"As an instructor, Professor Haddock was one of the best I ever knew. I never knew a better. It is with unfeigned gratitude that I remember my obligations to him, and I know I speak for thousands. As a critic, he was discriminating and quietly suggestive, guided by a taste that was nearly immaculate. His scholarship was unobtrusive, and his manner without ostentation. He made no pretense of knowledge, but it was always sufficient, always fresh, always sound. The range of his thought was broad. His mind was versatile and active. You could hardly find a subject with which he was not somewhat familiar, or in which he would not readily become interested. His opinions were never fantastic, nor exaggerated, nor disproportioned. He was not, perhaps, so exacting nor so stimulating a teacher as some, but he was careful, clear, distinct, and encouraging. He saw the difficulty in the mind of the pupil, if there was one, adapted himself with admirable facility to his wants, and by a lucid statement, a test question, or a distinct suggestion, would often free a subject from its obscurity, so that the way would all be in clear sunlight. He felt that, in education, the best results are not produced violently, but by influences quiet and protracted, gradually, but potently, moulding the affections and the life, 'finely touching the spirit to fine issues.'"
"In 1846, Professor Haddock published a volume of 'Addresses and Miscellaneous Writings,' gathered from reviews, and from his speeches before the New Hampshire Legislature, and on various public occasions. These are marked by the peculiar completeness and finish which characterized all his productions. There is in them no superfluous word, no affectation, no straining after effect, but much that is wise and everything that is tasteful. Yet, interesting as they are, I hardly feel as if they give an adequate expression of his rich and varied abilities. His more recent writings,—notes of foreign travels, lectures, and discourses,—he had begun to prepare for the press, when he was so suddenly taken from us, and I am glad to hope that some of them may yet see the light.
"For many years Professor Haddock acted as secretary of the New Hampshire Education Society. In discharge of the duties of this office, sometimes little more than a sinecure, he made it an object to bring before the society, in his annual reports, subjects of permanent interest. In looking them over, I perceive such topics as these: 'Objections to Charitable Education,' 'The Standard of Education for the Pulpit,' 'The Influence of Educated Mind,' 'Personal Qualifications for the Pulpit,' 'Manual Labor Institutions,' 'The Clergy the Natural Advisers of Young Men,' 'Personal Piety in Candidates for the Christian Ministry,' 'Wisdom in Clergymen,' 'The Eloquence of the Pulpit as affected by Ministerial Character.' These addresses, somewhat brief, never impassioned, are full of excellent suggestions, both to the laity and the clergy. They abound in practical wisdom, and any one may read them with profit.
"In all his writings his style was unambitious, unaffected, chaste, pure, and transparent as crystal. It was true to his subject and himself. If not fervid and vehement, it was because of his moderation and self-restraint; if not pungent and dogmatic, it was marked by sustained earnestness and finished beauty. If he had not predominantly that power which is called by the older rhetoricians amplification, he eminently had another, as rarely met with in perfection, the power of exact, unincumbered, logical statement. There was sometimes in him a reticence as admirable as it was unique. You wondered why he did not say more, and yet if he had, it would only have injured the effect. The word exactly fitted the sentiment. The idea was insphered in the expression. There was no excess or extravagance in anything he did or said. His thoughts glided softly and sweetly from his pen, as a rivulet from a silver fountain.
"I have sometimes thought that Professor Haddock's intellectual powers were nowhere displayed to more advantage than in the mingled grave and gay, learned and mirthful intercourse of social life. The very tones of his voice, sympathetic and attractive, the absence of dogmatism, or superciliousness, or self-assertion,—the mingled deference and independence, the clear and sustained thought, the ready insight, the quick apprehension of proprieties, the intelligent, dexterous, but never caustic reply, the sure appreciation of the feelings of others, and the power of making them, even the lowliest, feel that what they said was listened to with interest,—the sense of the droll and ludicrous, the responsive laughter, not boisterous, but hearty, bringing tears into the eyes,—all gave a peculiar charm to this form of intercourse. It was a ministry of beneficence, diffusing kindness, intelligence, and gentleness, enlivening many a dull hour, filling many a vacant mind, and inspiring many a worthy purpose.
"'Great openness and candor, good sense, the reading of a scholar, the originality of a man who sometimes thought for himself, aspirations after excellence much higher than those of many others,—all these traits came out in his familiar talks, in which he rather unbent than exerted himself; at the same time he was as gentle and attentive a listener as a man could wish, a truly sociable being, with whom you could talk all day, and then all night, and never feel weary.'[42]
[42] Professor Torrey.
"In 1850, he received from Mr. Fillmore the appointment of Chargé d'Affaires at the court of Portugal, and in the spring of 1851 sailed for Lisbon, by way of England. I have the best means of knowing that, while at Lisbon, his intercourse and influence with the Court, and with the representatives of all the great powers, was most acceptable and most salutary. His residence in Portugal was in many ways delightful. The delicious climate, the cultivated and refined society of the diplomatic circle, temporary rest from labor, and change of scene and occupations, were all sources of pleasure. Yet here he was touched by one of his deepest sorrows, for at Lisbon, November, 1851, 'by the side of Philip Doddridge, in the English cemetery,' he buried his youngest son, a beautiful boy of eleven years.
"He returned from Portugal early in 1856, after an absence of nearly four years; and, having previously terminated his connection with the college, spent the remainder of his life at West Lebanon."
Prof. N. S. Folsom says: