"Boston, February 16, 1859.
"Rev. John E. Tyler,—
"My dear Sir: Your venerable father was president of Dartmouth College during my whole collegiate course—from 1822 to 1826. My earliest recollections of him are those only which a thoughtless boy of sixteen would be likely to have of a grave and reverend divine, and are of little value.
"It was not until near the close of my college life that I began really to know him. At that time the college was visited by a revival of religion of uncommon power, and my reverend president suddenly awoke (at least to my view) in an entirely new character.
"He came to the students with a power and unction which were quite irresistible, and manifested a depth of religious feeling for us which made us at once love him and admire him. He seemed to have found his appropriate sphere of labor; to have got into an atmosphere which filled his soul and body with life and energy; to have work to do which was congenial, which he loved, and which he knew how to do as few men did. He was at once a son of thunder and a son of consolation. His discourses, which had always been able and instructive, and characterized by simplicity of arrangement and neatness and purity of style, had now the additional attraction of an animated and energetic delivery.
"And yet, perhaps, the conference room and the prayer-meeting were the places in which, at that time, Dr. Tyler specially excelled. He was naturally rather heavy and lethargic in his manner of speaking, and it required a good deal to excite and warm him thoroughly. But the scenes and duties incident to a powerful revival of religion, in which a hundred or more young men were more or less interested, supplied the necessary stimulus, and the strong man was fully waked up, and in his extemporaneous addresses particularly, poured out streams of Christian eloquence which he seldom equaled in his more carefully prepared public discourses, and which few men whom I have ever heard, could excel or equal.
"His labors, however, were not confined to the pulpit and the conference meeting. He cheerfully and heartily did the work of a pastor among the students, going from room to room, instructing and exhorting his beloved pupils, and praying with them. He was among us, not as the grave and dignified head of the college, but rather as a loving, anxious father, seeking to instruct and save his children; or, as an elder brother, tenderly solicitous for our spiritual welfare. He was gentle among us, even as a nurse cherisheth her children. And God, I verily believe, gave him spiritual children from among our number, as the reward of his fidelity; children who never ceased to love him while he lived, and who will cherish his memory with gratitude to their dying hours."
Professor Folsom says:
"Dartmouth College was fortunate in getting Mr. Tyler to stand in the line of its excellent presidents. Each of them was different from the rest in special qualifications, in work performed, in kind and force of influence exerted; but each did what made his administration an important period in the history of the college, and extended its fame and usefulness. Dr. Tyler was inferior to none of them in the depth and extent to which he affected the character of the students for good, and through them, wherever the Divine Providence called them to live and labor, promoted the welfare of the country; the enlightenment and moral activity, and power, and happiness of the people.
"His splendid physique, in which he surpassed everybody in the region; his noble stature and well-proportioned form; his head finely poised, and around it a halo of parental benignity, its perpetual and unfading crown; these struck every one at first sight, and prepossessed all in his favor. I know of none with whom to compare him in these respects except Ezekiel Webster. In his whole spirit and mien, in look and word and action, he was a father, and his whole administration was parental in the best sense of the word. This benignity, as we learn from his 'Memoir,' marked his subsequent career as president of the East Windsor Theological School. His biographer, taking notice of the fact that 'the perversities of human nature make their appearance in such institutions as well as elsewhere,' observes that 'the strong affections of the father in him occasionally swayed the firmness of the tutor and governor, and rendered him indulgent and yielding in cases where there was call for the peremptory and authoritative.' In the first two years of our college life, from the fall of 1824 to the spring of 1826, two or three instances of wrongdoing passed unnoticed which perhaps deserved such a mode of treatment. There were, moreover, it is to be confessed, irregularities and bad practices among students in all the classes at that period, but they were exceptional, so far as my knowledge of them extended, and would have required a system of espionage to detect them, or informers from the guilty ones themselves. Dartmouth however, at its worst, in that period, was not one whit behind any other college in New England, in its general tone of morals, in observance of law, in habits of study and in scholarly attainments. There were not a few whose sense of honor was very high, and as they were popular and influential, they in some degree necessarily gave tone to others. Nay, surrounded by such an atmosphere of benignity—of which every student was more or less conscious, feeling it not only in the presence of the president, but also more or less in our connection with every other officer of the college without exception—I think there was far less tendency to excess, far less of the irritation of inclination against prohibition of law; and assuredly there was never apparent a disposition to rebel from hope of impunity through the recognized forbearance of our teachers.