance of its masses, while Liberty^ the groundwork of loyalty^ 
 depends upon the intelligence of the people for its support. 
 
 “Note this in the present rebellion; in those communities and States 
 where few churches and school-houses are seen, where there is little intelli¬ 
 gence and education, the people are disloyal, and blindly led to believe that 
 this war is brought on by the Yankees, while, where the church-spire and insti¬ 
 tutions of learning are seen on every side, where education and literature 
 have reached a higher point of success, there the people are patriotic, loyal 
 and ready to defend the ‘ Flag of our Country,’ that wherever it floats it 
 may float the emblem of Freedom.’’ 
 
 At the close of Mr. Eaton’s remarks, the band played the 
 “ Star-spangled Banner,” and the audience responded with 
 hearty applause. 
 
 13. Yankee School-Teachers : The South needs them, hut donH want them. 
 
 Martin H. Fisk, Esq., of Temple, N. H. (lately President 
 of Paducah College, in Kentucky), was called on to respond : 
 
 He said he considered himself a poor representative of Yankee School- 
 Teachers, but he was far from being ashamed of his profession. He had been 
 in Kentucky teaching for several years, but since the present troubles he 
 had been obliged to leave, because he was a Northern man. Educational 
 matters are in utter confusion at the South at the present time. Nearly all 
 their schools have stopped, and their teachers—most of whom were Northern 
 Yankees—have, in a majority of cases, been driven away. Even those of 
 them who professed to be secessionists were suspected of being abolitionists, 
 and advised to leave. Such was now the deplorable state of things at the 
 South. But even before the present difficulties, their schools could not be 
 compared with ours. The remark made by one of the speakers who had 
 preceded him was emphatically true—that a man did not know how to ap¬ 
 preciate New England schools until he had seen the condition of schools else¬ 
 where. There were very few parts of the South where common schools upon 
 our system exist at all. And their select schools and colleges were greatly 
 inferior to ours. He believed, as was well remarked by Mr. Eaton, that one 
 great cause of the present rebellion was the ignorance of the common people 
 at the South. They scarcely ever read or think for themselves. He was 
 acquainted with a native teacher in Kentucky who had never studied gram¬ 
 mar. He visited his school one day, and the teacher inquired of him where 
 
74 
 
 he was from. He replied that he was from Hew Hampshire. “Is that in 
 this State?” innocently inquired the man, evidently thinking that Hew 
 Hampshire was the name of some place in the immediate vicinity. The 
 speaker also related a number of incidents to show the present distracted 
 condition of things in Kentucky. One drunken man had succeeded in kill¬ 
 ing two Union men and wounding three or four more in a single day. There 
 was no safety there for any one. He believed that many of the disunionists 
 were honest in their convictions, but dreadfully deluded. 
 
 He had heard a secession sermon preached from part of the 14th verse of 
 the 4th chapter of Hehemiah : “Be not ye afraid of them ; remember the 
 Lord, which is great and terrible, and fight for your brethren, your sons, and your 
 daughters, your wives, and your houses.” The preacher remarked that this com¬ 
 mand was given to the Lews to fight the Northern armies, but he thought it 
 had a prophetic view to themselves in their present oppressed condition. 
 Eeferring to Slavery, he said, these Horthern Abolitionists, for the last thirty 
 years, had been continually waging a war against the most noble and divine 
 institution ever founded on the Continent. He said the South had always paid 
 three-fourths of the expense of the Government, while the Horth had had 
 three-fourths of the offices, &c. Addressing the soldiers, he told them they 
 had embarked in a noble cause, and, if they fell on the battle-field, they 
 would die covered all over with glory; and that future generations would 
 delight to honor their names. He pretended to give some twenty reasons, 
 besides the direct command of the Almighty, why they ought to fight—all 
 of which were received by the illiterate crowd as Gospel truth. 
 
 Mr. Fisk said it was his privilege to receive an important portion of his 
 education at the Hew Ipswich Appleton Academy, and he rejoiced in every 
 indication of its prosperity, both, present and prospective. He would 
 close his remarks with the following sentiment: 
 
 “ The present efficient and popular Principal of this Academy —may he ever prove 
 positive for good, negative for evil, and continue, as he has long done, to 
 shock his pupils / ’ 
 
 Dea. Gould, upon being urgently solicited to favor the audi¬ 
 ence with a song, finally responded by singing the following 
 verse, being an impromptu paraphrase of an Indian war-song 
 of the olden time : 
 
 The sun sets at night and the stars shun the day. 
 
 But glory remains when the light fades away ; 
 
 Begin, ye proud traitors, your threats are in vain, 
 
 For the sons of New Hampshire your boastings disdain ! 
 
 The audience were pleased, but not satisfied, and called for 
 
75 
 
 the rest of the song. The Deacon said the whole song was 
 very long, consisting of thirty-two verses; but as the verses 
 were all alike, he would only sing the last one—which he ac¬ 
 cordingly did, to the great satisfaction of the assembly. 
 
 This closed the public exercises of the evening. The social 
 intercourse and enjoyment, enlivened by the frequent and har¬ 
 monious music of the Band, continued, however, until a late 
 hour; and the company, at last, reluctantly broke up, feeling 
 that they had spent a day crowded with entertainment and 
 pleasure. 
 
 The occasion will be long remembered, by the Alumni and 
 friends of the Academy, as one of the happiest of their lives. 
 The disturbed financial condition of the country, and the de¬ 
 pression in business, occasioned by the war, prevented the 
 Academy from reaping that pecuniary advantage from the 
 meeting, in the shape of donations to its funds, which in other 
 circumstances might have been realized. But the Institution 
 —thanks to the generosity of its friends—is not so poor as it 
 once was, and it can well afford to wait the triumph of its 
 country’s arms for the liquidation of the not very formidable 
 fioating debt which hangs over it, and for the desired increase 
 of its permanent fund. The School itself was never more 
 fiourishing than at the present time, and its prospects never 
 were brighter. Mr. E. T. Quimby, a graduate of Dartmouth 
 College, who has been the Principal for the last ten years, and 
 presided over its interests with remarkable energy, popularity 
 and success, still remains at the helm; and the Trustees feel 
 confident that the ship will continue to sail on, with undimin¬ 
 ished prosperity, while it remains in the charge of so com¬ 
 petent a captain. Notwithstanding the “ hard times,” the num¬ 
 bers of the school are undiminished, and the intelligent and 
 vivacious appearance of the young ladies and gentlemen, who 
 are so fortunate as to be its pupils, was the subject of frequent 
 remark and admiration during the day. 
 
 The friends of this Academy suggest that the “ Social Re- 
 
70 
 
 union” of its Alumni be repeated at appropriate intervals in 
 future years; and they confidently hope and believe that, as the 
 institution is one of the oldest of the kind in the United States, 
 it will long continue to be one of the best, and that its sons 
 and daughters will never be less proud than to-day to own it 
 as their Alma Mater I 
 
 ■WHITTEMORE HILL.