their regular salaries, which at that time varied from two hundred and fifty to three hundred and fifty pounds per annum, should be entitled to the tuition money of their respective schools, thus giving them a motive for exertion which could not but be productive of favourable results.
These results, however, were not immediate. There were yet some radical errors, the injurious influence of which, so long as they were allowed to remain, no industry nor talent in the teachers could wholly counteract. But by their late resolve the trustees had brought a principle into action, which never rests till all its purposes are accomplished. The interests of the professors having become identical with those of the seminary, there now existed, in the faculty of arts, a body of men watchful over its concerns, quick-sighted in detecting all the weak parts of its structure, sagacious in discovering remedies for present evils and sources of new vigour, and eager to bring their views into practical application. The board of trustees, which, though composed of some of the wisest and best men in the community, is naturally slow in the formation of opinions, and still slower in its decisions, was quickened by this spirit of its own creation into clearer views and more energetic action. The subsequent changes may therefore be said to have grown out of that first regulation, which, planted in the principles of our nature, could not but spring up into vigorous and fruitful increase.
The system of the seminary was fundamentally wrong. In the first place, the professors had no sufficient bond of union by which, in the business of instruction, their efforts might harmonize, and their strength operate to the greatest advantage by being exerted in one direction. With the exception of the professors of moral and natural philosophy, who divided the philosophical classes between them, each had his distinct school, which he managed at his own discre-
