The History of Dartmouth College

by Baxter Perry Smith

It was with no narrow or exclusive spirit, nor with a merely technical purpose, that Professor Putnam pursued his studies, or directed those of others. Every true book was a nucleus around which all thought and knowledge of similar kind were grouped,—a central point from which his mind radiated in all directions within the sphere of the subject. Could he read Plato and Aristotle without studying the course of ancient philosophy and its influence on the modern? or Demosthenes, without an investigation of the virtues and failings of Athenian statesmen? or Thucydides, without meditation on the causes of the desolation of empires and states? or Homer and Sophocles, without a quick comparison with Dante and Milton and Shakespeare? It was indeed a characteristic of Professor Putnam, and one cause why his knowledge was becoming, had indeed become, at once so ample and so serviceable, that it was not an accumulation of facts disconnected or bound together by mere accidental associations, but an organic growth, every fibre of the most distant branch tracing itself back to the one trunk, and the sap from the living root feeding and nourishing the whole.

In his special profession, Professor Putnam would be allowed to hold rank among the very best. The most kind and winning of teachers, he was the most exacting and stimulating. By questions sharp, pertinent, and various, thoroughly testing the knowledge of the student, he at once made him feel his deficiencies, and inspired him to supply them. Even the dull and careless felt the singular fascination of his look and tone, caught something of the life of his spirit, and were gradually lifted above themselves. Gentle, affable, ready to communicate, dignified, thorough, patient, and learned, never harsh, never repulsive, he was earnest to meet every want of the student. His whole course was marked by unwearied fidelity.

To instruct was an occupation and a duty, to which he made everything else yield. He was thoroughly desirous to help those who came under his care, so revealing to them their own deficiencies, and so placing before them the methods and results of a better scholarship, as to incite them to new exertions, and aid them to independent and vigorous activity. No one, unless very groveling and earthy, could be long under his training, without insensibly catching something of the finer spirit of a beautiful discipline. His own philosophic thought imparted its movement to their minds, and many are they who have gone from these halls, within the last fourteen years, who can trace back to him some of their best methods of study.

Language was, in his view, no dead product, but the finer breath and effluence of the national life, as subtle, as many sided in its aspects, as the national spirit itself,—into the knowledge of which one must grow by slow degrees, bending his pliant mind till it gradually yields to the new channels of thought and expression.

"An unfaithful scholar," says one of his pupils, "was gently yet unmistakably reminded of his delinquency, perhaps by assistance being omitted upon a point which he might easily have ascertained for himself. One whom he saw struggling to learn he invariably helped, and this help was given so kindly that many a one would try to make a good recitation if only to gratify one so much beloved. The best scholars were quickened by his most delicately expressed appreciation of their victories, and even sluggish souls felt an unwonted light and warmth stirring in them when they came into his presence. I remember well our last recitation in Greek. It was from Plato. He started with an idea of the noble philosopher, Christianized it, and gave it to us in a few simple, sublime words, with an attitude and look that melted the hearts of all.

"It has sometimes occurred to me that he could not seem constantly to others as he did to me, like one who had dropped from a higher sphere, to remain a little while in order to draw the hearts that should love him to a purer, higher, and better life. But conversation with others has shown me that it has long been a general impression that he moved in a realm above the common level of even the best men."

There was still another aspect in which Professor Putnam presented himself, which should not be passed over without at least an allusion. Having completed his professional studies, his own tastes and higher aims, no less than the wishes of his friends, induced him occasionally to exercise the functions of the Christian ministry. Hence he sought and received ordination according to the usages of the Congregational churches, and in that relation stood in his lot. With what earnestness and pureness of motive, with what loftiness of purpose and fidelity in his high calling, and acceptance to those who heard him, I need not try to express. But I may say that it was not for want of solicitation that he did not exchange his professorship for places of considerable public importance in the other calling. It was his duty, a belief of his fitness for his post, that kept him from some inviting fields of labor elsewhere.

Having referred in fitting terms to his call to the Andover Theological Seminary, to the closing scenes in his life, and to his death at sea, Professor Brown says in conclusion:

"Few lives were more perfect than his, whose youth gave so fair a promise, whose riper years so fully redeemed the pledge. His presence shall still go with us all, to excite us to new fidelity, to enkindle within us nobler affections, to inspire us with holier purposes."

His classmate Rev. Dr. Furber says: