As the University grew, the first Faculty of two members gradually increased, though for years the roster was far from impressive. What this first Faculty lacked in numbers, however, it made up in character and ability. One has only to read the whole-hearted and loving tributes of early graduates to discern the powerful personalities which inspired them. It is true that for the most part they were scholars of an older school, content to hand on the classical learning of the contemporary college course, rather than original investigators. But how well they performed this task! They inspired a real enthusiasm and love of knowledge for its own sake in those they taught, and furnished them, as well, an ideal for right living all for five hundred dollars a year. We of a later generation cannot honor them too much.

About these men, strongly individualized in the minds of their students, have clustered stories which have become almost classic. Sharply contrasted in particular characteristics, they have lived as vivid personalities for future college generations in the memories of those students, “who studied syllogisms under the noble Whedon, who polished Greek roots for the elegant Agnew, who bungled metaphysics to the despair of the learned Ten Brook, who murdered chemistry under the careful Douglas whose experiments never failed, and who calculated eclipses of the moon from the desk of Williams, the paternal.” This characterization by a member of the class of ’49 is paralleled in a more caustic estimate of a somewhat later Faculty by a member of the class of ’65 who speaks of “Boise the precise, Frieze the effusive, Williams the plausible, and White the thinker.”

Always first in any reminiscences of the early days was Professor George Palmer Williams, the first real member of the Faculty, always known to his students as “Punky,” possibly, as Professor D’Ooge suggested, because of the “dryness of his wit.” Freshmen were even known to address him as “Professor Punky,” only to be pardoned with a never to be forgotten kindliness when they discovered their awful mistake. Professor Williams was a graduate of Vermont (1825) and came to the University from the Pontiac branch to take the Professorship of Natural Philosophy. He was especially loved, not only for his fatherly kindness and genuine sympathy that won the confidence of his students, but also because “the college student pays unstinted admiration to a witty teacher, for no teacher ever had more ready wit and such genuine humor.” The Rev. Theodoric R. Palmer of the class of ’47, who for ten years was Michigan’s oldest graduate, told how Professor Williams on discovering a goose occupying his chair remarked: “I see you have a competent teacher,” and wished the class “Good Morning,” leaving them to discover the point of their joke.

Professor Williams’ strong religious spirit did not prevent an apt employment of examples from the Scriptures on occasion, as his rebuke to an overgrown and too active freshman showed: “Sir, you remind me of Jeshurun; the Bible says ‘Jeshurun waxed fat and kicked.’” But in the class room he was traditionally lenient. One student who found himself unable to fit his carefully prepared notes and the examination questions together, finally handed them both in and was passed, but only because it was the “wrong year”; “I condition one every other year and if I conditioned you I would have to have you again next year.”

Professor Williams served the University long and faithfully, and only resigned his active work in 1875. In 1876 the alumni established a Williams Professorship Fund which eventually amounted to nearly $30,000. This eased his last years until his death in 1881 at the age of 79 years. Although the fund was subsequently greatly lessened by very careless administration, it now amounts to something over the original sum and is administered by the Regents in the form of a retiring allowance, the holder being nominated by the Alumni Association.

The Rev. Joseph Whiting, Yale, ’23, under whose charge was the classical training of the six youngsters of that first class, was a man of different type. A fine scholar, he made Greek and Latin “glow with life and beauty,” and by his distinguished bearing formed a happy complement to the “jovial and rotund” Williams. His death while he was serving his term as the annual President just before the first class was graduated, was recognized as a great loss by the students, as well as by the Regents, who acknowledged “his urbanity and gentleness of manners,” and “his knowledge of character and other properties which especially fitted him to act the part of a governor and counselor of youth.”

Professor Douglass Houghton died during the same year, 1845. The services of these two men, as well as those of Charles Fox, Professor of Agriculture, and Dr. Samuel Denton of the first Medical Faculty, are commemorated by the little weather-beaten monument with the broken shaft, which has doubtless aroused the idle curiosity of thousands of students, who have never taken the trouble, however, to decipher the Latin inscriptions which set forth the life records of these early professors.

In 1842 Dr. Abram Sager, a graduate of Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute (1831), who later became the first Dean of the Medical Faculty, came to the University as Professor of Zooelogy and Botany. He was then about thirty-two years of age and had for some time been connected with the State Geological Survey as botanist and zooelogist. His contributions to the University while in that position formed the foundation of the present zooelogical collection. One of his students speaks of him as “of exceedingly sensitive mind and heart and of very high and pure morality.” A Professor of Intellectual and Moral Philosophy, the Rev. Edward Thomson, Pennsylvania, ’29, was appointed in 1843, but served only one year. He was succeeded by the Rev. Andrew Ten Brook, Madison University, ’39, who took a vigorous part in the University’s life until his resignation in 1851, not to return until 1864 as Librarian and historian of the University’s early days. Professor Ten Brook was of the Baptist persuasion, exceedingly well read, particularly in the literature of his chair. Ordinarily in his classes he was master of the situation, “so long as he had Dugald Stewart’s Metaphysics before him,” but when discussion became free in his classes and “scholastics were let loose” one of his thought students they “got a little the better of him.” That he was a shrewd and honest observer with remarkably little personal prejudice even in memories of trying times, is shown by his book on “American State Universities” which offers much that is fascinating to those interested in the first days of the University.

In the same year Silas H. Douglas, M.D., who studied at the University of Vermont, was appointed assistant to Dr. Douglass Houghton, Professor of Chemistry, Mineralogy, and Zooelogy, who never took up the active duties of his chair. Dr. Douglas speedily became one of the “strong men” of the Faculty and created the Chemical Laboratory which lent so much prestige to Michigan in its early years. He was of a systematic and orderly temperament whose experiments before the class always came out brilliantly. His careful business-like methods were greatly appreciated by the Regents and he was entrusted with the oversight of the construction of the South College when it was erected in 1849. So successful was he that he saved some $4,000 over the cost of the first building and had enough bricks left besides to build a large part of the Medical Building which was completed in the same year. Those who knew him best supported him loyally in the great dispute which arose over his administration of the affairs of the Chemical Laboratory and their confidence in his uprightness and sterling integrity was justified by the final decision in that most unfortunate case.

These were the men who taught the first class that was graduated from the University in 1845. The same year saw two additions to the Faculty, the Rev. Daniel D. Whedon, Hamilton, ’28, who was elected to the chair of Logic, Rhetoric, and History, and Dr. John H. Agnew, Dickinson College, ’23, who assumed the Professorship in the classics left vacant by the death of Dr. Whiting. Both had a prominent share in University affairs for a few years. Professor Whedon was a Methodist clergyman, lank and angular in form and feature with a “considerable sprinkling of vinegar at times in his ways of expressing himself,” but, according to our oldest living graduate, “his commanding presence, imperative logic and sesquipedalia verba, always used with mathematical precision, hammered truth into us and clinched it.” Professor Agnew has been described as a Greek from head to foot, the exact opposite of Dr. Whedon, extremely careful in his dress and appearance and correspondingly neat and precise in the expression of his thoughts. He represented the Presbyterian and Congregational element in the University. The reasons for the resignation of these two Professors in 1852 have already been suggested in the lack of unity and the sectarian rivalries of their time.

Perhaps the most picturesque figure of this early group was Louis Fasquelle, the first Professor of Modern Languages, whose widely used text-books contributed not a little to the prestige of the University. When he came in 1846, his chair was almost a new field in an American college. Only a single term in French was given at first and in fact neither he nor Dr. Sager, charged with the scientific course, were required to give their whole time to their university work for some years. It is somewhat suggestive too, that both Spanish and Italian were offered in the University before a course in German was announced in 1849. Professor Fasquelle was educated at the famous Ecole Polytechnique in Paris, but was obliged to leave France on account of his participation in the revolutionary movement of that period. As Professor in the University he proved “peculiar, but very learned and efficient.” The stories of his difficulty with the English language are many, and most of the classic stories told of various members of the French Faculty by successive student generations were originally told of him. He was the first “infiddle,” though he was always punctilious in attendance at chapel, which he adjourned on one occasion because the “praying Professor” did not appear. His “vocabul’-ary” was good, but in the words of the time-honored song, “He went up on his emphas’-is.”

The new regime of Dr. Tappan witnessed the establishment of a different tradition. The former deference to denominational precedent was definitely abandoned and increasing stress was laid upon scholarly as well as personal qualifications. The new President took the chair of philosophy left vacant by the resignation of Professor Ten Brook, while the old chair of ancient languages was speedily divided. James R. Boise, Brown, ’40, who already enjoyed a growing reputation as a scholar, became Professor of Greek, while the Rev. Erastus O. Haven, Wesleyan, ’42, afterward the second President, became Professor of Latin. Professor Boise though of a delicate physique possessed great force and impressed the students with the absolute necessity of getting their Greek lessons, ruat coelum. His insistence on discipline and high standards in recitations had a profound influence on the mental habits of those in his classes. Professor D’Ooge, ’62, his successor, remarks of him that “probably no teacher of those days got so much downright hard work out of his pupils.” Alvah Bradish was also appointed to the chair of Fine Arts at this time, but without compensation, and, though he apparently lectured occasionally, the course soon disappeared from the catalogues, not to be revived for fifty years. The name of the Rev. Charles Fox also appears momentarily as a Professor of Agriculture, a department also destined to quick extinction with his death in less than a year, in spite of the President’s best efforts, for the Legislature had already taken the preliminary steps toward the establishment of a College of Agriculture at Lansing.

The strength of President Tappan’s policy is shown in the group of men he appointed to Professorships leaders as well as scholars. Among the first was Alexander Winchell, Wesleyan, ’47, whose versatility was shown by the range of his teaching as well as by his long list of published works. He came to Michigan in 1853 as Professor of Physics and Civil Engineering, but within two years was transferred to the chair of Geology, Zooelogy, and Botany, which he held until his resignation in 1873 to accept the Chancellorship of Syracuse University. He returned to Michigan in 1879 as Professor of Geology and Paleontology, and ended his days in Ann Arbor in 1891. With a personality vigorous and powerful, if somewhat unyielding, he was always a factor in faculty affairs, though he was not so happy in his relations with the students as some of his colleagues and therefore does not figure so prominently in their reminiscences. He has been described as a sober, earnest, eloquent, sometimes shrewd and witty but very absent-minded, scholar whose “beautiful and even eloquent language led many to an admiration and love for sciences.” His work on the Michigan Geological Survey of which he was twice director, and his life-long effort for the reconciliation of science with religion, brought wide recognition to the University.

A totally different personality was Dr. Henry Simmons Frieze, Brown, ’41, who came to Michigan the next year as Professor of Latin Language and Literature, in place of Dr. Haven, who assumed the Professorship of History and English Literature. No name on Michigan’s long Faculty roll has been more honored than his. He brought to the University not only well-grounded ideals of true scholarship, but also a broad culture, not too common in those days, and an inspiring interest in literature and art which left a deep impression. It was such spirits as Dr. Tappan, Dr. Frieze, and Andrew D. White, who was also of that early company, that set for the University standards in academic life and ideals which have never been lost, and which enabled Michigan to take her place with such extraordinarily little delay as one of the country’s great educational forces. Unhampered by the formalism and traditions of the Eastern universities of that time, these men found here an opportunity for the establishment of the progressive methods of the better European universities. The services of Dr. Frieze as Acting President for the two years preceding President Angell’s election are mentioned elsewhere. He was once more called upon to be Acting President during the year Dr. Angell was in China in 1881 and again for a few months in 1887. But these were only interludes, for his influence during his long Professorship, where he easily stood primus inter pares, must be the gauge of the high favor in which he was held by students and Faculty alike. Among the many facets of his genius was a remarkable ability as a musician, and the impetus he gave the musical life of Ann Arbor resulted in the organization of the Musical Society and the naming of the Frieze Memorial Organ in his honor. Andrew D. White tells us, in his “Autobiography,” that he found him one of the most charming men he had ever met, simple, modest, retiring to a fault, yet a delightful companion and a most inspiring teacher. “So passionately was he devoted to music that at times he sent his piano away from his house in order to shun temptation to abridge his professorial work, and especially was this the case when he was preparing his edition of Virgil. A more lovely spirit never abode in mortal frame. No man was ever more generally beloved in a community; none, more lamented at his death.” Hardly less important was the inspiration and support Dr. Frieze gave to the study of art through his contributions to the University’s art museum. This dates particularly from a gift he made of books, engravings, photographs, and copies of statues and paintings, purchased abroad in 1856 with the unexpended balance of his salary, amounting to $800. This was the real beginning of the University’s art collection.

The same day in June, 1854, that witnessed the appointment of Dr. Frieze, saw the election of Dr. Franz F.E. Bruennow, a graduate of the University of Berlin, as Professor of Astronomy and Director of the new Observatory. He too was destined to have a profound influence upon the future of the University though his years in Ann Arbor were comparatively few. Dr. Bruennow had already gained a European reputation as a scientist before he decided to come to America, which he did largely upon Humboldt’s advice, and because of his desire to use the astronomical clock and meridian circle which were made in Berlin under his direction for the new observatory in Ann Arbor. The long list of distinguished astronomers who have been students at Michigan may be said to trace their academic lineage back to his acceptance of this position. His successor, James C. Watson, was his pupil and Professor C.K. Adams in his memorial address on Professor Watson said: “During the senior year the Professor of Astronomy lectured to Watson alone. And I remember years afterwards hearing Professor White say to one of his historical classes that the best audience any professor ever had in this University was the audience of Dr. Bruennow when he was lecturing to this single pupil.” Dr. White dwells with particular appreciation on the little musical circle formed by Dr. Frieze, Mrs. White, and Dr. Bruennow, which may well have been the original impulse for the future development of musical interests in the University and the community. Dr. Bruennow’s quiet simplicity, which led those “who knew him best to love him, most,” sometimes led to humorous situations, as on the occasion when President Tappan requested Dr. Bruennow to find some one to take his place at morning prayer the next day. This commission was performed with Teutonic literalness, for each of the professors interviewed was greeted abruptly with the somewhat startling question, “Professor, can you bray?” He returned to Europe at the same time Dr. Tappan left the University, but his influence remained in the work of his students and the scholarly traditions he established.

Andrew D. White, Yale, ’53, came as Professor of History and English Literature in 1857. His influence was only less vital than that of Dr. Tappan and Dr. Frieze because his active service with the University was to last but six years. He was a very young professor, indeed only twenty-four but he had had the best of training in France and Germany and was inspired by a vision of a chair of history alone, unencumbered by any allied, or supposedly allied, subjects; something apparently unknown elsewhere, certainly at Yale, his Alma Mater.

He tells with relish in his “Autobiography” of the attentions paid him by the students. As soon as they caught sight of him at the station they asked him if he were going to enter the University. Of course he was. They immediately proceeded to “rush” him, not discovering that he was the new Professor of History until he signed the hotel register. His students were often older than he was and his experiences were many, particularly when he had it out with one student whom he had sized up as a ring-leader in class disturbances. This man was always elaborately innocent when trouble was brewing, but the young professor was sure he was right in his suspicions as to the seat of the trouble. Finally he delivered an ultimatum: “I see either you or I must leave the University.” The student pleaded not guilty but Professor White insisted, suggesting that the Regents might feel the same as he in the matter. After some diplomatic passages, in which the student seemed not unimpressed by the importance given him, he acknowledged that perhaps he had been a little foolish and suggested that they try to live together a little longer. He afterwards became a strong friend of the young teacher and later fell at the head of his brigade at Gettysburg.

The success with which Professor White and his contemporaries labored among their students is shown by his later statement that from among them came senators, congressmen, judges, professors, lawyers, heads of great business enterprises, and diplomats. One became his successor in the Professorship of History and later in the Presidency of Cornell, and a well-known American historian of his time. Another became his predecessor in the Embassy to Germany. Professor White left Ann Arbor in 1863, partly because of business interests, partly because of his election to the New York State Senate and the Presidency of Cornell University.

With these men as leaders Michigan boldly embarked on a series of departures from educational precedents. Though the time was not ripe for graduate study, its desirability had been recognized emphatically in the annual catalogues. In their class rooms several of the Faculty endeavored to do more than follow the accepted textbooks, through lectures, assigned readings, and exercises designed to develop the individual powers of each student. Professor White was particularly fertile in these expedients. The claims of comparatively new subjects, foreign to the traditional curriculum, were recognized in chairs of history, English literature, the modern languages, and above all the sciences, where true laboratory work was gradually introduced until Michigan had under Professor Douglas what was probably in its early years the largest chemical laboratory in any American university. The new scientific course, which was established within the Literary Department and not as a separate school, was particularly significant of the progressive spirit of this early Faculty. This came to be so well recognized that Dr. Angell remarked in his inaugural address that the drift of intelligent opinion had been for twenty years towards some of the positions early adopted by the University, such as elective studies and larger opportunities for the study of history, modern languages, and the natural sciences. He also took occasion to suggest that the University would always have to be in a measure dependent upon the alumni, since the Legislature would never become so generous in its appropriations as to make private gifts undesirable or unnecessary.

While the liberal policy which laid the foundation for this expansion of the University’s field may properly be said to have been formed during President Tappan’s administration, it was continued and wisely expanded under his successors. President Haven’s first years were difficult, but he had the support of his colleagues and was fortunate in the appointment of the new members of the Faculty necessitated by the reorganization which ushered in his administration. One of the first of his appointments was that of Dr. Bruennow’s favorite pupil, James C. Watson, ’57, to succeed him as Professor of Astronomy and Director of the Observatory. Professor Watson’s brilliant work had already attracted wide attention, he “was bagging asteroids as though he lured them with a decoy” though he was at that time still a very young man, and his methods as a teacher somewhat peculiar. He paid scant attention to those not vitally interested in his subject, and, as one chronicler observed, showed the folly of a set course of studies and contributed in this way not a little to the eventual adoption of the elective system in the University. His lectures were sometimes brilliant and always lucid, though he was not exacting in recitations or in examinations. The story is told of his passing one student in an examination who had died earlier in the year; he had merely taken the name from the roll prepared the first day of the semester. Whatever were Professor Watson’s personal qualifications, however, the long list of eminent astronomers who were his pupils during the years from 1863 to 1879 are ample evidence of his genius, for they include such names as those of his successor Professor Harrington, ’68, Otto J. Klotz, ’72e, of the Observatory of the Dominion of Canada, Monroe B. Snyder, ’72, Director of the Philadelphia Observatory, Robert Simpson Woodward, ’72e, President of the Carnegie Institution, John M. Schaeberle, ’76e, Astronomer in the Lick Observatory from 1888 to 1897, and George Cary Comstock, ’77, Director of the Observatory of the University of Wisconsin.

Edward Olney, whose spirit still lives in the memory of older graduates, also came at this time. He was, unlike most other members of the Faculty, for the most part a self-made scholar of whose ability as a teacher one former student rather ruefully remarked that the “students knew something about mathematics when they got through with him.” He was always a prominent figure in the shaping of University policies and to him no small measure of credit is given for the diploma system of admission from the high schools in ’71 and the elective system of ’78.

The year 1867 brought the appointment to professorships of two men, already mentioned, whose reputation eventually became nationwide. The first was Charles Kendall Adams, who afterward became President of Cornell University and the University of Wisconsin. He was graduated from the University with the class of ’61, and after some years as instructor and Assistant Professor followed Andrew D. White in the chair of history. The other was Moses Coit Tyler, Yale, ’57, Professor of Rhetoric and English Literature, whose “History of American Literature,” published before he left Michigan in 1881, to go to Cornell, as well as many later works, gave him an established place as an authority in this field.

Professor Boise resigned the chair of Greek in 1868 to accept a similar place at the University of Chicago. It is said that his reason for the change was, in part at least, his desire to give his daughter, Alice Boise, an opportunity to matriculate in an institution where women were enrolled. While living in Ann Arbor she had already attended unofficially at least two classes, and was probably the first woman to recite in the University. Professor Boise was succeeded by Professor Martin L. D’Ooge, ’62, whose fine enthusiasm for the best in classical culture and his genius for friendship were long with the University. For several years before his death in 1915, Professor D’Ooge was, with Dr. Angell, one of the few links which tied the present Faculty to the era of those earlier leaders.

But the names of all the hundreds of members of the Faculties, who came in ever-increasing numbers after this period, cannot all be mentioned, though many have played important roles in the growth and development of the University. No record of the Faculty, however, can be left without mention of the Rev. Benjamin F. Cocker, M.A., Wesleyan, ’64, who succeeded Dr. Haven in the chair of Mental and Moral Philosophy in 1869, a strong and vital figure, of English birth but a citizen of the world, who at one time nearly lost his life at the hands of cannibals in the South Seas. He and his family arrived in America penniless, but his ability as a thinker and preacher soon made him a place and eventually a professorship in the University, where he was long remembered. He was succeeded by Professor George S. Morris, Dartmouth, ’61, who had come to the University in 1870 as Professor of Modern Languages, a man of totally different caliber, not so rugged and picturesque but more sensitive and profound, the first real scholar in the modern sense in the Department of Philosophy. Upon his death in 1889 he was succeeded by the eminent philosopher John Dewey, Vermont, ’79, who was followed in turn in 1896 by Robert Mark Wenley, who came to Michigan bearing the highest honors of the University of Glasgow. Within the Department of Philosophy has also developed the special chair of Psychology, held by Professor Walter B. Pillsbury, Nebraska, ’92, who came to the University in 1897 as instructor in the subject. Of these men it may be said that they have all contributed their share to the singularly high place the study of philosophy and metaphysics has continued to hold, even in this utilitarian age, among the students of the University.

Elisha Jones, ’59, who became Assistant Professor of Latin in 1875 and Associate Professor in 1881, was also a teacher to whose memory long generations of students pay tribute, not only for their introduction to Latin through his textbooks, but for his fine simplicity and enthusiasm for his work. At his death in 1888 his widow established a fellowship which for many years aided many embryo classical scholars. Professor Frieze, the head of the department, outlived him and was succeeded by Francis W. Kelsey, Rochester, ’80, whose labors in behalf of the classics, and as president of the American School of Classical Studies at Rome, and the Archeological Institute of America, have been widely recognized. Associated for long years with Professor D’Ooge in the Department of Greek was Albert H. Pattengill, ’68, who died in 1906. He was another extraordinary teacher, whose strong personality will long be remembered, while his love of outdoor sports will be honored by generations of athletes whose interests he served unselfishly throughout his lifetime.

The resignation of Charles Kendall Adams brought another loved personality to the University, Richard Hudson, ’71, whose gentle peculiarities only endeared him to his students. He succeeded Professor D’Ooge as Dean of the Literary College in 1898. He was a most conscientious teacher who believed in the meticulous presentation of facts in his lectures, though one student at least found that after a long series of lectures about the “low countries,” “Flanders,” and the “Spanish cities,” something else was needed, when confronted by an examination on the history of Belgium. His method of teaching was his own but effective, though many alumni will appreciate his remark to a young instructor, as he poised his right forefinger in midair and cleared his throat, “I wonder if you have any mannerisms that would make you conspicuous before a class?” Professor Hudson not only gave his library to the University but also left a legacy of $75,000 for the establishment of a Professorship in History. Another popular figure of a generation not too long ago was Andrew C. McLaughlin, ’82, the son-in-law of Dr. Angell, now Professor of History at the University of Chicago. Upon the retirement of Professor Hudson in 1911, Claude H. Van Tyne, ’96, Professor of American History since 1906, became head of the Department.

In the Department of English and Rhetoric Professor Tyler was succeeded in 1881 by Isaac N. Demmon, ’68, who had been Assistant Professor of Rhetoric and History since 1876. Professor Demmon’s service in the University, which did not end until his retirement as Emeritus Professor, and his death, in 1920, was long and self-sacrificing. He left a monument to his interest in the Library in several special collections, particularly in the Dramatic and Shakespearian libraries, while his knowledge of the University’s history and his remarkable acquaintance among the alumni have been invaluable in the editing of various editions of the Alumni Catalogue, and the revision and extension of Professor Hinsdale’s “History.” In 1903 Fred N. Scott, ’84, became head of the newly created Department of Rhetoric. As occupant of this chair Professor Scott, in addition to his scholarly work, evinced by many books and articles, has been an inspiration, guide, and father confessor to hundreds of students and alumni whose interest lay in literature and authorship.

In modern languages, the task dropped by Professor Fasquelle at his death in 1862 was continued by Edward Payson Evans, ’54, until 1870 and then by George S. Morris until his acceptance of the Professorship of Philosophy in 1879. Edwin Lorraine Walter, ’68, was then elected to the chair. In 1887 the Department was divided and Calvin Thomas, ’74, became Professor of Germanic Languages and Literature, to be succeeded, after his call to Columbia University in 1896, by George A. Hench, Lafayette, ’85, who lost his life three years later in an accident in the White Mountains. Max Winkler, Harvard, ’89, the present occupant of the chair, eventually succeeded him. After Professor Walter lost his life on the Bourgogne in 1898, the chair of French was filled by Arthur G. Canfield, Williams, ’78.

When the new chair in the Science and Art of Teaching was first established in 1879, William H. Payne was appointed as the first Professor. He was an experienced teacher in the secondary schools of the State and contributed much to the eventual success of the new department. After he resigned in 1887 to become Chancellor of the University of Nashville, Burke Aaron Hinsdale, a graduate and for some time President of Hiram College, Ohio, and an intimate associate of President Garfield, was elected to succeed him. Under Professor Hinsdale’s strong and vigorous guidance, the department rapidly advanced to a recognized place in the curriculum. Though his bearing was somewhat austere and overwhelming, he could unbend, as was proved on one occasion in the Library when his booming voice brought an admonition from an official. Just then an influential member of the Library Committee chanced to appear. He proved a greater disturber of the peace than Professor Hinsdale, who, nudging his companion, slyly inquired, with the suspicion of a grin, “Why don’t you tell him to keep quiet?” Professor Hinsdale was distinguished by his prolific and scholarly writings and left a monument in his “History of the University,” which will long be recognized as the standard for the period up to 1900. His death occurred in that year, and the chair thus left vacant was occupied by Allen S. Whitney, ’85, whose title was changed in 1905 to Professor of Education.

After the resignation of Professor Watson in 1879, the chair of Astronomy was occupied by Mark Walrod Harrington, ’68, until 1892; later he became President of the University of Washington. He was succeeded by William J. Hussey, ’89. Since the death of Professor Olney in 1887, the Department of Mathematics has been under the charge of Wooster W. Beman, ’70, a member of the Faculty since 1871, whose name now stands first as to length of service on the academic roster.

Albert Benjamin Prescott, ’64m, who eventually succeeded Dr. Silas H. Douglas as Director of the Chemical Laboratory, became Assistant Professor of Chemistry in 1865. He organized the course in Pharmacy three years later, becoming Professor of Organic and Applied Chemistry and of Pharmacy in 1870. In 1876 he became Dean of the new College of Pharmacy and in 1884 Director of the Chemical Laboratory. Upon his death in 1905 he was succeeded as Director of the Chemical Laboratory by Edward DeMille Campbell, ’86, who had been Professor of Chemical Engineering and Analytical Chemistry since 1902. After the retirement of Professor Williams in 1877, Charles K. Wead, Vermont, ’71, became Acting Professor of Physics, to be succeeded in 1885 by Henry Smith Carhart, Wesleyan, ’69, who held the chair of Physics and the Directorship of the Physical Laboratory until his retirement in 1905. His successor was John Oren Reed, ’85, who became also Dean of the Literary Department in 1907. Upon Dean Reed’s death in 1916 the Professorship of Physics passed to Harrison McAllister Randall, ’93, who became Director of the Physical Laboratory in 1918.

At the end of Professor Winchell’s first period in the University in ’73, the several subjects which comprised his professorship were divided. The chair of Botany passed to Eugene Woldemar Hilgard, Ph.D., Heidelberg, ’53, who was succeeded two years later by Volney Morgan Spalding, ’73, as Instructor in Botany and Zooelogy, becoming Professor of Botany in 1886. Upon his resignation in 1904 the chair was occupied by Frederick Charles Newcombe, ’90. The work in Zooelogy passed to Joseph Beal Steere, ’68, who became an Assistant Professor in 1876, after five years of travel in the interests of the University in South America, China, and the East Indies, where he collected some 20,000 specimens for the Museum. He became Professor of Zooelogy in 1879, and retained the chair until 1894, when he was succeeded by Jacob E. Reighard, ’82. William Henry Pettee, Harvard, ’61, assumed the work in mineralogy in 1875 under the title of Professor of Mining Engineering. In addition to his work in his own subject, he served from 1881 to 1904 as editor of the University Calendar and advisory editor of other University publications. Edward Henry Kraus, Syracuse, ’96, who occupies the chair of Mineralogy at present, first came to the University in 1904 and succeeded to the chair in 1908. When Professor Winchell returned to the University after his term as Chancellor of the University of Syracuse, he became Professor of Geology and held that position until his death in 1891, when he was succeeded by Israel Cook Russell, New York University, ’69. Upon Professor Russell’s death in 1906, William Herbert Hobbs, Worcester Polytechnic, ’83, was called to the chair from the University of Wisconsin.

Though courses in economics were given in the University almost from the first and; in fact, with International Law, formed the special field of work assumed by Dr. Angell for some years, the Department of Political Economy as such was not organized until after Henry C. Adams, Iowa College, ’74, who came to the University as a lecturer in 1881, accepted the chair of Political Economy in 1887. The first step toward a chair in Sociology came with the appointment in 1899 of Charles Horton Cooley, ’87, a son of Judge Thomas M. Cooley, of the first Law Faculty, as Assistant Professor of Sociology, from which position he rose to a full professorship in eight years. A separate chair of Political Science was not created until 1910, when Jesse Siddall Reeves, Amherst, ’91, came as the head of the new department. The Department of Music had its first beginning with the appointment of Calvin Brainerd Cady, Oberlin, ’74, as instructor in 1880. He became Acting Professor of Music in 1885, but resigned three years later when Albert A. Stanley, Leipzig, ’75, came as the head of the Department and a few years later Director of the University School of Music, now closely associated with the work of the University though not in any way a part of it. After the disappearance from the Faculty roll of the name of the Detroit portrait painter, Alvah Bradish, who apparently gave a few lectures on Fine Arts during the period from 1852 to 1863, no work in fine arts was given until the appointment of Professor Herbert R. Cross, Brown, ’00, in 1911. The work in elocution and oratory was definitely established with the appointment in 1889 of Thomas C. Trueblood, M.A., Earlham, ’85, who had for some years held a lectureship in the University, as Assistant Professor of Elocution and in 1892 as full Professor of Oratory.

The chair of Semitics and Oriental Languages, held since 1914 by Leroy Waterman, Hillsdale, ’98, was first established in 1893 when James A. Craig, McGill, ’80, came as Professor of Oriental Languages, a title which was changed to Semitic Languages and Literatures and Hellenistic Greek the following year.

Following the example of Yale and Cornell, Michigan established a Department of Forestry in 1903, and called Filibert Roth, ’90, to fill the chair thus created. For some time courses in forestry had been given in connection with the work in botany, but the growing interest in the preservation and conservation of America’s timber resources made more intensive and systematic training seem desirable. A few years later, in 1909, a course in landscape design was established, which shortly became a department under the charge of Professor Aubrey Tealdi, a graduate of the Royal Technical Institute of Livorno, Italy.

The history of the development of special courses and degrees in the University, though interesting and suggestive, can only be given here in a brief outline. As Dr. Angell remarked in one of his reports, the governing board has been distinguished for the boldness and originality of its policy, making frequent changes in traditional college usages, some of which were freely criticized at the time by those who afterwards approved and even adopted them. We have seen how the University departed from the dead level of contemporary college practice in establishing Scientific Courses, and the admitting of those who were not seeking a degree as special students. A few years later, in 1855, came the first indication of one of the principal differences between the old University and that of the present time the system of elective studies. The concession was a very small one, it must be acknowledged, one-third of the work in the senior year; but it was a break in the dike. This was all that was allowed for fifteen years, or until 1871, when all the studies of the senior year except philosophy became elective.

The establishment of an English course in 1877-78, leading to the degree of Bachelor of Letters, which consisted largely in the study of modern languages and history, and aimed to co-ordinate with similar high school courses, formed another break, which was emphasized by a modification and revision of the other courses and a change from the Latin and Scientific to the Latin course. Almost half the work required for a degree now became elective. This action was far-reaching in its effect; not only was there an immediate increase of almost twenty percent in the number of students, but due to it, curiously enough, can be traced the subsequent rise of a true graduate school. The principle of general election of studies was gradually extended until the required work was decreased to certain introductory courses in Latin, Greek, modern languages, rhetoric, history, mathematics, and sciences, according to the special fields chosen by the student. The special degrees of B.S., Ph.B., and B.L. were abolished in 1900 and all graduates of the Literary Department were granted a degree of A.B. after that time, though the B.S. was later restored. Of late there has been a reaction toward more formal programs of study, with an increased emphasis on certain introductory work which must be observed in planning the course necessary for a degree. But the great latitude left to the student in the choice of his work still remains.

The growth of the Graduate School should also be noted, for upon this the standing of the University as a center of learning must eventually rest. In spite of Dr. Tappan’s efforts to introduce “university” courses, Michigan was long a college rather than a university, so much so that President Haven discouraged the use of the word “undergraduate” when “graduate” students were almost non-existent; while the opportunities offered them, except possibly in astronomy and chemistry, where the facilities were unusual for that period, were only those of a high grade college curriculum. But the leaven was working, in two particulars especially; the seminar method of teaching and the development of the elective system. The first seminar was held by Professor Charles Kendall Adams in 1871 in some of his courses in history. He was followed a little later by Professor Moses Coit Tyler in English Literature, and in time by most of the other departments. This, with the corresponding laboratory methods in the teaching of the sciences, had a profound influence on the growth of scholarly ideals in the University. Michigan was in all probability the first American institution to naturalize these products of Continental universities. The broadening of the course in 1877-78, with its great increase in electives, enabled the members of the Faculty to increase the scope of their work and to expand their courses. As an immediate answer there came an ever increasing demand for true graduate work, not only from graduates of the University, but from those of other institutions as well. This movement grew so rapidly that the number of advanced students enrolled increased from four in 1870 to 56 in 1892, when a Graduate School was formally organized in connection with the Literary Department. This was expanded some twenty-five years later into an entirely separate Department, or School, following the revised nomenclature of 1910, of which Professor Karl Eugen Guthe, Marburg, Ph.D., ’89, of the Department of Physics, became the first Dean. Upon his death in the summer of 1915 he was succeeded by Professor Alfred H. Lloyd, Harvard, ’86, of the Department of Philosophy.

Thus graduate work in the University came into its own. At last the ideals of President Tappan, who admitted the first graduate student in 1856, were in some measure at least realized; though the real results of his labors did not show for many years after he left.

Throughout all the early period the general attitude towards advanced work was decidedly haphazard and casual; the degree of Doctor of Philosophy was not given until 1876, when Dr. Victor C. Vaughan, the present Dean of the Medical School, was one of the first recipients; while the Ph.D. as well as the M.D. were sometimes given as honorary degrees. This attitude toward graduate study, however, was by no means confined to Michigan, for the systematic regulation of advanced courses has been comparatively a recent development in all American universities.

The first organization of the School under a Graduate Council within the Literary Department, was therefore a great step in advance, however anomalous its position, a graduate school practically controlled by an undergraduate faculty, though there were, it is true, certain representatives of the professional departments on the Council. Nevertheless the work grew rapidly after this time. Not only was there a steadily increasing enrolment, but there was a distinct increase in the number of advanced courses, as well as in the time given by teachers to graduate instruction and to research work, which greatly strengthened the prestige of the University as a center of higher education.

The final establishment of the School as a separate division of the University naturally gave a decided impetus to this development. A suite of offices was set apart for the administrative force; special encouragement was given to the publication of the results of their work by members of the Faculty, particularly through such agencies as the University Humanistic Series, and similar series in other fields, while fifteen University fellowships were also established, as well as the State College Fellowships mentioned above. In addition a number of fellowships have been privately established by individuals and corporations, ranging from the classics to paper-making. During the last few years there have been in all between thirty-five and forty-five fellowships ordinarily available. The enrolment in the School reached 570 in 1916. There was naturally a falling off during the war, though by the year 1919-20 the enrolment had once more reached 509. Of this number 227 were registered in the summer session, 173 were women and 195 were graduates of other institutions than Michigan.

The history of the University Library has been closely associated, as is only natural, with the growth of the Literary College, and it is proper to include a word about the Library in this place. The appointment of the first Librarian in 1837 did not make a library, and for many years the fine but small collection of books gathered in Europe by Professor Gray was housed in different places about the Campus and was used only as a circulating library open for one hour each week for the use of the professors and students. However a note in the library regulations to the effect that: “The present instructors are of opinion that there are very few of the books in the library which would be useful to students,” seems to limit even this function of the little collection. All this was changed in 1856 when the whole North Wing was set apart as a Museum and Library. Here for the first time, the books were properly shelved and arrangements made for their daily use in an adequate reading-room under the charge of Dr. Tappan’s son, John L. Tappan, who took charge as the first real Librarian. He arranged the books scientifically and began the first card catalogue.

Almost at once the Library sprang into a new place in University life. Not only did President Tappan make the Library one of his first interests, but the Regents came to realize the desirability of regular support. This inaugurated a period of ever-increasing growth, which has placed the Library well to the front among American college libraries. Progress at first was rather slow, only about 800 volumes were added each year up to 1877, when the Librarian reported that there were almost 24,000 volumes in the collection. Not very large even then; but the rate increased from that time, rapidly, and at the present time the Library numbers some 430,000 volumes including the departmental collections.

In 1877 the Legislature was brought to see the imperative need of an adequate library and made a special appropriation of $5,000, which was renewed every two years, and even gradually increased, until in 1891 the amount appropriated was $15,000, with a grand total over a period of fifteen years of $79,000. These biennial appropriations ended in 1893 with the increase of the mill-tax from one-twentieth to one-sixth of a mill. This enabled the Regents to double the income of the Library, making it $15,000 annually. The income increased gradually until the library budget of 1920 was over $150,000, of which $50,000 represents the approximate cost of books; the balance being spent for the salaries of the large staff which is necessitated by a library of this size.

Upon the completion of the first Law Building in 1863 the Library was given new and better quarters where it remained until the old Library was completed in 1883. This was at the time considered the last word in a college library and was dedicated with special exercises at which an address was given by Dr. Justin Winsor, Librarian of Harvard University. For thirty-five years this building, situated at the center of the Campus, with its picturesque twin towers rising above the ivy-covered apse, served the University well. Here was not only the center of academic life, but from one of the towers the Campus clock chimed the hours and quarters for the convenience of the students. In the end, however, the old building proved inadequate and unsafe for the valuable collections it housed, in spite of an increase in stack capacity in 1899. The building was therefore finally removed to make way for the new Library, completed in 1919, which, through its perfect adaptation to the purposes for which it is designed, is considered the most conveniently appointed and successful college library in the country. The building will accommodate over one million volumes and there are definite plans for future extension which will house over three-quarters of a million in addition. The stack wing of the old Library was incorporated in the building, permitting the gradual erection of the new structure in such a manner that the use of the books was not interfered with at any time. The new Library was formally opened on January 7, 1920, with an address by Mr. R.R. Bowker, the editor of The Library Journal, as the principal feature of the programme. The building cost, completed and furnished, $615,000, of which amount the sum of $550,000 was especially appropriated by the State Legislature.

After the resignation of the first Librarian, the Rev. Henry Colclazer, in 1845, the charge of the Library was passed around from one member of the Faculty to another until the appointment of John L. Tappan in 1856, nominally the eighth, though in reality the first Librarian. He was followed by Datus Chase Brooks, who held the position one year, when the Rev. Andrew Ten Brook, who had once before held the title during the year 1850-51, returned to the University as Librarian in 1864. Not only were the affairs of the Library well cared for during his administration, but he also found time to write his “History of State Universities,” which gives the only adequate picture we have of the beginnings of the University, by one who shared their trials and triumphs. Upon his resignation in 1877 Raymond Cazallis Davis, ’55-’57, A.M. (hon.) ’81, succeeded him, contributing greatly during the twenty-eight years of his administration towards the establishment of the Library on its present effective basis. In this effort he was supported by the advice and co-operation of Professor Isaac N. Demmon, who was for thirty-seven years a member of the Library Committee. Theodore Wesley Koch, Harvard, ’93, became Librarian in 1905, coming from the Library of Congress in Washington. It was his main effort to popularize the use of the Library among the students and Faculties, through making the reading-rooms more attractive and the books more accessible. The Library of Congress was again called upon for his successor after he resigned in 1915, when the present Librarian, William Warner Bishop, ’92, came in time to give his experience and administrative ability to the planning and construction of the new Library Building. To him in no small measure is due its acknowledged success as a working library which has won the praise of all practical librarians throughout the country.