of the last
century, Mr. Wadsworth, the President, states, "that he expounded
the Scriptures, once eleven, and sometimes eight or nine times in
the course of a week."--_Harv. Reg._, p. 249, and _Quincy's Hist.
Harv. Univ._, Vol. I. p. 440.

Similar duties were formerly required of the President at other
American colleges. In some, at the present day, he performs the
duties of a professor in connection with those of his own office,
and presides at the daily religious exercises in the Chapel.

The title of President is given to the chief officer in some of
the colleges of the English universities.

PRESIDENT'S CHAIR. At Harvard College, there is in the Library an
antique chair, venerable by age and association, which is used
only on Commencement Day, when it is occupied by the President
while engaged in delivering the diplomas for degrees. "Vague
report," says Quincy, "represents it to have been brought to the
College during the presidency of Holyoke, as the gift of the Rev.
Ebenezer Turell of Medford (the author of the Life of Dr. Colman).
Turell was connected by marriage with the Mathers, by some of whom
it is said to have been brought from England." Holyoke was
President from 1737 to 1769. The round knobs on the chair were
turned by President Holyoke, and attached to it by his own hands.
In the picture of this honored gentleman, belonging to the
College, he is painted in the old chair, which seems peculiarly
adapted by its strength to support the weight which fills it.

Before the erection of Gore Hall, the present library building,
the books of the College were kept in Harvard Hall. In the same
building, also, was the Philosophy Chamber, where the chair
usually stood for the inspection of the curious. Over this domain,
from the year 1793 to 1800, presided Mr. Samuel Shapleigh, the
Librarian. He was a dapper little bachelor, very active and
remarkably attentive to the ladies who visited the Library,
especially the younger portion of them. When ushered into the room
where stood the old chair, he would watch them with eager eyes,
and, as soon as one, prompted by a desire of being able to say, "I
have sat in the President's Chair," took this seat, rubbing his
hands together, he would exclaim, in great glee, "A forfeit! a
forfeit!" and demand from the fair occupant a kiss, a fee which,
whether refused or not, he very seldom failed to obtain.[61]

This custom, which seems now-a-days to be going out of fashion, is