ious in forming his opinions, and where he settled there he
stayed. No man could cajole or browbeat him out of his convictions.

"When our professor lay dead before us, the thought arose that, now,
no longer plodding his way to yonder dome, with steps restrained and
painful from an unknown disease, no longer weary with watching,
through his telescope, the distant orbs, nor with numbers and diagrams
to find their measure, he could survey, without a glass, infinitely
greater wonders from a higher sphere; for he had profited by his
earthly discipline: the heavens had declared to him the glory of God,
and the firmament had showed his handiwork. The day had uttered to him
speech, and the night had showed to him knowledge. Next it occurred
how natural religion had been thus reproduced in his mind and
illustrated by a higher Revelation: 'The law of the Lord is perfect,
converting the soul; the testimonies of the Lord are sure, making wise
the simple; the statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart;
the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes.'"

CHAPTER XXV.

PROFESSOR STEPHEN CHASE.--PROFESSOR DAVID PEABODY.--PROFESSOR WILLIAM
COGSWELL.

Professor Stephen Chase, who succeeded Professor Young in the chair of
Mathematics, the latter retaining the department of Natural Philosophy
and Astronomy, was the son of Benjamin Pike and Mary (Chase) Chase,
and was born at Chester, N. H., August 30, 1813.

The following notice of this distinguished mathematician is from a
commemorative "Discourse" by President Lord:--

"In the first class that entered the college, after my connection with
it, nearly twenty-three years ago, a young man, spare, tall, as yet
unformed in manner, soon engaged the attention of his teachers. We
marked his mild, serene, yet quick and penetrating eye, his
independent, unaffected, yet modest and regulated movement, his
lively, versatile, earnest, and comprehensive mind, his cheerful and
honest diligence, his punctual attendance upon the exercises of the
college, his respectful, but unstudied and confiding deportment
towards his superiors, his frank and generous, but reserved
intercourse with his fellow students, his care in selecting his most
intimate associates, and his quiet, unpretending, yet exact and
intelligent performance of all the studies of the course. An
indifferent stranger would not have noticed him, except, perhaps, to
criticize his unique exterior; and his fellow