THE NEW ENGLANDER. No. IV. OCTOBER, 1843. REMINISCENCES OF ALEXANDER METCALF FISHER, LATE PROFESSOR OF MATHEMATICS AND NATURAL PHILOSOPHY IN YALE COLlege. THE exalted reputation for talents which the late Professor Fisher left behind him, has conspired with the affecting circumstances of his death, to throw a romantic but melancholy interest around his memory. More than twenty years have now passed, since Yale College and the surrounding community, were suddenly involved in the deepest gloom at the tidings, that one respected and beloved in no ordinary degree, who had just exchanged with them the parting salutation, and embarked for the Old World under the most flattering auspices, had suffered a terrible shipwreck and was buried beneath the waves! A new generation has sprung up, who have lis tened with interest to the tale of sorrow, that has mingled with enthusiastic expressions of admiration for his talents and virtues from his former associates and pupils; and the wish has often been repeated, that a full biography of him might be given to the public. Not being in possession of his writings, we have not the means of making out a complete analysis of his scientific labors, or a full history of his brief but remarkable life; but we propose only to recite a few partic Vol. I. 58 ulars respecting him, gleaned from the excellent "Eulogy" of Professor Kingsley pronounced on the occasion of his death, and from several obituary notices published at the same period. This we do by way of introduction to the " Reminiscences," the title of an unpublished manuscript now before us, written by an intimate friend and classmate of Professor Fisher, soon after his decease. ALEXANDER METCALF FISHER was born at Franklin, Massachusetts, in the year 1794. His parents were much respected members of the pastoral charge of the late celebrated Dr. Emmons. He early exhi bited tokens of a superior mind and an aptitude for learning, which determined his parents to give him a liberal education; and, accordingly, he entered Yale College, in the autumn of 1809. Though but fifteen years of age, and diminutive in person, yet the superiority of his mind, and his love of study, were soon apparent, and he speedily acquired and easily retained throughout his academic course, the first place in his class. He took his baccalaureate degree in 1813, and returned to his father's house. ican Journal of Science, brought him rapidly into notice among scientific men; and, in the year 1817, when on the decease of the lamented President Dwight, Professor Day then filling the chair of mathemat ics and natural philosophy, was elevated to the presidency, Mr. Fisher was elected adjunct professor in that department. From this period, his plans of study were laid out on the broadest scale; his health improved; he ascended the heights of science with almost unexampled rapidity; and he fulfilled all the duties of an instructor and officer of the college with the greatest ability and faith Without any definite plan of life before him, but desirous of examining for himself the grounds of the Christian faith, in which he had been educated, he placed himself, the following year, under the instruction of his profound and venerable pastor. He wrote a series of dissertations on points of theology proposed to him by the Doctor; often, with his usual independence, controverting some of the peculiar and favorite opinions of that distinguished divine, who expressed, at times, as we were informed by Professor Fisher himself, much uneasiness, not to say displeasure, at having his peculiar doctrines canvassed with so much freedom by a youthfulness. of nineteen. It is not unlikely that this was the reason for breaking off their connexion; for the next year Mr. Fisher repaired to Andover, and entered the Theological Seminary. Here he devoted himself to the regular studies of the Institution with his accustomed diligence, until impaired health compelled him to return home. His constitution had received a severe shock, from which it did not recover for several years afterwards. In 1815 he was appointed tutor in Yale College, and entered upon the duties of the office at the opening of the fall term. At this time, his health was very poor, his person much emaciated, and his spirits deeply depressed. Regular employment so congenial to his taste, gradually repaired his strength and revived his spirits; and he selected the most difficult studies, for, as Delambre observes, difficulties constitute the natural aliment of genius. The solution of various mathematical problems proposed by Dr. Adrain in a magazine published in the city of New York, an able review of Day's Algebra in a public journal, and a profound Essay on Musical Temperament, written during his tutorship, and published in the first volume of the Amer In the time which elapsed," says Prof. Kingsley, "from his election to his new office to his departure for Europe, he had exam. ined and digested the writings of the principal philosophers of Britain, tracing every discovery, theory, and illustration to its source; and had read, with the same attention, many of the most valuable publications of the mathematicians and philosophers of France. He had, in the same time, prepared a full course of lec tures in natural philosophy, both theoretical and experimental, which for copiousness, clearness, and exact adaptation to the purposes of instruction, equaled the highest expectations of his friends. "Having thus far accomplished his original design, he resolved on an excursion to Europe, not so much for the sake of making new acqui sitions in science, for the knowl edge of European philosophers is found in their books,-as to visit the places of public instruction, and examine by actual inspection the modes of communicating knowledge in foreign universities; to form an acquaintance with men who were * This constitutes the first article in that Journal, which has now reached nearly fifty volumes and contributed greatly to the advancement of American science. distinguished in his own depart ment; and to obtain such information as might enable him more fully to aid in raising the scientific character of his country, and in promoting the usefulness and prosperity of the college, to the interests of which he was entirely devoted. Every preparation was made which was thought necessary to secure the attainment of his object; and, after the fullest inquiries, and taking the best advice, he embarked at New York for Liverpool, in the Albion packet, where, to use his own language, in the last communication received from him, 'every thing seemed to promise a quick, safe, and agreeable passage.' Among the various melancholy wrecks of packet-ships to England that have from time to time spread consternation and grief over both countries, seldom has one оссаsioned wider and deeper sorrow than the loss of the packet-ship Albion. On the 1st of April, 1822, nearly sixty passengers appeared on the deck of this elegant ship, all animated with the prospect of a happy voyage, and left the harbor of New York, reciprocating with their friends the joyous shouts customary on such occasions. On the 22d of the same month, they all, with the exception of nine persons, including but one passenger, met a watery grave on the coast of Ireland, near Kinsale. Their passage had been pleasant until the 21st, when the ship encountered and weathered a severe gale; but the brave captain and tempest-beaten crew, cheered all on board with the hope that in less than two days they should reach their destined port. Early in the evening of that day the packet "shipped a sea which knocked her on her beams-ends, swept her decks, and carried her mainmast by the board." The ship became unmanageable, and the unhappy inmates drifted along at the mercy of the waves, agonizing or reviving under alternations of fear and hope, until twelve o'clock at night, when the light of "Old Head" came in sight, and warned them that they were rapidly drifting ashore, on a rocky and most dangerous coast. About four o'clock, as the day dawned, the commander, Captain Williams, who had made every effort to encourage the men and preserve the ship, communicated the dreadful certainty that no efforts could possibly save her, and in about five minutes she struck-the breakers dashed furiously over her-she rapidly filled, and shortly after went to pieces, within a few rods of the land. The shore was rocky and precipitous, rising to the height of one hundred and fifty feet, and those who in great numbers were collected on the brow, were prevented from rendering adequate assistance; and the opening light of day unveiled the distressing and hopeless spectacle of the numerous ship's company clinging in agony to the shrouds and broken parts of the ship, and plunging at short intervals into the raging abyss. The surviving passenger reports that he last saw our friend in the cabin when it was fast filling with water-that he looked deeply anxious, but was observing the barometer, probably with the view of watching any indications it might afford of abating violence in the tempest. It is believed, therefore, that he met his fate below, being drowned by the sudden influx of waters. "If," says Prof. Kingsley, we shrink from approaching the final scene, and check our imaginations, which would paint in too vivid colors the last sufferings of our departed friend, what must have been the horror, the agony which rent his bosom, in actual view of a death so sudden, so unexpected, so awful! But here, let us not indulge too far our gloomy surmises. Others may have been distracted with fear, and wild with apprehension, but he no doubt was calm and 66 |