JONATHAN P. CUSHING was born March 12, 1793, at Rochester,
New-Hampshire, and, like most of the eminent men of our country, in
humble circumstances. He was early left an orphan to the care of a
guardian, who seems to have been both negligent and unfaithful. By
this man he was carried to his own residence, in a remote part of the
State, where the population was scanty, and there were few schools. In
his immediate vicinity there were none. There he was employed in doing
the drudgery of his guardian's farm and mill until his thirteenth or
fourteenth year. It was an improvement in his situation, when at that
time he was bound apprentice to a saddler, especially as in New
Hampshire by law, or custom equally imperative with law, it is the
duty of a master to send his apprentices to school for six months of
the term for which they are bound. This advantage Mr. Cushing enjoyed,
and it seems to have been the only regular instruction he received
before his eighteenth year. But even that germ, falling on a good
soil, fructified. He began to feel the thirst for learning, which was
to be the reigning impulse of his later years, and to loathe the
prospect of a life spent in mere bodily labor. His mind, conscious of
its own powers, and having once tasted of the sweets flowing from
their exercise, could not submit to sink back again to the state of
lethargy from which it had just been roused. The fruit of such
thoughts and feelings was a resolution which he formed and very
suddenly announced while at work one day, with another apprentice.
Starting up from his seat he said "I am determined to have a liberal
education, if it cost me forty years of my life to get it." He bought
out the remainder of his term, and entered himself at an academy at
Exeter, in his native State. There he prosecuted his studies with
great diligence, supporting himself meanwhile by laboring at his
trade, until he was prepared to enter Dartmouth College. He became a
member of the Junior Class in that institution in 1815, and obtained
his first degree in 1817. His standing in his class was highly
respectable, though not so {164} elevated as would naturally be
supposed by his acquaintances in after life, who knew nothing of the
deficiencies of his early education, and only adverted to his
acknowledged talents, his literary zeal, and the strength and
constancy of his character. On leaving the walls of College, the world
was all before him. Go where he would, he must look to his labors, not
merely for fame and fortune, but for subsistence; and in every
direction around him (thanks to the good Being who has so abundantly
blessed our country) he saw fields of usefulness and distinction
inviting, and promising liberally to reward, his exertions. The
intensity of his studies, however, for the last few years, had
impaired his constitution, and he had reason to believe that a
southern residence would be more propitious to the restoration of his
health, and at least equally favorable to his success in other
respects. With these views he left his native State, determined to
establish himself as a lawyer at Charleston, S. C. On reaching
Richmond, he met with an acquaintance from New England, who had been
engaged as a tutor at Hampden Sidney College, (an institution of which
until that time Mr. Cushing had never heard) but who from ill health
was not able to enter on the discharge of his duties. At his
solicitation, strengthened by that of the late Dr. Rice, ("_clarum et
venerabile nomen_") with whom Mr. C. then became acquainted, the
latter was induced to undertake for a few weeks the fulfilment of his
friend's engagement. Before even that brief time had expired, the
young man died, and Mr. Cushing became, by a train of circumstances
apparently fortuitous, and almost without his own agency, a member of
the Faculty of H. S. College. There was but little in the condition of
the institution at that time to induce such a man, young, of energetic
character, and conscious ability, to desire to cast in his lot there.
No class had graduated regularly for several years, and the degrees
occasionally conferred on individuals, who had gone through the whole
course, were not respected at other Colleges. There was hardly the
name of a Library or Philosophical Apparatus; and the buildings were
to the last degree unsightly and inadequate. It had, however, one
recommendation, which with Mr. Cushing, would outweigh many defects.
It was a seminary of learning, where he could gratify the strong
passion of his soul for acquiring and communicating instruction, more
delightful to him, as he often declared, than food to a hungry man.
With all this, however, he could not readily forego the advantages
attending the line of life he had chalked out for himself. Twice he
determined to dissolve the connexion he had formed with the College,
and once he had gone to the tavern for the purpose of taking his seat
in the stage which was to carry him away. On this occasion he was
induced to return by Dr. Hoge, the then President, to whom he looked
up with affectionate veneration, and his acquaintance with whom he was
accustomed to regard as one of the most fortunate events of his life.
So soon as he considered himself established at Hampden Sidney, he set
to work with characteristic vigor and singleness of purpose, to raise
the standing of the institution. He prevailed on the Trustees to
introduce a new system of discipline and study, and being soon
appointed Professor of Natural Philosophy and Chemistry, and
experiencing the disadvantages of the very deficient apparatus, he
made large additions to it at his own expense, trusting to the future
ability of the College to repay him. Dr. Hoge dying in 1820, Mr.
Cushing was elected President, and from that time till his own death
within the last twelve months, the events of his life were little more
than a series of efforts, the most judicious, untiring, and
self-sacrificing, to foster the interests of the College over which he
presided. One of his first objects, necessarily, was to improve and
enlarge the College buildings, which at that time were probably by far
the most indifferent belonging to any institution of the kind in the
Union. But while it was obvious that the prosperity, perhaps the
existence of the College depended on making this improvement, the
means of making it were far from being equally apparent.
The institution possessing very little corporate property, and having
never been a favorite with the Legislature, the possible munificence
of individuals seemed to offer the only hope of success. That this
would avail, was so little expected, that in the expressive language
of one of its friends, his plans were looked on by the trustees as the
dreams of youth. He was the man, however, to change such dreams into
realities. His appeals to the liberality of the friends of the College
were so well responded to, that in a short time he had caused to be
erected the centre and one wing of a stately and commodious building,
altogether suited to the purposes intended; and in the years 1829,
'30, and '31, he procured additional subscriptions to the amount of
$30,000, with which that building was completed, others erected, and a
permanent fund established to aid in the support of the Professors.
From time to time he continued to make additions to the philosophical
apparatus, and carried the students of the College through a regular
course of literary and scientific study, having early obtained for his
graduates an admission "_ad eundem gradum_" at other Colleges without
examination. While thus efficiently discharging his duties as
President, he did not neglect those of Professor. On the contrary, all
who knew him will bear witness to the study and labor with which he
extended his researches into those branches of learning which it was
his province to teach. His lectures were thus the overflowings of a
mind filled with the results of previous investigation and meditation;
not, as we sometimes see in the case of indolent Professors, themes
prepared for the occasion, and exhausting the scanty stock of science
which had been accumulated on the subject. But while justice is thus
done to Mr. Cushing's real ability, and to the admirable use which he
made of it, (his strength of purpose, like a hard master, exacting its
full quota of exertion from every faculty,) it yet cannot be
maintained that his mind was of the highest order. His case well
illustrated the distinction which has been taken between genius and
talent. The former original and creative; the latter acquiring,
modifying, and adapting to general use the productions of the first.
While it is the prerogative of genius to discover fields of science
hitherto unknown, it is the more humble, but perhaps not less useful
province of talent, to cultivate what is thus brought to light, and
prepare it to be possessed by the public mind. The love of
communicating knowledge, which has been already mentioned as one of
Mr. Cushing's most striking characteristics, indicated, or at least
happily coincided with, the line of {165} usefulness for which,
according to this view of his mental constitution, nature had fitted
him. And it may well be questioned whether any of those who have
sounded the profoundest depths of science, and first brought into
light great truths previously unknown, would, if placed in the same
circumstances with himself, have effected so much, and discharged the
manifold and peculiar duties devolving on him, with equal skill and
success. As a disciplinarian, he was mild and lenient, even to an
extent considered by some as approaching to laxity. But such persons
do not seem sufficiently to have adverted to the difficulties of his
situation. He was not the Rector of Christ Church, or of Trinity--not
even the President of Harvard or of Yale, but the head of a feeble
institution, struggling almost for existence, and dependent on public
patronage for support. With him, forbearance was among the first and
most essential duties. Moreover, it was well understood by his
students that his mildness was the result of principle, not of
feebleness of character, and that there was a point beyond which they
could not with impunity transgress. Such zeal, tempered by such
prudence, could not be fruitless. The result of his labors and his
cares, of what he did, and what he forebore to do, was, that in a few
years after his induction into the Presidency, Hampden Sidney might
fairly be pronounced the most flourishing literary institution in the
Commonwealth. Its tide of success, however, was soon checked, and its
onward progress stayed, by the opening of the halls of the University
to students, an event which, however auspicious to the literary
interests of the community at large, could not fail to be unfavorable
to another seminary of learning in the same region of country, and
dependent in a great degree on the same population for its supply of
pupils. Visible as this was in the thinned ranks of his students, it
does not seem to have caused Mr. Cushing to "bate one jot of heart or
hope," but rather to have stimulated him to renewed exertions. For it
was soon after this that he undertook and effected the improvement of
the College buildings and the acquisition of a permanent fund. Nor did
he cease to urge on the Legislature the just claims of the College to
some share of the public favor. But the bills introduced for that
purpose, though generally zealously supported and sustained, on
grounds which ought to have insured their success, were always gotten
rid of--most usually by the parliamentary manœuvre of tacking to them
other subjects more or less incongruous, until they broke down under
their own weight.
It is our purpose to consider the character of President Cushing,
mainly as one of the scholars and public men of Virginia. We shall
therefore dwell but little on his private affairs. But in a sketch of
his life, even so brief as this, we cannot omit a fact which exerted
the strongest influence on the happiness of his latter years. In the
year 1827 he _married_, in an adjoining county, a pious, intelligent,
and interesting young lady, of whom, as she survives to mourn his
loss, delicacy forbids that we should speak in terms of stronger
panegyric. A good Providence crowned their union with lovely children;
and in the bosom of a family so interesting, President Cushing found a
felicity which he well knew how to enjoy, and a relaxation from his
incessant toils and harassing cares equally necessary to his body and
to his mind. Though to the world chiefly known as a scholar and the
President of a College, it was perhaps in the mild and mellow light of
domestic retirement that his character shone with the most attractive
lustre. As a friend he made few professions, but when self-denying
service was needed, his zeal prompted him to exertions the most
strenuous, persevering, and efficient. He knew how to feel for the
bereavement of the widow's heart, and with tender sympathy to wipe the
tear from the widow's eye. May He who seeth in secret reward him for
these deeds of love, by pouring consolation into that cup of
affliction which His providence has presented to the lip of her who
was once too happy in being her husband's helpmate in ministering
consolation to others.
Although a native of another State, Mr. Cushing was, in his connexions
and his feelings, thoroughly a Virginian; and, as might be supposed
from the nature of his pursuits, peculiarly regardful of the literary
interests of the Commonwealth. He therefore hailed with joy, and
actively engaged in establishing and fostering the Society for the
promotion of those interests, formed in Richmond four or five years
ago, of which he continued a zealous and efficient member the short
residue of his days. For Hampden Sidney, however, he continued to feel
a peculiar regard, which he evinced not only by the faithful
performance of his duties as its President, but by repeatedly refusing
very advantageous offers made him of Professorships in other Colleges,
and by expressions of warm attachment to that institution, at that
last solemn period of his life, when affectation of such regard, if
ever possible with him, would have been effectually checked by the
near prospect of the awful realities of the eternal world. His death,
though an untimely, was not a sudden event. His constitution had
perhaps never entirely recovered from the injury inflicted by intense
application whilst a college student; and as his habits of study
continued the same, the effects became gradually more apparent, until
at length the unprecedented rigor of the last winter prostrated the
structure which had been so long undermined. Early in the spring,
being advised by his physicians to seek a milder climate, he set out
for the south, accompanied by a part of his family. But on reaching
Raleigh, his journey and his earthly pilgrimage were both cut short.
There, surrounded by those whom he loved best on earth, and who he
knew well returned his love, looking back on a life of useful and
honorable exertion, rewarded by distinguished success; and looking
forward in the full assurance of hope to an eternity of happiness,
secured to him by a Savior in whom he cordially believed, and whom he
had long found precious to his soul, he met death not with calmness
and fortitude merely, but with triumph! He had just entered on his
forty-third year, and it may be supposed had hardly obtained the
maturity of his powers and the full limits of his influence. To our
eyes, it would seem his sun went down at noonday. His death was a
source of the truest and deepest grief, not only to a family more than
ordinarily devoted to him, but to a large circle of friends his
virtues had gained to him throughout Virginia, and to those especially
who had at heart the prosperity of the College over which he had so
ably presided. He died in the communion of the Episcopal Church, which
with many inducements to bias him in {166} another direction, he had
chosen for his spiritual mother at the commencement of his religious
life, and which with decided, and it is believed increasing affection,
he continued to love even unto death. Yet no man possessed a spirit
more truly Catholic, and no man delighted more to enjoy Christian
communion with the followers of his master, though they might in some
less essential particulars, understand the will of that master
differently from himself. Like the Apostle Paul, he rejoiced in the
spread of the gospel, by whomsoever preached; and he was far more
desirous to see his Savior honored, and to learn that sinners had
repented and believed, through whatever instrumentality it pleased God
to use, than to see the tokens of divine favor confined even to that
church which he best loved. In his last days, like the illustrious
Grotius, he suspected that even science, with all her loveliness and
her benificence, had engrossed more of his affections and more of his
thoughts than should have been given to aught below the skies; and as
he drew nearer to the eternal world, his soul was more and more rapt
in the beatific contemplation of that incomprehensible glory which God
hath prepared for them that love his Son.
His remains are interred in the burying-ground of the Episcopal Church
in the city of Raleigh. The spot which contains them is marked by a
monument erected by the Trustees of Hampden Sidney College, and
designed, while it commemorates his merits, to testify their sorrow
for his loss, and their gratitude for his services. But a more
enduring monument, and that which he would have prized far above any
other, will be found, as we trust, in the abiding and brightening
glories of the Institution to which his best years were devoted, and
which shared, with the partner of his bosom and the children of his
affection, the last anxieties of his ebbing life.