University of Virginia Library

VII. Schools of Mathematics and Philosophy

By the terms of the original enactments, no student
was to be admitted to the School of Mathematics who
was not "an adept in all the branches of numerical
arithmetic." The whole round of instruction was divided
into four classes. The first junior was occupied
with the theory of designating numbers, the scales of notation,
the derivation of the several arithmetical rules,
and the first problems of algebra, analyzed with and without
the use of letters to show the advantages of employing
letters. The second junior continued the study of
algebra, and began the study of geometry, and also of
general trigonometry in its broadest applications.
Spherical trigonometry was treated at length in its relations
to practical and nautical astronomy and the projection
and construction of maps. Then followed analytical
geometry and the first part of differential calculus.
The senior classes were engaged with the study of differential
and integral calculus. There was also an extensive
course in mixed mathematics.

In counting up the general subjects in which he gave
instruction, Bonnycastle, Key's successor, particularized
them as "(1) those simple elementary rules which do
not aim to cultivate the powers of reasoning independently
of numbers, but seek only to determine such numbers
as occur in domestic economy, and the various departments
of business; (2) those very general, extensive,
and exact rules, of the nature of logic, which have sufficed

to reduce three-fourths of the propositions of which
the human reason is conversant, to propositions either
of pure number, or that can be solved by means of pure
number; (3) those rules of mere calculation which are
required in such branches of practical mathematics as
surveying, navigation, and astronomy." It was the second
of these sections that was studied with the most
care in the University, because it bore so directly on general
education by the enlargement of view which it fostered,
and the more active exercise of intellect, and the
greater disposition to reason, which it encouraged.

It was altogether in harmony with Jefferson's practical
and liberal mind that scientific studies should, apart
from other good reasons, have been held in esteem by
him because of the special qualities which they called for
in their prosecution. Experimental investigation has
been correctly described as a course in applied logic. It
signifies accuracy in sense, perception, and calculation;
reveals the rigid relation of cause and effect; and reflects
an intellectual attitude that is free from the distracting
bias of prejudice, false pretension, and superstition.[7]
Jefferson's early environment in the remote country had
made him from youth a student of nature in all its
aspects; and this disposition, natural and acquired, had
been invigorated by his sojourn in France at a time when
experimental science was deeply interesting the inquiring
minds of that aroused nation. There were chairs dedicated
to the science in the Universities of Paris, Toulouse
and Montpelier. The establishment of the Republic
only served to stimulate the more its pursuit in every
department. The study of it on its mathematical and
physical sides had received an impetus in the English universities

from the marvellous researches of Newton; but
there was no course there in biology, and no employment
of the modern scientific methods, until after the middle of
the nineteenth century,—indeed, what is known in our
own day as scientific education sprang up in England outside
of the pale of her two greatest seats of learning, Oxford
and Cambridge.

From an early period, scientific studies had been popular
in all the influential American colleges. Astronomy
was taught at Harvard in 1642, and natural philosophy,
in 1690; and instruction was also given there in chemistry,
in 1760, and in botany about the same time. King's
College and the University of Pennsylvania, being purely
secular in their organization, were disposed to encourage
such studies with uncommon ardour. By 1756, the latter
had established courses in applied mechanics, astronomy,
natural history, chemistry, and agriculture. Chemistry
formed a valuable part of the system at the College of
William and Mary, in 1779; and there was a separate professorship
for it at Princeton in 1795; at Yale, in 1802;
at the College of South Carolina, in 1811; and at Williams
College, in 1821. We thus see that, by the day
lectures began in the University of Virginia, the study of
the sciences had made respectable progress in all the
American institutions of the highest grade, chiefly because
there was a special need for such studies in a new
country in the first stages of rapid development from the
original state of nature.

The elective system, which has always prevailed at
the University of Virginia, was more vigorously promotive
of scientific courses than the curriculum of the older
colleges. The popularity of such courses has arisen, in
no small measure, from their direct bearing on vocational
life. It is not their disciplinary influence upon the mind

which gives them their principal value, but rather the
practical information which they impart; and it is this
sort of information which has always seemed the most
desirable in the opinion of the average American. The
ascendency of the scientific studies dates, in the United
States at least, from the spread of the elective system,—
which the University of Virginia was the first to adopt
as a system appropriate to every subject in the round of
its instruction.

The School of Natural Philosophy was only open to
those students who had passed a successful examination
in numerical arithmetic. During Key's occupancy of the
chair of mathematics, Bonnycastle delivered lectures on
the relations of mathematical science to natural philosophy,
but after Key's resignation, Patterson, the new professor,
—Bonnycastle having been transferred to Key's
vacant place,—was restricted to pure physics. Upon
him also devolved the duty of showing the application of
physical science to the arts, which was justly considered
of the first importance in a country endowed with so
many natural sources of wealth, requiring a scientific
education for their utilization. In 1828, the small oval
room situated on the first floor of the Rotunda was reserved
for the reception of the philosophical apparatus.
The proper manner of safeguarding these invaluable articles
was a perplexing one from the start,—when they
fell into bad shape, they had either to be sent to Philadelphia
or New York for restoration, or skilful workmen
from those cities had to be brought on for that purpose
to the University, both of which courses of action inevitably
caused delay and expense. It was proposed, in
1826, that "two intelligent and willing lads" should be
trained to handle these instruments and repair the damage
sure to result from wear and tear. These lads too

were to be employed, instead of the janitor, to assist the
professor with his experiments in the lecture-room. Apparently,
this suggestion was not carried into practice,
since no further reference to the plan is recorded. The
course of instruction in this school was divided into two
sections: the first embraced statics, dynamics, hydrostatics,
hydro-dynamics, pneumatics, crystallization,
molecular and capillary attraction, strength and stress
of materials, and acoustics; the second, heat, electricity,
galvanism, magnetism, electric magnetism, optics, and
astronomy. The lectures in both sections were illustrated
and enforced by experiments. During the session
of 1839–40, the sciences of geology and mineralogy
were transferred to this school. It was the relation of
geology to our own country which received the foremost
consideration; and only those branches of mineralogy
were taught which had an economical value, or which
merged in geology.

The interest in natural history felt by all the American
colleges had grown so keen by 1817, that it swelled to
the volume of an academic craze. The collections of
plants and minerals in their possession were already remarkable
for size and value. As early as 1825, the
University of Virginia had become the recipient of some
of the fruits of this mania as exhibited by private individuals:
Dr. Boswell, of Gloucester county, during that
year, donated to it two large boxes of minerals which he
had obtained in Germany; and Jefferson, by his last will,
followed up this gift with his own museum of curiosities.
In the beginning, the professor of natural history was
charged with the tuition in chemistry, botany, zoology,
mineralogy, geology, and rural economy. To him was
also assigned the creation of the botanical garden to
which Jefferson gave so much inquiring thought during

the last months of his life; he had gone so far, indeed,
as to instruct Emmet to lay off its various lines; and the
proctor had been directed to supply the hired laborers
who were to prepare the beds for the numerous plants.
Every plant was to be of a useful, and not an ornamental,
character. The area selected for the garden was irregular
in surface and strewn with the débris of the brickkilns.
A hill had to be terraced, and the grounds along
a branch underdrained.

Emmet seems to have looked upon the project with impatience,
although, it will be recalled, he was so soon to
experiment at Morea, his home, with so much ardour, in
the same province. In October, 1826,—Jefferson having
passed away,—he asserted that the requirements of
his chair were so laborious and so exclusive that he would
be unable to give the garden the protracted and discriminating
attention which was imperative; and moreover, he
acknowledged that botany and rural economy were
sciences with which he was only "superficially acquainted";
that they demanded a "thorough practical
knowledge"; and that this could only be gathered up at
the expense of his other duties. At his request, the
Board of Visitors relieved him of the task of establishing
the garden. They were either convinced that the
School of Natural History contained too many subjects
for instruction by one man, or they perceived that some of
these subjects, being unpopular with the students, could
be safely dropped from the course, for, at their meeting
in July, 1827, they confined Emmet, for the present at
least, to chemistry, materia medica, and pharmacy, and
directed that the school thereafter should be known as
the School of Chemistry and Materia Medica. If any
instruction in any branch of natural history was given
by him before 1836, it was suspended, after that date,

as inconsistent with the proper discharge of his obligation
to his leading topics. The same obstruction discouraged
the transfer of the main divisions of this science to
any other of the chairs; but, as we have seen, geology and
mineralogy became, in 1839–40, a part of the course in
natural philosophy. The Board of Visitors, however,
were fully aware of the need of the original school to
complete the required round of the academical department;
"but its introduction," they declared, "cannot be
advantageously effected without the establishment of a
separate professorship, accompanied by its appropriate
attributes,—a botanical garden and a museum of mineral
and geological collections. ... The Visitors are prevented
from carrying out these views by the want of sufficient
funds and by the existence of debts acquired for
more useful purposes."

In the beginning, the School of Moral Philosophy embraced
the subjects of ethics and metaphysics; but, in
1826, political economy was added to the chair; and in
1830, rhetoric and belles-lettres, which had previously
been taught in the School of Ancient Languages. During
the first half of the session, the junior class received
instruction in rhetoric, belles-lettres, and logic, and the
senior in mental philosophy; during the last half, the
junior class was occupied with belles-lettres and ethics,
and the senior with political economy. There were also
lessons in English composition; but they reached too
small a number to be of benefit to the entire body of the
students.