not unfrequently, he eked out, from his own private income, the scanty charity on which they were dependent.

But then there is the Unitarian Divinity school, which now constitutes a distinct department of the University, and must needs, in the eyes of the public, reflect back upon the College its own theological character. There it is, standing, we admit, where it ought not. It is our earnest desire and hope, that this school may soon be divorced from the College. But its existence results from no alienation of college funds for the benefit of sectarian theology. Its building was erected, its professors are supported, by funds bestowed by Unitarians, and with the express design and purpose of providing for the education of Unitarian clergymen ; and for the clerical services which the professors perform for the whole University, they are left without compensation. No trust, therefore, would be violated, should the theological endowments be separated from the property of the College, and given to a distinct board of trustees; and such an arrangement, though not within the scope of a judicial tribunal, might be authorized by an act of special legislation. The building might then be sold, or devoted to other uses, and the school removed to some town, where it should have an independent existence, and be a distinct and prominent object of interest and patronage to the denomination with which it is connected. As friends of both institutions, we would advocate this measure. They would live best apart. The Divinity school is now overshadowed and dwarfed by the College, which, solicitous to shun the charge of sectarianism, doles out its support in scanty pecuniary justice, without extending to its interests the judicious supervision and beneficence, of which it stands in imminent need. Nor, so long as that school exists in nominal connection with the College, can the College, even by the utter neglect or disregard of its concerns, escape the imputation, among ignorant and bigoted people, of lending its influence and patronage to the growth of Unitarianism.

In this connection, we wish to say a few words with reference to the Hollis professorship of divinity. It is made a frequent ground of reproach to the University, that, while the statutes of the professorship require that its incumbent should be a man "of sound and orthodox principles," the venerable Dr. Ware, a well known Unitarian, should have

been for thirty-five years professor on the Hollis foundation. The statements made, and the documentary evidence adduced on this subject, in President Quincy's History of the University, ought to put this complaint for ever at rest. From this, it appears, that Hollis, himself a Baptist, was exceedingly reluctant to admit into the articles of his foundation any religious test, except a recognition of the Scriptures as the most perfect rule of faith and practice." He resisted the introduction of the very words "sound and orthodox," on the ground that New England orthodoxy laid at that time emphatic stress on the obligation of infant baptism; and, though, in a truly catholic spirit, he claimed not the exclusive benefit of his numerous benefactions for those of his own communion, he was unwilling, in express terms, to provide for their perpetual exclusion. Wearied by the importunity of his American friends, he at length consented to the insertion of the obnoxious words; and in fact, in the case of the first professor, his apprehensions were realized, "the divine right of infant baptism" having been one of the points on which the candidate's orthodoxy was tested. The College corporation, therefore, in dispensing with all sectarian tests, in the case of Dr. Ware, complied with the expressly and repeatedly declared desire and purpose of Hollis.

But waiving this point, had an account current been kept between the salary of the Hollis professor and the endowment from which he derives his name, that endowment would have become extinct long before Dr. Ware's accession to the chair; and it would appear conclusively, that, prior to the close of the eighteenth century, the College had invested in orthodox divinity of the said century the entire principal and interest of this much vexed foundation. Hollis made provision for a salary of but forty pounds, then deemed sufficient for the purpose, but subsequently found utterly inadequate. In fact, the funds of the professorship have long since been merged in the general funds of the College, and the continuance of the name of Hollis in connection with it is simply an appropriate expression of respect to the memory of an early and munificent benefactor. But as, in sectarian warfare, the refutation of a serious charge goes for naught, and as a professorship of divinity cannot but impart a sectarian aspect to the institution, why might it not be the wisest policy for the College to cancel that office, now vacant,—

to abolish the chapel services on the Sabbath, and to make the performance of the daily devotional service the duty, as it formerly was, of a part or the whole of the faculty in rotation? We believe, that the religious good of the students would be more surely consulted by making them members of common Christian congregations; and, as for the service of morning and evening prayer, we should delight in the obligation which such a duty would impose upon the instructers to be themselves men of a devout spirit and a religious walk; and we should prize most highly, from our remembrances of former times, the influence and weight of character, which would accrue to them from the regular and appropriate performance of this service.

The causes already referred to go far towards accounting for the present condition of Harvard College, in regard to the number of undergraduates. Pecuniary considerations and sectarian preferences operate largely against it; and we doubt whether it can at present gain increased patronage, if its general course of study continue parallel with that pursued at other colleges, however much more accurate and thorough may be the instruction dispensed. A mere difference in degree will not be appreciated.

But why may there not be also a difference in kind? Why might there not be instituted at Cambridge a course of studies for students of much higher attainments than those now admitted, a course, on which the graduates of other colleges might be just qualified to enter? The present instructers are amply competent to initiate their pupils into the most recondite branches of mathematical and physical science, and to conduct them through the most extensive course of classical reading. Many young men every year enter upon their professional studies prematurely, for the sole reason, that they otherwise have no opportunity of pursuing a regular and profitable course of study. There are many, who would not deem their education completed, so long as there was a higher seminary of learning, to which they could resort. Our highest standard of college education in this country is scandalously low. An intelligent and industrious youth of sixteen may easily reach the first university honors of the country, with attainments which would barely qualify him to enter a European university.

student at Cambridge, who continues his classical studies

through the whole four years, reads in Latin select portions of Livy, Horace, Juvenal, Cicero against Verres and De Officiis, the Medea of Seneca, and the Aulularia of Plautus, and in Greek a nearly equivalent amount. On the completion of this course, he is no more than well prepared to commence reading the classics, no longer as a task-work, but with taste, discrimination, and enjoyment. Even this is a higher point than a student can reach anywhere else in the country. It is absurd, then, to speak of the amount of classical requirements and attainments at any of our seminaries of learning; they must be estimated in the style in which Dickens gives the dimensions of the Lilliputian steamboat on the Connecticut, "thirty feet short by six feet narrow."

But at Cambridge, even this brief and scanty measure of classical learning can be attained only by entire abstinence from several important branches of general culture, and by comparative neglect of the modern languages. If pupils were received at Harvard at nearly the point of literary acquisition, at which they are now sent forth, the institution would become at once, and long continue, without a rival, the University of America. Studious young men from all other colleges, and from every part of the United States, would be drawn together there; and the list of undergraduates would soon exhibit as large a proportion of names from distant parts of the country, as does now that of the members of the Law school, nearly half of whom are from the Middle, Western, and Southern States.

Could such a course as this be established, many of the features of the German university system might be advantageously adopted. The studies to be pursued, the books to be read, might with propriety be left, in a great degree, to the option of the student. Recitations might, for the most part, be superseded by lectures, and by critical expositions of classical authors. The attainment of a degree might be made to depend on a series of thorough, searching examinations. The professors, under such a system, should depend in part for their compensation on the number of students, whom, by their talents and reputation, they could attract to their respective departments. We would not have them, however, without some fixed stipend. A man should be relieved from solicitude about his daily bread, in order that

he may devote himself freely and heartily to intellectual laBut we would take a hint from the plan now generally adopted in respect to the masters of our freighting ships, who receive a monthly stipend sufficient for bare support, but depend for all beyond on a commission upon the freights that they can earn. We would have each professor paid by the College the lowest salary that would suffice for a respectable livelihood, and let him add thereto as much as he can by a tuition fee from every scholar who joins his classes or attends his lectures. On this plan, the College, with its present permanent sources of income, could support a larger number of professors than at present; for, under such an arrangement, tutors and mere officers of police might be dispensed with, a senior professor might be the literary head of the University, and a treasurer might be the only salaried officer other than the professors.

An institution thus organized would be of incalculable benefit to the whole country. Its influence would be at once most sensibly felt in the (so called) learned professions. It would redeem them from the curse of extreme juvenility, under which the land groans. It would prescribe a thorough basis of liberal culture for those who aspire to eminence in professional life. It would fix the scholarly habits of its graduates, and make them reading, thinking, improving men for life; whereas now, half of our graduates can exhibit, ten years after leaving college, no marks of a liberal education except its parchment testimonial. It would raise up a generation of scholars worthy of the name, and would enlist very many so earnestly and zealously in literary and classical pursuits, and give them such facility in the acquisition of knowledge, that they could not fail of attaining eminence as profound critics, original thinkers, and able writers.

But all this, desirable as it is, is more than we can at present expect; though we believe that Harvard University is destined, at some future time, to assume this position; and we cannot but trust, that, by calling the attention of our readers to the need of higher means of culture than are now enjoyed, we may have done something towards the ultimate supply of such means. Very different, however, from the plan which we have sketched, should be the system of discipline and instruction for the class of