distant, a quarry of freestone has recently been opened; nor must I forget to mention an abundance of pure water, two bold springs uniting their currents near by."

In those days when a fifteen mile drive to the postoffice in a farm wagon, fording streams on the way, was thought nothing of, Jubilee College might be said to be "easily accessible." Yet, even then, during the flood time of the Kickapoo, the bottom land was impassable except on horseback. The bishop once nearly lost his life in trying to reach his home after a visitation. As railroads became the common means of travel in the West, Jubilee was isolated, and its location was unfortunate for educational purposes. In "The Motto," June, 1851, the bishop gives an account of a flood almost surrounding the college, which carried away corn fields, fences, hay-stacks, and 30 or 40 acres of turnips. For several days the college was shut off from the world. Similar floods have since occured. There is no railroad station within six miles of Jubilee, nor is there prospect of any in the future.

Bishop Chase, even long past the age of sixty, was leading a very strenuous life. Too heavy to ride much on horseback, he was compelled to make long journeys over dangerous roads, by stage or in the old family coach. Several times he came near losing his life, suffering from exposure and accidents. Some one has declared that every bone in his body, except his head, had been broken; some of his ribs were broken several times. Along the rivers the way was somewhat easier by steamboat, yet speed was not always assured. Starting on Tuesday from St. Louis, by the steamboat America, the bishop arrived in Alton on Wednesday morning, twenty-two miles in eleven hours. Leaving the river at some point, he was taken with his luggage in a "dearborn" to Rushville. "But the roads, O the roads!" he writes. "For nearly a quarter of a mile the water had overflown the path about two feet, and this together with the deep mud below, rendered our progress almost impossible." On the Sunday following he consecrated the new church, confirmed two, baptzied five children, administered the communion to seven persons, and preached both morning and evening. "The night was spent in tossing to and fro, as usual after excessive fatigue." Going on to Sterling, he says the roads were exceedingly bad, "but the strength of our team and the blessing of God overcame all obstructions." The town consisted of about forty small houses. The bishop preached in the school house, "to get at which I had some difficulty, on account of the mud," and there was plenty of it on the floor inside. This was in March, 1837. The bishop frequently accepted the courtesy of Methodist and Presbyterian brethren, holding services and preaching in their churches, always taking the prayer book and instructing the people in its use. In hotel offices, stores, and even in a blacksmith's shop the bishop preached and baptized. He notes the prevalence of speculation and worldliness, a tendency to intemperance, coarseness, and profanity everywhere, and is deeply concerned for the future of a country which is opening under so many evil influences. "Infidelity and sin stalk fearlessly abroad wherever I travel," he says. "Our whole country seems to be forgetting God. In all their ways they

acknowledge not God, nor think that he exists, much less that he will bring them to an awful account for abused favors. My heart seems to sink within me as I contemplate the down-hill course of my dear country."

The bishop was taken ill at Oquawka, where in March he had to sleep on the floor in a very poor cabin, "the best lodging these affectionate people could give me." He pushed on to Monmouth and held two services. After spending several hours "in pious conversation" with the neighbors who dropped in after evening service, the bishop retired to a cold room and soon was "in great agony." By the aid of two physicians he was relieved, and two days after, in an open wagon, continued his homeward way, with more than sixty miles before him. It both snowed and rained. Spoon river was a raging torrent. The horses and wagon were driven through; the bishop followed in a canoe, a log of black walnut with the bark on, hollowed out in the middle. The canoe sank almost to filling, as it was pushed out into the stream with the bulky bishop amidship. "Can you swim?” shouted the man in the stern. "Like a duck," was the reply; "all I fear is, if she turns over I cannot extricate myself from my squeezed position on the log." With grateful hearts they reached the shore and mounted the muddy bank. There they satisfied their thirst from the overflowing of the clean troughs, filled with the fast droppings of the delicious sugar water. They were sheltered in a cabin during a stormy night, and pushed on over rapid streams, overflowed prairies, and muddy sloughs, the snow "blowing horizontally." All this time the bishop was a sick man. The greatest exposure and peril, however, he encountered almost in sight of Robinsnest, when he came to the Kickapoo, which he was assured could not be crossed, either by swimming or by a canoe. "But I must see my family," he declared. "I must be ministered to or perish." His passage through a part of the flood by wagon, and then over the stringers of a skeleton bridge, is an exciting story. "Never had I more reason for the blessing of a clear head and a firm faith in God's supporting hand." Praising God he got safely over.

These are only illustrative incidents in his laborious life. Whatever he found to do, he did it with all his might, on the farm, in his visitations, soliciting for his colleges, directing laborers, writing letters and "Reminiscences." Nothing was too great to be attempted, nothing so small as to be lightly regarded. He gratefully accepts from a friend a package of rutabaga (turnip) seed, and by good attention to planting secured a large crop of "that excellent vegetable.“

Bishop Chase had a vein of humor and of poetry in his soul. Some sheep which he bought with money paid to him by the stage company as damage for breaking his bones, he called his "ribs." He had scriptural names for his pastures, and the shepherd of his flocks carried the traditional crook. He called his family carriage "Noah's Ark." The names that he gave to places were striking and enduring. "Robinsnest" is certainly very pretty as well as humorous. His selection of sites for his homes and colleges showed a fine apprecia

tion of the beauty of nature. He could scarcely foresee the coming of an age when steam should count for more than aesthetics, in education as well as commerce.

In 1843, on the death of Bishop Griswold, Bishop Chase, as senior in consecration, became the presiding bishop of the American church. During the term of his primacy, fifteen bishops were consecrated; among them our first missionary bishop to foreign lands. To Bishop Chase came also the sad duty of pronouncing sentence of suspension upon two of his brother bishops.

For some years the bishop held the lands of the College in his own name, not being willing to secure incorporation under the conditions that had been imposed upon other institutions, viz, that no creed of any denomination whatever should be inculcated, and that the charter might be repealed. For this reason he suffered undeserved reproach and opposition. In 1844 a friend in the legislature secured a charter, but the bishop refused to accept it, on the ground that it would be a betrayal of his trust. It was so exceedingly liberal, he said, that it took the college out of the Church and placed it in the world. At a later session (Jan. 22, 1847) a charter was obtained, in every way satisfactory. Under this charter the bishop should nominate trustees; there should be a theological department and a college proper, an academy for boys, and a seminary for girls; the bishop of the Episcopal Church in Illinois should be ex-officio President; the number of trustees from four to eight, all communicants of the Episcopal Church; the trustees to have power of veto of the President's nominations, subject to appeal to the Convention of the Diocese; a report to be made every three years to the Convention, of the affairs of the institution and "the mode in which benefactions have been used."

By the provision of the Charter the trustees were to be nominated by the bishop "in his last will and testament, or otherwise." This arrangement insured to him personal control and security from interference as long as he lived. In view of his experience in Ohio he should not be blamed for protecting himself and his family in every way consistent with his duty and his high office; and at the same time the arrangement was doubtless for the best interest of the institution. This is evident from the fact that after his death, without his influence and administration, the income and patronage of the college were greatly reduced.

The trustees constituting the corporation at the death of the bishop were: Ex-officio, the Bishop of Illinois (Bishop Whitehouse, who had been assistant bishop for about a year): The Rev, E. B. Kellogg, the Rev. C. Dresser, the Rev. Samuel Chase, D. D., the Rev. Philander Chase, Messrs. John Pennington, William Wilkinson, and H. S. Chase.

In 1843 Bishop Chase wrote to his granddaughter Laura: “I think the reputation of the college is increasing. We have a good mathematical teacher and also a teacher of languages, besides the Rev. S. Chase, who is over the school and regulates the whole, hearing all the upper classes. Mary has charge of the female department, being a small number taught and boarded in the cottage. The build

of the west wing will go on as soon as the frost is out of the ground, which this year continues longer than was ever known before. The cold has killed more than one hundred of the college lambs."

The first formal "Commencement" was held on July 7th, 1847. Five students, "after a due course of study, by strict examination," were admitted to the bachelor's degree; a master's degree was also conferred. In the "Reminiscences" the occasion is thus described:

"Never was there a finer day, or more joyful occasion. Between seven and eight hundred persons assembled on the college hill, where so lately roamed the untutored native, and to which the wild deer, from habit, paid frequent visits, in great numbers. The college chapel was filled with devout worshippers, and when the divine services were over, all retired to the green arbor, two or three hundred yards off, under the deep shade of spreading trees looking down on the verdant lawns surrounding the chapel. Here the orations of the first class of students were delivered to a delighted and enlightened audience. Here the degrees were conferred, and here ascended the Christian prayer for a blessing from on high on the glorious work thus prosperously commenced. All expressed the highest gratification, and the day being far spent, and places of entertainment, for want of means, having been erected on the hill, all were invited to partake of a frugal repast, distributed at the expense of the college." Most of the students boarded in the houses provided for the college, and some with families in the neighborhood. The charges for board and tuition, at first were $100; this was afterwards raised to $120, and finally to $200. Some of the students worked for their board. The instructors were capable, and the course of study for that day was sufficiently extended. French and German, as well as the classical languages, were included.

The by-laws enacted by Bishop Chase, and in force for some years after, would scarcely suit the college boy of our day, though some of them might be good for him. The cigarette smoker would find his occupation gone if he were not allowed to carry any matches in his pocket. Indeed, there could be no use of tobacco in any form at Jubilee.

No games of chance, no cards or dice were allowed. Every student had to keep a bucket of water in his room, for fire protection. No one could leave the farm without a permit. Morning prayer was 6:30, and the tardy student lost his breakfast. There were 28 rules published. One of the instructors now living, Mr. Wm. Blenkiron, writes: "After 13 days of constant travel from New York City to Peoria, we walked from Peoria to Jubilee, February 14, 1852, (fifteen miles.) The ladies and the trunks were carried on the farm wagon. On the following day Dr. Chase took me to the bishop, and after a short interview Samuel was told to put this man to work. The Rev. Philander Chase (son of the bishop) had charge of the school room in the morning, and D. W. Dresser, a student, in the afternoon. There were about 50 pupils, from twelve to twenty years of age. All the