Cambridge Sketches | Page 9

conducive to the sleep of the just and the rest of the
weary. The elderly graduate, returning to the dreamland of his youth,
finds that it has actually become a dreamland and still exists only in his
imagination.
The university has broadened and extended itself wonderfully under the
present management, but the simple classic charm of the olden time is
gone forever.

FRANCIS J. CHILD
Fifty years ago it was the fashion at Harvard, as well as at other
colleges, for professors to cultivate an austere dignity of manner for the
purpose of preserving order and decorum in the recitation-room; but
this frequently resulted in having the opposite effect and served as a
temptation to the students to play practical jokes on their instructors.
The habitual dryness of the college exercises in Latin, Greek, and

mathematics became still more wearisome from the manner in which
these were conducted. The youthful mind thirsting for knowledge
found the road to it for the most part a dull and dreary pilgrimage.
Professor Francis J. Child would seem to have been the first to break
down this barrier and establish more friendly relations with his classes.
He was naturally well adapted to this. Perfectly frank and fearless in his
dealings with all men, he hated unnecessary conventionality, and at the
same time possessed the rare art of preserving his dignity while
associating with his subordinates on friendly terms. Always kindly and
even sympathetic to the worst scapegraces in the division, he could
assert the superiority of his position with a quickness that often startled
those who were inclined to impose on him. He did not call out the
names of his class as if they were exceptions to a rule in Latin grammar,
but addressed each one of them as if he felt a personal interest in the
man; so that they felt encouraged to speak out what they knew and even
remembered their lessons so much the better. As a consequence he was
universally respected, and there were many who felt an affection for
him such as he could never have imagined. His cordial manner was
sufficient of itself to make his instruction effective.
Francis J. Child was the first scholar in his class at the Boston Latin
School, and afterwards at Harvard. That first scholars do not come to
much good in the world is an illusion of the envious. It is true that they
sometimes break down their health by too strenuous an effort, but this
may happen to an ambitious person in any undertaking. In Professor
Child's case, as in many another, it proved the making of his fortune,
for which he did not possess any exceptional advantages. Being of an
amiable disposition and good address, he was offered a tutorship on
graduation, and rose from one position in the university to another until
he became the first authority on the English language in America. His
whole life was spent at Harvard College, with the exception of a few
short expeditions to Europe; and his influence there steadily increased
until it became a power that was universally recognized.
He was a short, thick-set man, like Sophocles, but as different as
possible in general aspect. Sophocles was always slow and measured,
but Professor Child was quick and lively in all his movements; and his
face wore an habitual cheerfulness which plainly showed the sunny
spirit within. Most characteristic in his appearance was the short curly

yellow hair, so light in color that when it changed with age, his friends
scarcely noticed the difference.
During his academic years he created a sensation by declining to join
the Hasty Pudding Club. This was looked upon as a piece of inordinate
self- conceit; whereas, the true reason for it was that he had little
money and preferred to spend it in going to the theatre. He said
afterwards, in regard to this, that he was not sorry to have done it, for
"the students placed too much importance on such matters."
Through his interest in fine acting, he became one of the best judges of
oratory, and it was always interesting to listen to him on that subject.
He considered Wendell Phillips the perfection of form and delivery,
and sometimes very brilliant, but much too rash in his statements.
Everett was also good, but lacked warmth and earnestness. Choate was
purely a legal pleader, and outside of the court-room not very effective.
He thought Webster one of the greatest of orators, fully equal to Cicero;
but they both lacked the poetical element. Sumner's sentences were
florid and his delivery rather mechanical, but he made a strong
impression owing to the evident purity of his motives. The general
public, however, had become suspicious of oratory, so that it was no
longer as serviceable as formerly.
"After