•:. °^yw. '"'^z^-' -^ ^^' > ^^ A' ' /:^-' <30 ^0°,.. " - '";\o^ s^ '.'',, "-^o ,<; .^^^ ' -1^ , • ~ ''^.,. * -. X •' N^-^'" '-' * ft s'" N -^ \^^ , .o ^^ <0 '^gt- ^ •V N C „ '-^ .\' =« ^ ^^,<^ * -. -^ ^ A^^ % '%>,c^ :^A-^^ Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2011 with funding from The Library of Congress http://www.archive.org/details/collegeadministr01thwi AMERICAN COLLEGES: THEIR STUDENTS AND WORK. WITHIN COLLEGE WALLS. THE COLLEGE WOMAN. THE AMERICAN COLLEGE IN AMERICAN LIFE. THE CHOICE OF A COLLEGE FOR A BOY. COLLEGE ADMINISTRATION. COLLEGE ADMINISTRATION COLLEGE ADMINISTRATION CHARLES Fr'THWING, LL.D. PRESIDENT OF WESTERN RESERVE UNIVERSITY AND ADELBERT COLLEGE NEW YORK ^be Century Co. 1900 49G06 I '^^ Cup.ti Recti ^ED ' SEP ,80 1900 Copynghf entry I stcoKP copy. I Ot;l(Wtf«J ta OftOt« DIVISION, L0CL9 I9UU No Copyright, 1900, by The Century Co. The DeVinne Press TO CHARLES W. ELIOT, LL.D., THE GREAT PRESIDENT PREFATORY NOTE This is, I think, the first book published on the administration of the American college. It grows out of my own reflection, work, experience, and reading. Many limitations, of course, rest upon it. It makes its special appeal, too, to a small constituency. But this constituency, although small, is of great influence in all funda- mental relations. Its subject, too, is of unique value in the endeavor to relate the American college and university more vitally to American life. C. F. T. Western Reserve University, Cleveland. I CONTENTS PAGE I Introduction: The Organization op Amer- ican Education 1 II The Constitution of the American College 21 III The College President 49 IV Special Conditions and Methods op Adminis- tration 85 V The Government op Students . . .113 VI Financial Relations 155 VII Administrative and Scholastic Problems op the Twentieth Century .... 261 Index 317 1 INTRODUCTION: THE ORGANIZATION OF AMERICAN EDUCATION I COLLEGE ADMINISTRATION I INTRODUCTION: THE ORGANIZATION OF AMERICAN EDUCATION EDUCATION in the United States is not so much disorganized as it is unorganized. It is not so much unorganized as it is the subject of cross and various organizations. It is in certain relations overorganized. The units of organiza- tion are many, diverse, and often cover identical conditions. The national unit is lacking, unless one should desire to call the Bureau of Education such a unit. Yet the designation would not be fitting, for the function of the Bureau is largely limited to the collection and distribution of in- formation. It has no power to enforce its sugges- tions, and its directions are largely suggestions. Each State is an educational unit. By its constitu- tion, or bill of rights or legislation, are determined the educational conditions and practices which ob- tain within its boundaries. In certain States the county plays a large educational part, but in other States, and especially in the older and Eastern, the county seldom exercises educational functions. I The Organisation of American Education Each town or municipality represents a third cen- ter in which the educational interests unite and whence they radiate. In each town or city, too, each school district represents a center ; and, also, each school and each room in each school stands for a point of information and of instruction. Such coordinated relationships obtain largely in the public-school system. By the side of them all are found the private school and academy, the col- lege, the university, and the professional school, each still deriving its corporate power and right of administration from the commonwealth. And yet, although these conditions seem simple enough, closer inspection reveals various cross- divisions and complex relations. We have high schools that do the work of grammar schools, and grammar schools that do the work of the first year of the high school. We have high schools that do a part, at least, of the work of colleges, and we have also colleges that are willing to do a part of the work properly belonging to the fitting-schools. We have colleges that in their last year are essentially pro- fessional schools, and we have also universities that have only one department, and that the college; and also be it added, we have universities that are rather schools preparatory to the college than col- leges or universities themselves. President Gilman has said : " Poor and feeble schools, sometimes in- tended for the destitute, beg support on the ground that they are universities. The name has been given to a school of arts and trades, to a school of modern languages, and to a school in which only 2 The Organisation of American Education primary studies are taught. Not only so, but many graduates of old and conservative institutions, if we may judge from recent writings, are at sea. There are those who think a university can be made by so christening it; others who suppose that the gift of a million is the only requisite ; it is often said that the establishment of four faculties constitutes a university ; there is a current notion that a college without a religion is a university; and another that a college without a curriculum is a university. I have even read in the newspapers the description of a building which ' will be, when finished, the finest university in the country ' ; and I know of a school for girls, the trustees of which not only have the power to confer all degrees, but may designate a board of lady managers possessing the same powers." (" University Problems," p. 85.) "We have polytechnic or scientific schools pur- posing to give a liberal education, and not a pro- fessional, and we have also colleges of liberal culture establishing technical courses. We have professional schools apart from any college or uni* versity, and we have them also as a part of a university. Such are some of the relations of an organization which might be called overorganized or badly organized, rather than unorganized. It might be said that the organization is such that it results in disorganization. But, bad as the organization or lack of organiza- tion of American schools may be, the lack of organ- ization in English schools is incomparably worse The beginning of the nineteenth century found 3 The Organisation of American Education elementary education in England absolutely with- out system. The course of the century has wit- nessed the introduction of various systems which have, in certain relations, kept pace with the im- provement and the moral elevation of the schools. But the close of the century still finds English education controlled and subjected to the evils of a lack of organization, and to all the other evils of manifold systems The established and the non- conformist, the board and the voluntary, the local and the national, the elementary and the secon- dary elements represent the educational condition and forces which are inextricably mingled and commingled. Compromise has been the rule of educational progress in England far more than in AmxCrica; and compromise has resulted, as is not unusual, in confusion. In Germany the opposite method has, on the whole, prevailed. In the present century the state, and the state alone, has been the controlling power in the education of the people. Before this century the church was the controlling force. To- day the power of the church in education is manifested through the state and through the universities, and not through the church's own methods. The university affords theological train- ing, and the university is in the power of the state, and the state therefore prescribes the course of re- ligious training in the schools. The rule of the state has resulted in uniformity. American education should have a center in which every purpose for its promotion may be local- 4 The Organisation of American Education ized, and from which every plan for its develop- ment may rise. This center is found in the being of the child himself. The child himself is the smallest unit in education, and he is also the great- est. The unit which may be suggested either by taxation or by partizanship, by the tenure of office of the teacher or by the splendor of the educational machinery, by geographical considerations or by similarity of intellectual conditions, is of no value whatsoever in comparison with the worth of the child. The only unit deserving of mention in com- parison with the worth of the child lies in the pur- pose of the promotion of knowledge. For the higher education is organized, and should be organized, not only for the human purpose of training humanity, but for the scholastic purpose of extending the bounds of knowledge. As one thinks of the organization of education about the student, several points, among many, become significant. The content of his study, the method of his study, the atmosphere of his study, and the personality of the teacher are of supreme and ultimate importance. But of them I shall write chiefly of the worth of the content of study and of the personality of the teacher. The content of the study of the student before the age of entering college must be largely descrip- tive and interpretative. This content relates to the acquisition of knowledge. This knowledge is sim- ply descriptive and interpretative of the facts of the material world and of life. Arithmetic, for instance, is simply interpretative of time, and geometry is 5 The Organisation of American Education an interpretation or description of space; gram- mar is a description of the way in which the best people talk; history is a description of what the world of men has done, and science is a description of the world of nature. This period of descrip- tion belongs to the acquisitive period of a student's career. It leads into, and in its higher ranges is touched by, the method of comparison. The col- lege is the means or the method of the comparative process and condition in education. Of course, the former method of description still thrusts its way into the field of comparative knowledge. The first year of the college is much like the last year of the high school or academy; the second year is less like it ; and in the last two years the method of comparison quite supplants the method of acquisi- tion of the earlier time. The comparative method is at once the deductive and the inductive method, and it is more than either deduction or induction. In the comparative stages of the college course the student relates truth to truth, fact to fact, not only in one or the same field, but also in different fields. Truths which once appeared as far apart as the poles now become closely and vitally associated. Geog- raphy, which once seemed to him a science apart from man, is now known to hold essential relations to history. Ethnography, which once seemed a study quite apart from geology, is seen to hold a relation of cause and effect to geology. Psychology and philosophy are seen to exist in intimate asso- ciation with the sciences of biology and of physics, and biology and physics are found to exist in close 6 The Organisation of American Education relations with psychology and philosophy. The different sciences themselves, too, prove to be in close relationship. Biology is closely related to chemistry. Chemistry, in turn, is found to be re- lated no less closely to geology. In the earlier stages of his education the student was concerned with facts; he is now concerned with relations. In the earlier stages he was concerned with acquisi- tion, with description, and with interpretation; in the later stages he is concerned primarily with comparisons. In the earlier stages the simple truth was primary and the relations of different truths secondary. In the later stages the relations of different truths is of primary, and the truth itself of secondary, value. But there is a third stage in the organization of American education about the student. This stage may be called that of research. The student be- comes himself a discoverer of the truth. The sec- ond stage of comparison passes into the third stage of enlargement. He himself is concerned not only with relations, but also with the discovery of rela- tions. He is concerned, as in the first stage, with the knowledge of facts, but he is also concerned, and more, with the discovery of facts for himself. This third stage belongs to the scholar par excel- lence. Into it only a few ultimately pass. Here are found those searchers for truth and for truths, few in number in any generation, but which, though few, are of the most essential value for the promotion of knowledge and for the better- ment of the nation and of humanity. 7 The Organisation of American Education When the student is able to perceive relations he may be said to be educated. The training up to this stage has been general. He is now fitted to enter upon his special education for rendering service to that form of humanity to which he proposes to devote himself. He has not become fitted for the ministry, but he has become fitted to begin to fit for the ministry. He has not become fitted for the law, but he has become fitted to fit for the law. He has not become fitted for medicine, he cannot practise the art of healing, but he has become fitted to fit himseK to become a doc- tor. The special professional study awaits him. The age at which the student is able to begin his professional studies or career is of serious impor- tance when one locates the unit of American edu- cation in the student himself. This age has been increasing. The age of graduating from college has gradually increased throughout the century. In 1856 the average age of admission to Harvard Col- lege was seventeen years seven and three six- teenths months. In 1866 it had increased to eighteen years two and five twelfths months, and in 1875 it had increased to eighteen years six and two thirds months. In the last ten years for , most colleges eighteen and a half years represents the average age at admission to the freshman class. (President Eliot's Report for 1874-75, p. 8.) The cause of this condition lies, in part, in the enlargement of the conditions for admission which the colleges are now laying down. These con- ditions have vastly enlarged both in the number The Organisation of American Education of the subjects prescribed and in the knowledge required of each subject. A more extended know- ledge of Latin and of Greek is demanded, and also at least an elementary knowledge of one or two modern languages and of the physical sciences. These conditions have been so increased that the high schools and academies have in thirty years lengthened their course from three years to four. In the same period has occurred a lengthening of the course of the medical college and of the law school, in the one case from two or three years to four and in the other from two years to three. The college is in danger of being ground to pieces between the under millstone of the preparatory school and the upper millstone of the professional school. In the organization of American education, there- fore, about the student, the question becomes of importance respecting the time in which the stu- dent ceases to be a student and becomes an active worker in American life. Various methods for securing the important result of an earlier en- trance into his career have been suggested. One of these methods is to make the last years of the college course, at least in part, an equivalent to the first years of the professional course. In certain cases the last year of the college course becomes practically identical with the first year of the pro- fessional course. In other cases certain studies are taken by the senior in college which are also taken by the first-year man in the professional school, and these studies are allowed to count The Organisation of American Education toward both the bachelor's degree and the profes- sional degree. By this method the student in the law school can receive his degree of Bachelor of Laws in six years, and the student in the medical college can receive his degree of Doctor of Medicine in seven years. This method obtains in several of the more historic and more conspicuous of our colleges. A few colleges, and good ones too, are intimating that the whole educational period may be shortened by yet an additional year, giving two degrees to the law student in five, and to the medi- cal student in six, years. It is to be said that a year in one's life and in one's professional career is of great value, and it is also to be said, and with emphasis, that a single year is not of value in com- parison with the value of one's professional service. It is far better to enrich the value of that service than to lengthen out the time of that, service by a few months. But in order to secure the purpose of an earlier entrance into his life's work for the college-bred man a better method than that of the duplication of a single year lies in the endeavor to save a year or two years in the earlier stages of education. A year is a year whether it be the seventh or the seventeenth. The battle for an earlier entrance into life is to be fought on the floor of the grammar and primary school-room. The question is how to get the student out of the grammar school earlier by a year or two years rather than how to get him sooner out of college. The simple fact is that the work of the eight years of the primary and grammar schools could still 10 The Organisation of American Education be done with ease in six years in the case of many- students. If the student enter the public schools at the age of six he should be able to enter the high school at the , age of twelve; if he enter the high school at the age of twelve, as he should, he should enter the college at the age of sixteen; if he should leave college at the age of twenty, at the age of twenty- three or twenty-four he should be and would be ready for life's career. As says Professor Greorge Trumbull Ladd, in writing of a modern liberal education : " The ten years from six to sixteen are enough, and more than enough, to prepare the average mind for the most exacting of our American colleges. But alas ! how much of this time is wasted, and worse than merely wasted, by the poor teaching that prevails in the interme- diate schools." (" The Higher Education," p. 135.) Such a reduction could be accomplished largely by lessening the attention paid to certain studies in the earlier grades. Chief among these is arith- metic. Arithmetic is an abstract science to chil- dren. The operations of arithmetic are to the child's mind arbitrary. To his mind these opera- tions have little of the rational. If the study of arithmetic could be deferred till the age of ten, and then only two years devoted to it, all that is necessary to be learned or to be done could be ac- complished with ease and efficiency. This saving of time not only in arithmetic, but also in other studies, could be effected by securing better- trained teachers. Teachers of good training ac- complish results vastly superior to those accom- II The Organisation of American Education plished by tlie ill-trained teacher, in a briefer time and with less taxing of the energies of the child. Aside from the question of the reduction of the age of the pupil, the securing of better-trained teachers represents the most serious problem in American education. That the teacher is becom- ing better trained is evident. In all the better high schools only those teachers who are college-bred are employed. The college-bred teachers also are entering the grammar schools and the primary. We ought to hasten the time when every teacher should be liberally trained. No discipline is too fine, no culture too rich, no resources are too ample, to be devoted to the education of the smallest child or the smallest collection of children. Professor Ladd, in writing of the fitting-schools, also says: "One thing greatly to be desired and striven after, as affording needed relief to the preparatory schools, is an improvement in the primary education. No one acquainted with the facts needs to be told how faulty is the knowledge of the most elementary subjects possessed by the average child of twelve or fourteen, whether he has been trained in a public or a private school. How blundering is his use, in speech, reading, or writing, of his mother-tongue ! With how little real notion of what our good planet is, in struc- ture and aspect, has he learned long lists of un- pronounceable names of mountains, rivers, and cities — not to say hamlets and villages ! For how many years has he struggled with the fundamental mysteries of number, and spent his time weari- 12 The Organi:{ation of American Education somely doing ' sums,' the like of which are not to be found in real life upon this earth, and, as we trust, not in the heavens above ! " (" The Higher Education," p. 61.) At this point enters the question of cost. Of course, good teaching costs, and ought to cost. The best teaching is yet the cheapest; and the poorest teaching is the highest. Humanity is learning that it is better economy to devote the larger share of its revenues to the education of children in the beginning of their lives rather than to expend it for the care of the criminal, the de- fective, and the pauper through a score of years. It is to be said, moreover, that the teacher is to receive a professional training. The professional education of the teacher is as important as the pro- fessional education of the lawyer or the doctor or the minister. American life is reaching this con- \ elusion. The opinion that all that is necessary for the teaching of any subject is to know that subject is still held by some great scholars and teachers, but it is obsolescent. As the professional educa- tion of the lawyer and of the doctor is a contribu- tion of the present century, so the professional education of the teacher is to be one of the worthi- est contributions of the new century to human affairs. But the professional education of the teacher differs in many respects from the profes- sional education of the lawyer or the doctor. The lawyer or the doctor or the minister becomes, through the professional school, trained in the knowledge of his subject. The lawyer learns law, 13 The Organisation of American Education the doctor learns medicine, and the minister learns theology. The professional training of the teacher is not the securing of the knowledge of his subject. This knowledge he already is supposed to possess. If he is to be trained to teach geometry or Latin or Grreek or French or philosophy, he is supposed to know geometry or Latin or Grreek or French or philosophy. His training as a teacher is a train- ing in the methods of teaching. In order to train him to present geometry properly to a class, he is supposed to know geometry before he enters into the professional school to get a training to teach geometry. At this point, it may be added, the current prejudice against normal schools has its origin, for the normal school has tried to teach both the content of knowledge and the method of teaching that knowledge. The normal school has tried to make at once scholars and teachers. In certain cases the normal school, receiving students ill instructed, has not tried to teach the subject, but, dealing with the student as if he knew the subject when he did not, and trying to train him in the method of teaching a subject of which he knew nothing, the normal school has added to ignorance confusion and to confusion distress ! As education improves, and as society develops, we are to see the department of education in the college enlarge. For this department will receive only those who possess the content of the knowledge of the various subjects which they are to teach and who come to this department in order to receive sim- ply a better professional and technical equipment. 14 The Organisation of American Education Both in the college and out of the college, it is to be remembered that far more important than technical training is professional knowledge, and more important than professional knowledge is general education, and more important than gen- eral education is personality. Most educational directors, in search of a grammar-school teacher, would prefer to accept the college graduate without the technical training of the normal school than to take a high- school graduate who has had the normal-school course. And it is also true that most educational directors would prefer to receive as a teacher one who has or is a great character, who has or is a great spirit, untouched by the train- ing of the college, than to receive one whose powers are commonplace, even if endowed with the advan- tages of a college training. The higher education, as well as the lower, is to be organized about the unit of the individual stu- dent. To equip him for life is the supreme pur- pose. In this adjustment of American education about the student there are developing three types , of the American college. One of these is the college that depends upon the church for support ; another is that which depends upon the individual or the general community for support ; and the third type is that which depends upon the State for support. The first type is the ordinary denominational col- lege. The second type is the large and common college, such as Columbia or Harvard. The third type is that of the ordinary State university. The second of these types is Christian, but it is 15 The Organisation of American Education not denominational. It leans upon the commu- nity, but not upon the commonwealth. These three types are not, however, as distinct as might at first thought appear. The denominational col- lege often holds intimate relations to individuals outside of a particular church, and also, for more than two hundred years, the denominational college has drawn aid from the commonwealth. Colleges, too, which rest upon the unorganized community or upon individuals have received aid from the State. Cornell has been, and is, the recipient of large revenues from the State of New York. Colleges, too, which are an integral part of the public educa- tion of the State, have been aided to a greater or less extent by individuals. Michigan has received funds from private sources, and a few years ago the University of Minnesota received a gift which was used in the erection of a building bearing the name of a benefactor, Pillsbury Hall. Each of these types and methods has its advan- tages. The denominational college represents the intimacy of the relation existing between re- ligion and learning, a relation historic and vital. The individual college stands for independence, a most precious condition for the promotion of scholarship and for the development of char- acter. The State college or State university em- bodies the idea that the whole body of the people is concerned in the securing of a sufiicient number of well-trained citizens to insure the efficiency and perpetuity of the State. No one type need fully exclude the others, and the three are found co- i6 The Organisation of American Education existing in not a few of the commonwealths. It may be said that these types are only forms of what we call the "American university" as the American university itself is one of the several types of the university. For the English univer- sity is unlike the Scotch, the Scotch is unlike the German, the German is unlike the French, and each of them is unlike the American. 17 JM II THE CONSTITUTION OF THE AMERICAN COLLEGE II THE CONSTITUTION OF THE AMERICAN COLLEGE THE organization of the American college is simple. In most States the organization is ' made under the general law applying to incorpo- rated societies. The essential part of the organiza- tion is the legal body which usually calls itself ' Trustees. The body which is usually called the Faculty has to do with giving instruction and per- forming the work for doing which the college was created. In association with the legal body is sometimes found a second one, frequently known as the Board of Overseers; but the institutions having this second body are few. The Board of Trust and the Faculty are the two bodies to which is generally committed the administration of the college. The Board of Trust is usually, though not always, a close corporation. Its members : choose their own successors. When it is not a close corporation, elections to it are made, as a rule, wholly or largely by the graduates of the col- lege. If the college, however, is denominational, and has intimate affiliations with a church of a 21 The ConsUtution of the American College rather strict form of government, tlie church itself not infrequently chooses or nominates certain mem- bers for this Board. This intimacy of ecclesiastical relationship is found more frequently in the Episco- pal and Presbyterian and Methodist communions. The members of the Board of Trust are seldom less than seven nor more than twenty- five. The duties of this Board relate to the care of the property put into its keeping, and also to the giving of legal \ value to the acts of the Faculty. The Board of f Trust confers degrees ; it fixes salaries ; it deter- I mines the budget of each year ; it holds and con- trols all investments. The nature of the duties that belong to this Board of Trust vary, of course, somewhat in different colleges. It may be said that usually their authority is supreme, yet this authority they seldom see fit to use arbitrarily. Their decision is ultimate, yet usually they trust the Faculty. In its last analysis the management I of a college rests absolutely in the Board of Trust. To this Board the Faculty and students are re- sponsible. Though the function of the Board of Trust is thus definitive, yet it is to the second body that the fulfilment of the great purposes for which a college exists is committed. To the members j of the Faculty the work of instruction is, of course, I given. The duty of discipline is theirs. The proper ordering of the various relations of the students belongs to them. All that makes up the daily routine of the college represents their constant and immediate responsibility. To their 22 The Constitution of the American College college work they give themselves. College service represents their profession. The Faculty in certain colleges includes all those who give instruction. In other colleges it includes only those who are chosen to permanent chairs, excluding those whose ap- pointments are for a year or for a term of years. The members are chosen to this body under a great variety of conditions. The methods of choosing represent so important a part of college order, and are so diverse, that I shall indicate what methods do control in various colleges. The statement descriptive of the method is usually made by the President of the college. In Yale University : " In the matter of the ap- pointment of professors, our custom— not our writ- ten law, but our long-established custom— is that the Faculty of the departments (scientific, theo- logical, or whatever department of the university) in which the new professor is to act nominates him to the Corporation, and the Corporation ap- points him to the office. They may, of course, decline to appoint him if they see fit. The matter of nomination is in the hands of the Faculty, the ! matter of election is in the hands of the Corpora- tion. In most of our New England colleges the whole power of nomination is in the hands of the President ; he may not consult the Faculty at all. It is not so with us." In Williams College : " When we are selecting a new member of our Faculty, if it is a professor we want, I consult with men interested in the same \ department, and mention a name and act with 23 The Constitution of the American College their approbation. If it is an instructor we want, I generally do the same." In Dartmouth College : " In securing a new mem- ber of the Faculty, the President advises with the department concerned, and then puts the matter before the Committee on Instruction in the Board of Trustees. The Trustees vote upon the recom- mendation of this Committee." In Brown University : " The President nominates the candidate or suggests several ; then the Advisory and Executive Committee discuss the merits of the candidates, one or more, and vote to recommend to the Corporation. This is equivalent to an election, as the Board never rejects a nomination thus made." In Columbia College : " Ordinarily the President ) takes the initiative in securing a new member of any of our faculties. I am," says President Low, "in the habit of conferring freely with all those more directly interested in the appointment to be made, so as to be sure that the person called shall be persona grata. When I am satisfied that I am on the track of the right man, I try to ascertain whether he would accept such a call as I have in mind. I always seek a personal interview, if pos- sible, as I am reluctant to have any man appointed to any position in connection with the university whom I have not looked in the face. Of course, I never seek a personal interview until after a very careful inquiry. When I am satisfied upon all the , points involved, I submit a nomination to the Trustees, who act upon it with or without refer- ence to the Committee on Education as the case 24 The Constitution of the American College may demand. I often confer informally with the members of the Committee on Education of the Trustees, so that when the matter comes before the Trustees they are able to confirm the state- ments of the President, and to express their opin- ion without delay. There is no law governing these matters, but this, as a matter of fact, is my own method of procedure, which has thus far proved acceptable both to the Trustees and to the members of our faculties." In Johns Hopkins University : " Appointments f to the Faculty are made by the Trustees, who are largely influenced by the recommendations of the President, and he is influenced in turn by the wishes and recommendations of those in the Fac- ulty who are most capable of advising him, espe- cially by the members of the Academic Council." In the University of Pennsylvania : " The selec- r tion of new members of any Faculty is entirely in \ the hands of the Board of Trustees, who act primarily through their Committee upon the proper department. This Committee carefully inquires after available candidates, giving great weight, of course, to any recommendations re- ceived from the Faculty, and in due time makes a nomination to the Board, which is almost always followed by an election. No professor can be elected at the meeting at which he is nominated. Notice must be sent to every trustee, and a ma- jority of the Board must be present at the elec- tion." In Western Reserve University and Adelbert 25 The Constitution of the American College College the Faculty nominates and the Trustees confirm. The work of investigation is done by a Committee appointed by the Faculty, and upon its recommendation the nomination is made. The nomination is then submitted to a standing Com- mittee of the Trustees ; this Committee usually in- vestigates and passes on the nomination to the Board of Trust. The President is in constant consultation with each of these committees and they with him. In the University of Chicago: "When it is de- cided to make an appointment, the professor in the department and the President both take the matter in hand, the professor being careful in every case not to commit the university in any way. The matter is finally decided upon by the President and the head of the department interested, and the nomination is made by the President to the Board of Trustees. A by-law of the Board of Trustees provides that all nominations shall be made by the President. It is, of course, possible for me," says the writer. President Harper, " to make nomina- tions regardless of the wishes of the members of the department, but it would hardly be thought wise to do this except in special circumstances." In the University of Illinois: "We follow no particular method in securing a new member of our Faculty. We keep a file of all applications for positions, and when a vacancy occurs we examine the pile — and it is a large one. Sometimes we write to the older universities, and sometimes we communicate with teachers' agencies. In one way 26 The Constitution of the American College or another, we ordinarily find the right person in due time." In the University of Wisconsin: "Members of the Faculty here are appointed by the Board of Regents on the recommendation of the President. According to the prevailing public opinion in this place, no other method would be encouraged. Neither the Eegents nor the Faculty desire that anybody should be appointed excepting on the nomination of the President; and ordinarily the nomination of the President receives the unques- tioning ratification of the Board of Regents." In the University of Kansas : " Whenever a va- cancy occurs in any department, the head of that department and myself [the Chancellor] are ap- pointed to select a person to fill said vacancy. G-enerally the head of the department seeks candi- dates from such schools as he knows best fit men for his work." In the University of Nebraska: "A Committee consisting of the Chancellor and the Deans of the colleges look over the ground and determine who shall be recommended to the Board. The Board of Regents acts after this recommendation, though not necessarily upon it. I mean," says the Chan- cellor, " by this that they do not take original juris- diction in the case, and are not necessarily bound to follow the suggestion of the Committee if they know good cause to the contrary. Of course, prac- tically the Board formally elects whoever is se- lected by the Committee." In the University of Minnesota: "Candidates 27 The Constitution of the American College for professorships and assistant professorships are considered by the permanent officers, — that is, professors as distinguished from instructors, — and, if approved, the President nominates them to the Board of Eegents, and the Board elects. Of course the Board of Eegents can elect without con- sulting the Faculty." In the University of California : " We find a pro- fessor by seeking advice from men best qualified to judge in the particular lines of work. Some- times a head of an institution, like President Gril- man, is asked for a nomination from his graduates, and he turns over the question to the department expert." These examples indicate that there are two pre- vailing methods, which, however, in case all condi- tions are favorable, do not seriously differ in the results brought forth. There is the democratic method, in which the Faculty takes the initiative and does the larger part of the work in finding a new member for itself. There is also what may be called the monarchical method, in which i the President takes the initiative, in which he may, with or without conferring with his asso- ciates of the Faculty, cause an election to be made by the Board of Trust. But both of these methods usually bring forth the same result in case there is harmony of relationship between the various ex- ecutive departments. A college Faculty would sel- dom be willing to call a new member into itself without the express approval of the President. It is also true that no worthy President should be 28 The Constitution of the American College willing to bear a nomination to the Board of Trust without the approval of the Faculty. Between these two methods it cannot, to myf mind, be for one moment doubted but that the[ democratic is superior. A Faculty should have the right of determining who are to be members of that Faculty. If self-government is at all to be pur- sued, no better illustration of the principle can be found than in the organization of a college Faculty. This method also tends to illustrate the principle that in a multitude of counselors there may be not only safety but also great efficiency. This method also tends to promote a sense of individual responsibility which it is well for each member who works in a college to possess. It awakens enthusiasm and maintains enthusiasm. I am in- clined to assent to the opinion of ex-President Dwight of Yale College, expressed in a letter to me, that college presidents usually have too much power. It is difficult to approve of the wisdom of a man, a college President, who, as soon as he was installed, had only one request to make of the Trustees, and that was that he alone should have the right of nomination to the Board. It is only either a high degree of self-confidence which could lead a man to ask that this right be reserved to himself, or an exceeding low degree of confidence in a Faculty. In the administration of the American college the Board of Trust and the Faculty may in cer- ' tain ways be considered two coordinate bodies, for they work with each other in the bringing 29 The Constitution of the American College forth of certain collegiate results. In another sense the Trustees are superior to the Faculty, for they have absolute power to create or remove, to approve, to confirm, or to qualify. In another sense the Faculty is superior to the Board of Trust, for the Faculty represents the working force of the college, which immediately and constantly performs the duties to promote which the college exists. It is of extreme importance that these two bodies, whether they be regarded as coordinate or as in- ferior and superior on either side, should be thor- oughly harmonious. Any invasion, on the part of the one, upon the territory that belongs to the other results in inefficiency in the college itself. If, for instance, the Board of Trust invades the territory of the Faculty, even to lay down the rules of the daily life and conduct of students, or respecting the method and content of instruction, they usually find that they are dealing with conditions and methods which require the mind and hand of edu- cational experts ; and, as a rule, Trustees are not experts in matters of education. The tendency of the legal body to interfere with the teaching body is forcibly indicated by the late President Porter in writing of the ideal of the American university. He is discussing certain disadvantages of a State university, and among them he notes the tendency for the Regents to interfere with the relations which belong to the Faculty. But what he says does in certain ways have a broad reference : However carefully the boards of management are re- moved from direct interference on the part of political or I The Constitution of the American College popular leaders, the Regents of a State university can never be wholly removed from public and private de- mands and remonstrances on the part of men who have the ear of the people for the hour. Places will be sought for by unworthy aspirants and their friends ; the teach- ings of the university will be called in question on every point where they bear upon current questions of science, or religion, or finance, or health, or education. Whatever theory of culture the university may adopt wUl now and then be assailed by an organization of honest or dishonest demagogues, either educational or political. A great university must be the growth of time, dur- ing which a commonwealth of seekers after knowledge shall have been trained by one another, and shall have learned to accept common principles, to adopt common aims, and to share in a culture that has been warmed and made effective by active personal sympathy. To success in such a growth, independence is the prime and indis- pensable condition. The principles may be defective, the training may be defective, isolation and seclusion may confirm prejudices, but with independence there can be strength and continuity, while without it there can be neither. A State university with no chartered privileges can never in the best sense be a society that perpetuates itself, but must have a precarious and therefore an uncer- tain life. To expect for a State or a National University stability or independence in such a country as ours is to hope against reason and experience.^ The same result in kind and the same method also are seen in other forms of the public system of education. The evil to which President Porter alludes is far more common in the grammar and 1 Porter, "American Colleges and the American Public," pp. 389, 390. 31 The Constitution of the American College high schools than in the case of the State uni- versity. School boards are inclined to invade the province of school superintendents. But it is to be said, and with joy, that the ten- dency of the administrators in public education or in college education to encroach upon the territory of the teachers and of a Faculty is rapidly dimin- ishing. That administrator is the wisest who does his own business and makes no attempt to do the business which belongs to a teacher. Experience, too, is proving that we can in this country expect both stability and independence in a State uni- versity. The words written by the late President of Yale are not so true now as they were at the time of their writing, a score of years ago. On the other hand, a college Faculty may arrogate to itself duties which belong to the legal Board. It may lay out plans of work or enter upon their execu- tion, which call for expenditures of money without consultation with the Board of Trust, which is con- cerned with financial relations. But, on the whole, a Faculty is far less inclined to invade the territory of the Trustees than Trustees are to invade the territory of the Faculty. It is to be said that Trustees are not usually so jealous of their rights as to be inclined to limit the aggressive tendencies of their professors, if only they have money enough to meet all charges which are the result of these tendencies. In not a few cases the Trustees are inclined to commit what would seem to be a part of their own work in a large degree to the Faculty. Certain boards are accustomed to ask the Faculty 32 The ConstittLtion of the American College to determine the salaries of its own members. A gross sum, for instance, is put into the hand of the Faculty to use as its members see fit. This method is somewhat akin to the method formerly pursued in many medical colleges, in which the Faculty retained all fees paid by the students, and used the amount according to the dictates of their own wisdom. The endowment of medical col- leges is less than the endowment of any other order of professional schools, and therefore the Trustees, having no income from the investments to pay over to the members of the Faculty, and knowing that whatever income the members of the Faculty receive from instruction belongs, in a peculiar sense, to those who earn it, are more inclined to disclaim the assuming of financial rela- tionships. But when endowments become large, and the income received from these endowments represents the larger share of the sum to be paid to the professors. Trustees are inclined to main- tain their financial relationships, as, of course, they ought. The committing of the financial re- sponsibility to a Faculty has advantages in case of poverty, or in case of a lessening income. Professors are more willing to accept of small or of smaller salaries on their own nomination than as a result of the imposition of an outside author- ity. But the point can hardly be too strongly made that college faculties are not usually best fitted to administer funds. Without doubt that method of college government is the best in which each of these two bodies, the 3 33 The Canstitution of the American College corporate and the teaching, keeps itself to its own field, but with full respect for the field of the other. Or, perhaps, to change the figure, that method is the best in which these two bodies constantly and heart- ily and efficiently cooperate. This result is secured far less through any formal statute than by put- ting first-rate men jnto the Board of Trust and into the Faculty. It is to be noticed that, in the his- tory of the American colleges, upon both of these bodies clergymen have had a very large place. The representation of clergymen is becoming smaller with each passing year. In the early time the government of Harvard College was committed to them; at the present time they have no pro- fessional rights. President Porter has argued that the duties and responsibilities of the management of our colleges must still continue to be committed to clergymen. It is worth while to quote at length what he has to say : In the first place, most of the colleges have originated in the most thankless and self-sacrificing services. To services of this kind clergymen are consecrated by the vows and the spirit of their profession. The labor, self- denial, and disinterested toil which have been required to lay the foundations and rear the superstructure of the most successful colleges of this country cannot be too easily estimated. To a very large extent these have been endured and rendered by clergymen. The care, inquiry, invention, and correspondence, the personal toil and sacrifice, which devolve upon those who act as Trustees of an infant and often of a well-estabhshed college, are such that few persons except clergymen are willing to 34 The Constitution of the American College undertake them. Clergymen may not always be good men of business, but they generally know who are such, and have generally the good sense and feeling to ask the advice and to defer to the decisions of those who are, which is more than can always be said of laymen who are called to duties and trusts to which they are not compe- tent. Hence, with the best intentions and with far greater experience in affairs generally, laymen may fail where clergymen succeed. As to defect of tact or power of adaptation, especially in the management of men, an excess of tact has not unfrequently been charged upon the clergy. Clerical art and finesse have in not a few cases become proverbial as grounds of reproach. Clergymen are far more commonly interested in matters of education than laymen, by reason of a certain breadth of culture and generosity of disposition which are the results of Christian science. Though the idola tribus may exact from them a devotion which is sometimes narrow and exclusive, yet their profession is, from its very nature, as we have shown, the most liberalizing of all, from the common relation it involves to other branches of know- ledge and from the habit of seeking for the foundations of truth which the study of God and religion induces. It is but the simple truth to say that there is many a country clergyman, whose income is counted by hundreds where that of his classmate lawyer and judge is counted by thousands, who knows incalculably more of science as such, and of the way to learn and to teach it, than the aforesaid judge or lawyer whose reputation is the very highest in his profession. The professional studies of the clergyman do also very emphatically involve and cultivate a sympathy with literature of all kinds. The practice of composition and of public speaking upon elevated themes, involves more or less interest in the study of language and in works of imaginative literature. 35 The Constitution of the American College The clergy as sucli have, at least in this country, a more pronounced and catholic literary taste than the members of any other profession. They constitute, indeed, to a very- large extent, the literary class— the class that furnishes most frequently public addresses, essays, reviews, and pamphlets. Educated lawyers, physicians, and merchants write very little in comparison with them, and are much less frequently readers beyond the range of their own profession. The reason why clergymen are so generally selected as professors and teachers in colleges, is twofold : first, that the men best qualified by special culture are often er found in the clerical profession ; and, second, that the profession of teaching is akin to that of the clergj^man in the smallness of its pay and the unselfish patience which it involves. At the same time it is not usually true, so far as we have observed, that there is not a sufficiently large number of laymen in the faculties and boards of trust to correct the one-sidedness and to supplement the defects of their clerical colleagues. "We have never ob served that there was in such boards any jealousy of lay cooperation, any disposition to foster a clerical spirit or any one-sided results from clerical supervision. The cloistered, scholastic, and pedantic influences of the col- lege which are sometimes complained of, so far as there are any, usually proceed from lay professors who have never known anything but a scholar's life. The dodores umhratiles of the American colleges are not infrequently laymen.i But it must be said that the history of American colleges since these paragraphs were written, more than a score of years ago, has weakened the force 1 Porter, "American Colleges and the American Public," pp. 240-242. 36 The ConstiMion of the American College of their reasoning. The place occupied by the clergyman as an officer in American education has steadily narrowed. The lawyer and the business man are coming to have as important a place on the Board of Trust as clergymen. The questions which a lawyer is especially fitted to consider, pre- sented to a Board of Trust, rapidly increase. The questions, too, of general relationship which a merchant is fitted to consider also rapidly increase. The questions which may with special propriety come within the domain of a clergyman's consider- ation and position do not at all increase. It is also to be said that the custom of calling ministers into a Faculty on the ground that they are ministers is very rapidly passing away. It can hardly pass away too rapidly. Men of as pure character, and as influential in forming pure character in young men, can be found outside of the clerical calling. Men, also, of wide learning, of expert scholarship, are to be found without as well as within this voca- tion. The college demands men who have had special training for teaching the subjects in which they offer instruction. The day of the clergyman, active as a clergyman, in the management of the American college is passing away. All that the clergyman represents as a Christian, as a moralist, as a scholar, as a philanthropist, of course, has not passed and cannot pass away. Perhaps one of the most important influences which a Board of Trust can render to a college or to a Faculty is represented in what may be called its steadying power. Crises in college life some- 31 The Constitution of the American College times occur. Rebellions of the students are not un- known, though happily they are far less known now than they were in the times of thekfathers. Strained relations between students and teachers also occa- sionally exist. Divisions between different mem- bers or different sets of members of a Faculty sometimes occur. Such unhappy conditions the Board of Trust, being remote from the immediate turmoil, is better fitted to consider, and to give a judgment based upon facts without prejudice. Trustees are best fitted to serve as both judge and jury. They steady the trembling collegiate struc- ture. It has sometimes been proposed to make the Faculty the legal and governing body of a college. This method still maintains in English univer- sities. The method has been attempted on these shores. About the year 1721 an endeavor was made to turn out the non-resident fellows of Harvard College, and to fill their places by the professors. A long and serious quarrel resulted. About one hundred years afterward a similar attempt was made, and among those who were in favor of the change were Edward Everett, Andrews Norton, and Henry Ware. But this at- tempt also did not carry. It seems pretty clear that this method of government of a college by its pro- fessors would tend to create dissension and division. Under an ideal condition of human nature, and under an ideal system in the relations of men, this method would be the best. But too great intimacy of relations may promote disorder and bickering. ^! The usual method of constitutional government of 38 The Constitution of the American College two bodies seems the best metliod of college gov- / ernment. In every college is found what is known as an association of the alumni. This association is fre- quently, though not always, an incorporate body. It is a society of the graduates, formed for keep- ing its members in close touch with the college after they have left its walls, and also for giving such aid to the college as it may be able. This association may prove, and usually does prove, of the utmost worth to a college. No society of men can have a greater interest in a college than its own sons. It is to them an alma mater. The name suggests rather the devotion of sons than the in- difference of the supporters of the institution in which they may have passed, willingly or unwill- ingly, several years. In certain colleges this asso- ciation has a representation on the Board of Trust. Ex-President D wight of Yale University says: *'We have one Board, consisting of eighteen members — the President, ten clerical members, six alumni members, and the Governor of the State ex officio. The clerical members hold office 'during good behavior' — that is, for life. They elect their own successors. They, with the President, are the successors of the Board constituted by the old charter of the institution. The alumni members are graduates elected by the graduates for six years — one going out of office every year, but eligible to reelection." President Carter of Williams College writes: "We have five Trustees elected by our alumni, one of whom is elected every year." 39 \sk»a?l£^!C^'-- The Constitution of the American College President Tucker of Dartmouth College says: "Our Board of Trustees is made up of twelve members — the Governor of the State, the Presi- dent of the college, who, however, must be elected to the Board, and ten other members, five of whom are nominated by the alumni. Nomination of these members is made for five years, one member retiring at the end of that term of service and another nominated in his place. The permanent members of the Board, in case of a vacancy, are selected by conference." What I have had to say in reference to the elec- tions of the Board of Trust refers to colleges of the more ordinary type. It has not had special refer- ence to State universities. The methods of election of the boards of trust of the State universities varies in different States. The following represent some of the more important : University of Pennsylvania: "Nominations are made by any trustee, and these are considered confidentially by the Board, freely discussed by the members, and only the result finally announced. As the position is one for life, and the association of the Trustees a very close and friendly one, the greatest care and discrimination are used in selecting a proper person." University of Illinois : " The members of our Board of Trustees are elected upon a State ticket, three being elected each second year." University of Wisconsin : " Our Board of Regents is appointed by the Governor, each regent for three years. There are as many Regents as con- 40 The Constitution of the American College gressional districts— one from eacli, and two at large. The Board, therefore, changes gradually, and is made up ordinarily of the best men the Governor can find." University of Nebraska: "Our Regents are elected by the people at general- elections." University of Minnesota: "Members of the Board of Regents are appointed by the Governor of the State, and confirmed by the Senate. As a matter of courtesy and wisdom, the Governor usually consults with the Regents as to who would be desirable." University of California: "Our Regents are nominated by the Governor of the State, and con- firmed by the State Senate. They hold office for sixteen years, and two go out every year. We have also seven ex officio Regents— Governor, Lieu- tenant-Governor, Speaker of Assembly, President of the Agricultural Society, President of the Me- chanical Institute, Superintendent of Public In- struction, President of the university. It is too large a Board." In other colleges, in which there is what may be called the second body, usually known as Over- seers, its members are elected from those who are members of the alumni association. Such is the case at Harvard. The American college cannot do ' too much to foster an intimacy of relationship be- tween herself and her graduates. She loves them as her sons, she glories in them as those to whom she has given her life. No association between an in- stitution and those who have received its benefits 41 The ConstiMion oj the American College is so intimate, or should be so intimate, is so lov- ing and so loyal, as that which is found uniting a college and its graduates. The fondness of a col- lege man for his college and the fondness of a college for its graduates, based upon a relation covering only four years, is absolutely unique among human relationships. It is not to be questioned that the ordinary method of the organization of American colleges is the wisest. The Board of Trustees and the Faculty are sufficient. A Board of Overseers in addition to a Board of Trust is usually superfluous. In case a Board of Overseers exists, the Board of Trust is generally small. It is necessary to have a small body of some sort in the government of a college which can be called together easily and often. But such a convocation can be had by ap- pointing a committee from members of the Board for administrative or executive purposes. To this body may be delegated sufficient power for doing the necessary business which should be done be- tween the quarter- or semi-annual or annual meet- ings of the full Board. It is also plain that in this Board of Trust is afforded an opportunity for the representation of the alumni of the college. It is useless to multiply boards in the organization of a college beyond those which are absolutely neces- sary for doing the business of the college. It is absolutely useless to have more machinery than one needs for getting the product which he wishes to get. There is also an objection to multiplying boards 42 The Constitution of the American College lying in the fact that the college as an organ of scholarship and training is inclined to conserva- tism. The college should be conservative, but a college may easily become too conservative. Most f colleges are altogether too conservative. Let there be safety; let there not be stagnation. It is much more difficult to overcome this tendency toward conservatism with three boards than with two. Two boards, also, are usually sufficient for the limiting of measures and of means which are too aggressive. Undoubtedly the government of the two great universities of England has tended strongly to- ward conservatism. It has been found very diffi- cult to make reforms in these two universities. The universities have, on the whole, been most remote of great English institutions from the influence of progressive public sentiment. One cause of this, in my opinion, is that the government of, for instance, Oxford University, is so complex and elaborate. Convocation, Congregation, and Heb- domadal Council represent societies each of which is in its constitution conservative, and all of which, united in an administrative agent, represent con- servatism of the extreme type. For instance, the Hebdomadal Council alone has power to initiate legislation. If this Council proposes a new statute, it has to be promulgated in the Congregation, which may either reject or adopt or amend it. If the Congregation approve of a statute, it is in turn submitted to Convocation, which may either adopt or reject, but cannot amend. Progress under such A3 The Constitution of the American College legislative conditions is exceedingly slow and diffi- cult. When this government of the University of Oxford becomes related to the government of the colleges which make up the university, it is at once seen that any improvement in educational methods or advance in educational measures has to make its way in the face of many difficulties and objec- tions. "For," as says "a Mere Don," "plant a custom and it will flourish, defying statutes and Royal Commissions. Conservatism is in the air ; even convinced Radicals (in politics) cannot escape from it, and are sometimes Tories in matters re- lating to their university. They will change the constitution of the realm, but will not stand any tampering with the Hebdomadal Council. What- ever be the reason— whether it be environment or heredity — universities go on doing the same things, only in different ways; they retain that indefinable habit of thought which seems to cling to old gray walls and the shade of ancient elms." i The organization of the American college is not typed so closely upon the organization of the Eng- lish as the close historical association of the two countries would warrant one in presuming. The two common English types — the college, which is a private corporation consisting of a head with Fellows and scholars, and which is governed by the head and the Fellows, and the second type, the university, which is supposed to be composed of its graduates and students, and which is governed 1 "Aspects of Modern Oxford," by a Mere Don, pp. 122, 123. London, Seeley & Co., 1894. 44 The ConstiUUion of the American College by its graduates — do not exactly reappear in America. Neither, on the other hand, does the German university method prevail. The German university is not only founded, but it is main- tained, by the state. The state confers degrees and establishes statutes. It founds all fellow- ships, and the holders of fellowships are officials of the state. The universities are under the con- trol of the minister of education, and are not subject to provincial authority. Yet, while the university is thus incorporated into the state, it enjoys a degree of independence possessed by no other state institution. The faculties, too, have in a large de- gree the right of self-government, and they have the supervision of a student in respect to his con- duct and studies. They even go so far as to pro- pose to the minister of education candidates to fill vacancies and professorships. Above all else, they exercise their right to freedom in teaching. Al- though recently attempts have been made to limit this freedom, yet it is to be said in general that never has the German university been more free than in the years of the nineteenth century to offer what instruction and under what conditions it saw fit. In the early part of the century there was governmental interference in behalf of the Hegelian philosophy. In 1840 there was interference against the same philosophy. Within the last two years limitations respecting the teaching of certain economic or social theories have been made. But in general absolute freedom prevails. This free- dom is akin to the freedom which a Board of Trust 45 The Constitution of the American College is accustomed to grant to the Faculty of an Ameri- can college in respect to all of its arrangements regarding instruction. The influence of the higher schools of France has never been so strong upon the American education as the influence of the universities of England or of Germany. In the time of the greatest intimacy between France and this country the American nation was not founding colleges, and the uniting of all universities into the University of France has not seemed to embody an educational method worthy of adoption. The French method repre- sents the extreme point of centralization, and the American represents, possibly, the extreme of diffusion. The present method in France and the present method in America have few points of relationship. In the American college the Faculty and the Board of Trust find a common meeting- point in the person and work of that officer who is called President. 46 Ill THE COLLEGE PRESIDENT ^^ Ill THE COLLEGE PRESIDENT THE American college lias developed three types of tlie college President. The earliest was the clerical, the second the scholastic, and the third was, and is, the executive type. The first type began with Dunster, the first President of Harvard, and continued at Harvard down to Quincy, the first President within a hundred years, and the first but one of the entire period of the college, down to his own time, who was not a clergyman. This type also still prevails in many, possibly most, of our colleges. The type grew out of the fact that the American college was, and in a large degree still is, a product or a function of the church. A fitness existed, therefore, of making the chief officer of the ecclesiastical society also the chief officer of the educational society. It was, and still is, held that the supreme and com- prehensive purpose of the college is to form a fine and strong character in its students. This aim is identical with the general aim of the church. No unfitness, therefore, was apparent in looking to the pastorate for proper candidates for the college 4 49 The College President presidency. In certain colleges and institutions of even the more liberal type, it is still in the col- legiate statutes declared that the President shall be a member of a specified church. The President of Columbia, for instance, is required to be a member of the Protestant Episcopal Church, and the Presi- dent of Brown University and of the University of Chicago is required to be a member of the Bap- tist Church. Although but few colleges demand by their statutes that their chief executive officer shall be a clergyman, yet Christian and collegiate opinion in the case of many institutions would be satisfied with nothing other than that the President should be a clergyman. The great presidents of the past have, therefore, necessarily been clergymen. Dwight, of the first years of the century, at Yale; Kirkland, of the corre- sponding period, at Harvard; "Wayland, of the middle period of the century, at Brown ; and Nott, of the first half of the century, at Union, are ex- amples of the clergyman as a college president. Woolsey, chosen President of Yale in 1846, was ordained before he entered upon the duties of the office. Down to the middle of the present century, and in nearly every college, the President was a clergyman. As colleges ceased to be primarily ecclesiastical and became more educational institutions, the prevalence of the clerical type began to decline. As State universities sprang into being, — and into vigorous being, too, — the clerical type was found to be unfit. For the State universities were founded 50 The College President as a protest, not against Christianity pnre and nn- defiled, but against an extreme type of denomina- tional Christianity. Therefore, gentlemen who were primarily clergymen, and only secondarily scholars, were found ill adapted to the general educational and scholastic environment. Gentlemen who were primarily scholars, and secondarily clergymen, might, of course, be fitted to do educational work. Of this scholastic type are to be found some noble examples in the middle, and following the middle, years of this century. Mark Hopkins of Williams, Robinson of Brown, Seelye of Amherst, Lord of Dartmouth, Barnard of Columbia, and McCosh of Princeton represent this type in its largest and richest development. These two types, the clerical and the scholastic, overlap each other. Some of those whom I name as scholastic presidents were ordained clergymen of their churches. But be it said that the clerical element in each example of this class represents the clerical elements in a far less conspicuous and vital way than the scholastic. One thinks of Wool- sey, for instance, not as a clergyman or as the author of a volume of sermons, but as a scholar in public and international law. The first thought, too, of Hopkins and of Seelye and of McCosh is not of them as preachers or ministers, though they did preach and administer the sacraments, but the first thought of them is as philosophers and teachers and authors. The third type, the executive or administrative, grew out of the demands of the presidential office. 51 The College President These growing demands in turn grew out of the enlargement of the college. When the greatest colleges had only three or four hundred students, as not a few of them did have forty years ago, the work of the President could be done with- out difficulty by one who was also filling a profes- sor's chair. Throughout the time of the prevalence of the clerical and scholastic type in the office, the President of the college was also usually professor of what was called " mental and moral philosophy." But when a college in its undergraduate depart- ment has a thousand or more students, and in all its departments a number running from two to four thousand, the duties of the executive officer cannot well be performed by one who is teaching twelve hours a week. The increase in students is accompanied with an enlargement in all relations. The number of teachers in the largest colleges has doubled and quadrupled, and the endowment has become many times greater. The relations of col- leges to the public schools have become more numerous and more important. The relations to the people in all respects have also been enlarged. These conditions are both the cause and the effect of the prevalence of the executive or administrative type of the college President. Of course, this type may be embodied in one who is either a clergyman or a scholar, or both ■, but when the office is so filled the clerical or scholastic relation is not a cause, or even a condition, but only an accompanying circumstance or element. The President is not chosen to a position demanding 52 I The College President executive ability because he is a clergyman or be- cause he is a scholar, — he may even be chosen in spite of his being a clergyman or a scholar, — but he is chosen simply because of his presumed ability to do a specific work. This third type is divided, in its turn, into two or three somewhat diverse elements. For the Pres- ident of a new and poor and small denominational college in a new State is an executive, and the President of an old and rich and free and large college is also an executive. The President of a new college on the banks of the Oregon is an ex- ecutive, and so is the President of Harvard or of Yale or of Columbia. In the executive presidency, too, the emphasis on the various sides of the office may be varied. In the presidency of Columbia the emphasis is placed on the materially constructive side. In the presidency of Harvard it is placed on the educationally constructive side. The college President of to-day is an adminis- trator. In his work as an administrator are found many elements. Among these elements as an administrator is financial ability. As a financier the college Presi- \ dent is, first, to get funds; second, to invest funds ; and third, to use funds. As he gets funds largely, invests funds safely, uses funds wisely, is his success assured. The American college is usually the result of private foundation. It gen- erally springs out of the generous thought of an individual or a society of individuals. It continues to require the help of those, as supporters, who were 53 The College President its founders. The President is to secure, therefore, the endowment necessary for the proper doing and proper enlarging and enriching of its work. He is also to be able to recognize a good or a bad invest- ment. He may not be called upon to make invest- ments. It is seldom that his will alone determines what investments shall be made. Never should this responsibility rest upon him or upon any other person solely. But he should know so much about , investments as to be able to follow them as they are I from time to time made. The laws which govern the investment of college funds are the same laws which govern the investment of all trust funds which are expected to yield a regular income. He \ should also be so acquainted with the conditions of the different departments of the college, with the demands of each for instruction and instructors, that it is easy for him to divide the funds properly for the securing of the great purposes for which the college stands. Of course, all college presidents fail in any one or all of these respects in varying degrees. One college President spends too much money in fitting up the scientific laboratories of the college, the Trustees call for a halt, and ask for his resignation. One President makes too large investment in mortgage loans which prove to be worth only half their face-value, and he is asked to retire. One college President fails to interest the college constituency in the increase of the en- dowment, and he is glad to lay down the functions of his office. In the thirty years that President Eliot has filled with such conspicuous power and 54 The College President success the presidency of Harvard, the increase in quick assets has been about ten million dollars. Under the presidency of a most vigorous man, the University of Chicago, in less than a third of thirty years, has gathered unto itself an equal sum. Dr. McCosh, in a still earlier time, saw the funds of Princeton augmented, in his score of years of service, by three millions. The methods of securing funds, of course, vary. To one President money is given because the President has simply said in his annual report that money is needed. To another President it is given because people have confi- dence in his financial management of the college. To another money is given because of religious or ecclesiastical reasons. To a fourth it is given be- cause he asks for it. He may ask for two hundred dollars and get twenty thousand, or he may ask for two hundred thousand dollars and get twenty thousand or even two hundred. On the whole, college Presidents are able to prove that the college is the best method— as it truly is— for improving the conditions of humanity through the gift of large sums of money. As an administrator, the college President must be able to get on with men. Harmony is essential to the successful carrying forward of a work which demands personal service. Harmony, or the power of making adjustments, is sometimes supposed to be the sign of a weak character ; but this ability of maintaining a pleasant relationship between all the parts of the one force is a necessary element in the constitution of a college President. With at least 55 The College President four bodies, and it may be with five, the college President is brought into relationship. They are the Faculty, the Trustees, the students, the alumni, and the public. With each of these bodies he can maintain any one of some six relations. He may maintain the relation, first, of conflict ; second, of separateness ; third, of subjection; fourth, of mastery; fifth, of cooperation; and sixth, of de- votion. Of course, the relation of conflict is sporadic. If the official hand of the President is against every man, every man's official hand is against him, and he soon ceases to have any chance to have an official hand against any man. Yet conflict of the executive officer with any one of these four or five bodies is not unknown. With the Faculty the most common cause of disagree- ment arises from the assumption of monarchical powers on the part of the chief executive. The Faculty in an American college is usually quite as democratic as is American society. It con- tains scholars more scholarly than the President. It also not infrequently contains gentlemen of an eminence more eminent than any distinction that belongs to its chief officer; it possesses a strong esprit de corps ; it will not long endure a despot. In case a Faculty is split up into factions, the willingness of the President to recognize these factions, and to give his influence to any one of them, is, and must be, a cause of trouble. The college President is to be as impartial as any judge of the Supreme Bench. The President, too, of a small college in a small 56 The Collem President ■^fe town having a small Faculty— as most colleges are small and have small faculties and are in small towns — is in peril of seeing things in dispropor- tion. He is in peril of magnifying the small and of minimizing the large. He and his associates are in danger of lacking " out-of-doorness." Such relations often result in conflict of relations. In this democratic small society he is in peril of play- ing the monarch; and such an attempt usually results in hardness of feeling and more or less of a disorganization. Differences between the Presi- dent and boards of Trustees are most likely to arise in the dif&culty of properly locating responsi- bility. Boards of Trustees are in danger of holding the President liable for results which he, in turn, thinks are the duties of the Board. Such a diffi- culty exists in the very constitution of most boards. If the President of the college is also the presidentX of the Board of Trust, as he always ought to be, 1 and as in many cases he is, he is by certain of his associates regarded as their leader and guide, and yet by others his office may be interpreted simply as that of chairman, who is to do the bidding of the Board. A college, for instance, needs money. (And what college does not % Every college ought to need money. It is not doing its duty, if it do not need money.) The President may affirm that it is not his duty to raise the money. If money is to be raised, it is the duty of the Board to see that it is raised. The Board may reply that this man was made President in order to do the work that most needs to be done. The work which most 57 The College President needs doing is the raising of money. This duty this man is unwilling to do. In this condition collision is inevitable. With the whole body of students, too, the Presi- dent may find himself in a permanent condition of conflict. I do not now refer to the rebellions which arise from causes which are usually transient, but I do refer to the strained relations which exist be- tween the President and the students. These most frequently arise from the inability or unwillingness —usually inability— of the President to put him- self in the place of the student. It is the sheer and simple lack of sheer and simple sympathy. It springs often from a want of youthfulness, a qual- ity which may be lacking in that unchanging in- dividual, the youngest college President, or it may be potent in the oldest college officer. It may be manifest in his dealing with the individual student, or it may be made manifest in his dealings with the whole body of the students. The lack may be constitutional. He may wish to see and feel and will as the students see and feel and will, but he finds himself unable to enter into their state of mind. He moves in a different sphere from theirs. They move in a different sphere from his. The two circles may touch each other at only one point, and then only to repel. He may possibly not de- sire to be one with the students. Their interests are to him objects of indifference, and with their concerns he is not concerned. Conflict, too, with men who are graduates may spring from perpetuat- ing conflicts had with the same men when they were 58 The College President undergraduates. Differences of this nature, so far as they have no relation with the undergraduate conditions, may arise from a lack of frankness on the part of the Board of Trust or of the President. Colleges differ much with respect to the freedom with which they take their friends and their alumni into their confidence. Certain colleges have for years been most free in conveying all information regarding their internal organization and financial management to the world, and to their former stu- dents, and to every one who may wish to receive it. The ground is that the college is a public institu- tion. The college appeals to the public for students and for funds. Therefore the public has a right to know what use has been made of the funds received, and also what it would do with funds for which it is asking. Cornell and Harvard are as fitting ex- amples as can be found of the freedom of colleges in opening to the people their methods and condi- tions, financial and scholastic. Certain colleges, on the other hand, have been loath to let the people know regarding their internal conditions and administration. The ground is that the col- lege is a private institution. It is incorporated as a private institution, and the public and even its graduates have no more right to know regarding its condition than they have to know about the condition of the Standard Oil Company or the Sugar Trust. Amherst and Princeton have for years represented this tendency and condition, and, of course, upon what seem to their officers as ample and sufficient grounds. It is to be said that 59 The College President if the college wishes to keep itself in touch with its graduates, it should adjust itself and its conditions to the principle that knowledge is the mother of interest, and interest is the mother of beneficence. The chief cause of a conflict between a college President and the people is a lack of common sense. The college President seldom or never comes into conflict with the public except through the news- paper. The newspaper is the ground upon which the battle is fought, or, to change the flgure, it may be the very guns into which the opposing sides put their ammunition;— and usually, be it added, the editors or publishers of such journals are only too eager to receive such forces. The origin of these public difficulties is found frequently to be resting both with the newspaper and with the President — more usually with the newspaper than with the President, but its origin is sometimes found in the President. The great trouble with the newspaper is that it does not, in many instances, sufficiently recognize the importance of its reportorial depart- ment to cause proper reports of the doings of the college or of the utterances of its officers to be made. In the matter of public influence the re- portorial department of the American newspaper has come far to excel the editorial department, and yet the intellectual training that is employed in the editorial department is far superior to that employed in the reportorial. There is no need of diminishing the ability put into the editorial col- umn, but there is vast need of increasing the truth- fulness of the reportorial columns. The origin 60 The College President of any possible conflict, when found on the side of the President, usually arises from his failure to recognize the importance of his utterances made to representatives of the newspaper. He is inclined not to guard his utterances properly or to make them sufficiently clear and comprehensive. These causes of conflict, existing in a small de- gree, often show themselves simply in separation. Remoteness of the college President from his offi- cial associates and associations, or remoteness of his associates from him, results in ineffectiveness. Force in the collegiate organization is composed of many elements and of numerous forces, and such forces must be closely united to secure adequacy of result. The President must keep in close touch with the members of the Faculty. He should know the needs of each department in order that each department may do its full duty to the students, and also in order to give him light as to the appro- priations designed for each different department. The President should keep in close touch with the Trustees, in order that he may know them, and that they may know him, and therefore have con- fidence in his recommendations and approve of his methods, in case they are worthy of confidence and of approval. He should keep in close touch with the students also, in order that they may so know him and he so know them as to help them. He should keep in close touch with the alumni, for they represent that part of the people which should, and usually does, feel the most intense in- terest in the college and in its progress. He should 6i The College President keep in touch with the people, for the college is essentially a public institution. It draws its stu- dents from the people whom it trains for public service, and it looks to the people for power and enrichment of every sort. The college President, in getting along with men, is not usually able to assume the role of master. Autocratic, monarchical government in the State undoubtedly results in economy of ad- ministration in the securing of justice, in the safety of life, and in the security of property, in case the monarch has perfect wisdom and goodness as well as absolute power. But such wisdom, such goodness, and such power are seldom found. Autocratic, monarchical government in the college undoubtedly secures the richest results, provided the monarch has perfect wisdom and goodness as well as absolute power. But such wisdom and goodness and power are seldom found even in the college ! Therefore, the method of the master is not to be followed in the college. The method re- sults in evils of all sorts— bickerings, disaffections, resignations, rebellions, revolutions, ineffectiveness. The relation between the President and all the directly or indirectly constituted parts of the college should be one of cooperation and devotion. The President should be devoted to every interest of the college, and should cooperate with every agency which works for or in the college. No want to him should be unknown, and by him no need should be unrecognized. Knowledge of each department should be his, not only for his own use, but also 62 The College President that he may convey the knowledge to others for the more adequate filling of all needs. He should recognize the claims of the sciences and of the lan- guages, of physics and metaphysics. Every in- terest of the student should be his interest. He should, like McCosh, love " my boys." With every college organization he should be in close touch. Every athletic or dramatic interest should be his concern. Any demand of a department which he cannot fill should give him sorrow; every wish of a professor which he cannot gratify should give him regret. Cooperation with every co-worker and devotion to every associate, sympathy with every interest, should be his happy mood and constant endeavor. In this cooperative service the President is tempted to make such a use of the tools of speech that he becomes in peril of being regarded as a liar. The remark is common that all college presi- dents lie. The falseness of the remark does not at all lessen the truth of the fact that all college presidents are tempted to lie, and are tempted pos- sibly more strongly than most men. The reputa- tion for deception which has come to cling about the office arises from the desire of the President to satisfy personal or official interests which are in mutual opposition. Therefore he is tempted to mold the pliable clay of truth to suit an auditor or petitioner. Of course the method is suicidal, and it is, I am sure, easy for the reader to think of more than one college President whose repu- tation for untruthfulness has cost him his office. 63 The College President As an administrator the college President is a ' leader. He is obliged to take the initiative. Col- lege bodies are conservative. Scholarship is con- servative, and scholarship must be conservative. Scholarship relates to and deals with the achieve- ments of the past. What is called academicity is only conservatism gone to seed. Professors are conservative. Their work tends to create content- ment with existing conditions. Trustees are con- servative. Judge Simeon E. Baldwin of the Supreme Court of Connecticut, and professor of constitutional law in Yale University, in a paper ■ on the " Readjustment of the Collegiate to the Professional Course," read before the American Bar Association in August, 1898, says : " The cor- porations which control our colleges are naturally and properly bodies of slow movement. They are commonly dominated by the President, and he by the policy of his predecessors. Jeremy Bentham said that he did not like boards ; they always made fences. Behind their shelter a blind adherence to traditional policy intrenches itself unseen. It is generally fortified by the sentiment of the older members of the Faculty of the institution. Their motto is apt to be, * Quieta non moveri.' " Trustees are inclined to let the gospel of hope be silent at the shrine of the well-enough. In the desire to avoid risks and to escape from rashness, they are prone to take no risks and to make no ventures. Of course, the question is largely the old question between conservatism and progressiveness. But in this contest there is no question but that the 64 The College President President must inevitably stand on the side of the progressive. Some colleges, like some countries, seem to be advancing, while others are petrified. But the President must be found among the ad- vancing forces. No college President that turns his face toward the past only or chiefly should be allowed to hold his place. In fact, every college that turns its face toward the past only or chiefly is dying, and ought to die. Every college President who does not turn his face toward the future active- ly and chiefly is unworthy of his place. The college or the college President that is simply standing still is like the bicycle that is standing still : it is not standing still ; it is falling. Every college that is not advancing is like the wave that is not ad- vancing: it is breaking. In this forward move- ment the President must maintain active aggressive leadership. This leadership applies to the field of finance. He must create faith that funds can be got, and this faith he must make rational by get- ting the funds. This leadership applies to educa- tion too, and he must cause every adjustment of knowledge and of teaching to fit into the enlarging and changing needs of the community. Among the educational leaders of this age two men are preeminent. They are the first President of Vas- sar College and the present President of Harvard College. They both came to their offices in that great seventh decade of the nineteenth century; they both gave light for darkness concerning edu- cation; they both quickened interest; they both aroused enthusiasm ; they both created strength ; 65 The College President they both inspired followers and associates into rendering superb service to the cause of human education and betterment. I write of both in the past tense. The present tense should be used of one : long may it prove to be the only tense to be fittingly used of him ! This power of leadership is akin to, and yet dis- tinct from, the power of inspiration. This power of inspiration is largely the power of personality. It is a power born in a man, and yet, of course, it may be cultivated, enlarged, and enriched. A vital personality usually has the elements of good health, an alert intellect, a winsome heart, and a strong will. It has its basis in the body, and it also gath- ers to itself the strength of the intellectual, emo- tional, and volitional nature of man. Through such an inspiring personality the teacher is helped, by it the student finds his work made easier, and by its means the trustee discovers that insuper- able difficulties are not insuperable. In the pres- ence of such vigor the graduates keep themselves in touch with their college the more directly. The public schools also feel the impulse of so vigor- ous a force; and the whole constituency of the college is filled with hopefulness by reason of such virile strength and splendid faith. Such inspira- tion and such leadership have been given by not a few college presidents who are still living. In recent years the names of such administrators as Tappan of Michigan, as Cattell of Lafayette, as Pepper of Pennsylvania, embodying virile elements 66 The College President of character and of leadership, have come to shine as the stars. As an administrator the President is not to for- get that he bears a close relation to other parts of the whole educational system of his nation. For the educational system is one. Weakness in a single part is weakness in every part. Strength in a single part is strength in all parts. It would be well, for certain reasons, to do away with the divisions into the lower education and the higher, as are seen in the primary, the grammar, and the high schools, and the college. The division gives too many and too easy stopping-places for students who should go on. But the power of unifying, in- spiring, correlating the educational system must come from above. If most political revolutions spring up from below, most educational revolutions spring down from above. A college President worthy and wise is especially fitted to aid the whole cause of education. He has a vision of the field as no one who is engaged in other parts of the same field can have. He has been a member of it as a student, and most frequently as a teacher also. Its students he receives into the college. Many of the graduates of his college become teachers in it. It is a college President who has given the best en- richment to the program of grammar schools. He also should be in a close relation with professional education. His graduates become lawyers, doctors, ministers, and he is deeply interested in giving to them a proper training for their professional ser- vice. The current feeling entertained by certain 67 The College President grammar- and high-school teachers of the remote- ness of colleges and college officers from their schools should pass away, and it is passing away. If certain college officers have given occasion for the feeling, the occasions are becoming less fre- quent. If teachers in the "grades" have been sensitive, they are becoming less sensitive. The college President is not to lord it over Israel, but to lead, to help, to inspire Israel. The President also should be a man uniting openness to suggestion with a clearly defined policy and resolute independence. His love for his college is so warm, his desire that it shall adequately fill its opportunity is so great, that he welcomes every intimation that may prove to be of aid in the adjusting of power to need. For he has no thought that he is the people, or that wis- dom will die with him. The suggestions which he receives may prove to be largely worthless, and yet, possibly, one out of the hundreds may contain the seed of a vast and noble fruitage. It was said of Emerson that he seemed to welcome every man and every message as possibly being the bearer of some precious blessing. In this mood of expectancy the college President works and hopes. Yet, al- though this is his disposition and outlook, his con- ception of his own duty is clear. He knows what the college is, and better than any one else he knows what it should become. He also knows the method by which the supreme or minor ends are to be secured. He should have as definite a policy as Mark Pattison, rector of Lincoln, had for his The College President college. The policy which he holds should not be a general policy equally good for all colleges. The President of the American college has not infre- quently erred in judging that the policy which is good for one college is also good for the college of which he is an officer. The presidents of colleges are now, however, coming to appreciate the differ- entiation of functions of different colleges. Dif- ferent colleges serve different purposes, or, if they serve the same purpose, they secure this purpose by different means. It may be said that the pur- pose of each college is, first, to train its students to noble manhood through noble scholarship and noble personal associations, and, second, to extend the boundaries of knowledge. But these two pur- poses do not apply with equal force to different colleges. One college should lay the emphasis on knowledge and another upon manhood. The ordi- nary New England college does, and should, lay emphasis upon undergraduate work for the purpose of training character. Harvard College is com- ing to lay greater emphasis upon graduate work. Johns Hopkins University has, from the time of its establishment in 1876, laid a stronger emphasis upon graduate work and the extension of know- ledge than upon undergraduate service. The presi- dents of Colby and Bowdoin and Bates in Maine are obliged to accept a policy unlike that which is adopted by the presidents of Columbia and Prince- ton and Chicago. Columbia is placed in the me- tropolis, and therefore has a policy different from that of Princeton, placed in a suburb of the 69 The College President metropolis. In the year 1853 the late President Rogers of the Massachusetts Institute of Tech- nology, while professor in the University of Vir- ginia, wrote to his brother Henry: "Merely col- legiate establishments do not prosper in any of our large cities."^ The policy of a college in a large city must differ from that of a college in a small village. It was not long after the College of New Jersey voted to call itself Princeton Uni- versity that the President of what has for several years been known as Colby University persuaded its Trustees to call the institution Colby College. In each of these cases President Rogers had a sound policy, which grew out of the conditions of his institution. The President of a college in central New York — small in number of students, but rich in history — was, previous to his election, requested by the Trustees to accept of the position upon the ground that it was desired to transfer the college into a university. He declined to consider the invitation. He knew that there was no need of another university in the central part of the State of New York. When, on reflection, the Trustees asked him to become President of the col- lege, he assented. The result is proving the wis- dom of his prevision and choice. Every college President must, with all his receptiveness, clearly put before himself a policy for the institution which he serves, and with the clear definition that he makes to himself of his college should be united a will sufficiently resolute that policy to 1 " Life and Letters of William Barton Eogers," Vol. I, p. 329. 70 The College President execute. Without crankiness or stubbornness, he should insist upon the working out of his own plan. He is, of course, willing to surrender minor aims in order to secure the far-off and most precious purpose, but that purpose, wisely con- ceived, he is to hold most dear, and for it to work with constancy, with enthusiasm, and with inde- pendence. He is, therefore, to have in himself the elements of a statesman. He is to be in essence what Leslie Stephen says of Henry Fawcett : " He possessed some of the most essential qualities of a statesman— independence, soundness of judgment,^ and a power of commanding the sympathies with- out flattering the meaner instincts of the people." ^ The college President as an administrator is also to be a judge of men. No small part of his work is to recommend men for certain positions. In not a few colleges his will as to appointments is, as is indicated in the preceding chapter, prac- tically monarchical. ' In other colleges his will is only one of several forces cooperating in making appointments. But, at all events, his influence is considerable in the constitution of the appointing power. In the making of appointments he is obliged to consider the elements which constitute the value of a teacher to the college. Among these elements are scholarship, ability in the class-room, the pursuit of original investigations or the writ- ing of books, executive or administrative power, personal character as embodying the great pur- poses for which a college stands, and interest in 1 " Life of Henry Fawcett," by Leslie Stephen, p. 449. 71 The College President the general relations of the college or of the whole university. He is often obliged to compare and to balance these elements. The demands, too, which the people make upon the officers of the college whom he appoints differ at different times. " The most important function of the President," said President Eliot, thirty years ago, " is that of advising the Corporation concerning appointments, particularly about appointments of young men who have not had time and opportunity to approve themselves to the public. It is in discharging this duty that the President holds the future of the university in his hands. He cannot do it well unless he have insight, unless he be able to recog- nize, at times beneath some crusts, the real gentle- man and the natural teacher. This is the one oppressive responsibility of the President: all other cares are light beside it. To see every day the evil fruit of a bad appointment must be the crudest of official torments. Fortunately the good effect of a judicious appointment is also inestima- ble; and here, as everywhere, good is more pene- trating and diffusive than evil." ^ In the report of Jared T. Newman as alumni Trustee of Cornell University (June, 1898), he says, quoting from the report in 1888 by Dr. Jordan, now the President of Leland Stanford Junior University : " The Faculty was the glory of old Cornell. It was the strength of the men whom, with marvelous insight. President White called about him in 1868 that made the Cornell we knew. 1 "Educational Reform," pp. 35, 36. 72 The College President Everything else was raw, crude, discouraging ; but with the teachers was inspiration. The * subtle influence of character,' the association with men, has been the heart of the Cornell education in the past." The college President is also to be able to appre- ciate scholarship, as well as to be a judge of scholars. He may not himself be a scholar. Executive work which consists of details is an enemy to scholarship, which demands that time be unbroken. The presi- dents of colleges whose scholarship is comparable with the scholarship of the best professors are very few. The change in this respect in the last three decades is exceedingly marked. Hill and Felton and "Walker were scholars, and so were Woolsey and Porter and Barnard and Hopkins, and so also was McCosh, as well as Wood of Bowdoin , and so the present presidents of Yale, of Princeton, of Johns Hopkins, and of the University of Kansas are scholars. But when one comes to count up the number of college presidents who can justly lay claim to scholarship, he finds them a feeble folk and small. The cause is evident enough: the administrator has no time for the quiet pur- suit of learning. The college President is not a teacher; he is an executive. His work is to do things, not to tell about them. But neverthe- less he is to be in most complete sympathy with scholarship, and he is ever to have the largest ap- preciation of scholarship. If the college teacher is set to teach, he is also given the duty of extend- ing the boundaries of human knowledge. In this 13 The College President extension lie should find no heart more eager, no mind more appreciative, no purse more liberal, than that of the college President. The scientific labora- tories in which investigations are made such as those which Morley is carrying on in Western Reserve, or "Webster is carrying on in Clark, or Benjamin Osgood Peirce is carrying on at Harvard, should be the objects of direct and constant interest to him. The exploration of the various parts of the earth — geology, geography, archaeology — should represent to him a field of duty and of privilege which he should be most eager in urging people to cultivate. The college President may not himself be a scholar of any sort, but he is not worthy of his place unless he knows what scholarship is, and unless scholar- ship he admires and is willing to work for it hard. A college President is also to be able to command the confidence of the people. He is to deserve this confidence through his ability as a financier. He is, as I have before intimated, the custodian of trust funds; is he worthy of being such a custodian? He is a solicitor for funds ; is he worthy of receiv- ing? In a market in which money commands a lower rate of interest in each passing year, is he able to maintain a proper rate of interest, and also to keep good the security of loans? No college will usually secure endowment unless its President is known to be worthy of financial confidence. He is also to be able to receive civic confidence. He should be known as a good citizen. He may or may not have the infiuence of Witherspoon in the formative years of our nation, of Low in the city 74 The Collem President '^ One method of securing this loyalty represents 87 special Conditions and a good in itself, and also is the means of a further- good This good is happiness. The college is ever to seek to promote the hap- piness of each of its members. No teacher can render to the college the best service unless he be happy in that service. Outside of the happiness which results from good personal associations and environment, the happiness of a college professor is largely promoted through his having good tools, and through the satisfaction which his official su- periors take in his work. Every college should furnish each teacher with all the tools he can use. For most teachers these tools consist of books. For the teachers of science they consist of well- equipped laboratories as well as books. The col- lege teacher, too, is not so unlike most workers in every form of human society that he is hardened against the pleasure which appreciation of his work should, and does, give. The happiness of the teacher in a college is op- posed by difficulties arising from several sources. In some colleges the uncertainty of regular or full payment of salaries is so great that grave anxiety is the constant companion of the professor. But the anxiety arising from this cause is to be found usually only in those colleges in which other than scholastic motives prevail. Some denominational colleges have been obliged to ask their professors to bear bur- dens which have greatly diminished their strength for their proper college work. Other colleges, too, besides the denominational, — even colleges sup- ported by the State,— are occasionally obliged to Methods of Administration ask their professors to bear burdens of financial suffering; but it is to be said that these burdens are usually borne with the calmness of a scholar, even if not always with the patience of a saint. Not only does the want of money create unhappi- ness on the part of the teachers, but also a lack of frankness on the part of the college executive. Many a college professor is left in ignorance of affairs which are vitally associated with himself and with his family. The tenure of office as well as the amount of income represent two most im- portant elements in determining this happiness. Very grave injustice is often done to a college teacher by telling him at the very close of an academic year that his services will not be required at the beginning of the next year. Every cause of uncertainty should be at once removed by the one who is acquainted with the conditions, and who is strong enough to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. The happiness of the students is an element quite as important as the happiness of the teachers of the college ; for students cannot, anymore than their professors, do the best work in a state of mental indifference or sullenness, or in an emotional an- archy of dissatisfaction, of which unhappiness is at once the cause and the result. The most im- portant element in producing happiness among the students of a college is a wholesome atmos- phere of humanity. A wholesome atmosphere of humanity signifies that college students are to be treated as other men, and neither as young boys 89 special Conditions and nor as animals; that they are to be honored and respected, and that the honor and respect that are demanded from them are to be paid to them. In this atmosphere justice without severity, kindness without weakness, firmness without wilfulness, appreciation without adulation, exactness of de- mands without nagging, strictness in enforcing college rules and obedience to principle without obstinacy, and sympathy without softness, should prevail. All personal kindnesses shown to stu- dents by professors or their families, especially to the boys and girls away from home, are valuable in most colleges ; but no favors of this sort are for a moment to be spoken of in comparison with the worth of a large sense of humanity. In the work of a college the principle of freedom is of supreme importance. As ethical interpreters of liberal learning in a democratic country, teachers and students are alike exceedingly sensitive in re- spect to any limitation of their right to hold and to express such opinions as they see fit to hold and to express. The question of academic freedom may be seen from two or three points of view. One point of view relates to that occupied by the college Presi- dent or professor ; one point of view to that occu- pied by the Trustee ; and one point of view may be said to be that which is held by those who have at heart the highest interests of a progressive civilization. The question of academic freedom as considered by the college President or professor has several 90 Methods of Administration relations. The general principle of freedom be- longing to him as a man is clear. He should, and usually is, free to hold and to express such opin- ions as he sees fit, only provided he does not op- pose the laws of public decency and of personal morals. As a college officer, however, the ques- tion whether he is as free as he is as a man is a question which depends largely upon the atmos- phere and ^the conditions of the college itself. A college professor who was subject to much criticism for holding and expressing views which were in opposition to those of the college he served, said on voluntarily retiring from his chair: "Not for a moment will I allow myself to be thought of as a martyr to the cause of free teaching. I shall de- fend the constituency and Trustees of College in their right to choose what they shall have taught." A college professor may, for instance, hold certain political or civil opinions. He may believe that these opinions should be expressed. One of the motives urging him to this expression may be that the expression would tend to in- crease the number of persons holding these same opinions and therefore enhance the welfare of the people. He may, however, hold certain opinions, and yet believe that the conditions in which he is placed are such that great harm, rather than good, would be produced by their expression. He there- fore justifies himself in silence. One of the most distinguished teachers in America wrote to a former student, who was placed in a college in which he could easily have opposed the ruling 91 special Conditions and ideas, saying: "The predictions that you would come into a state of loggerheads with your col- leagues are not verified. You have pursued a very wise course in avoiding contention with them. Even if you were right and they were wrong, you would be at a great disadvantage in contending with them; for you are younger than they, and they have a large body of alumni who are united in their favor. So the wise way is for the younger man to yield." A professor of metaphysics, teach- ing in a Southern college in the year 1853, believed in the immediate emancipation of the slaves. His belief he expressed, and he was at once compelled to tender his resignation. Another professor who also believed in the emancipation of the slaves withheld the expression of his opinion, and retained his chair. Which method — the method of expres- sion or of silence— a teacher shall employ, he must himself determine. But it is ever, and most strongly, to be said that a college professor is not justified in using his professorship as a sounding- board for spreading abroad his opinions when they are in opposition to those held by the persons who established and maintain his professorship. In fact, it is the veriest commonplace to say that such expression is in contradiction to the laws of good breeding. In fact, academic freedom is more often a question of good breeding than it is of liberty. Every college professor is to be absolutely free to hold and to express whatever opinions he chooses, so long as he maintains the character of a noble man and the manners of a gentleman. 92 Methods of Administration The question of academic freedom as seen from the point of view of the college Trustee is also one of grave importance. The large principle is that the college represents a condition for free discus- sion. It is the one place where truth may be ex- pressed — or what one holds to be the truth — with- out fear or favor. No fear is to be entertained for the truth ; the only fear is for error. For error is sure to fall. The principle that Milton laid down in his " Areopagitica " is still sound : The right of freedom and of liberty is a right now universally conceded. The best method of suppressing error is not by suppression, but by discussion. Educa- tional and religious heresies, as well as political, are not put down by restraint, but by expression and discussion. Such is the broad view, and yet a Trustee may not be content with it ; he may be inclined to adopt a narrow interpretation. He may say that the political or sociological views of a professor are not popular. The community is in favor of protection, and the views of the professor favor free trade. The community is individualis- tic, and the professor is socialistic, and is interested in the significance of socialistic phenomena. The community is prohibitory in its temperance or other sumptuary laws, and the professor favors license. Such lack of adjustment the Trustee feels will result in loss of students and a consequent loss of revenue. In other words, the Trustee be- lieves that the college should follow the behests of the community, and that each professor should believe in all respects as the community of which 93 special Conditions and the college is a part believes. Under this condi- tion the Eegents or Trustees of certain State in- stitutions have removed professors and have elected professors. As said a Republican journal, at the time of the discussion of the resignation of President Andrews from Brown University : " The theoretical rights of an individual are always sub- ject to restriction when they come into conflict with the rights or the interests of others. In other words, the individual has rights, but he also has responsibilities. In the case of a college President these responsibilities are very serious. A college President has the right to think and say what he pleases % Yes ; but he has no right to promulgate views of such a character as to react against the college of which he is in charge. The free-silver question is both a moral and a political issue. Most of the men who send their sons to Brown University, or give money to endow professor- ships or scholarships there, probably have views which are directly opposed to those of President Andrews. When their feelings in this matter be- came apparent, it seems to us that the choice between an active political propaganda and the interests of the university ought not to have been a difficult one." Such is the narrow view of the condition as interpreted by the college Trustee. The question of academic freedom as seen from the point of view of the interests of the highest civilization lends itself to easy discussion. The demands of the highest interests of civilization re- quire the utmost freedom of debate. Humanity 94 Methods of Administration makes progress through liberty, not through re- pression. Even though one college should suffer for a time through open discussion, the gain to humanity is great. It is reported that Bishop McGree once said that it would be better for every man in England to go home drunk of a night than for any man to be denied the right of going home drunk. It is likewise better for every college to hold and to teach error than for any college to have the right to hold and teach what it sees fit taken away. For the college, as for the individual, liberty is the only worthy condition. The college, like the individual, should be trusted. That academic freedom is not so thoroughly installed in American institutions and instilled in the educational judgments of the American people as it ought to be, is painfully evident. Formerly the teaching of the sciences represented the field where limitations were imposed. It was not long ago that in many a college or seminary of theology a teacher who taught evolution would be the ob- ject of suspicion, and might become the object of removal. At the present time the teaching of cer- tain economic theories would open a professor to the charge of insubordination. No teacher is to teach the false, of course, but each is to be allowed to discuss such questions as bimetallism or social- ism, protection or free trade, without suffering. Professor Foxwell of St. John's College, Cam- bridge, England, writes to a friend in America : It is difficult for us to understand the situation in the United States with regard to university professors. Our 95 special Conditions and people cannot understand why you can sit down quietly under this poisoning of the springs of national life. There is no heritage we prize more highly or guard more jealously than English freedom of thought and speech. We tolerate at our universities any caprice, any eccen- tricity, even some degree of incompetency, rather than to tamper with the liberty of professors. They are, in fact, absolutely independent. Like our judges, they hold their chairs for life and good conduct. In Cambridge we do not recognize any institution as a college unless it has an independent foundation and all teachers are elected by their colleagues or other experts. No Trustees intervene. But even if they did intervene, English public opinion would never tolerate any restraint on teaching other than that involved in the preliminary inquiry as to the competency of the teacher. A large policy should dictate. Let the best President or professor be chosen, and then let him be trusted. He is neither a fool nor a boor. He will not deal with the large vested and personal interests of the college with rashness. He will re- spect the opinions of his associates, and honor the rights of his official superiors or inferiors or peers. Let him be a gentleman, and then let him have full freedom. If a teacher be not a gentleman, he is not worthy of a college position. Another element of importance in the adminis- tration of a college relates to the differences be- tween a college and a university. Historically this difference has never been clearly differen- tiated. There are colleges which have done and are doing the work of universities, and there are uni- versities which have only done the work of col- 96 Methods of Administration leges, and some have even been obliged to be content with doing the work of the high school. I There are two essential elements of differentia- tion between the college and the university. One element relates to organization, and the other to the purposes and work of the institution. (1) A university should represent more than one depart- ment of study. An undergraduate college should not be called a university. An undergraduate college with even one professional school might be called a university, but the name should be limited only to those institutions which give in- struction both of undergraduate and of graduate character. (2) In respect to the purposes and work of the institution, the differentiation is also clear in general, although absolutely less distinct. The college is primarily set to form the characteA of undergraduates. The university has for its primary purpose the increase of knowledge or the giving of special professional training. These two' conditions run somewhat into each other. For the college which has for its primary purpose the for- mation of character may have for a secondary purpose the enrichment of the field of knowledge, and may also give a professional education. The university, too, which has for its first purpose the increase of knowledge, the enlargement of the domain of science, may have for its second purpose the enhancement and enrichment of char- acter. And yet, these two purposes it is easy to differentiate when they are embodied in the Under- graduate College and the Graduate School. The 97 special Conditions and Undergraduate College is concerned primarily with the training of character. Its purpose is to make men. The Graduate School is concerned primarily with the training of the intellect. Its primary purpose is to make teachers. The Undergraduate College uses personality as its chief instrument or condition. The G-raduate School uses scholarship as its chief tool. The Undergraduate College takes into view primarily ethical conditions, the Gradu- ate School intellectual conditions. The Under- graduate College is concerned with enriching American life through sending forth into it each year a body of noble men who are also trained thinkers. The Graduate School is primarily con- cerned with training leaders who in their profes- sional career, and especially in teaching, shall give to American society the highest intellectual and ethical results. The difference is fittingly indi- cated by Dean Briggs of Harvard College in his annual report for the academic year 1896-97. Professor Briggs says: Men talk sometimes as if the Graduate School were destined, and happily destined, to overshadow Harvard College ; for men have seen that it is the Graduate School, and not the College, to which they must look for the advancement of learning. The College guides youth to manhood; the Graduate School guides manhood to scholarship. Yet the very fact that the Graduate School is free to think first of learning, and the CoUege bound to think first of character, gives the College a larger and a higher responsibility. The College has, and must ever have, the wider range of human sympathy. It cannot 98 Methods of Administration take a lower place than tlie Graduate School till the de- velopment of the scholar becomes nobler and more abid- ing than the education of a man. Another special element in the administration of a college is found in the place and the work of various clubs and societies, and especially of what is commonly known as the fraternity. Undergraduate life is becoming highly organ- ized. Every college has clubs and societies of many and diverse sorts. A professor in Yale College says: The number of clubs and organizations of all kinds listed in a modern Banner is something wonderful : glee clubs, chess clubs, rifle clubs, whist clubs, yacht clubs, Yale orchestras, Yale unions, university clubs, track ath- letic associations, banjo clubs, tennis clubs, Andover clubs, Ohio clubs, Berkeley societies, etc. — most of them all undreamed of in the simple structure of undergraduate life in the sixties.^ In Harvard College are half a hundred organi- zations. These organizations are literary, dramatic, forensic, political, musical, religious, artistic, ath- letic, and geographical. The names of some of them are possibly suggestive : Civil-Service Reform Club, the Catholic Club, the Folk-lore Club, the Pen and Brush Club, and the Revolver Club. But more important than all clubs of all kinds put together in the American college is the organi- zation known as the fraternity. The fraternity is largely a product of the present 1 H. A. Beers, "Ways of Yale," pp. 10, 11. 99 Cflffii special Conditions and century. Phi Beta Kappa was f onnded in the last century, but two score important fraternities that are now in existence have all had their beginning since 1825, when Kappa Alpha was established in Union College. Certain of these fraternities are national in their relationship, of which at least five are prominent — Alpha Delta Phi, Beta Theta Pi, Phi Delta Theta, Phi Gamma Delta, and Delta Kappa Epsilon. There are other fraternities which are also conspicuous. Among them, in the Eastern group, are Delta Phi, Theta Delta Chi, Sigma Phi, Psi Upsilon, Kappa Alpha, and Delta Psi. The Southern group includes Kappa Alpha (Southern order), Alpha Tau Omega, Sigma Alpha Epsilon, and Kappa Sigma. There are also fraternities that have special relations to Western colleges. Each of these societies is more or less intercollegiate. The number of chapters belonging to each frater- nity varies from a few to two score or more. ,The number of chapters belonging to the general fra- ternities, and also to the fraternities that are local, is in round numbers about eight hundred, and the entire membership, both among graduates and undergraduates, approaches a hundred and fifty thousand. The government of these organizations is like the United States government — a combination of local independence and of intercollegiate relation- ship. In local and minor affairs each chapter con- trols itself, but in all important undertakings the associated chapters act. These associated chap- ters usually meet once a year in a convention lOO Methods of Administration covering several days, at which such legislation is made as may seem necessary for the welfare of the whole society and of each individual chapter thereof. These chapters, scattered throughout the col- leges, are lodged in houses which bear the names of the fraternity. These houses are seldom situ- ated on the college campus, but are usually, though not always, near that campus. Reasons of con- venience prevail in the choice of location. In most cases these houses are rented for a specific time, but in an increasing number of colleges the frater- nities are owning their houses. Some of these houses are large, elaborate, and costly. In others, and more, the houses are simple and inexpensive. The value of the fraternity houses at Amherst and at Cornell is larger than the endowment of the ordinary American college. The principle on which these fraternities are based is the twin principle of gregariousness and of similarity. Human beings of similar tastes and relations like to associate themselves together. Good-fellowship in the college, as in all life, is of exceeding importance. College life naturally brings men into close companionship. The same environment exists for all ; the same teachers teach all; the same age obtains among all; the same democracy of life surrounds all; the same pur- poses animate all; the same interests interest all. The college has ceased to be a monastery and has become a community. But, despite these gen- eral elements of identity, there exist differences loi special Conditions and arising from a community composed of individ- uals. These individuals, who form the whole com- munity, easily and naturally unite to form other communities within the large whole. These lesser communities may unite on the basis of literary likings, of athletic abilities, of scholastic relation- ships, of simple social adjustments. But the general basis of association is the basis of good-fellowship, and on this basis men get together in what is called the fraternity. Be it said that good-fellowship is a more impor- tant element in the college than most students, esf)ecially those who are devoted to their regular studies, appreciate. For good-fellowship repre- sents personality, and personality is more impor- tant than any other element of life, either within or without college walls. It is told of Von Eanke that, at a great celebration held in his honor, he declared he prized more the commendation of being a good fellow than he prized the commenda- tion of being a great student, an eminent historian, or a noble teacher. And when with good-fellow- ship is combined a high intellectual force prevailing among the various members of the college or soci- ety, the result is of the greatest worth. It was the association of Spedding, Milnes (Lord Houghton), Merivale, Arthur Hallam, and Tennyson which probably did more for each of the band of the " Apostles " at Cambridge than any other element of their university or college life. The fraternity in the American college, founded on this basis of good-fellowship, is of the highest 1 02 Methods of Administration wortli in promoting friendships. In college, as out, friendship is the best thing to be given or received. Men living in the close fellowship of the fraternity are frequently friends before they go into this fellowship, and the fellowship deepens the friend- ship, out of which the fraternity itself grows. It is probable that the students in college form more friendships in the four years than they have formed before entering college or than they will form after leaving college. And these friendships, too, are of the most intimate sort. Men in college get much closer to one another than those living in any other condition. The intimacy of relationships prevailing in the ' fraternity is of special worth in forming a just and strong character. Personality is more important than the curriculum ; and the personality manifest in the fraternity house is quite as important as the personality manifest in the class-room. Through this method of intimate relationships all the ele- ments that make up a rich and fine character may become richer and finer. Faults are corrected; manners are cultivated; tastes are improved; the influence of the wiser over the less wise is strong ; the young lend themselves with ease to the guid- ance of the older ; and the older behave in gracious helpfulness toward the less mature. All the ele- ments that make up manhood may be enlarged through the life of the fraternity. The relation which the fraternity holds to the graduates of the college is of great importance. For the graduate finds that the college generation 103 special Conditions and is pretty short, and often after a year, or at the most two years' absence, on returning he finds few men whom he knew or who knew him while he was still an undergraduate. But he does find in his fraternity house a hearty welcome, and from the men at present students he receives the most cor- dial greeting. The ties of the fraternity are far stronger and attach him more closely than the ordinary college relationship. The fraternity serves to keep him in touch with the college more than the college serves to keep him in touch with the fraternity. It is also to be said that the fraternity becomes of great aid to the Faculty and Trustees in pro- moting the good order of the college. President Seelye of Amherst relied much on the help of fra- ternities in his administration. In his annual report to the Trustees (1887) he says : ^ Besides other helps toward the good work of the col- lege, important service is rendered by the societies and the society houses. No one now familiar with the college doubts, so far as I know, the good secured through the Greek letter societies as found among us. They are cer- tainly well managed. Their houses are well kept, and furnish pleasant and not expensive houses to the students occupying them. The rivalry among them is wholesome, kept, as it certainly seems to be, within limits. The tone of the coUege is such that loose ways in a society or its members will be a reproach, and college sentiment, so long as it is reputable itself, will keep them reputable. 1 W. S. Tyler, "A History of Amherst College," p. 264. 104 Methods of Administration The closeness of the relation which should exist between the government of a college and the fra- ternity system is well indicated in a paragraph which I take from the best book upon American college fraternities : ^ The wiser of the college faculties are using and not abusing the fraternities. They find that the chapters are only too glad to assist in maintaining order, in enlisting support for the college, in securing endowments, and, in fact, in doing anything to increase the prosperity of the institutions upon which their own existence depends. When such ofiicers or professors have occasion to disci- pline a member of one of the fraternities, they speak to his chapter mates quietly, and suggest that he is not doing himself credit, or is reflecting discredit upon the good name of the chapter. It is surprising how soon boys can influence each other, and how students can force reason into the mind of an angry boy where faculty admonition would only result in opposition and estrange- ment. The members of a good chapter all try to excel, many for the sake of their chapter where they would not for their own. Each member feels that upon him has fallen no little burden of responsibility to keep the chap- ter up to a standard set, perhaps, by men since grown famous. College faculties sometimes see what a force they have here at hand, and what a salutary discipline the fraternities can exercise. The fraternity also represents an important tie uniting the colleges of our country to one another. The ties which join together the chapters of the same fraternity in the different colleges are far 1 Baird, "American College Fraternities," p. 418. 105 special Conditions and stronger than the ties which unite the colleges themselves. The colleges themselves are prone to be, although now less prone than formerly, in the relationship of antagonistic units. Chapters of fraternities are in the relation of cooperative and unifying elements. They also serve to draw to- gether the members themselves into personal rela- tionship. In this way they serve, though in a far less intimate extent, the purposes which the great organizations such as the Masons or the Odd Fel- lows represent. So important a place is the fraternity coming to occupy that it has been suggested they may in time represent a method of organization and life not unlike that which the colleges at Oxford and Cambridge play in the life of their respective uni- versities. That time is certainly far off, but the tendency is very strong for the social life of the colleges to segregate and to divide itself into fra- ternal organizations. Already college tutors are living in fraternity houses, and libraries for the spe- cial use of the members are formed. What is this but a significant beginning of the English collegiate- university system? With all these advantages it is not to be denied that disadvantages are to be found. These disad- vantages lie in one general fault in promoting a loyalty to only a part of the college interests, and in lessening the loyalty to all those elements that go to constitute the college. Often the fraternity must, because it is a segregating agency, become also a dividing one. Fraternities were abolished io6 Methods of Administration at Princeton in the year 1855, and a recent gradu- ate of that college says : The result is a freedom from those cliques and jeal- ousies which so often mar the peace of fraternity colleges. When Princeton men hear of wrangles over athletic captains, or read of Senior classes giving up Class Day on account of fraternity feuds, they breathe a silent Te Deum for their own immunity. Fraternities were abol- ished in 1855, and now the undergraduates would not allow them to return. It is not because fraternities are objectionable in themselves, only they have no function here. In Cornell they aid the college materially by pro- viding apartments for the men. In metropolitan colleges like Columbia they furnish a basis for social life; but here we have our college rooms, and prefer the broad, fraternal intercourse of dormitory and campus to the more limited friendship of the chapter-house. It is true we have our social clubs, with their club-houses. In some respects they resemble the chapter-house, but only in a faint degree. The secrecy and the partizanship of the fraternity is wanting, and we may safely trust the genius of our institutions and the courtesy and public spirit of the club-men to keep them from making any fracture in the unity of class or college.^ The fraternity, as an agent of social life and of recreation and amusement, helps to make the contrast between the life of the modern college student and the life of the university student of the middle ages significant. The life of the ideal student of the middle ages v^^as a life of few com- forts. It was essentially a monastic life. Amuse- 1 G. E. Wallace, " Princeton Sketches," p. 196. 107 special Conditions and ments were largely prohibited in the feudal society of the middle ages. The military class predom- inated, and tournaments, hunting, and hawking were the popular sports. Such amusements were not adapted to university conditions. The chief amusement of the student of the middle ages seems to have been in the frequent interruption of his work through the holidays of the church or through festivals of patrons who had some relation to the college of which he was a member. The ideal student led a monastic life, but it is pretty certain that the student who was not ideal, but who was inclined to be dissolute, found that the ascetic life provoked wildest indulgences whenever occasion offered. Lawlessness and ruffianism of the severest sort not infrequently prevailed. The maddest pranks of the college student of this century in the United States are very pale and simple compared with some of the ordinary behaviors which are told in the annals of the University of Paris. A word should be said in reference to the oldest and most distinguished of all the fraternities, which still holds a unique place in the annals and life of the American college. The Phi Beta Kappa was the first society bearing the symbolic Greek letters. It was founded at the College of William and Mary in 1776. Its origin is more or less in doubt, but through more than a hundred years it has held a distinguished and honorable place among college organizations and in college life. It is now coming to stand essentially as an association of scholars. io8 Methods of Administration The best scholars of each junior and senior class in a college in which a chapter is organized usually constitute its members. It stands more distinctly as an association of men who as undergraduates have manifested scholarly ability than any other institution in the life of the century. 109 V THE GOVERNMENT OF STUDENTS i V THE GOVERNMENT OF STUDENTS THE history of the government of the students in American colleges is a history of increas- ing liberality and orderliness. The government of the colonial period was of a kind like the civil government. It was minute in its inspection of students, and severe in its punishments. It was in order at Harvard College, at or about 1674, for the President or the Fellows to punish recreant students either by fine or by whipping, as the nature of their offenses should require. Each case was to be represented, in case of a pecuniary amount, by a fine not to exceed ten shillings, or, if corporal punishment were the penalty, by ten stripes. This whipping, too, was to be done openly. Judge Sewall, in his diary, says that in 1674 a student was publicly whipped for speaking blas- phemous words. In addition to this castigation he was suspended from taking his bachelor's degree, and suffered also certain other evil consequences. The execution of the sentence was quite as char- acteristic as its nature. The sentence was read twice publicly in the library, in the presence of all 8 113 The Government of Students the students and representatives of the govern- ment. The offender knelt, the President prayed, and the blows were laid on. The services were closed with another prayer by the President. Gradually corporal punishment passed out of use, but it was near the beginning of the last century when this form of penalty ceased.^ The offenses against college laws and procedure were of various sorts, and related in a far more intimate degree to personal character and behavior than would now be suffered. In the first third of the last century the students were subjected to a close inspection by their tutors. Tutors are di- rected to see that the students retire early to their chambers on Saturday evening, and they are also commanded to quicken the diligence of the stu- dents through visiting their rooms in daytime and in study hours and at night after nine o'clock. Special mention is also made in the laws of the time of certain habits which are supposed now not to demand special prohibition. For instance, mention is made of profane swearing, cursing, tak- ing the name of God in vain, light behavior, play- ing or sleeping at public worship or at prayers. Such offenses as breaking open chambers, studies, letters, desks, chests, or any place under lock and key, or having picklocks, are specially con- demned. Examples of the infliction of punish- ment for the infraction of these laws abound. On November 4, 1717, three scholars of Harvard College were publicly admonished for chewing to- 1 Quincy, " History of Harvard University," Vol. I, pp. 189, 513. 114 The Government of Students bacco, and one was degraded in his class because lie had been publicly admonished for card-playing. The o:ffense of some others was the not uncommon one, possibly, among college students of that time, of stealing poultry. The oifenders were obliged to stand in the middle of the hall, in the presence of their associates. The crime with which they were charged was first declared, and then it was explained to them as against the law of God and of the commonwealth. They were admonished to consider its nature and tendency, and were warned to desist from the continuance of their practices. They were then fined and ordered to restore two- fold of that which they had stolen. Throughout this period, not only at the oldest, but at all the American colleges, down even to the middle of the present century, a system of pecu- niary fines represented the most popular method of securing good order among college students. The list of these fines, together with their amounts and the offenses which they represent, conveys a fairly good conception of the elements that went to make up the college life of American students for two hundred years. It is worth while to copy the list, long as it is : ^ £ s. d. Absence from prayers 002 1 4 2 3 9 Tardiness at prayers Absence from professor's public lectiire Tardiness at professor's public lecture . Profanation of Lord's Day, not exceeding Absence from public worship .... 1 Qumey, "History of Harvard University," Vol. H, pp. 499, 500 115 The Government of students £ s. d. Tardiness at public worship 3 111 behavior at public worship, not exceeding .016 Going to meeting before bell-ringing .... 6 Neglecting to repeat the sermon 9 Irreverent behavior at prayers or public divinity lectures 016 Absence from chambers, etc., not exceeding .,006 Not declaiming, not exceeding 16 Not giving up a declamation, not exceeding ..016 Absence from recitation, not exceeding ... 1 6 Neglecting analysis, not exceeding 3 Bachelors neglecting disputations, not exceeding 16 Respondents neglecting disputations, from Is. Qd. to 3 Undergraduates out of town without leave, not exceeding 026 Undergraduates tarrying out of town without leave, not exceeding per diem 13 Undergraduates tarrying out of town one week without leave, not exceeding 10 Undergraduates tarrying out of town one month without leave, not exceeding 2 10 Lodging strangers without leave, not exceeding 16 Entertaining persons of ill character, not exceed- ing ..016 Going out of college without proper garb, not exceeding 006 Frequenting taverns, not exceeding 16 Profane cursing, not exceeding 2 6 Graduates playing cards, not exceeding ... 5 Undergraduates playing cards, not exceeding .026 Undergraduates playing any game for money, not exceeding 016 Selling and exchanging without leave, not ex- ceeding 016 ii6 The Government ofSUtdents £ s. d. Lying, not exceeding 016 Opening doors by picklocks, not exceeding ,.050 Drunkenness, not exceeding .016 Liquors prohibited under penalty, not exceeding 16 Second offense, not exceeding 3 Keeping prohibited liquors, not exceeding . . 1 G Sending for prohibited liquors 6 Fetching prohibited liquors 16 Going upon the top of the college 16 Cutting off the lead 016 Concealing the transgression of the 19th law .016 Tumultuous noises 016 Second offense 030 Refusing to give evidence 3 Rudeness at meals 010 Butler and cook to keep utensils clean, not ex- ceeding 050 Not lodging in their chambers, not exceeding .016 Sending freshmen in study time 9 Keeping guns and going on skating 10 Firing guns or pistols in college yard .... 2 6 Fighting or hurting any person, not exceeding .016 But Harvard was only one of many colleges that adopted this system for a time. At Amherst, as late as the administration of President Humphrey, which closed in 1844, an elaborate system of fines was in vogue. Fines were imposed for the offenses of bathing in study hours, for playing on a musi- cal instrument, for firing a gun in or near the col- lege buildings or grounds, or for attending any village church without permission. In fact, both, in Amherst and in other colleges, fines seem to have been regarded as the one means for doing 117 The Government of students away with all college evils. The students were not the only sufferers, for — at Amherst, at least — any member of the Faculty who failed each working-day to visit the rooms which were as- signed to him for his/parochial visitations, suffered a mulct of fifty cents .1 It does not become us to criticize rashly the methods or condemn the principles of the colleges of a hundred or two hundred years ago. The principles upon which these colleges rested were as sound as the principles upon which these same colleges now rest. In fact, the principles have re- mained substantially unchanged, and it is possible that the methods of government of two hundred years ago or of the last century were good methods for the conditions that then existed. But down to very recent years, it must be confessed, the methods which have prevailed in the government of stu- dents have proved to be, on the whole, lamentable failures. In the history of the government of American colleges in the last hundred years, what are known as "college rebellions" have a somewhat conspic- uous place. Although the college rebellion has now largely passed away, yet for a century it has in most colleges, at certain periods, played a very significant part. The college student usually has a pretty keen sense of what we may call " natural rights." He also has a pretty keen sense of what we may call " prescribed rights." What belongs to him by reason of his being a human being, and 1 Tyler, " History of Amherst College," pp. 81, 82. 118 The Government of Students what belongs to him by reason of his standing in a series of college men and a succession of college classes, he is inclined to appreciate at its full value. Whatever actions of the Faculty lessen his natural rights, or any infringement upon what his pre- decessors were supposed to have enjoyed in pre- scription, he is inclined to resist. It is also to be said that a college Faculty does not appreciate the natural or the prescribed rights of the students at the same value that the students appreciate them. The faculties are not inclined to hold the honor of the students so high or to feel so sensitive as the students themselves. Perhaps, also, faculties can- not always be so considerate of the limitations or demands, either wise or unwise, of the great body of the students as they ought to be. It is also to be recognized that students usually stand together. If any one of their number is treated unjustly by the Faculty, the whole body of the students is in- clined to rally about him, and to give him aid and comfort. Out of such conditions have grown college re- bellions. Among the more conspicuous of the college rebellions of the present century and of the last years of the last century are the Rebel- lions of 1768 and of 1807 at Harvard College ; the Rebellion of 1808 at Williams; the Bread and Butter Rebellion of 1828 at Yale, and the Conic Sections Rebellion of 1830, also at Yale ; the Re- bellion of 1836 at the University of Virginia ; the Rebellions of 1837, of 1845, and of 1848, at the Uni- versity of Alabama ; and the Rebellion of 1868 at 119 The Government of Students Williams College. There are, of course, other re- bellions in other colleges, but these may be re- garded as representative. In the year 1768 occurred at Harvard the most serious resistance to the college authorities in the hundred and thirty years of the life of the college. Of course, rebellion was in the air. As the people were passing acts against the British Parliament, their sons were passing acts against the Harvard Faculty. In such a condition a slight offense may be sufficient for arousing collegiate patriotism. It was announced to the sons of the colonial patriots that all excuses for absence from the college exer- cises must be offered before the absence occurred. Under this provocation the students assembled under a tree which they called the " Tree of Lib- erty," and voted their dissent. Several of those who were concerned in this resistance were ex- pelled. The senior class asked the President to dismiss them to Yale, and the three other classes also asked to be dismissed. But this rebellion was not pushed to a further extent. The senior and the other classes remained at Harvard, and there received their degrees. The Bread and Butter Eebellion at Yale in 1828 is representative of the difficulties which a college finds in setting forth board for its students. Stu- dents, like all persons not living at their own homes, are inclined to be dissatisfied with the food spread before them, and, not following the Scriptural injunction, are inclined to ask questions and even to make affirmations as well as interroga- I20 The Government of Students tions. In the summer of 1828, at Yale College, much complaint was made of the food provided by the college steward. Representations of dissat- isfaction were formally offered by representatives of each of the three lower classes ; but these repre- sentations did not secure any improvement. At last the condition became so strained that the whole body of the students agreed that they would not continue at the Commons until the changes they requested should be made. A committee was appointed to inform the Faculty of the decision. The committee called upon President Day, and were informed that no attention whatsoever would be paid to their complaints thus submitted, as they were in a state of rebellion, but, should they lay down their arms, the matter of the complaint would be considered. A meeting of the whole body of the students followed, by which it was declared in their behalf that they had repeatedly made complaint of their grievances to the Faculty, and had been promised relief, but these promises had not been kept. They could not get relief with satisfaction to their dignity or self-respect. They therefore reaffirmed their refusal to return to the Commons. The next day four students who had made themselves especially obnoxious were sum- moned before the Faculty and asked if they would submit to the rules of the college and go into the Commons. They declined and were expelled. Ex- citement had now reached its climax. The four men expelled became martyrs. A meeting was held in the open air on what is now Hillhouse 121 The Government of Students Avenue, at ■which a valedictory oration was pro- nounced by one of the four men who had been expelled, and other exercises of a somewhat touch- ing and ridiculous nature were held. A proces- sion was formed, which moved to the college green, and in the darkness of night, falling on the turf with hands joined, the students sang a parting hymn to the tune of " Auld Lang Syne." The next day the college assumed an unusual quietness, for only a handful of the students re- mained. In this rebellion, however, as in most, division means conquest. A few days spent at home with one's parents are usually sufficient to dull the edge of collegiate patriotism. Most of the men were soon ready to apply for re-admission to the college. The Faculty caused it to be known that the four men who had been expelled would not be accepted on any terms, but that others might return in case they would acknowledge their fault and sign pledges that they would hence- forth obey college rules. Under these conditions nearly all who had been concerned in the rebellion returned. This, the Bread and Butter Rebellion, was, how- ever, far less serious than the Conic Sections Re- bellion of two years later. This rebellion, the most serious that has arisen in Yale College, had its origin in the unwillingness of the Faculty to grant a petition of the sophomore class in reference to the method of reciting in conic sections. They asked that they be allowed to explain conic sec- tions from the book, and not demonstrate them 122 The Government of Students from the figures. When this petition was refused a certain portion of the class refused to recite in the manner required. It became apparent that there was a combination upon the part of a portion of the class to oppose the laws of the Faculty. Pres- ently a paper was sent to the Faculty, signed and approved of by no less than forty-nine members of the class, in which they declared that they would not recite in the way desired by the Faculty. Soon another paper was submitted to the governing board, in which it was said that their resolution was taken, they would not retract, and they would not obey any summons to appear before the Fac- ulty. Upon such an inflammatory and rebellious statement, the Faculty at once expelled forty-four members of the class. Such a summary and whole- sale dealing was a surprise to the men themselves, and was possibly a surprise to other colleges in the United States. But the issue was of such impor- tance that other colleges refused to receive any one of these forty-four men, with a few exceptions. This disastrous termination of the Conic Sections Rebellion put a stop to all concerted action on the part of students against the governing bodies. It is seldom that college rebellions have resulted in the loss of life. I recall no such instance in the North, but two or three such instances do occur in the colleges of the South ; for in the earlier years society in the South was such that it the more easily lent itself to the severer forms of resistance. Students are largely influenced by their environ- ment. The civilization of States like Alabama and 123 The Government of students Mississippi was of a frontier type. A large part of the white people had not learned to submit to the restraints of law. The sons of the pioneers were restless under college government, and were inclined to secure satisfaction, at their own hands, of any college officer who may have offended them. Possibly as serious as any of these college rebel- lions was that of 1836 in the University of Virginia. A severe infringement of college rules had occurred, leading to the summary dismissal of no less than seventy of the students. The ground of this ac- tion was that the students had possessed them- selves of fire-arms, and had avowed a determination of holding their arms notwithstanding the prohibi- tion of the Faculty. It also appeared that the students had combined into an association called the "University Volunteers," in order to bring and to hold arms within the precincts of the uni- versity. After certain conferences the University Volunteers decided to resist the college authorities. On the second night after the refusal of the com- pany to assent to the rules of the university, the discharge of muskets on the lawn was constant, and also there occurred what possibly might be called a riot. The houses of the professors were attacked, the doors of these houses forced open, blinds and windows broken, and there was some reason to believe that a purpose of attempting per- sonal violence was entertained. Professor Davis of the Faculty, four years after this riot, was shot down and killed in front of the door of his house 124 The Government of Students by a student who was celebrating the anniversary of its occurrence. The student was disguised and masked, and was firing a pistol on the lawn. See- ing Mr. Davis, he retired a few paces, and then deliberately shot him. It appeared that the stu- dent had no particular dislike for Professor Davis, but he had determined, as it became evident, to shoot any professor who tried to discover him while engaged in this act of celebration. Such forced opposition to the rules of a college Faculty has seldom been witnessed. However, in the University of Alabama, as I have intimated, such antagonism was evident in the fourth, fifth, and sixth decades of this century. In one of these affrays — which was rather an affair existing among the students— one of the students was shot. The last of the rebellions to which I shall allude occurred in Williams College in 1868. The occa- sion was slight, as is not infrequently the char- acter of the occasions of college rebellions. It was the passing of the following rule : " Each ab- sence from any recitation, whether at the begin- ning of or during the term, whether excused or unexcused, will count as zero in the record of stand- ing. In cases, however, in which attendance shall be shown by the student to have been impossible, each officer shall have the option of allowing the recitation to be made up at such time as he shall appoint ; and no mark shall be given to such reci- tation, unless it shall amount to a substantial per- formance of the work omitted." To this rule the students took the most serious 125 The Government of SttLdents oif ense, and presently the entire college assembled, adopted the following preamble and resolutions : Whereas, The Faculty of Williams College have im- posed upon us, students of said college, a rule that " Each absence from any recitation, whether at the beginning of or during the term, whether excused or unexcused, will count as zero in the record of standing. In cases, how- ever, in which attendance shall be shown to have been impossible, each officer shall have the option of allowing the recitation to be made up at such time as he shall ap- point ; and no mark shall be given to such recitation, un- less it shall amount to a substantial performance of the work omitted " ; and Whereas, We, students of said Williams College, re- gard the imposition of this rule as a blow aimed at our personal honor and manhood ; and Whereas, Our petition presented to the Faculty of said Williams College, November 6, 1868, for the repeal of the above-mentioned rule, has been disregarded ; therefore Eesolved, That we, students of said Williams College, declare our connection with said college to cease from this date, until the authorities of said college shall repeal the above-mentioned rule. The following resolution was also unanimously adopted : Resolved, That we, as a body of young men, agree to remain in this neighborhood, and abstain from all ob- jectionable conduct, until the final settlement of our difficulties. Presently the Faculty made a statement through the newspapers and also a statement to the parents of each of the students. 126 The Government of Students Dr. Hopkins at once set himself to removing the antagonism. In the first place, he made clear to the students that their resolutions declaring their connection with the college at an end was not tenable. No student could thus dissolve his asso- ciation with the college. The students were there- fore members of Williams College. He also made it clear that the Faculty rules the institution, and that they must rule it, and that any combination against its authority was contradictory to the pledge which each man made at his matriculation. President Hopkins also, through personal inter- views with students, made it appear that certain elements of the resolution to which they objected did not have his approval. This statement pos- sibly had great influence with the students. In this rebellion, as in all rebellions, time gave oppor- tunity for receiving letters from home. These letters are usually — if not invariably — in favor of the students obeying the rules and heeding the requests of the college of&cers. Presently an im- pression began to prevail in the college among some of the men that they had made a mistake in resisting the rule. Soon regular recitations were appointed, and the students found themselves in attendance. The rule was afterward modified slightly, and, be it said, not a student left the col- lege because of the adoption of the rule itself. After five days of interruption order was restored.^ The rebellion has now quite wholly disappeared from the ordinary life of the American college ; for 1 Carter, "Mark Hopkins," pp. 79-98. 127 The Government of Students the conditions out of which the rebellion usually grows have, on the whole, been eliminated. The body of the teachers and the body of the students do not now stand, as they stood sixty years ago, at points of antagonism. The Faculty of a college is usually eager to suffer as few points of collision as possible between themselves and the students. The college laws have also become far less numer- ous and far less personal than of old. The general college law is that each man shall be a gentleman. If he prove himself not to be a gentleman, he is usually asked to retire from the college. The col- lege officers, also, are more inclined to put them- selves in the place of the student. They have become sympathetic with the great undergraduate body. This oneness of heart is illustrated in the reply made by one who is now a college President to the question whether he would accept a college presidency. " I will accept," he said, " if you let me go in swimming with the boys every day." College officers feel that the interests of the students a,re their own interests. Therefore, if laws either scholastic or personal are made, explanations re- garding the reasons for making these laws and also regarding their nature are easily and naturally suggested to the students. The rights of the stu- dents, natural or prescribed, are more honored. It is possible that rebellions will still spring up in American colleges. They arise out of conditions which occasionally may obtain, in case college officers are not wise, or in case students are un- reasonable. But the conditions are exceptional 128 The Government of Students and rare in which, in a well-constituted and well- governed American college, a general rebellion of the students against the order and discipline of the college is possible. For the government of the students in American colleges has undergone a revolution in the last half- century. Students are no longer made the objects of such inquisitorial investigations as were the earlier students at Princeton or at Harvard. As these inquisitorial investigations have lessened, the students themselves have responded to the greater trust reposed in themselves. The American col- lege community is now as orderly a part of the community, under common conditions, as it could be expected to be. The men themselves are— with occasional lapses, be it said — as self-respecting as any part of the whole community. The cause of these changes is manifest. The cause most evident, although not the most funda- mental, is the change in the methods of the college officers in treating the students. These changes in method are best set forth in the address which President Nott of Union College made on the oc- casion of the celebration of the semi-centennial of his becoming President. These changes are also illustrated in his own career as an executive in Union College. In the first years of this century in the government of Union College, the Faculty met as a court, summoned offenders, examined wit- nesses, and passed judgments with all the formality of a civil tribunal. Such a method President Nott felt was wrong in principle and unwise in method. 9 129 The Government of Students Once one of the professors came to an issue with one of the students on so simple a question as the right of the student to illuminate his room on a special occasion. The student would not accede to the wish of the professor, and he was accordingly expelled. The father of the boy appealed to the Board of Trustees to set aside the sentence, and after a discussion of half a year, with many accom- panying disturbances, the student was restored to his place in the college. It was at this time Presi- dent Nott determined that such methods should cease. He decided to adjust the government of the college to the age, temperament, and conditions of the students. Whenever any student was found offending in conduct or delinquent in his studies, he was treated as a child would be treated by his father in similar conditions. His most intimate companions were urged to take an interest in his welfare ; if he were a member of a society, that so- ciety was asked to bring all its influence to bear upon him. Moral and religious interests, sense of honor, were the motives and conditions that were used to aid students to be gentlemen. It is prob- able that President Nott has had a larger and more renowned success in managing students for the larger part of his career than any other college President has ever had. But the conditions that he found valuable throughout his conspicuous and prolonged career represent the method that is now prevailing among American colleges. Two theories of the relation of the American col- lege to its students do yet obtain. One theory is 130 The Government of Students that the college is a family — that the college officers stand in the place of the parent, and the college student in the place of the son. As becomes the parent, it is therefore the duty of the college officer to maintain watch and ward over each student. The college is not, of course, a family, but even if it is not, in the opinion of those who believe in this system, the results that are secured in the family should be secured in the college. In the place of any lack is substituted a system of rules and regulations. These rules and regulations are supposed to take the place in the college of what the family gives through its various personal ministries. A second system of government is the very opposite of the domestic ; it is a system that is distinguished by its want of government. The college has no relation to the personal character or personal relations of the student; the college is concerned only with the giving of instruction, as the student in his function of a student is concerned only with his capacity for receiving instruction. These two systems seldom exist in the naked and bald form in which I outline them, but, as theories, they obtain to a greater or less extent. Between these two theories are to be found many practical modifications of them. The emphasis is sometimes placed upon the domestic side, and sometimes upon the side of freedom ; and in the same college at varying periods the emphasis varies. In the discussion of these correlated theories at least four questions emerge : (1) Are American stu- 131 The Government of Students dents old enough to determine and to guide their conduct ? (2) Should the college attempt to control the private and personal life of students? (3) Should the college demand of students conduct which their homes do not demand? And (4) is there any method by which even a small minority of college students can be saved from going to the bad? The age of men entering the ordinary American college is now about eighteen and a half years. It varies, of course, in different colleges, and also in the same college at different periods. This age has in the course of the present century increased. The average age of the members of the freshman class of Adelbert College of Western Eeserve Uni- versity entering in the fall of 1899 was about nine- teen. At the present time, however, through better methods of education prevailing in the secondary schools, the age is in many colleges lessening; but eighteen years and a half is still the average age of the collegian beginning his course. Is a student, therefore, of an age from eighteen to twenty-two years sufficiently mature to be left to himself in all matters of conduct? Is he fitted to work out his character without super- vision or aid of any kind from the officers of the college ? It is certainly true that some men are fitted to perform this most serious and happy task; some men of these years are as mature as other men are at thirty. At eighteen some boys have habits as well formed, both in point of the content of the 132 The Government of Students habit and its fixedness, as others at the age of twenty-five. It is also true that certain boys at the age of eighteen and twenty are as unformed in respect to the fixed application of principles to conduct as others may be at fifteen or even twelve. A friend of mine writes to me, saying : " In general, College did not do its duty by me. It took me at sixteen out of a quiet home in a remote town, and gave me no affectionate personal supervision of the older-brotherly sort, and not even effective surveillance of the schoolmaster kind. I think the active, personal interest then of a good college professor might have expedited my eventual de- velopment at least five years. My own and my friend's principles were not established ; we squan- dered time atrociously, though not in vice, beyond whist and a little beer ; had no regular habits in work and in play ; and, in general, were negligent and neglected children." The man who now writes these words is a conspicuous author, and he writes them after more than twenty years' absence from the college in which he was a student. Another, who also was a student in the same college and at the same time, writes : " The average student in my day was quite as much controlled by principle as the average man of the world — more under such control, I think. I doubt if more stringent regu- lations than existed would have secured better results." The degree of maturity which is found in college students depends to a large extent upon whether they were fitted in high schools and lived in their ^33 The Government of Students own homes during the time of preparation, or whether they were fitted in academies away from their homes. In certain colleges a large propor- tion of the students come from high schools ; in other colleges a large percentage come from acade- mies which are in corporate association with the colleges themselves ; and in other colleges a large proportion come from independent academies. In the twenty years between 1866 and 1885 there entered Harvard College from the public schools about twenty-nine per cent, of the members of each freshman class: from 1866 to 1869 it was thirty per cent.; from 1870 to 1873, thirty-three per cent. ; from 1874 to 1877, twenty-nine per cent. ; from 1878 to 1881, thirty-one per cent. ; and from 1882 to 1885, twenty-six per cent. About the same proportion entered from endowed schools, such as the Phillips academies, and the balance from private tuition and from other col- leges. Students who enter our colleges from en- dowed schools are usually fitted to regulate their own conduct, but those who find their first absence from home contemporaneous with their entrance to college — who, in other words, while pursuing their preparatory course live at home — should not at once be given absolute and entire freedom ; or, if this is given to them, it should be given to them under such personal or semi-official conditions as to cause them to feel the restraining inspiration of friendship. Every man who enters Yale College at once feels the difference in maturity between his classmates who enter from the Hopkins Grrammar 134 The Government of Students School and those who come from Andover and Exeter. The truth, therefore, seems to be that some boys are old enough on entering college to be left to themselves, and some boys are not. The general truth is that those who enter college are neither boys, as some say they are, nor are they men, as others also affirm, but that they are young men: certain characteristics of boyhood still are theirs, and certain characteristics of manhood are also theirs; from the condition of boyhood they rapidly emerge, and as fast enter the condition of manhood. It becomes evident, therefore, that in certain cases it is the right, even if not the duty, for the college to control the private life of students. It is also evident that in certain cases it is not expe- dient for the college to attempt any such direction. But it may be safely said that the college as a college is deeply interested in the private life of each of its students, for the college desires that each student shall secure the noblest, richest, and best results from his college course. Therefore nothing can be foreign to the interest of the college which concerns the interest of its students. The only question for the college to consider is the general question, by what ways and means can it best influence the private life of each man who is committed to it for four years ? It may be said, I think, that students at once are rebellious against the control of their private life by the college au- thorities, and are also hospitable to all general influences of the college that look to the formation U5 The Government of Students of their best character. Students wish to be helped ; students do not wish to be commanded; they are open to influence and not to control; personality rather than law represents the wise method. Not a few American colleges are subject to a difficult condition in respect to the control of their students. American education has not as yet fully and exactly articulated itself. In most, but not all, of the universities which attempt to give grad- uate instruction, the department of graduate in- struction and the undergraduate department are very closely related. Graduate students are usu- ally found in undergraduate classes, and certain undergraduate students are frequently found in classes designed primarily for graduates them- selves. This condition obtains both in Cambridge and in New Haven. On the other hand, most American colleges have in very close association with themselves a preparatory department. Even if there be a formal division made between the work of these two departments, the same general influences control the students of both depart- ments. Frequently, too, the students in the two departments recite in the same classes. Graduate students represent a degree of maturity and worthy self -direction which undergraduates do not possess, and undergraduate students represent a degree of self-control which preparatory students can lay no claim to. When these two classes of students, the graduate and the undergraduate, are placed under the same general conditions, it is difficult to subject them to the same general control, and also, when 136 The Government of Students undergraduate students and preparatory students are found to be in the same institution, it is dif- ficult to ask them to obey the same set of rules. But the necessity is laid upon the officers of insti- tutions which are thus placed with these duplex relationships to ask students of varying degrees of maturity and of immaturity to submit to the same governing principles and methods. The fact is that those principles and methods which are fitted for the less mature set of students are those which ought to prevail. College authorities usually think it is better to subject undergraduate students to the same conditions which preparatory students ought to submit to than to give to preparatory students that freedom which undergraduate stu- dents may properly enjoy. With the increasing differentiation prevailing in American education, this difficulty, however, is sure to lessen. At once I wish to say that the best method of guiding the personal morals of a student is through making constant and severe intellectual demands upon him : hard work is an enemy to easy morals. Professional schools attempt only indirectly to in- fluence the personal character of their students, but the officers of such schools usually believe that the most effective method of aiding the students to maintain uprightness in conduct is by maintaining high scholastic standards. Such a method should control in the undergraduate college. The man who works hard in college, who is required to de- vote eight or ten hours a day to the performance of his academic tasks, has usually little time for 137 The Government of students evil indulgences, or, if he have time, has little strength, or, if he have strength, has little incli- nation ; and the man who lacks time, strength, and inclination for base indulgences is quite sure of being free from them. The question of whether attendance upon recitations shall be voluntary, or whether the set of rules in a college shall be strict or exact, is a minor question in relation to the necessity of making severe intellectual require- ments. In addition to the aid which the necessity of hard work gives in the securing of fine personal morality, every college should recognize that the personal relation of professors to students and the great student body is of primary value. The impor- tance of this relation is becoming more and more conspicuous; the so-called "Advisers" at Har- vard represent and embody this method. The nickname of "nurses," which is given among the students to advisers, embodies in essence the idea of the personal relationship. One of the of- ficers of the college writes to me in reference to this system, saying : " The more I see of personal work among students the greater I believe its power to be. The only drawback is the shortness of life and the necessity that an instructor should have some time for study." The first duty of the teacher m the American college is to teach; the second duty of the professor in the American college is to teach; failure in teaching is fundamental, but, when the professor has taught, he has not finished his duty : he is still to give himself to his students 138 The Government of Students in such, ways as lie deems fitting as a person in order to help them to become better persons. As a part of this general relationship of the col- lege the relation of the students to each other is not to be so easily passed over, as it has often been, for older students may be of the greatest help to the younger. The influence of college stu- dent over college student is frequently of greater value than the influence of college professor over college student. We recognize the value of influ- ence toward evil ; the value of the influence of the student toward good may be equally strong. Stu- dents, like professors, who have the qualities of a strong personality united with tact, patience, and enthusiasm, may be of the utmost worth in helping their associates to the best life. College officers themselves, as well as graduates of many years' standing, believe that it is com- paratively useless to attempt to control by rules and regulations the conduct of college students; but it is evident that through personal influence they may control the conduct and form the char- acter of students. Upon this point I have recently read scores of letters from graduates of long stand- ing and from college officers. One of them, the chairman of the Faculty of an old and conspicuous university, says: In my college days, which were passed at Hampden Sidney College, Virginia, and at the University from 1868 to 1873, the control exercised by the officers of dis- cipline was mainly through influence rather than through U9 The Government of Students authority. There was never any espionage, but we were trusted to do what we knew to be right, and the sole effec- tive cheek upon bad habits was found in the test offered by the college work. I believed then, and believe now, that it is not only wise but necessary to leave the college student to govern himself. Some will fall into error, some into vice, but it is a time in the life of a young man when his character needs the very discipline that is offered by this reliance upon his own powers of self-control. If at this period students are kept under constant surveillance, their char- acters are likely to be permanently distorted. All that can be done and ought to be done is to bring every salu- tary and uplifting influence to bear upon the student life, to offer legitimate and wholesome amusements as rivals of those that are unhealthy and illicit, to encourage among the young men a feeling of personal pride and honor and self-respecting uprightness, to establish a public opinion among the students which frowns upon gross vice and all forms of dishonorable action ; in other words, to make the college career in this way a moral gymnastic, and create out of the college student a worthy, honest, upright citizen. Another, a graduate of the University of Michi- gan, and a lawyer, writes : It was my fortune to spend two years in a New Eng- land college having about two hundred students, and to enter Michigan University at the beginning of my junior year. At the former institution students were subjected to a close watch— tutors and professors rooming in the same dormitories with the pupils, the attendance upon chapel and church being reported by monitors. Notwith- standing this oversight, or on account of it, no opportu- *" 140 The Government of Students nity was lost on the part of tlie boys of giving vent to their animal spirits. Half-dressed attendance at early chapel, and summer nights made hideous by the horn- blowing of ghost-clad boys on the roofs of the dormi- tories, together with the dangerous practice of hazing, often accompanied by a rain of stones like a hail-storm, demolishing scores of panes of glass, remain as vivid pic- tures in my mental gallery. Upon entering the University of Michigan I found there were no dormitories ; the marking system had been abolished; there were no class honors or rivalries for prizes. But what was entirely new to me was an intel- lectual atmosphere and the spirit of earnest work that pervaded the university town, and this gives me an op- portunity to write, in a general way, upon the govern- ment of college students. Our President and Faculty succeeded in interesting the students in their work ; the numbers were large, and there was a strong current in the direction of earnest appli- cation which seemed to carry every one with it. A num- ber of our professors were making discoveries and original investigations, and were publishing books upon their vari- ous specialties. The works on spherical trigonometry and calculus that were afterward published by Professor Olney were used in manuscript in our class and in the form of lectures. It is unnecessary to say that there were no ponies or diminutive books on shirt-cuffs. Pro- fessor Watson was frequently "bagging an asteroid." Professor Cocker's " Christianity and Greek Philosophy " was just out, and placed as a text-book in the hands of the senior class, and Cooley's " Constitutional Limitations " was giving him and the University a name on both sides of the ocean. In other words, the University was not con- ducted as a military post, where boys were instructed to do some definite things and continually warned not to do other 141 The Government of Students specific things, but all alike, Faculty and students, seemed to be under the same law and striving for a common ob- ject. The moral as well as the intellectual life of the students was on a much higher plane than at the college which was governed by stricter rules. Another, a physician in St. Paul, writes : Last summer I was in Cambridge for a week ; I roomed in the college buildings and took my meals in Memo- rial Hall. It was the week of Class Day, when nearly aU the college students had finished their college duties j and if the devil finds work for idle hands, here was a first- class opportunity. During that week I failed to see a single act that the most critical observer could censure. A few days later I was for a few hours at another insti- tution, noted for its strictness, and I confess I saw a good deal of rowdyism. Harvard has practically no laws ; the other has a statute-book full of them. I think I may be regarded as an impartial observer, for I am not a gradu- ate of either of the colleges that I have mentioned. Such, testimonies I might greatly multiply, but all such testimonies would be evidence to prove this point — that it is useless for the American college to attempt to control conduct by rules ; it is worse than useless ; and, further, it is of abound- ing value in the American college to attempt to control conduct and to form character through personal relationships and through the necessity of hard work. A further question arising out of the general subject relates to whether the college has the right to demand personal conduct of students which the 142 The Government of Students homes from which students come, and to which they still belong, though in college, do not demand. It may be at once said that the college has the right, abstract and absolute, to make any demand which it sees fit to make. The college is usually a private corporation, although in certain large relations it is a public trust, and therefore it may do whatsoever seemeth to itself good. But a col- lege never interprets its rights in such a hard-and- fast way. It holds its powers in trust for the people, and it wishes to use its powers so that the good of the people may be promoted. Yet the president of one college writes to me defining the right of the college to exact from students, in the matter of drinking, for instance, conduct not required in their homes, on the grounds (1) that a college ought to have a higher standard of life than many homes; (2) that college life is beset by special temptations; and (3) that in their homes young men are surrounded by older friends and little children. They are to be compared to grains of powder scattered through a barrel of sawdust, and in college the inflammable material is sifted out from the community and put by it- self, so that special vigilance is required to prevent excess. A graduate of Amherst, himself a distin- guished clergyman of the Congregational Church, writes : " No college can afford to lower its moral requirements to please anybody, and it cannot afford to imperil its students by allowing any who followed evil practices at home to indulge in them during their college life." Another graduate also 143 The Government of Students writes in a bold spirit that "the college has the right to demand of students, in the matter of drinking, for instance, conduct not required in the home, if the college has, or proposes to have, any character itself. If the student smokes, drinks, or swears at home, a fortiori, he ought to be taught better in college." A professor in a New England college says : I think the deterioration in college life is due to the change in the commnnity. Cards and spreads were not countenanced in old times, and the same was true of danc- ing, smoking, and social evils. I believe cards hurt our students worse than aU else put together, but even the ministers of to-day are experts at whist, certainly the pro- fessors. The country is wealthy, and it is the rich people that bring these evils upon us. It is not that I consider cards, dancing, and smoking wrong, but they take away interest in study. You cannot prohibit them : you must rely upon moral suasion. Do not appoint professors who think more of these things than of their studies. En- courage Y. M. C. A. and healthful exercise. Another graduate, who is at the head of one of the missionary boards of one of the great churches, says: If the conduct of a student is such as to affect unhap- pily the character of the college, I should say that the coUege had the right by all means to exact from that student different conduct, whatever his home life may be. I feel that our colleges should show a life and character with more sinew than can be found in a great many of our homes. 144 The Government of students Further testimoiiy is derived also frora another graduate of Amherst College, who is also at the head of one of the great home missionary organi- zations : I should hold the opinion that the college has the right to require of students conduct which may not be de- manded in their homes in so far as the welfare of the college seems to demand it. There are habits which may be allowed in the home, with the home influences around the boy, which may not be allowed with safety in college when the boy is out from under the watch and care of parents. But, on the other side, it is said that colleges have no right to exact from their students conduct which their homes do not demand. The judge of the Probate Court and Court of Insolvency of one of the large counties of Massachusetts writes : Colleges should not exact total abstinence from drink- ing, smoking, card-playing, dancing, and other things not wrong per se. The professor of hygiene may lecture on the evils of excess in any of these habits, but the coUege should not interfere unless such habits prevent the stu- dent's attaining the minimum standard of scholarship and deportment. A professor in a divinity school says : I think that the college has the right to have its own standard of personal conduct, irrespective of the home habits of students ; but I should hesitate to make that a punishable offense which in the best (morally best) society was looked upon as a thoroughly innocent indulgence. 10 H5 The Government ofSUidents The expressed wish of a parent in such matters would seem to be entitled to some consideration. When I was a member of the Faculty of Antioch College, under the presidency of Horace Mann, the habit of profane swear- ing was made a bar to graduation, and card-playing by the students was prohibited ; but Mr. Mann attempted in general the maintenance of a higher ethical standard among his students than has been thought feasible in most other colleges. It must be confessed that in these efforts he was in no small degree successful. A gentleman, himself able and distinguished, and the son and grandson of able and distinguished statesmen, writes upon this point, saying : AH the college has the right to exact from students in the matter of drinking, for example, is a fair degree of temperance and respect for the public. Exceptional cases of disorder should be ruthlessly weeded out. Ex- cept where these cases appear, the students should be allowed to conduct themselves in such way as thej^ see fit. A professor in an eminent law school says : Certain rules as to conduct, e.g., against the keeping of wines or liquors in college rooms, may be permissible, though I think such prohibitions should be established with caution ; but I should think any attempt to denounce as immoral practices which students have been in the habit of seeing indulged in by the persons whom they most respect in the community in which they have lived, such as smoking, drinking, card-playing, however well intended such denunciations be, would be pretty certain to have an evil result. 146 The Government of Students And also a distinguished citizen of Boston, a short time before his death, wrote as follows : Several rules tending to good conduct, as, for example, the forbidding of the use of liquor in college rooms, would seem proper, as showing the opinion and influence of the college on the subject, but in a general way one of the most important objects is to teach the students self- restraint and self-government rather than to make them correct by compulsion. It has been discovered that stu- dents entering from the most precise and closely regu- lated schools are, in the largest proportion, " wild " when they get to college. I have thus at length set forth opposite opinions respecting the right of the college to exact of stu- dents methods of conduct which the home does not demand. The general question, the two sides of which are thus represented through these testimonies, has its quickest application to the question of the use of liquors. Shall the college endeavor to promote total abstinence among its students, or shall it en- deavor to promote temperance ? In other words, shall it, through the practice of its officers, indi- cate that it is well, if they so desire, for men to partake temperately of liquor, or shall it, through the example and practice of its professors, indicate that total abstinence is the only rule for the high- est type of self-respecting gentlemen to follow? Upon this point I can have no question but that the best rule for the American college, through the person of its officers, to set is the example of total abstinence. The primary reason for this 147 The Government of Students judgment lies in the fact that the reputation of a college of the most temperate indulgence in liquor by its officers hurts that college in the judgment of a large body of the American people. That this reputation does hurt the college there can be no doubt. Whether with reason or without rea- son, many homes would decline to send their sons to colleges which did possess this reputation. It is the duty of the officers of a college to see to it that in every possible way the reputation of that col- lege shall be of the worthiest. I was riding, a little while ago, in the smoking- room of a car, when a distinguished gentleman, a professor in a very conspicuous American college, coming into the smoking-room, began his cigar. He at once said to me, " I suppose you do not object to my smoking." Of course I replied in the nega- tive. But he added, " I suppose you do not smoke." I also said I did not, and I inquired, " I am inter- ested to know why you say, ' I suppose you do not smoke.' " His answer was, " I think a college Pres- ident should not smoke." The reasons which would lead my distinguished friend to the opinion that the college President should not smoke would also lead him to think that the college President should not drink. Upon this simple ground of reputation total abstinence should be the rule among the officers of a college. But upon this point a college may prefer to make its own choices. It may prefer to minis- ter only to those who do wish their children to be brought up in the temperate use of liquors. 148 The Government of Students A father is under no compulsion to send a son to any one college. If he wish his boy to be brought up in the temperate use of liquor, it is fitting for him to send his son to a college in which the temperate use of liquor is advised. Let him adjust his boy to the desired college condi- tion, and let the college adjust itself to the desires of parents. In one of our cities before the war was a church in which the minister was accustomed to defend slave-holding. He at once made for himself a constituency, and the constituency sup- ported that minister. In the same way it may be fitting, and much might be said in favor of the proposition, for parents who wish their sons to be brought up in the temperate use of liquor to send them to a college in which this method is re- garded as the best method for the development of character. I suppose it must be said that there is no method by which every boy going to college can be saved from evil. The Author of our being endeavors apparently in every possible way to save men from sin. What the Author of our being has failed to do it is pretty certain the college cannot" succeed in doing. In any system of moral government it is apparently true that some will make evil choices, and must suffer the results of such choices. In any system of college government it is probably true that some will go to the bad ; but these results occurring in the colleges do not at all militate against a free and large treatment of individual students. The divine Author of our being has 149 The Government of Students seen fit to give to us freedom of will and, to a degree, of action, although knowing in advance that some would abuse this freedom and would suffer evil consequences ; but, on the whole, it is apparently the rule to give to men freedom, though knowing that freedom would be to some a very- expensive luxury, rather than to make all pup- pets under His control, even if no harm were to result through such direction. Let the American college believe that its students come to its halls with high purposes, with characters directed to- ward righteousness, eager to learn the truth, sus- ceptible to personal influences, and willing to lend themselves to the best relationships of the college. The life that the students live in such an atmos- phere is the best life itself, and is also the prepara- tion for the best life. With each passing generation the freedom belonging to the American college student in- creases, and it ought to increase. This freedom represents what is by common testimony an ap- parent confession that the college students of to- day are better men than the college students of thirty and forty years ago. A professor in Johns Hopkins University, writing of his own college, Amherst, says : College life nowadays seems to me more healthy than it was in my student days. I ascribe the fact to the gradual blending of student life with a larger social life, which is always saner and sounder than that of monastic communities and college halls, where young men are thought to he secluded from the world. Old-time college 150 The Government of Students life was barbaric and uncivilized compared witli that of the outside world. The sooner students are taught to be citizens and members of society the better it will be for colleges and for the country. I think the highest type of education is to be found only in a city university, where the student is in the world, but not of it. The country college is perhaps better for boys and for ath- letics, but country seclusion is by no means an ideal con- dition for student morals. A friend, writing to me of his college, says that after a careful observation of his own class he had come to the conclusion that eighty-five per cent, of his classmates were morally clean. Twenty years ago I know that hardly fifty per cent, of the men in the senior class were morally clean. The change has been great and in every respect sal- utary. The newspapers teem from time to time with reports of the frolics and escapades or the deviltries and sins and crimes of college boys. Such reports are usually exaggerations, but it is to be at once said that the personal morals of college men are far superior to the personal morals of any body of young men of equal size outside of the college. A distinguished graduate of Harvard writes me, saying : The moral tone of college life among the students in my day was, to the best of my judgment, distinctly better than the moral tone of young men of the same age out- side of college walls. There were dissipated young men there then, as there are dissipated young men there now ; but the dissipation of young men outside the college walls 151 The Government of Students waSj in. my judgment, distinctly lower, more vulgar, and more degrading than that of those inside them. A professor in Iowa College says : As a teacher during forty-five years, I must say that the average student is noticeably superior to the non-stu- dent in life and in character. "Were this not so I should be tempted to the most profound pessimism ; as it is, however, I am able to indulge only in the most cheerful optimism. The college man now represents the finest type of yonng manhood. He will grow yet better with each passing generation. Worthy freedom under worthy conditions represents the best method and agency. 152 VI FINANCIAL RELATIONS VI FINANCIAL RELATIONS I AMOUNT OF ENDOWMENT IN the United States are no less than twenty colleges, each having an income-producing property of at least $1,000,000. Among these are our two oldest colleges. Harvard, which has more than $10,000,000, and Yale, which has about $5,000,000. Columbia has an amount of property, largely real, that brings an annual revenue of at least $425,000; Cornell has about $6,000,000; the University of Chicago has $8,000,000 or more ; and Johns Hopkins has $3,000,000. The Northwestern University also has $3,000,000, and the University of Pennsylvania somewhat more than $2,500,000; Wesleyan University of Middletown, Connecti- cut, has more than $1,000,000, as also has Am- herst, as well as Boston University; Rochester University has about $1,200,000 ; Tulane Univer- sity of Louisiana is to be placed above the million mark, as are also Western Reserve University of Ohio, and Brown University of Rhode Island. 155 Financial Relations Besides these, as the list is not complete, but repre- sentative, several State universities are possessed of either funds or an income assured by the State representing property of at least $1,000,000. Among the wealthier of these universities are those of California, of Michigan, of Wisconsin, and of Minnesota. Of course the income-bearing property of these and other colleges increases: what is true of their property to-day will not be true to-morrow. The wealth, which is either actually or poten- tially possessed by several of these universities, that crown the educational system of their com- monwealths, is simply magnificent. It had its foundation in lands set aside for the support of education. Although certain parts of these public lands were, in the early settlement of these States, sold at a ridiculously low figure, yet, in the newer States, they are still held or have been sold at good prices. In the United States are about four hundred colleges reporting more or less fully to the National Bureau of Education. If, therefore, the number of colleges possessed of more than $1,000,000 each is so small, it is evident that the vast majority of our colleges are poor. The number of colleges which have each less than $200,000 in interest-bearing funds is considerably larger than the number of those which have more than $200,000. The latest reports show that all these colleges have at least $150,000,000, whence they derive the income for their support. It is made clear from the same 156 Financial Relations reports that, at the present time, the value of the grounds, buildings, and apparatus of these colleges is another $150,000,000. It is of special interest to know in what forms this sum of $150,000,000 is invested. In presenting the facts I make use of reports sent to me from be- tween one and two hundred of the representative colleges, and also of reports of presidents and treasurers of these colleges. From these reports I infer that at least four-fifths of all the productive funds of the colleges are invested in bonds and mortgages. Few colleges, and a few only, have a part of their endowment in stocks of any sort. A few of them, notably Columbia and Harvard, have invested largely in real estate. The facts as to certain representative colleges are illustrative. Cornell University has about $4,000,000 in bonds and about $2,000,000 in mortgages; Wabash has property of $362,000, of which $18,000 are in build- ings, $21,000 in bonds, $323,000 in mortgages ; the University of California has somewhat more than $2,000,000, equally divided between bonds and mortgages; Wesleyan University has $1,125,000, of which $81,000 are in real estate, $260,000 in bonds, $77,000 in stocks, $686,000 in mortgages; of the $3,000,000 possessed by Northwestern Uni- versity, $150,000 are represented in buildings, bonds, and mortgages, and the balance is embodied in lands and leases ; the property of the University of Pennsylvania, more than $2,500,000, is divided into $357,000 in buildings, $514,000 in bonds, $127,000 in stocks, $429,000 in mortgages, and the 157 Financial Relations remaining $1,000,000 is, as the treasurer describes, "in other values." Harvard's immense property is changed in the forms of its investments more frequently than the property of many colleges; but of its ten or more millions, railroad bonds and real estate represent the larger share, the amount of bonds exceeding the value of real estate. These figures are representative of general conditions, for changes are made every year and every month in college as in other investments. The college has no right to run financial risks; its funds are trust funds. Unlike certain other large investors, too, the college regards regularity in the receipt of its income as of extreme impor- tance. Its expenses consist largely of the cost of instruction. The gentlemen who give instruction are usually without other source of income than their salaries. The man worth a million may in- vest his million in bonds which may defer pay- ment of coupons five years without special inconvenience to himself. The college worth a million could not defer the interest of its bonds five years without disaster. Colleges cannot afford to have their income depend upon commercial fluctuations. President Eliot was asked, some years ago, why Harvard was putting so much money into real estate in Boston. His reply was that though the rate of income was low, — about four per cent., — and though the buildings were subjected to all sorts of charges, yet the increase in value served to make good, and more than good, the low rate 158 Financial Relations of income. Most colleges, however, have not seen fit to secure real estate for the purpose of produc- ing an income. Real estate represents, for most institutions, rather an annoying kind of invest- ment. Moreover, it cannot be denied that the in- come of most real estate is more or less contingent. We must grant, too, that the possibility of increase in the value of real property carries along with itself the possibility of decrease. On the whole, the securities which the colleges own are the best of the second order of investments. Colleges have few United States and few State and few municipal bonds; but they do own large amounts of the best railroad bonds and of the bonds of waterworks companies, somewhat also of the bonds of street-railways, and also small amounts of the bonds of the counties of Western States. As my eye runs down the list of securities of Cornell University, for instance, I find a record of county bonds in several Western States, as well as railroad bonds, but county bonds seem to pre- dominate. Turning to a college of quite a different position and history, Washington and Lee, in Vir- ginia, I find that, out of $628,000, $234,000 are invested in securities of the State of Virginia; that town and county bonds are represented by a few thousand dollars; and that railroads in the South represent the larger part of the balance. A college of a different environment and condition is Eochester University, New York. Of its $1,200,- 000, $335,000 are in railroad bonds. The real-estate mortgages which colleges own 159 Financial Relations represent, in my judgment, a better class of in- vestments. These mortgages are, with certain exceptions, placed usually on property in the neighborhood of the college itself. The officers of the college, therefore, know the value of the secur- ity, and also the general responsibility of the owner who gives the mortgage. If a college is sit- uated in a city, its money is lent frequently on real property within the city itself. Adelbert Col- lege, of Western Reserve University, lends money on notes secured by mortgages on property in the city of Cleveland, and it lends little or none on property outside. If a college is located in a small town in a newer State of the West, it usually lends on the security offered by farms within a radius of fifty miles. Carleton College, in Minnesota, lends on mortgages placed on farms near Northfield; Iowa on farms near Grinnell; Wabash on mort- gages covering farms near Crawf ordsville ; and Ohio Wesleyan on mortgages on farms situated near Delaware. The New England colleges do not usually pos- sess the advantage of lending money in large amounts at good rates on mortgages on property located near by. Several of them have sent large amounts of money into the West, into Western cities, and on to Western farms. Several of these colleges have made these ventures in the face of great doubt on the part of their more conservative Trustees. But the security offered in a State like Minnesota may be as good as that offered in a State as old as Massachusetts; and the security 160 Financial Relations offered througli business property in Minneapolis may be better than that offered through a farm in Maine. The hinge of the whole matter is that the agent who invests funds for a college should be a good judge of values, both material and personal. A few colleges are known to me as having invested heavily a few years ago in mortgages on Western farms. The principal of not a few of these loans was too large. These colleges, therefore, have found themselves in difficulties through a failure of interest, and also through being obliged to pay the taxes on farms to save the farms from becom- ing absolutely lost ; and, alas ! it has proved to be better in certain cases to lose the farms. Among the questions which I have asked four hundred colleges is: "Do you know of college funds impaired through bad investments or through expenditure for current expenses ? " With only a few exceptions, the answer has been an ab- solute negative. One college treasurer says: "Of recent years our endowment funds have remained intact." Another treasurer writes: "We do not use college funds for current expenses, but have made some poor investments in Western lands." Another says : " Not to any extent." Another says : " In twenty-three years we have not impaired our funds through bad investments. We have used very little of the permanent fund for current ex- penses." Although few colleges may be able to return so good a report as comes from the Board of Regents of the University of California, — "Ex- penditures have never reached income ; we never 11 i6i Financial Relations expend money or create financial obligations unless we have the money on hand or assured," — yet it is apparent that the funds of the American college have, on the whole, been well preserved. It is, therefore, just to infer that the great sum of $150,000,000 intrusted to the American colleges is invested well— well in point of security, well, also, in point of income. This result is secured through the ability of the colleges to call into their service the ablest financiers. The Trustees repre- sent the best brain and the purest character. Harvard College, the colleges in New York city, the colleges in Cleveland, the colleges in Chicago, — to go no farther West, — have been able to retain the services of the best men in their communities. The financial management of the colleges in the United States has, on the whole, been abler than the management of the banks of the United States. The University of California, for instance, never made a bad investment but once, and that of only $22,000. " We then," says a member of the Board of Regents, " bought bonds of that amount which had been pronounced good by the Supreme Court of this State. The same bonds were subsequently pronounced unconstitutional by another Supreme Court." In a word, there is no investment so safe, there is no investment so certain of rendering the service which it is ordained to render, as money intrusted to a well-established college. The American college is rich because of its en- richment made through its friends. It is only a money-receiving institution, not a money-making 162 Financial Relations agency. Occasionally a college lias tried to make money. In some instances the trial has resulted favorably, in other cases in loss. I now recall the case of a college, which, through the endeavor of a former President to make money by real-estate speculation, was driven to the brink of bank- ruptcy — a condition from which it has gallantly recovered. The lottery was a very common form of college beneficence in the early part of the cen- tury. Nearly all colleges then existing received money in this way. Stoughton Hall and Hol- worthy, at Cambridge, were erected from the pro- ceeds of lotteries. In fact, a lottery for the benefit of Harvard was established as early as 1745, and another in 1794 ; in the latter lottery the college held the lucky ticket and drew a prize of $10,000. On April 13, 1814, the legislature of the State of New York passed an act granting the following sums to three colleges and a church: to Union College $200,000, to Hamilton College $40,000, to the College of Physicians and Surgeons $30,000, and to Asbury African Church, New York, $4000. The State made these grants on the basis of secur- ing these sums from the proceeds of lotteries. The colleges are usually obliged to spend all their income year by year. Cornell has a unique way of reserving five per cent, of its estimated income of the coming year. If the year, when it is passed, show a surplus, the surplus goes into the fund available for the year yet to follow — as excellent a way as it is uncommon, and one quite certain of resulting in the abolition of the too common deficit, 163 Financial Relations For a deficit is common in the college budget. It is usually not large ; it is usually, too, made up at once by Trustees and friends : but it is common alike in the college and the church. I find only occasional instances in which the deficit is allowed to stand. " It is," one treasurer remarks, " carried over." But such carrying over is simply eating up one's seed-corn, and such devouring cannot continue long without disaster. Income is spent in two great forms — that of in- struction and that of administration. The divi- sion of expense between these two departments differs largely in different colleges. In the Uni- versity of California four-fifths of the income is devoted to instruction, one-fifth to administration : in Northwestern University seventy per cent, to instruction and thirty to administration. In the University of Michigan two-thirds goes to instruc- tion, one-third to administration. These figures, taken from reports of college treasurers, may, how- ever, represent different bases. It is a question, for instance, whether the salary of the President who gives a small amount of instruction, but whose duties are also administrative, should be charged to the account of instruction or of administration. Treasurers also differ as to whether repairs and in- surance are included in administration. It would be hard to include them in the cost of instruction. But these figures are sufficient to show that the large part of the income of each college is devoted to securing instruction. The salaries paid in the college are usually low. 164 Financial Relations " There are iron-mills in this country whose entire laboring force is paid at an average rate quite as high as that of the salaries paid by some of our colleges."^ The salary of the most highly paid professors in American colleges considered in the aggregate is about two thousand dollars, and the salary of other professors about fifteen hundred dollars. The average number of members in the Faculty of American colleges, taking one hundred and twenty-four colleges as a basis, is sixteen and one-half persons. These figures represent the point of the application of the largest part of the income of college funds. Two or three colleges are paying to a few teachers salaries of seven thousand dollars, and perhaps ten colleges are paying four thousand dollars at least. The present tendency is toward an increase of the highest salaries and toward a decrease of the stipend of new instructors. The increase in the funds of American colleges has been exceedingly rapid within the lifetime of the older men now living. In the year 1830 the first printed statement of the finances of Yale College was made. At that time the total productive fund, not including land, amounted to only $30,856.26. There were liabilities standing against the college amounting to $13,000. The net total productive fund of the college was, therefore, only $17,856.26. The total income from funds that year was $2673.66. In 1831 the receipts from all sources, including tuition, were $19,674.87; the expenses 1 " The Pay of American College Professors," by President W. R. Harper, in "The Forum," Vol. XVI, p.l03. 165 Financial Relations were $20,208.38. In 1832 the receipts increased to eight cents more than $20,000, and the expenses increased to $23,028.87. The income from funds of 1832 was $2555.86. In 1879 the funds of the academical department had increased to $700,000, the funds of the theological department to about $300,000, of the Sheffield Scientific School to $165,000, of the Medical to a little over $21,000, and the University fund to a little over $230,000. The income from all sources for the year ending June 30, 1876, was over $300,000. In 1890 the entire productive funds of Yale College had in- creased to an amount double that possessed in 1876, and since that time there have been great additions made, also, to its interest-bearing prop- erty. These additions still continue, and will con- tinue in enlarging sums. Harvard began to come into its wealth when it was far less old than Yale, but its riches in its first two centuries were rather poverty than wealth. The amount of money given to Harvard during the seventeenth century was £6134 16s. 10c?. The amount of money given to Harvard in the eighteenth century aggregated about £27,000. In the year 1840 the whole amount of the productive funds of the college was $646,235.17, and the entire income from all sources was $45,- 535.71. At the present time the annual income from all sources of Harvard exceeds a million, and the addition annually made to its permanent funds in recent years has also exceeded a million dollars. By the side of these statements it is fitting to lay down statements as to the two great English Financial Relations universities. The reports show that for the year ending with December, 1893, the income of the University of Oxford, apart from the colleges, was almost £66,000, and the income of her twenty col- leges was £439,606, ranging from £7192 at Hert- ford College, to nearly £60,000 at Magdalen College and Christ Church — an average of £21,980 to each college. The income of the University of Cam- bridge is not stated in the reports made to the Vice-Chancellor, but the income of her seventeen colleges was £295,247, ranging from £4119 at Mag- dalen College to £76,523 at Trinity — an average of £17,367 to each college. The income of the wealthier colleges of these universities, drawn from funds, is far in excess of the income of the wealth- ier American colleges derived from the same source. The income of the less wealthy is about the same as that of the ordinary New England college.^ The Grerman university is more of a state insti- tution than the English university. The govern- ment is directly pledged to its support. At least three Grerman universities, Leipzig, Heidelberg, and Grreifswald, have property of their own, but the larger part draw their annual revenue from the governmental chest. Professors are paid both from this fund and from the fees of students. It has long been the judgment of the writer that 1 These statements are based on "Abstracts of the Accounts," published in the ease of Cambridge in the " University Reporter, " and in the case of Oxford by the Clarendon Press ; and on compen- diums made by Professor B. A. Hinsdale of the University of Michigan, and published in the "University Record." 167 Financial Relations I colleges should publish each year, for distribution among their constituents, a complete and detailed statement of their financial condition and rela- tions. Colleges are public institutions. If the ma- jority of them are legally and technically private corporations, they essentially belong to the people. They appeal to the people for endowment and also for the privilege of offering instruction. They have no proper right to make an appeal for funds to the people unless they exhibit to the people the use that they have made of funds already received. It cannot be doubted that such a public statement would tend to awaken public confidence in the financial integrity and ability of the college. The evil influence of occasional lapses is overcome by the generally excellent record of investment. Let the American college take the American people into its confidence, and it will find it much easier to get hold of the American purse. I venture to make a further suggestion as to the method of investment. Among the questions which I have asked the colleges is this: "Are funds, given for certain specific purposes, in- - vested by themselves, or are all funds pooled in I general investments, the bookkeeping showing 1 where specific funds belong ? " Colleges range them- selves on each side of the answer to this question. 3 Many colleges invest amounts given for specific . purposes by and of themselves ; but certain ones I do "pool" all moneys, although the bookkeeping ' shows where specific funds are. It certainly would be better, for certain reasons, to invest funds i68 Finaficial Relations given for specific purposes by themselves ; for, in the course of centuries, funds that are thus put into one common box might fail of the specific purpose for which they were intended. Such limi- tations might occasionally result in less income, but they would result also, I think, in a larger de- gree of confidence in the power of the American college to keep its specific obligations. Yet funds invested separately run a greater risk of being completely lost, for it is hard to conceive of the general endowment becoming seriously impaired, but it is easy to conceive that a single fund might be entirely lost. II OKIGIN AND CONDITIONS OF ENDOWMENT Of the large amount of money which each year is given by men in the cause of beneficence, only a very small share is the result of inheritance. Every dollar has usually been earned and saved by the giver of that dollar. If one should set down the names of fifty men who are distinguished for works of charity, not more than ten would be found to have inherited the larger part of the wealth which they bestow. The reason is not far to seek and is manifold. Inherited wealth usually brings along with itseK burdens. It inherits houses in city and country which must be kept open, and yachts which must be kept sailing, or at least in repair. It inherits dependents and dependencies 169 Financial Relations of various sorts which must be supported. It in- herits a scale of expenditure which cannot easily be changed. Inherited wealth, too, is frequently invested in forms of property which make but a small percentage of returns. Inherited wealth sel- dom increases in that ratio in which it was origi- nally made. The heir, too, of inherited wealth may not feel that freedom in the bestowal of it which he would feel in the use of riches which he himself had created. The wealth which has founded and endowed col- leges, which has built libraries and art museums, which has established institutions for practical education, and hospitals for the sick, and parks for the strong, has been, and usually is, wealth which its possessor and giver had himself made. An ex- ception is at once to be made in the case of women. I have said that the large amount of the money that men give in beneficence is money which they themselves have saved, but the larger part of wealth which women bestow in beneficence is wealth which they themselves have inherited. As society is now constituted women are not makers of money, and as society is now constituted, and is becoming more and more constituted, women are the receivers and the givers of money. The larger part of the money which women are using in beneficence is money which they have inherited from their husbands or fathers. And, be it said, fully one-third of the money that is given to-day in charity or education is given by women. Women are becoming the possessors of great 170 Financial Relations property, and they are also becoming the great benefactors of humanity. Some of the characteristics of the wealth that has been bestowed for public uses and for educa- tional uses are significant. It is, of course, to be said that wealth given in large amounts is given from wealth possessed in large amounts. Great beneficences are drawn from great fortunes. It is also to be said that these great fortunes have been created in almost every one of the great commercial undertakings of the modern world. As one's eye runs over the list it is found that the building and administration of railways, the manufacture of lumber, of iron, of cloths (cotton and woolen), of thread, of beer, of sugar, of leather, of glue, of flour, the refining of oil, the packing of meat, and the sailing of ships and the carrying of packages by express, repre- sent the larger part of the processes by which these fortunes have been made. Of all these and of the other various forms of endeavor, railroads, lumber, iron, and oil represent the accumulations which have most largely contributed to human better- ment. They embody enterprises of many and complex relationships. They require in their ad- ministration the highest qualities of human char- acter. Soundness of judgment, foresight, boldness, independence of will, appreciation of public needs and desires, and the power to make many and fre- quently divergent interests converge to one su- preme end, are elements of the mind required for the carrying forward of such great undertakings 171 Financial Relations as continental railroads, as immense iron-mines and -foundries, and as the diverse and tremendous operations in the lumber and oil industries. Trade has not proved to be so large a source of benefi- cence as manufacturing, and, outside of two or three donations or bequests, the professions have not made large contributions of monej^- to human betterment. Possibly the business of banking ought to rank next to the kinds of business that I have noted as being the largest sources of beneficence ; for banking has been, indirectly and directly, a source of large income. Not a few of the benefactors who have made their homes in Baltimore, and who laid the foundations of their fortunes in shipping or mercantile pursuits, have increased their holdings through engaging in the business of banking. The banking business has contributed large amounts to Columbia University and Drexel Institute, to Union Theological Sem- inary, to Yale College and to Harvard. It is not to be forgotten that Mr. Greorge Peabody, the earliest of the general and great benefactors, made his large fortune largely in banking. The indus- tries that have furnished large endowments are those of oil (to the University of Chicago and to Pratt Institute in Brooklyn), of lumber (to Cor- nell), and that of iron (in the foundation of music- halls, art museums, and libraries which bear the name of Carnegie). The sugar industry is the source of large beneficence to Columbia University and the University of Pennsylvania. Mr. Payer- weather made the millions which he gave to 172 Financial Relations twenty and more institutions of learning in the business of tanning. Tlie making of reapers and harvesters represents the financial foundation of the theological seminary in Chicago which bears the name of McCormick, and the gift of half a mil- lion dollars to Northwestern University. Harvard has, in the middle part of the present century, and again more recently through the benefactions of Edward Austin, received great gifts from the China and East India trade. In fact, in the earlier decades of the century, the China and East India trade was almost the only means for making great amounts of money, and the colleges, in common with ah charities, were beneficiaries of it. In the last half of the century the railroad has supplanted the ship as a means of making money both for its owner and for the cause of charity. The railroad has been, on the whole, the source of the largest amount of beneficence. The great gifts to colleges have usually been made by those who are not themselves graduates of colleges. In the former time most college gradu- ates entered the professions, and, therefore, were not in the way of securing fortunes sufficiently ample to warrant the bestowal of large sums in charity. In fact, the absence of college names is rather significant. Although in the earlier time college men were not money-makers, in the last ten or fifteen years they have been entering kinds of business which are remunerative. From a third to a fifth of the graduates of our colleges are now becoming members of the money-making 173 Financial Relations callings. But it may be said that most of these graduates have not been long enough in business to become benefactors. It will be interesting to see whether those who have been beneficiaries of our colleges, coming to possess ample means of their own, will themselves become benefactors. About one-half of the great benefactions which Har- vard College has received in the last thirty years has been made by those who are its sons. But the simple fact is that at the present time the names which represent the largest benefactors of the colleges are the names of those who have arisen from penury to the possession of large wealth. Not long ago the founder of the University of Chicago was working in Cleveland for a salary of five hundred dollars. The builder of the library for one of the universities of Ohio said to me that he came to Cleveland with just a dollar in his purse. Dr. D. K. Pearsons, who has given several million dollars to a score of institutions from the Columbia to the Connecticut, went into the West with hardly more than a bare competency. Has not Andrew Carnegie, too, told us of his working for a few dollars a week? Did not Mr. and Mrs. Williston of Easthampton begin by covering but- tons by hand? With a spare suit of clothes and a few dollars in his pocket, Ezra Cornell entered Ithaca on foot, having walked from his father's house, a distance of about forty miles.^ And the great associates of Cornell in the establish- ment of the university bearing his name were 1 Biography of Ezra Cornell, p. 45. 174 Financial Relations with a single exception originally as poor in purse as was he. It is to the men of the self-made type that the American college and all American char- ities are most deeply indebted. These benefactors have often expressed the thought that they had given money to colleges in order that life might be easier for boys and girls than it had been for them- selves, and that the boys and girls of the future might have more worthy care than they them- selves had enjoyed. The man who has had a col- lege education appreciates it much. I sometimes think that a man who has not had a college educa- tion appreciates it even more, and is therefore willing to do more in order that others may have an education than the man who has himself en- joyed it is willing to do. The mental and moral conditions out of which have been created great fortunes are the conditions also out of which have come the great gifts or be- quests from these fortunes. If foresight and judg- ment and energy are required to make great amounts of money, foresight and judgment are no less required in the worthy bestowal of large gifts. Judge F. M. Finch, in making a memorial address on Henry Williams Sage, said: "He learned his lessons thoroughly: every man in his place and every duty at its time ; perfect method and rigor- ous system everywhere; the rule of a master, kindly but resolute and unflinching; nothing too small to be overlooked ; never an atom of waste in any direction ; tireless industry ; utter devotion to the task in hand ; no pardon for laziness ; no en- 175 Financial Relations durance of careless neglect ; every moment utilized, and every hour brimmed with its work. That was the training which he had and the lesson of man- hood that he learned. It left indelible marks upon his life, sure to show themselves in his after career."^ Such qualities of vigor, alertness, can- dor, foresight, and economy are the qualities ever necessary for the bestowing of wealth. The wise man seldom gives in a hurry. If he does, he usu- ally lives to repent his haste. The wise man gives with large vision and exact knowledge of all con- ditions. I know of a gentleman who had deter- mined to give away more than half a million dollars in educational beneficence. His lawyer has recited to me the care that was taken in determin- ing the purposes for which the wealth should be given, and, when the purposes had been deter- mined, in selecting what agency should be chosen to carry out the purposes. The charters of the institutions, the laws of the States in which they were situated, the personality of the boards of trust, the methods followed by the boards of trust in the investment of funds — these and simi- lar matters were examined for a long time and with much care. It is known that for years previ- ous to the foundation of the University of Chi- cago, the leaders of the Baptist Church in the United States were questioning as to the best place to establish a national university under the charge of the Baptist Church. The choosing of Chicago 1 "In Memory of Henry Williams Sage" (published by Cornell University, 1898), p. 32. 176 Financial Relations was the result of long and serious deliberation. The announcement of the great benefactions of Mr. D. B. Fay er weather was a surprise to the whole country, and even to his nearest neighbors ; but years previous to his death Mr. Fayerweather had consulted Dr. Roswell D. Hitchcock with ref- erence to many of the colleges which he made his beneficiaries. America is distinguished for the public beneficence of its rich men ; but it is always and clearly to be said that the rich men of America who give money to public uses usually give it with the same foresight and judgment in and through which they have acquired the same wealth. It is also to be said that the beneficence to the American college or to any institution of public welfare is usually local. The largest part of the money is given by men who live in the neighbor- hood of the institution which is benefited. Most of the money, except that bestowed by its great benefactor, given to the University of Chicago has come from Chicago. The largest part of the money that has been received by Columbia in recent years has come from New York. The largest part of the money given to Harvard has come from Boston. The largest part of the money given to Western Reserve and Adelbert has had its source in Cleveland. It is significant that of the million and a third raised for the Sesquicenten- nial Fund of Princeton not a single dollar is re- ported as having been given by anybody resident in New England. The gifts to Leland Stanford University came, of course, from the gift of one 12 1^7 Financial Relations who converted his home into a site for the uni- versity ; and the beneficences of the University of California have come quite largely from those liv- ing in or near San Francisco. Of course there are exceptions to this rule as to the local character of beneficences. These exceptions are usually found in the cases of the new mission colleges. Colleges founded in the new States or in new cities must secure their endowment from the old States and the older cities. The newer parts of the country draw upon the older for capital quite as much for beneficence as for the equipping of farms, the building of blocks, and the establishing of factories. The motives which lead to educational or other beneficence are, of course, manifold. There are general motives, and there are special and specific motives. The general motives are summed up in the one phrase— the desire to do good ; and possibly this mo- tive is the one which moves the largest number of givers. The individual desires to give away some money in order to do good, and to him the chief question is to whom or to what shall he trust his funds. For we are never to forget that money is, in a sense, one's outer self. It represents the brain and the heart and the life of the possessor and of the bestower. Money takes on intellectual and moral character. It is the microcosm of the modern world. If it came out of brain, it buys brain ; if it is the result of character, it trains character ; if it rep- resents enthusiasm, pluck, economy, temperance, it trains these qualities. It is a sign and symbol 178 Financial Relations of civilization. He who has it has the power of creating civihzation and of enhancing the value of civilization through its bestowal. If what one of the Biblical writers says, that " the love of money is the root of all evil," is true, it is also true that the use of money is a root of good. In addition to the general motive, special ones are of constant force. The memorial motive is frequent and significant. In not a few cases the memorial purpose has been chief in the mind of the giver. In other instances it has been to him quite unconscious, but those whom he has made trustees of his beneficence have recognized the memorial purposes. Three colleges of Maine bear the names of early benefactors or founders, and the name of one of these colleges was changed from the name of the place of its location to the name of its great benefactor — Colby. Dartmouth, Williams, Brown, Smith, as well as Harvard and Yale, bear into the future the names either of their founders or of those who were intimately asso- ciated with the building of the colleges. Most col- leges are named either after the places of their location or after their chief benefactors. Either designation is fitting. A college in asking that the name of its great benefactor be given to itself is asking only what is intrinsically fitting. The giver, too, of a great gift is not unduly influenced when he gives with the thought or with the expressed condition that the foundation which he makes be regarded either as a memorial to his family or to some member of 179 Financial Relations that family. Of course, when a college itself be- comes a memorial, it is obliged to face the inevi- table consequences of the cessation of gifts from other sources for a long time. It requires a high degree of gracionsness, in a world which offers manifold opportunities for doing good through large giving, to bestow gifts which result in the enhancement of the value of family memorials. But in a generation the special character of a memorial foundation becomes less and less distinct. It was almost a generation after Matthew Vassar made his foundation before other large gifts were made, and some of these were from those who bore his own name. If Johns Hopkins University had not borne the name of its founder, the citizens of Baltimore might have been more generally liberal to it. If Chicago University were bearing the name of its founder, a great many people of Chicago who have given of their wealth would have been reluctant to support it. But the years bring obscurity to the memorial character of a gift. Who would think that in giving to the University at Cambridge he was laying a stone in the monu- ment of John Harvard, or that in giving to the college at Hanover he was making the name and fame of Lord Dartmouth more conspicuous, or that in giving to Brown he was prolonging the sig- nificance of that family in Rhode Island and na- tional affairs ? Seen from the point of view of the one making the memorial, a gift to a college is most fitting. A memorial should be lasting, and should be beauti- i8o Fmanctal Relations ful in its conception and circumstances. The col- lege is among the most lasting, if not the most lasting, of human institutions; and the college stands for that which is holy and noble and great. A memorial should have, too, in addition to these qualities of endurance and of beauty, the purpose of the largest and highest influence. Among all the institutions of mankind, what can be more useful or what is more useful than a college? These principles and purpose receive an illustration in the raising of a hundred thousand dollars as a memorial to Colonel George E. Waring. The in- come of this sum is to be given to the family of Colonel Waring, and when their need of it has ceased, it goes to Columbia University to be held in a fund bearing the name of the great citizen, the income of which is to be used in giving in- struction in the science and art of governing cities. The endeavor to raise a large sum of money to found a college in the Sudan in memory of Greneral Gordon represents the best memorial to that in- trepid spirit. A motive or a condition which is often recog- nized in the making of gifts is the desire for the continuance or for the enlargement of the work with which one has been associated. The Trustees of a college are in not a few instances its most gen- erous benefactors; for, above all other men, they know its needs, the care that is taken in the invest- ment of funds and in the expenditure of their in- come, and they also know of the value which money given to a college possesses. The gifts of 181 Financial Relations Mr. Henry Williams Sage to Cornell, of Mr. D. Willis James to Amherst, and of the two or three families that have long been associated with Prince- ton to that university, have arisen, at least in part, from the wish to aid at the present and in the future in the work of a college which they have already promoted. In fact, the tendency to what I may call the accumulation of gifts is a character- istic prevailing among givers and among their beneficiaries. The object to which one has given one usually continues to aid. Grifts, like invest- ments and like rivers, flow in the channels which through the centuries they have cut for themselves. The religious and educational motive is also a power in college beneficence. The religious and denominational foundation of most colleges has called out Christian love and enthusiasm. In being a denominational college a college places certain limitations upon the field whence it can naturally and easily draw funds; but if it limit the extent of the field, it may thus tend to strengthen and deepen the claims which it may make upon its supporters. The Congregational colleges which have been founded in the last fifty years in the immediate wake of the westward civilization, have drawn the larger part of their support, in their first decades, from Boston and New England. The rea- son is that Boston and New England are, in their denominational relations, largely Congregational. The money for the Presbyterian colleges that have been founded in the last fifty years in the newer States has been derived largely from the 182 Financial Relations Presbyterian centers of New York and Phila- delphia. The names of conspicuous members of these churches are affixed to colleges in Minnesota, Nebraska, Kansas, Illinois, and other great States. The religious motive is of highest importance. A profound religious enthusiasm, united with a wise foresight, has promoted the foundation of colleges not only for the preservation and progress of the community, but also for the enlargement and the enrichment of the great bodies of the Christian church. Both as a cause and as a result, every church of strength founds and endows colleges, and, too, both as a result and as a cause, every college of strength strengthens the churches of its name. As society develops, and as the means for its improvement enlarge and become more diverse, the place which the denominational motive plays in beneficence naturally lessens. The human and the humanitarian motive comes to be more signifi- cant. For it is recognized that the great needs of the community can be filled, and filled most com- pletely, through the college. The supreme need of the world to-day is the need of educated leader- ship. America, in particular, demands men of judgment. If the conscience of the American needs correcting somewhat, the mind of the Amer- ican needs enlightenment more. The judgment which the world needs to exercise in all of its great affairs is a judgment which the college is set to train, and which the college man should embody above every other member of the community. This judgment possesses certain significant ele- 183 Financial Relations ments. This judgment embodies largeness and a proper estimate of values, the power to see units, and out of units to construct unities. It embraces every scientific application of observation and every philosophical application of inference. It is a judgment deliberate and deliberative, sane^ large, as remote from being influenced by the idols of the market-place, of the forum, and of the vot- ing-booth as it is remote from the smallness of dilettantism. It works with the accuracy of instru- ments of precision. It moves in inductions that are no less than transcendental. It is a judg- ment which helps one to see the principal as prin- cipal and the subordinate as subordinate. It is a judgment which gives contentment and inspira- tion, humility and the sense of strength. It is is a judgment which results in adjustment, making one a citizen of the world without making one less a patriot. It is a judgment, too, which means self- understanding and the understanding of all. It is a judgment primarily intellectual, and yet it is not simply intellectual. It is a judgment in which the emotions have a proper play and place, and yet it is not simply emotional. It is a judgment result- ing in action, yet it is something more by far than mere volition. It is a judgment in which con- science has a supreme part, but it represents more than a dictate of conscience narrowly interpreted. Such judgment a college graduate, above other members of the community, is fitted to offer and to use. Each study of the college makes an offering toward its enrichment. Language gives it discrim- 184 Financial Relations ination, freedom, and aptitude; science gives to it the sense of order and a respect for law ; philos- ophy gives to it self-confidence, breadth of vision, toleration. It — this power of judgment — is more useful than the appreciation of beauty. It is the basis of social life and of good manners. It is the soul of conduct. It is the crown of intellectual manhood and womanhood. It is an essential ele- ment in individual character. It is the queen in civilized society. A man who goes through college and trains in himself a judgment of this power, is doing much to fill the direst and deepest need of humanity, and the man who endows the college that it may train such judgment in the largest and fullest ways, is also doing much for humanity. About one-half of the wealth that is bestowed in beneficence is the result of bequests, and about one-half also is the result of gifts. The proportion differs, of course, in different years, but it is to be said that the amount given during the lifetime of the giver is increasing. It cannot be at all ques- tioned which method is the better. For the sake of the security of the gift, of its use in the precise ways which the donor intends, for the sake of the pleasure which the giver may himself receive from his giving, it cannot be questioned for one moment but that the giver should give in his own lifetime. The uncertainty of the validity of wills is a most serious matter in modern society. When a lawyer so astute as Samuel J. Tilden, or a judge so wise as Chancellor Kent, draw wills which are set aside in a greater or less extent, it is apparent that much "*" 185 Financial Relations uncertainty must attend tlie making of any testa- ment. But it is also to be said, on the other side, that the desire to retain property is strong, and also the need of the income or the principal of property may be absolute. In this case, if one wish to be absolutely assured of the proper use of his prop- erty, he can usually bestow it upon a college and receive a specific income from it during his life- time. What has been called the conditional method of giving has become so common that it should re- ceive special mention. This method consists simply in that the making of one gift is conditioned upon the making of certain other gifts. For instance, Mr. John D. Rockefeller promises to give the University of Chicago two millions of dollars in the course of four years, provided that an equal sum is given by others in the same time. It is well known that this conditional method is one frequently followed by Mr. Rockefeller, and is also one which has become conspicuous through its use by Dr. D. K. Pearsons of Chicago. The first thought that one has in respect to this method is that it is an exceedingly shrewd device. It is recognized as an efficient method for promot- ing the beneficence of people who need a motive. It seems to carry along with itself not only evi- dence of the generosity of the man himself, but also evidence that he wishes every man whom he can influence to be generous also. It is the em- bodiment of the method of the New England the- ology of helping every one to do his whole duty. 1 86 Financial Relations But when one has taken satisfaction in this thought and feeling another sentiment emerges. The second sentiment is rather one of revulsion; for to certain minds the process does seem to savor of dragooning an individual into benevolence against his will. It contains an intimation that the generous man and rich proposes to make every- body else generous so far as he can. I can easily see that an emotional and intellectual process somewhat of this character may possess a man who is approached for a gift under the conditions of this method. The agent who is securing funds asks Mr. A. B. to give a thousand dollars. Mr. A. B. replies that he will consider the need and will do as seems to him right. " But," says the agent, " you will not forget, my dear Mr. A. B., that if you give a thousand dollars, Mr. X. Y. will also give a thou- sand dollars. Therefore your gift of a thousand means an addition to our fund of two thousand." A. B. replies: "Yes, I know; but that is no con- cern of mine. If your cause is worthy I will give you a thousand dollars, whether any one else gives or not. If it is not worthy I will not subscribe a cent ; if it is worthy I will subscribe all I can. I do not let any man either cajole or force me into giv- ing away my money against my will and judgment. If he ought to give away his million or ten thou- sand, of course he ought to give it away ; but his duty has no relation to my duty, or mine to his." Such, I can easily believe, is the mood of many a man who is approached to make gifts under the conditions of this new method. 187 Financial Relations And yet the new method does seem to me to be, as I have intimated, worthy of commendation. The arguments in its behalf are far stronger than the arguments against it; for the amount that one ought to give is not determined by a narrow inter- pretation. The amount which one gives, or ought to give, is determined somewhat by what others give or ought to give. Mr. Wiseheart, for instance, has half a million dollars to give toward the founding of a college in his native town. He knows very well that half a million is too small a foundation for a college to rest upon. Yet this sum he is willing thus to invest. Is it not just and gracious in him to say, " I will give half a million dollars to found a college, provided that you, the com- panions of my boyhood, will give an equal sum " % He lays no burden upon them which they should feel the weight of, if they have the means of lifting it. Mr. Groodheart may also wish to build a church in his native town. He knows that five thousand dollars is a small sum, too small to erect an adequate structure. Is it, therefore, not just and gracious in him to say to the congregation, " I have five thousand dollars in the bank awaiting your call when you put five thousand dollars more along with it for building a church " % Mr. Do well wishes to build a parsonage in his native town. He has five hundred dollars for this purpose, but five hundred dollars is not adequate. Is it not just and generous and gracious in him to say to the congregation that he will give five hundred dollars provided it will raise a thousand? His Financial Relations proposition lays no burden on tlie church if it have the power of raising the additional sum. In the first instance, five hundred thousand dollars should not be given to found the college unless an equal sum is also raised. In the second instance, five thousand dollars should not be given to build the church unless an equal sum is also raised. In the third instance, five hundred dollars should not be given to build the parsonage unless the thousand dollars are also raised. For each sum in itself is inadequate for the ordained purpose. Therefore the amount which one may properly give to the support of a certain cause is conditioned upon what others are inclined to give. The new method deserves commendation also on the ground that most people do require every possible motive to maintain themselves in a just generosity. By nature most men embody very well the law of self-preservation and of self-pro- tection. Men ought always to be selfward; but most find selfwardness degenerating into selfish- ness. They require the urging and pressure of every motive for holding themselves to their duty in beneficence. Therefore motives that may not seem to be gracious may be wise, and motives which at times hardly seem wise may, on the whole, be necessary to secure the largest and most lasting results. Yet not infrequently the result emerges in a way far less ungracious than the premises intimate. For it is a fact often found that men of large power and large generosity in giving, who have condi- 189 Financial Relations tioned their gifts upon the making of other gifts, do bestow the gifts which they had conditionally promised, even if the conditions themselves are not fulfilled. I recall one instance of this nature. A friend of mine had promised five thousand dollars to a certain school for young women on condition that thirty thousand dollars were raised in addi- tion. The hard times came on soon after he had made his promise. It was quite impossible for the agent to raise even a tithe of the thirty thousand ; but my friend said, as if it were to him a matter of no consequence whether the thirty thousand dollars were secured or not : " Of course I gave the five." It seems, therefore, that this new method of beneficence, on the whole, is wise and just. But it does seem, too, that those who make large prom- ises of this nature conditioned upon the raising of other sums should not in all instances withhold their benefactions through the failure to fulfil the conditions laid down. This might well be the case, provided that those who are seeking to fulfil the conditions have labored in wisdom, energy, and self-sacrifice. The conditions, too, should not be made onerous. If the gift of money is important and useful, it is not to be forgotten that with his money the giver is to give himself. To give money without giving one's self may be ungracious in the giver, and may not awaken proper gra,titude in the recipient. To give one's self with the gift is at once gracious and generous. It was said of one of 190 Financial Relations the great givers of this country, in speaking of the money which he gave, that " with it went the heart to conceive and the brain to execute; a watchful oversight that doubled the value of the gift; a guardian care that would suffer no dollar to be wasted, but drive every one to its allotted place and its fullest result." ^ The special objects in a college to which one should give are many. It is usually recognized by Trustees that the gifts which are made absolutely and without restrictions of any kind are the most valuable. Such giving the donor may well be expected to approve of; for he should not choose a college in the judgment of whose Trustees or their successors he cannot have absolute trust. But there are certain needs which are quite as sure of remaining as any need of all humanity. The most comprehensive of these needs is the college library. The university represents a unique combination of the library and of the scholar. A library with- out a scholar is a pile of bricks without an archi- tect, useless, meaningless; a scholar without a library is an architect without bricks, helpless, worthless. A scholar in a library, a library for a scholar, and both constituent parts of the univer- sity represent the affluence, the power, and the progress of learning. The library also represents the highest relation of the work of the college to the work of the world. It embodies the purest thought, it receives the finest gold of human aspiration and achievement. 1 "In Memory of Henry Williams Sage," p. 45. 191 Financial Relations Above all other collections of books, it should keep out all dross. Most books, as they fall from the press, fall into the ocean of f orgetf ulness, and sink by their own weight. The college receives the books which have life, the books which, as Lowell says of Gray, " may have little fuel but real fire." It wishes to possess all the books which are an un- quenchable flame. President Low has defined the university as " the highest organized exponent of the intellectual needs of man." ^ The library may be called the highest organized exponent of the supply of the organized needs of man. He also says that the university " is an organized exponent of the questioning spirit in man." We may still further define the library as an organized exponent of the answering of the questioning spirit in man. It is through the library that the college comes into relations with life universal, vital, human. The library appeals to humanity of every range. The chemical laboratory to many is a condition which appeals to only a part of the human sense and senses. Laboratories of other departments are likewise as meaningless. But a great collec- tion of books awakens in even the most stupid wonder, and in all other persons emotions higher than wonder, according as the intellectual receptivi- ties are nobler. Most vital, too, are these relations. How many have interpreted in their own lives Mil- ton's definition of a book as the " precious life- blood of a master spirit " ! Cold and remote often seems the college. It is apart from humanity, as 1 From manuscript. 192 Financial Relations was Ida's college in " The Princess." But into the library has flowed the blood of humanity. The college man drinks deep of this inflowing life and gives himself in deeper devotion to humanity. Is it too much to say that whatever of the universal may belong to the university belongs more to the library than to any other part ? The American college, therefore, has in its library an instrument • of mighty usefulness for serving mankind. No wisdom is too practical, no conse- cration too hearty, no endowment too rich, to be devoted to its development. No house is too fair or too fine for holding its books, only provided the house facilitates their use. No administrative ex- pense is too costly for making its resources more accessible. The library is worthy of the best, for it helps to make the best in the student and the teacher. The significance given to a library is sympto- matic of the richness of the intellectual culture which it helps the students to secure. As the public library is to a degree the cause and the result of the intelligence of the community, so the college library bears relations no less broad and intimate to the work of the college itself. For every element and condition of the library have a peculiar value at once to the student, to the teacher, and to the college executive. The breadth of the work of a college library is indicated by the fact that the library of Harvard College received in the year 1874-75 four funds from sources quite diverse. One of these consisted of the proceeds of one-half 13 193 Financial Relations of the residue of the estate of Charles Sumner^ $29,005. Another fund was the bequest of $15,000 from James Walker, a former President of the college. Upon these gifts and others, the President of the college, in his annual report for 1874-75, says : " The philanthropist and orator whose life was spent in a fierce struggle with a monstrous public wrong, the strong preacher, and the philan- thropic student whose lengthened days were spent in academic retirement, the venerable women full of years and of the graces, all, with a touching con- sent, come bringing the same gift — good books for the use of successive generations of students." So long as colleges exist and so long as educa- tion is fostered, and so long as \hQ pursuit of knowledge, either as a discipline or for the pur- pose of its enrichment, is observed, so long the book must play a large part in the organization and administration of the college. Therefore the gift of money to a college for the purchase of books is ever, and in every respect, to receive hearty commendation. It is also to be said that a gift made for the purpose of meeting the ordi- nary cost of instruction is fitting. But be it said that further than these two particular purposes gifts made to a college accompanied with condi- tions may prove to be of restricted usefulness. Grifts made for the equipping of laboratories, or for the giving of instruction in certain departments, or for the founding of professorships, may not possess the value which the amount of these gifts repre- sents; for in the changing conditions of our so- IQ4 Financial Relations ciety in the next thousand years one can be certain that foundations such as these will suffer serious change. The distinguished President of an his- toric college lately said that it was easy enough to get people to give money for specific purposes of their own choosing, but that it was not easy to get people to give money for general purposes. The work of the college President of to-day is so to inspire people with trust in the college that they will intrust money to it with absolute freedom. It is to be remembered that colleges, notwith- standing their urgent need of money, have seldom or never been willing to adopt unworthy methods of securing money. The contrast between the college and the church in this respect is one alto- gether favorable to the college. One can easily recall the manoeuvers used by various churches either for the purpose of benevolence or for secur- ing the support of the organization, which break all the laws of good taste. The colleges have usually been content with the simple statement of their needs to those whose hearts were large and whose minds were receptive to truth. They have been willing to let their claims for aid rest upon the simple statement of their needs and of their use- fulness to the community. Beneficence to colleges has been larger in the case of the older colleges than in the case of the newer. The reason is not far to seek. The older community has more wealth to give. In the newer communities the returns for the use of money are 195 Financial Relations greater than in the older. Therefore in New York and Massachusetts one expects to find larger gifts than in Illinois or Missouri. In fact, in Massa- chusetts beneficences of a public nature are more common than in any other State. Great properties are passing into the hands of the public in a far greater degree than is usually thought. From one-fifth to two-thirds of not a few large estates are frequently transformed from private to public uses. The bequests, however, for what may strictly be called " charities " in Massachusetts are much larger than they ought to be in relation to the demands of the higher education. It is also not to be forgotten that a small sum of money properly invested for even a single life- time results in a large sum. If the time be length- ened beyond the seventy or eighty years of a single life, the results become very significant. The most striking of all such gifts made to the American college is found in the fund given by Mr. Charles F. McCay to the University of Greorgia. Mr. McCay was professor of mathematics for twenty years, from 1833 to 1853, and after his retirement became a leading actuary for insurance companies. In 1879 Mr. McCay gave the sum of $7000 to the university. This sum was to be invested in first- rate bonds, and the interest to be compounded an- nually or semiannually and to be added to the principal until twenty-one years after the death of a certain number of persons. These persons repre- sented the grandchildren of the testator and also the grandchildren of his brothers and sisters and 196 Financial Relations of a friend. Some years after the making of this deed of gift the $7000 which had been given were exchanged for bonds of the State of Georgia of the face-value of $15,000. It is estimated that a hun- dred years will have expired before the interest of this sum will become available. At that time the historian of the University of Greorgia estimates that the fund will amount to $10,000,000 from which it is hoped the university will be able to se- cure, at a rate of five per cent., a net income of $500,000 a year. Trusts like the Charles F. McCay Donation have seldom been committed to the American college. But if such a method should prevail among a few colleges for even a few generations the result would represent a mighty force for the betterment of humanity. "^ America has entered into an era of great benefi- cence. Fifty years ago Abbott Lawrence gave $50,000 to Harvard College to found the scientific school which bears his name. It was the sum of $50,000 only. In the diary of his brother Amos it is called a " munificent donation," and this brother wrote to the donor, under date of June 9, 1847, as follows : Dear Brother Abbott : I hardly dare trust myself to speak what I feel, and therefore write a word to say that I thank God I am spared to this day to see accomphshed hy one so near and dear to me this last best work ever done by one of our name, which will prove a better title to true nobility than any from the potentates of the world. It is more honorable, and more to be coveted, 197 Financial Relations than the highest political station in our country, pur- chased as these stations often are by time-serving. It is to impress on unborn millions the great truth that our talents are trusts committed to us for use, and to be accounted for when the Master calls. This magnificent plan is the great thing that you will see carried out, if your life is spared ; and you may well cherish it as the thing nearest your heart.^ But to-day a gift of $50,000 is not at all called " munificent," and indeed it awakens small remark. Shefiield's first gift to the scientific school of Yale University was only $100,000. A gift of $1,000,000 to education is now more common than was the gift of $50,000 fifty years ago. In this period we have entered into the era of great fortunes, and we have also entered into the era of great benefi- cence. The next five hundred years are to be an era of magnificent enrichment and enlargement. Gifts of $5,000,000 are soon to become as common as gifts of $50,000 were fifty years ago, and the time may not be remote when the gift of $50,000,- 000 toward the establishment of institutions of learning or of charity may be frequent. One can look upon these foundations with great satisfaction, not only because of the benefits to the college, but also — and more, far more — because of the benefits to be derived for humanity from these benefactions made to colleges. For ordinary fortunes are dissipated after being held for two or three generations. The families in this country 1 " Diary and Correspondence of Amos Lawrence " (Boston, 1856), p. 244. 198 Financial Relations which have held large fortunes for a hundred years can be numbered upon the fingers of both hands. Therefore money given to a college is money saved — saved not only for the next generation, but also -saved for the endless time. Therefore the man who gives to a college can, with a reasonable degree of assurance, feel that he is founding a trust which shall be perpetual in its beneficence to humanity, and the college that receives such endowment can assure itself that it has the promise and the potency of the highest and most lasting usefulness. Ill ENDOWMENT MADE FOE POOR STUDENTS The remark is sometimes made that too many boys and girls are going to college. At the present time in the United States about one boy or girl of each thousand of the population is a student in an American college. This proportion is larger than has ever obtained before, and it is also larger than is found in any other nation. Not infrequently it is said that the proportion is too large for the best interest of mankind. When one who makes the remark that there are too many college graduates is questioned as to his reasons, the proposition usually becomes so reduced as to mean that we have too many lawyers and doctors. That we have too many lawyers and doctors in the United States may be granted without affirming 199 Financial Relations also that we are sending too many boys and girls to college. For going to college simply means that one is being educated; it does not mean that one is on the way to become a practitioner either in the law or in medicine. One-third of the gradu- ates of not a few of our colleges are now entering business 5 not more than one-third are entering the legal profession; and a smaller proportion are becoming physicians. It certainly is not true that any country can have too many well-edu- cated men. Men can hardly think or feel or rea- son too soundly, or possess an undue purity of the moral nature, or be endowed with a will which follows too closely the guidance of an enlightened intellect. The greater the number of such gentle- men in the community, the greater is the likeness of that community to the state of communal per- fection. It would not, therefore, be an extreme proposi- tion to affirm that every member of the community should be educated, and educated by the wisest methods, under the best conditions, unto the secur- ing of the highest purposes. What if your scav- enger be a bachelor of arts, or your grocer, or can- dlestick-maker be a doctor of philosophy? Will not each attend to his duties the better because of his prolonged training? If his education fail to make him a better scavenger, that education has not been so thorough as it ought to have been. A lady's maid will dress her mistress's hair the more gracefully, and her nursery-maid will attend to the children the more worthily be- 200 Financial Relations cause of four 'years spent in studying Greek and philosophy. Though one may fittingly emphasize the advan- tage which would accrue to American society through the education of each of its members, yet one should not neglect to consider what may be the effects of this education upon the members them- selves who are educated and who are unable to secure what they may regard as fitting employ- ment. Each one of these men has trained himseK to think, and his employment as a scavenger gives him no opportunity, or slight, for applying the results of his thought. He has trained himself to reason, to judge, to weigh evidence, and his voca- tion as a teamster offers no fitting chance either to reason or to weigh evidence. The effect of such a condition upon the educated man may be bitter- ness and disgust and hardness. He has spent money, time, and strength, and this is the result ! Only a large man can save himself from such an evil consequence. Better, far better, for one not to have received a degree, and to have been con- tent with a place as a scavenger or as a teamster, than to have a dozen degrees, and to spend his life in bitterness of spirit and disgust of soul. This sad condition is not one often met with in the United States, but is found far more frequently than we could wish in Grermany and Russia. The endeavor which is made in Germany and Russia to lessen the number of men entering the universities is based upon the supposition that all recipients of degrees will enter what we still call 20 1 Financial Relations the learned professions. On this supposition it is wise to lessen the number of the candidates for uni- versity degrees ; for in Germany some professions are suffering from too many candidates. But the supposition itself is not wise, even for Germany; for Germany, like America, needs more men of a liberal training in almost every vocation. It is well known that the higher education never pays for itself ; and it is also well known that the higher the education becomes, the wider becomes the gap between the income and the expenditure for that education. The $75,000 which the fresh- man class pays annually into the treasury of Har- vard University more than meets the direct cost of the instruction of that class; but the $50,000 which the senior class pays is very remote from meeting the direct cost of its instruction. The further education is pursued, the greater is the division of labor; the sections into which the members of the class are divided become smaller, and the relative expense for each student grows larger. The amount paid by the students of any college falls considerably short of the expenses of that institution. I know a college the annual cost of whose administration is about $60,000, without counting the interest on the plant, and of this sum the students pay about $1 2,000 ; that is to say, the students pay one-fifth of the cost of their educa- tion, and the college pays four-fifths. It is also well known that many homes in the United States are able to put from $2000 to $4000, or more, into the college education of a son or 202 Financial Relations daughter. Forty or fifty thousand homes in the country are now making this investment of money and of love. It is also well known that other tens of thousands of homes would be very glad to make this investment of money in the education of a child, if only the parents had the money to invest. The sons and daughters of homes of poverty or of moderate income are none the less loved, — of course not, — are none the less able ; and they possess none the less of promise of becoming useful members of society. The desire, therefore, of boys and girls who are not able to pay their own college bills to go to college, and the promise which these boys and girls give of rendering good service to the com- munity, lay upon the community, and upon the college as a part of a function of the community, a very large and serious problem. Shall the col- lege say to the applicant for admission, "Yes, we want to educate you; but you cannot expect the college to give you an education gratis. Bring to us the little fee which we charge, and we will do the best we can for you ; but if you cannot bring this fee, we are obliged to say with regret that we cannot serve you" ? Or shall the college say, " We are a public institution designed to serve the people. Our fees are small. The income that we receive from them represents only a small share of the total cost of giving an education. If you are not able to pay the full amount of the fee, small as it is, we will loan you the money sufficient to warrant you in beginning your course ; and if you prove yourself a worthy student, you will not be 203 Financial Relations obliged to leave college because of poverty"? Which attitude shall the college take with ref- erence to certain members of the community? The fundamental reason for the college helping the poor student at all is a reason which is funda- mental in the constitution of the college itself — namely, the bettering of humanity, the aiding of the community. For the college is to serve the community. It must serve the community by such methods and measures as its wisdom dic- tates. But the constitutional purpose is evident. Of course it can serve the community through the education of its worthy and promising members, as the community aids the college. The commu- nity blesses itself through constituting the college both its benefactor and its beneficiary. These are the conditions under which the college has for generations been giving an education, more or less free, to American youth. The amount of money which the college has given, and is still giving, is very large. The money given directly or indirectly by differ- ent colleges to aid worthy and poor students, and the opportunities afforded to them for working their way through college, are well illustrated in the following statements respecting representative colleges. Amherst has a hundred scholarships which cover the tuition fee. It also gives the amount of the tuition fee to those who propose to become ministers. It has certain rooms for which no rent is charged, and also makes loans to students at 204 Financial Relations low rates. Brown University also has a hundred scholarships which cover the amount of the tuition fee, and also a loan fund. Bowdoin College has eighty scholarships of an annual value of from fifty to seventy- five dollars. Dartmouth, it is said, has nearly three hundred scholarships. It also places rooms at the disposal of certain men at merely nominal rent. Harvard has somewhat more than two hundred scholarships running in value from sixty to four hundred dollars each, and also large beneficiary or loan funds, which are given or loaned in sums varying from forty to two hundred and fifty dollars. Princeton remits the tuition fee to those who propose to become ministers and to other men of promise. Columbia has somewhat over a hundred scholarships as well as a loan fund, and these scholarships cover the fee for tuition. Cornell has six hundred and twelve State scholarships, which cover the charge for in- struction, as well as others which are awarded as a result of competitive examinations. Yale remits all but forty dollars from the term bills of those students who are worthy and need help, and also has various scholarships and prizes. The Univer- sity of Pennsylvania annually distributes between forty and fifty thousand dollars in free scholarships and fellowships among from three to four hundred men. These statements represent what a few of the colleges are doing to help worthy men ; and, be it said, these statements are simply representative of what other colleges are inclined,— although in 205 Financial Relations smaller sums,— if not eager, to do to help students of slender means but high promise to fit themselves for living the largest life and for doing the best work. From the beginning the American college has had a warm heart for the poor and able boy. Dr. Julian M. Sturtevant, who was for many years President of Illinois College, and to whom several States of the Mississippi valley are deeply indebted for noble contributions to their highest civiliza- tion, tells, in his autobiography, of the help that was given to him in the early part of this century at Yale College. Dr. Sturtevant entered Yale in the year 1822. He was so poor that he was obliged to depend entirely upon himself, or upon such aid as he might receive, for getting through college. He says : Our venerable mother, Yale, had some peculiar ways in dealing with her numerous family of boys. She took into consideration the peculiar conditions and needs of each student, and did not treat all exactly alike. She kindly permitted me to enjoy the good things of her din- ing-rooms and her halls of instruction with the full understanding that I would pay my way as fast as I could. None of her bills were due till the end of the term. I was then expected to pay what I could and give my note for the rest. From those students who had abundant resources a bond with responsible indorsement was required, covering the full amount of the indebted- ness which each would be likely to incur for the whole four years' course, while from those who, like myself, had no money and in a business way no credit, no secur- 206 Financial Relations ity was required but a personal note with evidence of a disposition to pay as fast as possible. In further evi- dence of Yale's liberaUty, I will mention that I several times found credit on my term bills which represented no payment by myself into the treasury. This very un- usual and liberal system seems to have worked well in my case. It enabled me to continue in college, which would otherwise have been impossible. And in the end I paid all charges against me on the college books, both principal and interest. The generous treatment received from the Yale authorities I shall hold in lifelong grateful remembrance.^ The belief is common, although not universal, among college presidents that donations to needy and promising students represent a worthy form of educational beneficence. It is believed that the college, as a trustee for the holiest interests of humanity, should do its utmost in promoting the value and effectiveness of the forces that may make for the betterment of men. Such gifts are supported by the strongest human motives. They represent the essence of the Christian system. The college, — like the church, the family, and the state, — as an organized form of society, should do its utmost in promoting the highest and largest v^el- fare. So far as justice to all interests allows, the boy or girl who desires an education, and who would be made a better member of society by rea- son of having that education, should receive it. The evils which may result from such a philan- 1 " Autobiography of Julian M. Sturtevant," edited by his son, p. 80. 207 Fmancial Relations thropic method may be thought to be great or slight ; but they should be made so slight that the advantages accruing to society should become large and lasting. I cannot but believe that the evils resulting from urging worthy youth, rich in brain but poor in purse, to enter college, are indeed slight, while the advantages may prove to be exceedingly great. Upon this point President Grilman, in an address before the Phi Beta Kappa Society of Harvard in 1886, said: Just now, in our own country, there is special reason for affirming that talents should be encouraged without respect to poverty. Indeed, it is quite probable that the rich need the stimulus of academic honors more than the poor; certainly the good of society requires that intel- lectual power, wherever detected, should be encouraged to exercise its highest functions. Among all college presidents I know of a few, only a few, who oppose the giving of a college education without cost to those who are eager to receive it. The President of one of the more con- spicuous of the newer universities writes to me as follows : In my experience, the general effect of the granting of pecuniary aid is bad on the receiver and bad also on the body of students who do not receive. All forms of help granted here are in the shape of employment; and I would not have it otherwise. ... I prefer low tuition or free tuition to all to any system of aid. Loans are to be preferred to gifts ; but their influence 208 Financial Relations is sometimes bad, especially on those who feel tempted never to repay. In case funds of this sort were in my hands, I would use them to pay men who give promise of special usefulness by making them assistants in some departments where their help was actually needed. The statement is sometimes made that a boy desiring to go to college should not go until he lias supplied himself with money sufficient to meet the cost of his education. Let him first earn his money, it is said, and afterward go to college. The simple truth is : first, that the boy would sel- dom earn enough to go ; second, that while earning it he would usually lose his purpose to go to col- lege ; and, third, that when he had earned enough to go through college he would find himself too old to take up with the highest advantage to him- self many of the studies of the first two years of a college course. The tendency of staying out of col- lege to take away the purpose to go to college at all is strikingly illustrated in the case of a medi- cal student. I had given him the counsel to stay out of college a year and earn money, inas- much as he was especially in need of earning money, and his ability to earn money was excep- tionally good. He saw fit not to follow the advice. In response to my inquiry as to his reason for going on with his studies, he remarked, — and the remark was made with a pathos which conveyed a meaning that the words themselves do not convey, — " I was afraid that if I stayed out any longer I should give it all up ! " Of course, in the giving of aid to students, the 1* 209 Financial Relations grounds of the grant are of absolute importance. The grounds upon which aid is usually given by a college are threefold : first, the need of aid ; second, the character of the applicant ; and, third, the ability of the applicant. These grounds are often more or less difficult to determine. In not a few instances it is difficult to discover with thor- ough satisfaction whether the student be so in want that he should receive aid. The college usually takes pains to investigate the question. It frequently sends out printed circulars which are to be signed, not only by the applicant or his parents, but also by those outside of the family who know of the conditions. For instance, the follow- ing is the form that is used in a New England college : I hereby apply for a scholarship in— — College, on the ground that I am so far dependent upon my own exertions in securing a college education as to make it necessary for me to receive special pecuniary aid from the college. r Name Signature of Applicant < Residence ( College Course We indorse the above application from our personal knowledge of the pecuniary needs of the applicant, and in the belief that he is worthy, both in character and talents, of the desired aid. Signature of two responsible parties, with date and place : 2IO Financial Relations This application is made with my knowledge and ap- proval, and because of my own inability to furnish the means necessary for the education of my son (or ward). Signature of parent or guardian, with date and place : But even with the making of this and similar inquiries every college officer knows that he is not infrequently imposed upon. For " need " is not an absolute term, but a relative one. One home, hav- ing an annual income of $1000, will send a son or daughter to college and pay all the bills. Another home, having an income of $1500, will become an applicant for a scholarship, and will not see any- thing inconsistent in accepting a largess of $200 from the college. The opinion is altogether too common that every college is rich, and that whatso- ever a student can get from the college is so much gained. It is well known that great difficulty is experienced in the administration of what is known as the Price Greenleaf Aid Fund of Harvard Uni- versity. I have known of boys who applied for aid from this fund and who have received the aid, but who, judged from the standard of expenditure in their homes, had no more right to it than the man in the moon. But the element of need, when once determined, is a fundamental ground for the awarding of aid. It becomes the college to inves- tigate, with whatever of pains and courtesy the condition allows, in order to discover the exact character of the need, and to determine the amount necessary for the proper filling of the need. Of course the question of the character of the appli- 211 Financial Relations cant also is fundamental. The college ought not, under any condition, to educate a boy whose char- acter is bad and who gives no promise of becoming a useful member of the community. To educate a bad boy or a boy of no promise is to introduce a serpent into a dove's nest, or to train him for the serpent's career. For, as is said in the constitu- tion of Phillips Academy at Andover, " knowledge without goodness is dangerous." The college should also demand a high degree of intellectual ability and of promise in order to grant aid. The degree of ability and the degree of prom- ise required vary in different colleges. In not a few the amount of aid is measured by the degree of ability or of promise. At this point the college meets with a constant difficulty. What is the minimum of ability which should justify a college Faculty in giving aid to a student who is in need I The President of a college in Indiana writes : It is not our policy to give aid to men poor in purse but unpromising scholars unless we discover that there is a good deal of potency in them. The college should train character, it is true ; hut it is also to train intellect. Some men ought not to have a college education, and can he more useful members of society by doing some- thing else rather than attending college. The President of a college in Michigan writes : No discrimination should be made against moderately dull students. Beneficiary aid is not for the exceptionally gifted alone. 212 Financial Relations The President of a university in the State of New York writes : It seems to us that there ought to he, for every such grant, the demonstrated ability either of achievement or promise, and that there ought to be, besides, the fact of need. Sometimes the need is the one thing which pre- vents a student from being properly equipped for begin- ning the course which he wishes to pursue. At entrance, therefore, we should doubtless be more lenient in accept- ing promise in lieu of achievement than we should be later in the course. The President of a denominational college in Ohio says : We are coming more and more to question the wisdom of granting aid to goody-goody fellows who have little brain-power. On a scale of a possible 100, we now require a passing grade of 80 for all beneficiary students, whereas others pass on 60. It is evident that the degree of promised useful- ness which should be expected from an applicant for aid represents one of the most difficult ques- tions for a Faculty to consider. In general, it is to be said that the Faculty is inclined to give the applicant the advantage of the doubt; for the very fact that he is eager for an education is some evidence of his worthiness to receive it, and it is also promise that he will make his life of the greater worth by reason of receiving it. The aid which the college gives a student is usually of one of three forms. The most common 213 Financial Relations form is that known as a " scholarship." A scholar- ship usually represents a gift of a certain sum of money made to the college, the income of which is to be used in aiding an individual to get an education. The annual value of a scholarship differs in different instances. In Harvard the annual value runs from $50 to $400, and the aver- age is perhaps about $225. In most colleges the annual value is equivalent to the annual charge for instruction. In others it is less. A second form of aid consists in payments from the general funds of the institution. These pay- ments are frequently made over and above any remission of fees or grants of scholarships. The most conspicuous of these funds is the Price Green- leaf Fund of Harvard University, already alluded to. Among the more notable of recent gifts to educational institutions is the bequest of Edward Austin of about a million dollars to Harvard and to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, to establish beneficiary funds for students. The nature of all these funds in the different colleges is well indicated by the circular which is sent out by one of the Presbyterian colleges of Pennsylvania. It reads as follows : Aid is given to students who would otherwise be unable to enjoy the advantages of a liberal education under the following conditions : 1. The sons of ministers of the Presbyterian Church and candidates for its ministry are admitted to the clas- sical and Latin-scientific courses without any charge for tuition ; while in the technical courses one-half of then* 214 Financial Relations tuition fees is remitted. This rule may be extended in special cases to include other denominations. 2. Young men who have no parents, who are entirely dependent upon their own efforts to get their education, upon presentation of proper certificates of character, in- dustry, and their inability to attend college without aid, receive such assistance as may be available at the time of their application, not exceeding the tuition fee in the classical and Latin-scientific courses, or one-half the tui- tion fee in the technical courses. 3. In special cases, also, aid is given to those not in- cluded in the foregoing classes by the loan of an amount similar to the aid given to those above mentioned, to be repaid in a given period without interest. The period will be sufficiently long after leaving college to give op- portunity for the borrower to become established in his profession or business. A third form of aid consists in the granting of loans to students. This represents a method some- what new ; for it has been only within the past few years that colleges have been willing to loan money to students in large aggregate amounts with the hope of repayment. Absolute grants or gifts had previously been made. The testimony of nearly all — but not all — college presidents is in favor of loans as the best means of aid. This method, of course, labors under the disadvantage of laying a burden upon the graduate ; for most men who are poor in college have not the strength or the means to remove the debt until several years after grad- uation. The conditions which have kept them in poverty up to the age of twenty-two usually tend to continue them in poverty until the age of 215 Financial Relaiions twenty-six. Such a debt easily proves to be a financial burden. Certainly it is not well for a man to face life with heavy pecuniary responsi- bilities resting upon him. But the advantages of the system of loans are great. The method delivers from the fear of pau- perizing the student. It develops self-respect in the student. It proves to be a less serious burden for the college than the method of absolute gifts ; for the loans that are repaid represent an incre- ment of power for aiding the students of the future. The testimony of many college presidents upon the loan as the best method is ample. The Presi- dent of a State university in the Middle West says: I am emphatic in the belief that all pecuniary aid should be granted in the form of a definite loan. Every dollar of this should be repaid with reasonable interest. Wherever possible, there should be some responsible per- son as indorser. The time within which the loan is to be paid may be so extended as to make it more than reasonably sure that repayment can be made without distressing the borrower : but the interest should be paid regularly ; and the principal should at least be provided for by a new note when it becomes due. The indorser should understand that he is held responsible just as he would be upon any other bank paper. It seems to me that, considering the long time of the loan and the com- paratively small amount, no man of real promise can be so situated that he has no friend who will back him in a loan of this kind. The borrower should be made clearly to understand that the only generosity in this whole 216 Financial Relations matter is that which makes it possible for him to borrow^ and that he must make a definite return in order that some one else may have a like benefit. The loans that are thus made are, however, usually debts of honor, and they are usually made on the pledge that they will be repaid when the student is financially able. Of the condition of his finan- cial ability it is usually allowed that the student himself shall be the judge. It is at this point that colleges are passing through diverse experiences. " When I am able," is a phrase which students who have become graduates and have entered into money-making professions interpret in the most diverse ways. For instance, one student who is earn- ing $600 as a teacher judges that he ought to pay up his college debts, and does pay them up. Another student earns this same amount of money for one year, straightway feels that he is justified in be- coming a husband, and soon finds that, as the head of a family, he is not able to do more than support his wife and children. One student who has bor- rowed $500 from the college becomes a lawyer, receives an income of $1200, leases a house at $20 a month, and judges that he is not able to pay his debt to the college. Another graduate, who be- comes a minister, is in debt to the college $600, is unmarried, and earns a salary of $800 a year. Should he be regarded as able to pay his col- lege debt! Should, for instance, a student who borrowed from the college the sum of $700, who is earning $650 as a teacher, be justified in saving his money in order to go to Grermany to win his doc- 217 Financial Relations tor's degree and thus fit himself the better for teaching? These and similar problems present themselves in the experience of every college administrator. In general, the colleges are hav- ing the most varied experience in the repayment of loans. The President of a small although first- rate and historic college in central New York says that loans which he makes privately out of funds under his personal control are always paid, but that loans or remissions made in the tuition are defaulted to the extent of about one-half. The President of a New England college writes : Our experience coincides with the general one, that loans are held as very light obhgations by the students. The working of our loan fund has been a great disap- pointment. ... I fear that the almost universal practice of indiscriminate largess has debauched and demoralized the financial conscience of students. But the President of an Ohio college makes the following statement respecting its scholarship funds : The fund was founded in September, 1882, and the original amount was fifteen thousand dollars. Half of the amount repaid is to be added to the principal. Present endowment .... . . $17,544.05 Total assistance loaned . . . . . 15,710.00 Total loan notes matured . . . . 8,275.00 Total notes taken up ... . r . 5,088.10 Total matured and unpaid . . . . 3,186.90 Total extended by treasurer . . . 1,260.00 Total due and uncollected . . . . 1,926.90 218 Financial Relations Experience would show tliat about eight per cent, of the notes (in recent years) are taken up before maturity, and fifty per cent, at maturity. I do not think that more than one per cent., if so much, is wholly uncoUectable. The President of a Colorado college says : When we have made loans we have had very good experience in having the money paid back with fair promptness. Another college President in one of the Middle States says that he should " estimate the returned loans at about thirty per cent, of the entire amounts loaned." An officer of another conspicuous college also in the Middle States says : Students whose tuition is remitted, and who do not enter the ministry, are expected to refund the entire amount after graduation as soon as they can do so with- out serious financial embarrassment. We do not require a written obligation; and few ever refund! . . . We have a small loan fund, and require those receiving aid from it to give a note payable one year after graduation. These notes are usually paid. The general inference to be derived from the experience of our colleges in respect to the repay- ment of loans is that, if care be taken in the mak- ing of the loans, and if a wise endeavor be made to secure their repayment, the larger part of the amount loaned will be repaid. But it is also evi- dent that, if care and pains be not taken in the making of loans, or if care and pains be lacking in 219 Financial Relations securing repayment, only a small percentage will be repaid. College graduates, like all other members of humanity, need to be reminded of their obliga- tions. One should not neglect to say that in this whole business is a single element which is evil, and only evil. This element relates to the influence of the debt over the man who owes it, who in ethical indifference or in financial irresponsibility allows the obligation to run on year after year without making any attempt to remove it. The condition in which he allows himself to be arises from his lack of honor, and this instance of his faithlessness tends to augment the evil out of which it itself springs. If he be at all sensitive, too, the debt often returns to his mind in a way to lessen the pleasure which the thought of his college ought to give him, and also it may tend to lessen the thor- oughness of his enjoyment in many of the plea- sures of life to which general principles give him a full right. It is to be said that there are stu- dents, and poor and worthy ones, too, to whom the college should not, even for their own sake, loan a dollar. They must be saved from themselves. As to the amount that should thus be loaned to students, two or three rules are evident : First, the amount should be sufficient to make an education possible. Second, the amount should not be so large as to lessen the self-respect or the self-activ- ity of the recipient. And, third, the amount should be sufficient to restrain the student from doing too much work for self-support ; for the college finds 220 Financial Relations that certain men of activity, who are unwilling to borrow money, sacrifice the value of their col- lege course for the sake of earning money. One remark should be added to this general dis- cussion. It is the lack of wisdom shown in aiding special classes of students. For generations the American college has been inclined to aid those who propose to become ministers, and also those who are the sons of ministers or of missionaries. The bestowal of this kind of aid has arisen in no small degree from the colleges being, in their origin, institutions for the education of ministers. The larger part of our colleges, too, have been founded by churches, or by the ministers of these churches. Therefore favor has been shown to the sons of clergymen and to those who propose to become clergymen. It cannot now be doubted that this method is thoroughly bad. It tends to give advantages to one class— or it may be said that it tends to put disadvantages upon one class —of students, who should not be thus subjected to a disadvantage, and who, if the condition be re- garded as an advantage, should not receive this benefit. Students in colleges do not, as a rule, possess sufficient maturity, or have not adequately considered the purpose of their collegiate career, to make a just claim for pecuniary aid upon this ground. Let students be aided as individuals, but never let them be helped because they are, or pro- pose to be, members of a certain professional or other class. I do not now say a word with reference to those 221 Financial Relations who propose to become ministers who have akeady entered upon their professional studies. This is a question entirely apart from granting aid to them while they are undergraduates. The following principles emerge from these con- siderations, which should be maintained in giving aid to students in college: 1. Every grant of aid should be made upon the ground of the claims of the individual concerned. The good health and promise of life of the appli- cant should be considered. 2. In granting aid, evidence should be based so far as possible upon the man himself rather than upon testimony about the man. 3. The amount of aid granted should vary according to the need, character, and promise of usefulness of the applicant. 4. In case testimony is required, the testimony should be secured from witnesses outside the appli- cant's family as well as within. 5. All aid should promote the self-respect and manliness of the student receiving it. 6. No aid should be given to classes of students as classes. 7. All grants of aid should be confined to one year ; and no assurance should be given of aid for more than one year, unless the grounds of the award still obtain. 8. Every wise and proper means should be used to impress upon the student the debt of gratitude that he owes the college ; but there should be no badgering. 222 Financial Relations 9. The college should follow up each loan with courteous care, in order to secure repayment. IV USELESS THOUGH WELL-MEANT ENDOWMENT Not for one instant can it be doubted that the cause of the higher education represents the best object for the bestowal of general benevolence. Mr. Courtney Stanhope Kenny, in his remarkable book, "Endowed Charities" (pp. 238-240), suggests six rules for benevolence : 1. Of two ways of palliating an evil, we must choose the more powerful. 2. Relief which removes the causes of the evil is better than that which palliates or increases it. 3. If we must choose among forms of relief that only assuage the evil without removing its cause, those— if of equal potency — are to he preferred which produce least new evil. 4. The graver the evil, the more desirable is the charity that relieves it. 5. An inevitable evil is more deserving of relief than an avoidable one. 6. An unexpected evil is more deserving of relief than one that could be foreseen. These rules are wise, but it is to be said at once that they are largely of a negative charac- ter; they are rules, too, rather than principles. A principle of benevolence, as that principle 22} Financial Relations may be applied to endowment, is that endowments should be given to those philanthropic works the demand for which we wish to increase. Although this principle has certain evident limitations or exceptions, yet its application is broad and gen- erally sound. It applies to the ordinary stable conditions of life. One does not wish the de- mand for poorhouses to increase, and poorhouses should not be endowed; one does not wish the demand for institutions and agencies for relieving the poor to increase, and no one of these institu- tions and agencies is a worthy object for endow- ment. But one does wish the demand for education, higher and lower, and the demand for scientific re- search, to increase, and these causes are worthy objects of endowment. By endowing poorhouses one makes paupers ; by endowing colleges one makes scholars. Each endowment creates what it is ordained to create. It is to be said that the famous arguments of Turgot and of Adam Smith against foundations have rather gained than diminished in force as the arguments are applied to causes other than the higher education. Turgot's argument in the article on " Foundations " in the " Encyclopedic " is still a masterpiece. He states that the intellectual diffi- culties are so great, and the social problems so complex, which one who wishes to be a founder must meet, that he must be the boldest man who would be willing to run such risks. It is difficult, too, for the philanthropist to diagnose the disease and to distinguish its essential nature beneath 224 Financial Relations superficial appearances. He is in peril of mistak- ing effect for cause, and cause for effect. Even if lie has, at great pains, reached the root of the disease, the difficulty of discovering a remedy is no less great. Many remedies which have been applied have increased the evil, as, for instance, the erec- tion of foundling hospitals, which has tended to augment the evil out of which the need for such hospitals has grown. Furthermore, if a proper remedy be discovered for an evil for a short time, it is very much more difficult to apply this remedy through the long time in which a foundation is supposed to last. The difficulties, therefore, of making a worthy foundation are so great that Turgot believes that it is better not to attempt to lay foundations. This argument is reinforced by Adam Smith. The great economist asks : Have these public endowments contributed in general to promote the end of their institutions? Have they contributed to encourage the diligence and to improve the abilities of the teachers? Have they directed the course of education toward objects more useful, both to the individual and to the public, than those to which it would naturally have gone of its own accord ? ... In every profession the exertion of the greater part of those who exercise it is always in proportion to the necessity they are under of making that exertion. . . . The endow- ments of schools and colleges have necessarily diminished more or less the necessity of application in the teachers.^ 1 "The Wealth of Nations," Book V, Part III. Chap. I. Art. II, " Of the Expense of the Institutions for the Education of Youth." 16 225 Financial Relations But it is to be said that the argument of Turgot is directed toward the limitation of certain evils ; it is not directed toward the augmentation of the good. It is evident that his argument does not apply to educational endowments with anything like the force with which it applies to charitable endow- ments. The pursuit of knowledge, the promotion of research, the offering of opportunities for cul- ture, the establishment of facilities for learning, will represent the worthiest objects so long as humanity has a being at all like its present being. The evils which the great Frenchman alludes to, however alarming in the case of many charities of England, do not appear in the administrations of the two oldest and most illustrious universities of England. These evils, too, have never appeared in any appreciable degree in the life and work of American colleges. In reference to the argument of Adam Smith, it is to be said, and briefly, that endowment is abso- lutely necessary to the carrying on of the higher education. The revenue derived from fees is far from being sufficient to support the college or the university. The general evil to which he alludes may attend the establishment of certain founda- tions, but without the foundations no university could maintain its existence for a year. The uni- versities of England, of the United States, and of Germany are alike in not being able to support themselves on the fees received from their stu- dents. The proper province of endowment is repre- 226 Financial Relations seuted in the spiritual and intellectual interests of man rather than in his physical and material in- terests. Voluntary benevolence need not concern itself with evils which the state can and will remedy. Those evils which are the most obvious are physical and material evils. Private and vol- untary benevolence should therefore concern itself first with the intellectual and spiritual welfare of man. The individual need not attempt to do that which the community as a legal corporate body will do. It is also to be said, and with gratitude, that organized society is constantly enlarging its field of beneficence; it is constantly taking up work and works which were formerly done through in- dividuals. As the man who is by nature a pioneer retires into the forest at each advance of orderly and civilized society, so the pioneer in good works surrenders fields which he has formerly worked to the organized beneficence of the community. The kindergarten schools of certain cities were established and maintained for years by private beneficence. Their usefulness in time became so evident that they have been incorporated into the public-school system. The relief of the poor was formerly a matter for private beneficence. It has now largely come to be a matter of public and legal action. The physical and material evils of human- ity are more evident to the ordinary observer than the spiritual and intellectual needs, and these more evident needs are first taken up by the community, and afterward the less apparent ones — the spiritual and intellectual. And therefore, until the organ- 227 Financial Relations ized community is able to perceive these spiritual and intellectual needs, and to supply them, they present the most promising field for voluntary and personal beneficence. One cannot deny that the history of endowments other than educational is, on the whole, a rather sad one. Such history hardly belongs to the United States. This nation is altogether too young, and has been too poor, to have made much history of this character. Yet when one turns to the mother-country he finds that the time has been long enough and wealth has been sufficient to allow the making of a history of en- dowed charities. This history furnishes sufficient opportunity for keen and profound analysis and diagnosis. For the evils of the community have not been understood. Remedies have not been adjusted to the evils. Sums too large have been donated to remove small evils, and the result has been an increase of evils ; sums too small have been donated to remove lai*ge evils, and the result has been unremunerative expenditure. Help has too often been given in such a way as to take away the power of self-help. Endowments have bee-n rendered superfluous through change of conditions. The law of proportions has not been observed. Some instances of these proportions are fur- nished by Mr. Kenny in his book, "Endowed Charities " : Admiral B. M. Kelly left ninety thousand pounds to found a school for sons of officers in the navy. The lads were to have a first-class education up to the 228 Financial Relations age of eighteen. But the head-master's salary was only to amount to " the value of one hundred bushels of wheat/' which, as the charity commissioners said, was ''ludicrously inadequate." Many further difBculties arose " from the minuteness with which the testator, who was a sailor, and evidently knew little about schools," had given directions. We have pointed out many important endowments where very large funds are producing at present little or even no result. Thus, Thame Grammar School had two masters and one bo}^ 5 and those at Sutton Coldfield (en- dowed with £467 a year), Mancetter (£288 a year), and Little Walsingham (£110 a year) were sometimes with- out any boys at all, while the evidence of the assistant commissioners included such testimony as the following : ''At Bath an income of £461 appears to hinder rather than promote the education of the citizens, and does nothing for the neighborhood." "The fine foundation at Market Bosworth, now £792 a year, is reported to be at present useless." Gloucestershire and Herefordshire require special notice for the generally unsatisfactory condition of their endowed schools. "Gloucestershire has seventeen foundations for secondary education, and none of these is reported to be at all efficient." " It is difficult to understand that Masham School serves any useful purpose." "A school of this kind [Easingwold] does great harm to the community." " This school [Bridlington] in its present state hinders rather than promotes the civilization of the place." "Much of the vitality of Doncaster School is owing to the fact that it possesses none of the wealth which in so many instances proves to be an encouragement to indolence." Mr. Cumin tells the story of an old lady who gave away twenty pounds' worth of flannel every Christmas. The Christmas after she died the poor people came to the 229 Financial Relations rector and complained, " If we had known she was going to die, we would have saved our harvest money and bought flannel." An instance of a very comprehensive and yet very futile foundation is afforded by that of Mr, Henry Smith, who in 1626 left large sums for four objects. Part was to go in redeeming captives from pirates ; but since 1723 no captive has been found on whom it could be spent. Part, now producing £8235 a year, was to go in doles, and is distributed, with the usual results, among 209 dis- tricts, in one of which it is given to one household out of every two, in another to two households out of every three, and in another, according to the vicar, " a charity was never worse applied; its effects are demoralizing." Part, again, was reserved for Mr. Smith's poor relations, and is still distributed among them to the extent of £6797 a year, with the result of making it the interest of some hundreds of persons not to work and get on in life. The final part was to be devoted to buying impro- priations for preachers, and its income is distributed among the poor clergy, though the resulting benefit is found to be more than counterbalanced by the disap- pointment caused to the unsuccessful applicants, the trouble of the canvassing, and the perilous habit which it too often inspires of begging with colorable tales of poverty. These instances, 'whicli, though nnmerous, might be greatly increased, are more than sufficient to prove the dov^nright, sheer, absolute foolishness of many benevolent men. On the whole, men's hearts are better than their heads, their v^ills than their intellects. Men often choose the highest objects known to them, and with the heartiest •230 Financial Relations enthusiasm adopt schemes of benevolence which seem to them the wisest. But their knowledge is narrow, and their schemes for executing their benevolent intentions are not wise. The number of men and women who every day are devoting their fortunes, time, and labor to benevolence is constantly increasing. One cannot witness these abounding examples of sacrifice without feelings of the deepest gratitude. But one is too often saddened and chagrined on learning that these benevolences, so generously conceived, are not the product of a comprehensive and reflective wisdom. Too often they represent wasted labor and fruitless self-sacrifice. Such a condition, however, does not usually belong to endowments given to the higher educa- tion; for the cause of the higher education is so comprehensive, and its interests so diverse, that it is only with extreme and most complete foolishness that one can make a mistake in giving to the col- lege or university. For the university is designed to make the best man ; and it commands the ser- vices of the best men as teachers of youth, as trustees of funds, and as administrators of large undertakings. No corporations in the United States are able to command so great talent as the cr liege corporations. One reason of this present condition is found in the exalted purposes which the college is ordained to secure. A further reason lies in the fact that the financial trusts placed in these administrators are large. The great number of small endowments made in the cause of charity 231 Financial Relations in England has in many cases resulted in waste, because the smallness of these sums could not command men of ability in their management. But the American college holding large sums of money has been able to secure the wisest legal talent and the most worthy moral ability. It is also not to be forgotten that the college stands for certain lasting needs of humanity. One can hardly conceive of changes occurring in the race so great as to render the need of a trained judgment and the usefulness of stores of knowledge superfluous. The changes in the condition of humanity have rendered many trusts absolutely worthless. Such changes cannot, with any degree of probability, occur in those conditions which education repre- sents to such an extent that funds given to that cause will become worthless. Furthermore, the higher education represents conditions which are the least obtrusive. The physical sufferings of man appeal, as I have inti- mated, to every one; his intellectual wants do not. Those persons, therefore, to whom these wants do appeal as worthy should be especially solicitous to fill them. The college and the uni- versity also appeal to the benevolence of the individual through the fact that it is a question how far the community should tax itself for the promotion of the higher intellectual welfare. But there is no question that the higher intellectual interests of men are vitally related to all the in- terests of humanity. It is therefore of supreme importance that these interests be conserved, and 2}2 Financial Relations they therefore present themselves to one who has the welfare of the race at heart with peculiar persuasiveness. It is, moreover, never to be for- gotten that the college represents the most com- prehensive interest of humanity. This considera- tion is well exemplified in the fact that, in the revision of English charities by the charity com- missioners, the cause of education was judged to be the best cause to receive endowments which had been created for purposes and objects now no longer possible of fulfilment. It was agreed that endowments which had been established for the following purposes — " doles in money or kind ; marriage portions; redemption of prisoners and captives ; relief of poor prisoners for debt ; loans ; apprenticeship fees; advancement in life; or any purposes which have failed altogether or have be- come insignificant in comparison with the magni- tude of the endowment, if originally given to charitable uses in or before the year of our Lord one thousand and eight hundred " ^ — should be applied to the advancement of education. Truths of this character, recognized throughout the history of this country, and especially in the last seventy-five years, have resulted in the dona- tion of large sums of money to American colleges and universities. In England the money that is given to public uses usually goes to the establish- ment of a charity. There poverty has become a disease ; charity deals with it as a disease. In Eng- land, too, the interest of wealthy men is largely 1 Kenny, "Endowed Charities," p. 198. Financial Relations given to the establishment of a family. One can- not read the wills of Englishmen without seeing that money is usually retained in the family. Such a purpose or principle of founding a family has small value in a new country. One reason of this condition is found in the fact that in the newer country families are not permanent. They are like a wheel — in constant revolution ; the highest part soon becomes the lowest, and the lowest high- est. There does not seem to be any strong desire to make them permanent. In England the domes- tic and the charitable demands for money are so great that Oxford and Cambridge are failing to receive their just proportion. In the United States institutions are more permanent than families; and of all our institutions those of the higher education — the college, the university — are the most permanent. The colleges and the univer- sities are therefore the objects of special benevo- lence. In making an educational or other foundation a founder should bear in mind that his foundation is designed to last forever. He should therefore constantly have in sight the fact that the future is sure to bring fundamental changes, and he should not make the conditions attending his gift so exact that it may at some time become worthless through the impossibility of their fulfilment. It is said that there are more than two thousand en- dowments for primary education in England which are now rendered absolutely unnecessary through the establishment of schools aided by the govern- 234 Financial Relations ment. A founder, therefore, should in general be content with a statement of his comprehensive purpose. He will find it far better to trust the men of the future than to try to perpetuate pres- ent methods. This endeavor to make the standards and methods of the time of a founder the standards and methods of all time receives illustration in our own recent history. The endeavor to give an exact interpretation to certain terms in the fundamental instruments of the Theological Seminary at An- dover resulted in serious loss to the seminary; and the endeavor of certain members and friends of the official Board of the seminary to interpret the ancient documents in the light of general prin- ciples has seemed to some to result in a failure rightly to appreciate the importance of the specific trust that was committed to the Board. Harvard College, too, in the early part of the eighteenth century, received, a gift to found a certain lecture- ship under certain conditions. By his last will Paul Dudley "gave to Harvard College one hun- dred pounds sterling, to be applied as he should direct ; and by an instrument under his hand and seal he afterward ordered the yearly interest to be applied to supporting an anniversary sermon or lecture, to be preached at the college, on the following topics. The first lecture was to be *for the proving, explaining, and proper use and improvement of the principles of natural reli- gion'; the second, 'for the confirmation, illustra- tion, and improvement of the great articles of the 235 Financial Relations Ciiristian religion'; the third, 'for the detecting, convicting, and exposing the idolatry, errors, and superstitions of the Romish Church'; the fourth, 'for maintaining, explaining, and proving the validity of the ordination of ministers or pastors of the churches, and of their administration of the sacraments or ordinances of religion, as the same hath been practised in New England from the first beginning of it, and so continued to this day.'"^ In the college year of 1890-91 the Dudleyan lecturer was the Right Rev. Bishop John J. Keane, at that time rector of the Catholic University of America. His subject, it should be added, was : " For the con- firmation, illustration, and improvement of the great articles of the Christian religion, properly so called, or the revelation which Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was pleased to make, first by himself, and afterward by his holy apostles, to his church and the world for their salvation." Gifts made to a college or any other philanthropic institutions are very liable to reflect the conditions of the times. The gifts made to Yale College in the administration of President Clap, 1740-66, are largely qualified by the religious and ecclesiastical beliefs and controversies of the middle decades of the eighteenth century. Certain scholarships in the Yale Divinity School can be enjoyed only by those who are " of decided and hearty anti-slavery character, sentiments, and sympathies." It is suffi- cient to say that these scholarships were established in the year 1864. 1 Josiah Quincy, "History of Harvard University," Vol. H, p. 139. 2}6 Financial Relations It is not wise for a founder to say exactly what men shall believe, or in what terms they shall ex- press their belief, a hundred years, or two hundred years, or five thousand years after he is dead. It is wiser for him to intrust his general purpose, with- out specific conditions, to the men of the future. Yet it is to be presumed that certain founders will be short-sighted, and that the most generous may lack wisdom. It is therefore fitting that the state should take upon itself the duty of supervising, so far as it is able, all foundations and trusts, and also of ultimately reversing all those which fail to secure their purposes. The need is not so great in America as in England; but even in America it would be well for the state to maintain a board of supervisors of philanthropic foundations. As Mr. Kenny says : The periodical investigation of charity affairs by a cen- tral authority is requisite to stimulate the activity of the administrators and the economy of their administration. For the former purpose, the state must periodically in- quire if the number of administrators is being kept up by new elections to its normal standard, and with what regularity each of them attends the meetings of the body. For the latter, it must periodically inquire into the receipts and expenditures of the charity. The returns of actual revenue must, of course, be checked by comparison with the amount of the revenue-producing capital. Of that amount the state must furnish itself with exact in- formation by requiring the immediate registration of every charitable gift. In old countries, where philan- thropy has run a long course before the national life has 237 Financial Relations reached tlie stage of centralization at which such a reg- ister becomes possible, its contents (like the English en- rolments under the Act of 1736) will cover only the later foundations. In such a case it must be supplemented by a general inquiry into the present wealth of the earlier ones.i This need of the revision of foundations is clearly expressed by John Stuart Mill in one of his essays. He says : At the head of the foundations which existed in the time of Turgot was the Catholic hierarchy, then almost effete, which had become irreconcilably hostile to the progress of the human mind, because that progress was no longer compatible with belief in its tenets, and which, to stand its ground against the advance of incredulity, had been driven to knit itself closely with the temporal despotism, to which it had once been a substantial, and the only existing, impediment and control. After this came monastic bodies, constituted ostensibly for the pur- pose, which derived their value chiefly from superstition, and now not even fulfilling what they professed, bodies of most of which the very existence had become one vast and continued imposture. Next came universities and academical institutions, which had once taught all that was then known, but, having ever since indulged their ease by remaining stationary, found it for their interest that knowledge should do so, too— institutions for edu- cation which kept a century behind the community they affected to educate, who, when Descartes appeared, pub- licly censured him for differing from Aristotle, and, when Newton appeared, anathematized him for differing from Descartes. There were hospitals which killed more 1 Kenny, "Endowed Charities," p. 134. 238 Financial Relations of their unhappy patients than they cured ; and charities of which the superintendents, like the licentiate in " Gil Bias/' got rich by taking care of the affairs of the poor, or which at best made twenty beggars by giving or pretending to give a miserable and dependent pittance to one. The foundations, therefore, were among the grossest and most conspicuous of the familiar abuses of the time ; and beneath their shade flourished and multiplied large classes of men by interest and habit the protectors of all abuses whatsoever. What wonder that a life spent in practical struggle against abuses should have strongly prepossessed Turgot against foundations in general. Yet the evils existed, not because there were foundations, but because those foundations were perpetuities, and because provision was not made for their continual modification to meet the wants of each successive age.^ Every college, like every bank, in the United States, should frequently submit to a board con- stituted by legal authority a statement of its finan- cial condition, of the various trusts under which it holds its funds, and of the use which it makes of the income thence derived. Every institution of charity should be constantly ready to give an account of its stewardship. The State should supervise trusts which are made under its au- thority. The need of this supervision is not at present urgent; for college funds are small, they are at present well managed, and the period of our national existence has not been long enough to introduce many fundamental changes into society. 1 Mill, "Dissertations and Discussions," Vol. I, p. 52. 2^9 Financial Relations But it will become urgent with, enlarging collegiate wealth and increasing diversity of conditions. This review brings us to certain rather impor- tant conclusions, for the number of people in the United States who desire to make the noblest and most lasting use of their wealth is already large and is constantly increasing. One conclusion is that it is not the part of wisdom to surround a foundation with very specific conditions. A second is that if a gift is so surrounded, means of relief should be afforded in a general permission to use it in the promotion of a general purpose. A third con- clusion is that a founder should trust the men of the future to carry out his general purpose. He should not lay down certain narrow methods or merely technical rules for their following. The good men of A.D. 3901 will have more wisdom for administer- ing a trust made two thousand years before than any man living in 1901 can suggest to them. The last conclusion, which English and American his- tory confirms, is that the agency through which wealth— be it ten thousand dollars or ten millions — is most certain of doing the most good, to the most people, for the longest time, and in the widest realms, is the college and the university. V FREEDOM FEOM TAXATION The constitutions of the several States usually declare that every member of society shall pay his 240 Financial Relations just share toward tlie support of the government. It is affirmed that all property shall bear its proper proportion of taxation. The constitutions of the several States also make certain exemptions from taxation. These exemptions usually include pub- lic school-houses and apparatus, churches, public libraries, academies, colleges, and universities. The constitutional provisions respecting exemp- tions are commonly made good in the statutory law. This law is differently expressed in the statutes of the different States, but in general the law is the same. It exempts from taxation property used for collegiate and similar purposes. In Mas- sachusetts a well-known statute^ declares, "The personal property of literary, benevolent, charita- ble, and scientific institutions and temperance societies incorporated within this commonwealth, and the real estate belonging to such institutions occupied by them or their officers for the purposes for which they were incorporated," are free from taxation. The Connecticut statute is more specific. It runs as follows : " Funds and estates which have been or may be granted to the President and Fel- lows of Yale College, Trinity College, or Wesleyan University, and by them respectively invested and held for the use of such institutions, shall, with the income thereof, remain exempt from tax- ation, provided that neither of said corporations shall ever hold in this State real estate free from taxation affording an annual income of more than 1 Supplements to the Public Statutes of Massachusetts, 1889-95, c. 465. ^^ 241 Financial Relations six thousand dollars." The New York statute is more akin to that of Massachusetts : " Every build- ing erected for the use of a college," and used by it, and all stocks owned by literary and charitable institutions, are free from taxation. The statutes of Ohio and of Illinois are similar. The essential meaning of these laws, as inter- preted by the courts, is that the property of a col- lege necessarily used for collegiate purposes is not to be taxed. In property necessarily used for col- legiate purposes are usually included (1) the ground requisite for the location of buildings and property for the securing of the fitting use of these build- ings, (2) halls for the purposes of giving and hear- ing lectures and recitations, (3) laboratories and their apparatus, (4) libraries, including both build- ings and books, (5) gymnasium and its apparatus, (6) astronomical observatories and their apparatus. Regarding the taxing of property of this character I am not aware that any question has arisen. Such property is so necessary for the maintenance of the college that without it the college could not be maintained. The essential meaning of the statute, moreover, is in most States— with possible exceptions aris- ing from specific legislation— that real property belonging to a college which is owned for the purpose of securing revenue is not exempted from taxation. Such property ordinarily includes buildings leased for commercial and similar pur- poses. It is well known that a few of the larger, older, or more conspicuous colleges have invested 242 Financial Relations large amounts of their funds in real estate. Har- vard owns large values in real property in Boston, Columbia in New York, and Chicago University in Chicago. In such cases the college corporation becomes a landlord, and is, so far as I know, in every instance prepared to assent to a proper imposition of taxation, like any other landlord. To this general condition there are, of course, a few exceptions. One of these exceptions belongs to Harvard College. By a certain privilege granted in the Charter of 1650 Harvard College was ex- empted from all taxes on real estate not exceeding the value at that time of five hundred pounds per annum. Under this exemption an estate on Wash- ington Street, Boston, now occupied by a book- selling and book-publishing house, is free from taxes. The Northwestern University of Illinois also enjoys a similar exemption upon certain of its holdings of valuable real estate in the city of Chicago. But between property which a college must pos- sess in order to be a college and to do college work and property which it does possess in order to raise a revenue, may lie, and does lie, property which, on the one hand, is not absolutely neces- sary to the existence and maintenance of the col- lege, but which yet does promote its maintenance and augment its efficiency as a means of education, and, on the other hand, property which has no relation at all to the immediate promotion of the great purposes of the college, and yet which does result in actually increasing the revenue of the 243 Financial Relations college. Such property placed midway between property absolutely necessary for collegiate pur- poses and property of an income-bearing char- acter includes such real estate as dormitories, club-houses occupied by the students, and dwell- ing-houses occupied by the professors. At exactly this point falls the whole ictus of the whole ques- tion of the taxation of college property. The simple question is whether property of this sort should be taxed or should be exempted from tax- ation. It is clear that dormitories are not necessary for the maintenance of certain colleges, for certain colleges do exist and are efficient without dormi- tories. Columbia University has no dormitories ; likewise the University of Michigan and the Uni- versity of Minnesota, institutions enrolling some three thousand students each, are without dormi- tories. On the other hand, many colleges, and certainly most of the older colleges, have adopted the dormitory system of residence. To remove Holworthy or Thayer or Weld from Harvard, or Farnham or Durfee from Yale, or old Nassau from Princeton, would represent an elimination of what has proved to very many men a valuable condition of their college course. To exclude the dormitory method from Vassar or from Wellesley or from Smith or from Bryn Mawr would probably re- sult in the dissolution of the colleges themselves. Neither Poughkeepsie nor the town of Wellesley nor the city of Northampton nor the village of Bryn Mawr could offer the proper residences for 244 Financial Relations the students who are at present members of these institutions. On the other hand, although the Western Reserve College for Women has a dormitory, yet this college could exist if this dormitory were not built. Radcliffe College in Cambridge has enjoyedprosperity without offering special homes to its students. It is also to be said that the income from certain of these halls of residence amounts to a large an- nual revenue. The money thus derived is put into the college chest and is spent for purposes similar to those for which money derived from business blocks or from investments in bonds and stocks is used. It may, therefore, be af&rmed that in certain colleges the dormitory is as necessary to the carry- ing on of the college as is a hall of recitation. In other colleges it is not so necessary. In certain col- leges the claim might worthily be made, upon the evidence presented on one side, that the dormi- tory is conducive to the prosperity of the col- lege. In the same colleges arguments might be presented showing that the dormitory is of slight value. The verdict in respect to the taxation of such property, on whatever ground or of whatever content, would not be generally satisfactory. The legal relation in which the houses belonging to the college corporation and occupied by college teachers stand is somewhat similar and somewhat dissimilar to that constituted by the dormitories of the students. The dwelling-house owned by a college and occupied by a teacher is primarily used 245 7 Financial Relations as a means of increasing the income of tlie college. The professor occupying it does not receive so large an annual stipend from the college as he would were he not occupying it. This dwelling- house, therefore, stands on the basis of an income- bearing business block. It is also evident that in many cases, though not in all, it is especially pro- motive of the welfare of the college for profes- sors to occupy houses in close proximity to the college. A few professors in certain of our larger colleges situated in a metropolis may live a dozen or more miles from the halls of lectures and recita- tions, but in other instances such conditions are not possible. Certainly it would usually be advan- tageous for all the residences of college teachers to be near to the college halls. The worth of a teacher to a college is promoted by the intimacy of his association with all college elements and relations. It is therefore evident that the statute of ex- emptions touching college property as embodied in the unnecessary and yet income-producing real estate represents one of those laws which the dif- ferent courts in different States, and the same court in the same State with different judges on the bench, might interpret differently. Among the more famous cases decided by the Massachusetts court touching the taxation of col- lege property is the case of the distinguished mathematician. Professor Benjamin Peirce, versus the inhabitants of Cambridge. This case was decided in January,. 1849. It appears that the 246 Financial Relations President and Fellows of Harvard College built a dwelling-house on land of the corporation within the college yard, and leased the same to Professor Peirce, to be occupied by him and his family as a residence at a certain annual charge. The court held that this property thus occupied could not be exempt, although in a later decision of the court upon a similar matter it was affirmed that if the house had been occupied by Professor Peirce with- out his paying rent it could have been exempted. A somewhat similar case was decided in favor of an institution of learning nineteen years after the case of Professor Peirce. This was a case of the Trustees of Wesleyan Academy of Wilbraham, Massachusetts, against the town of Wilbraham. It appears that the Trustees of the academy de- sired that a farm and certain farming stock belong- ing to them and used for the support of the academy be exempted from taxation. The decision of the court was, " A farm and the farming stock owned by an institution incorporated within this com- monwealth for the education of youth, and by it worked solely to raise produce for the boarding- house kept by the institution to supply board to the students at its actual cost, is exempted." In another Massachusetts case, the Massachusetts General Hospital versus the inhabitants of Somer- ville, it was held by the court that the purposes for which the real estate is used represent the ground upon which exemption may be claimed. Among the more recent and more important of all decisions is that rendered by the Supreme Court 247 Financial Relations of Massachusetts in the case of Williams College and Williamstown. In this decision it is declared that: Lands with dwelling-houses thereon owned by a college and occupied as residences by persons engaged solely in the instruction or government of the college or in the care of its property, under parole agreements whereby each is to receive as salary a stated sum monthly and the use of the estate while in the service of the college, for which use a certain sum is deducted from the amount of the salary, are not exempt from taxation under Public Statutes, c. 11, sec. 5, cl. 3, as amended by Statutes of 1889, c. 465. But a still more important case is the recent case known as " the President and Fellows of Har- vard College versus the assessors of Cambridge." This is a case which will probably rank along with the case of Professor Benjamin Peirce versus the inhabitants of Cambridge, decided in January, 1849. The essence of the second case, as also, in part at least, the basis of the earlier case, is found in the Massachusetts Constitution of 1780, in which it is declared that the " President and Fellows of Harvard College, in their corporate capacity, and their successors in that capacity, their officers, and servants, shall have, hold, use, exercise, and enjoy all powers, authorities, rights, liberties, privileges, immunities, and franchises which they now have, or are entitled to have, hold, use, exercise, and enjoy; and the same are hereby ratified and con- firmed unto them, the said President and Fellows 248 Financial Relations of Harvard College, and to their successors, and to their officers and servants, respectively, forever." Elsewhere in the Constitution it is provided that " wisdom and knowledge, as well as virtue, diffused generally among the body of the people, being necessary for the preservation of their rights and liberties, and as these depend on spreading the opportunities and advantages of education in the various parts of the country and among the differ- ent orders of the people, it shall be the duty of the legislatures and magistrates, in all future periods of the commonwealth, to cherish the interests of literature and science, and all seminaries of them, especially the university at Cambridge, public schools and grammar schools in the towns." The method of carrying out these provisions of the Constitution is a statute which, in its final form of 1889, provides that "the personal property of literary, benevolent, charitable, and scientific in- stitutions and temperance societies incorporated within this commonwealth, and the real estate belonging to such institutions, occupied by them or their officers for the purpose for which they are incorporated," shall be exempt from taxation. The essence of this decision of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts is that property belonging to a college and used for the administration of col- lege affairs is exempt from taxation. In property used for college purposes are included college dor- mitories and dining-halls, the house of the Presi- dent, and houses occupied by Deans and similar officers. 249 Financial Relations In Ohio, witli a law quite similar to the Massa- chusetts law and that of other States, the courts have usually decreed that property used imme- diately and directly for educational purposes is exempt, but that property used for the support of education is not exempt. For instance, the property of Western Reserve University, includ- ing halls of recitation, libraries, laboratories, is free from taxation, but a piece of land which the university bought in the year 1890, lying near to but separated from the university campus, al- though bought for the purpose of erecting a col- lege building thereupon, could not be exempted. It was said by the assessors that if a building, however small, were thereon erected and used for college purposes, the tract should be made free from tax3,tion, but until the land was put to that specified purpose it must bear its share of the public burden. A similar view is held in certain States respecting the taxation of ecclesiastical prop- erty. The building used for purposes of worship and of instruction is free from taxes, but the par- sonage or the place of resideiice of priest or min- ister is taxed. A decision made in the Illinois courts in the case of the Northwestern University is similar. Prop- erty is not to be exempted which is owned by educational corporations which is not used itself directly in aid of educational purposes and which is held for profit merely, although the profits are devoted to the purposes of education. It is to be observed that the present movement 250 Financial Relations toward the taxation of college property is a munici- pal movement. It has arisen in and from the towns or cities in which the colleges themselves are lo- cated. The demand would not have arisen at all from the States themselves. Cambridge, not Mas- sachusetts, asks that the property of Harvard University be taxed. Williamstown, and not Mas- sachusetts, asks that the property of Williams Col- lege be taxed. New Haven, and not Connecticut, asks that the property of Yale University be taxed. Of course several motives may arise in causing the assessors of a town to use their presumed right to tax college property. The motive to lessen the rate of taxation is usually one, and a worthy motive. The desire to make the amount of tax- able property as large as possible in order to lessen the burden of each citizen is a laudable desire. Both in Cambridge, Williamstown, and Wellesley the real-estate holdings of the colleges represent a proportion of the taxable realty of those towns, and in the case of Wellesley and Williamstown the proportion is large. But behind this motive, in certain college towns, lies as a motive a certain peculiar and interesting condition. It is the con- dition of antagonism or indifference. This condi- tion is frequently found to exist between the college people and the town people. This condi- tion is not a condition of the "town" versus the "gown," which thrusts itself forward in juvenile or other riots, and which has, indeed, emerged in conflicts of many sorts for a thousand years of academic history, but it is a condition simply of 251 Financial Relations more or less marked antagonism and indifference. The antagonism, be it said, exists more on the part of the town, and the indifference more on the part of the college. This relation, or lack of relation, grows out of certain advantages possessed by the scholarly, cultured, and apparently well-to-do part of the community which are not possessed by those who may have no college association. This condi- tion is a condition of human nature. It cannot be altered except by altering human nature. Be it said, however, that this sentiment of antagonism exists only in a part of the non-collegiate com- munity ; and be it also said that this mood of in- difference is not so strong as most people believe. For the interest of the college people in the town or city in which the college is located is an interest usually broad if not keen. I also believe that the antagonism that is sometimes rather rampant on the part of the community against the college which is found in its midst is not so ^dolent as is frequently believed. For the advantages which a college can render to a community are of the greatest worth. The mere naming of them carries along an intimation of their value. The college usually fur- nishes to the community noble specimens of the art of the architect and of the landscape-gardener. The best buildings and the most precious scenes of Cam- bridge and Xew Haven, of Amherst and of Wil- liamstown, are the college buildings and the college grounds. The college also gives to the community museums, libraries, art-galleries for the preserva- tion or the exhibition of the great works of nature 252 Financial Relations or of man. It is not also to be denied that the college adds to the resident body of the community a certain number of families of education and of culture, whose presence in the community tends to elevate its standards of living and to ennoble its sentiments. Into the smaller town, too, the col- lege brings from time to time great men, the seeing of whom and the hearing of whom represent a positive addition to the best forces of the com- munity. It is further to be noted that the college offers to the community an example of the con- tinuity of the highest life. In a new community such an example is of the greatest worth. The college, furthermore, extends the reputation of the town in which it is located. Who' would have known of Hanover but for Dartmouth ! or who of Brunswick but for BowdoinI or who of Oberlin but for the college bearing its name? These in- stances, and many others that might be named, are proof of the worth of a college to the com- munity. Townships and municipalities usually in advance of the location of a college recognize what a college may do for the community in which it is placed. If it is known that a college is to be founded in a certain general neighborhood, each town of that neighborhood becomes a claimant. Portland, Yar- mouth, and other places, as well as Brunswick, asked for the location of Bowdoin. Akron gave $60,000 m order to secure Buchtel College. Fair- field, Iowa, a small town, gave $29,000 that Par- sons College might there be placed. Fifty years 253 Financial Relations ago Davenport gave $1400 in order that Iowa College might there be founded, although after- ward it was moved nearer the center of the State. Albion, Michigan, gave a liberal subscription through its citizens for securing the college bear- ing that name for its village. Towns are known which have voted to give a site, building, and freedom from taxation for a term of years, in or- der to secure a shoe factory. Is a college better than a shoe factory ? The question of the taxation of college property is, in respect to the immediate financial gain to be secured from that taxation, primarily a question for the municipality in which the college is located. But the question in its other relations is a question which belongs to the people of the whole State. This question is a question which may be settled by the people of a State as represented in its legis- lature, and it may be at once and clearly settled. In case the people of a State do not wish to tax the property of their colleges, such as professors' houses and students' dormitories, they can at once make laws freeing this property from these im- posts. In case the people of Massachusetts do not wish to tax the house occupied by the President of Harvard College and similar property, it is very easy for the General Court to free such property from taxation. The burden of the freedom of collegiate property from taxation is felt, if felt at all, by the town in which the college is located. In a recent interview, an officer of the city of Cambridge is reported to 254 Financial Relations have said that when the college dormitories are assessed the high rate of taxation would be re- duced. One can sympathize with the people of the smaller towns more than with the people of Cambridge, who do feel the burden of taxation resting more heavily upon themselves by rea- son of the college exemptions. But there is a method of relief from this burden which is per- fectly consistent with the continuance of the col- lege exemption. This method consists in allowing the people of the whole State to share the burden. In a word, let the college pay taxes on its property, such as professors' houses or students' dormitories, as well as upon business blocks. If one wish, let it pay a tax upon its entire property, including halls of recitation, laboratories, libraries, and mu- seums. Let the treasury of the township or munici- pality receive its proper share of the increased revenue, which represents the larger share of the amount thus collected. Then let the treasurer of the State reimburse the college to the amount of the tax which the college has paid. This simply is spreading the burden resulting from freedom over the shoulders of the taxpayers of all Massa- chusetts rather than of Cambridge only; of all Connecticut rather than of New Haven only. For the last ten years this is the method which has been followed in the State of Maine. The law of that commonwealth is worth quoting : Any college in this State authorized under its charter to confer the degree of bachelor of arts or of bachelor of science, and having real estate liable to taxation, shall, 255 Financial Relations on tlie payment of such tax and proof of tlie same to the satisfaction of the Grovernor and Council, be reimbursed from the State treasury to the amount of the tax so paid ; provided, however, the aggregate amount so reimbursed to any college in any one year shall not exceed fifteen hundred dollars; and provided, further, that this claim for such reimbursement shall not apply to real estate hereafter bought by any such college. This method, however, has certain disadvantages. If this method were applied to Massachusetts, out of the three hundred and fifty- two towns in that State three hundred and forty-three would be taxed for the benefit of the nine which contain colleges and academies that are free from taxation. It may be doubted whether the representatives of the three hundred and forty- three towns would vote to increase their taxes for the sake of benefit- ing the nine towns. But, on the whole, the advantages of such a course outweigh the disad- vantages. The method tends to increase the pop- ularity of the college in its own city and town. Such a popularity is of the greatest benefit, and, as a whole, it must be acknowledged that the col- leges are not as well loved in the towns of their location as they are in many other towns. Such a method also might give to each college a certain freedom in asking for a share in the common municipal privileges which it does not now feel free to ask for. But the adoption of this method, or of any other of a constitutional or legal nature, rests with the people of each State as represented in its legislature. 256 Financial Relations This discussion may be summed up in six remarks : Pi. The close interpretation of the statute of taxa- tion as applied to literary and scientific institutions has not been the sentiment or practice of the vari- ous American courts. 2. The American people as a body has sustained such a sentiment and has approved of such a prac- tice. For the American people, as a whole, love their colleges, and desire that these colleges shall be freed from many burdens which they them- selves, as individuals, are willing to bear. 3. The ordinary American citizen cannot give much money to the direct support of the American college, but he can give somewhat to the support of the American college by the adoption of a gen- erous policy respecting the freedom of these col- leges from taxation. 4. The American college exists for the benefit of the American people. Therefore the American people should not feel that any advantages offered to these colleges are to be used for selfish purposes or for narrow and limited aggrandizement. 5. The American college professor, who repre- sents, after all, the best part of the American col- lege, is paid a small income from a small treasury, and he is himself giving back to the community what is manifoldly more precious than the money he receives. 6. The desire of certain older communities to tax their colleges is not for them a pleasant con- trast to the willingness of new communities to tax 17 257 Financial Relations themselves for the support of their State universi- ties. Is it possible that Massachusetts desires to exact a few thousand dollars each year from its colleges when Michigan willingly gives hundreds of thousands to its university I \ 258 VII ADMINISTRATIVE AND SCHOLASTIC PROBLEMS OF THE TWEN- TIETH CENTURY VII ADMINISTRATIVE AND SCHOLASTIC PROBLEMS OF THE TWEN- TIETH CENTURY THE century now closing has made rich contri- butions to the science and the art of the higher and the lower education, as it has to the art and the science of every form of human endeavor. It has enlarged the property of the colleges of America from a very small sum to more than quarter a billion of dollars. It has increased the annual budget for public education until it amounts to two hundred millions. It has extended and enriched the course of study, and has also diversi- fied it to fit the needs of the individual student from the age of six to the age of twenty-six. It has uplifted, dignified, and humanized the whole system of education, primary, secondary, collegiate, graduate, and professional. These results are fixed, and for them gratitude is common and hearty. The century now closing is turning over to the century that is beginning questions which are as significant and as essential as the questions which already have been settled. The new questions 261 Administrative and Scholastic Problems grow out of the past, and they relate to the future. They are questions at once administrative and scholastic, new and old. Such, be it said, is the progress of humanity. Every problem solved is the origin of other problems to be solved. In this method lies the hope of the race. When men have no questions to ask, not only has the lip become paralyzed, but the brain has become atrophied. Of the many questions which the nineteenth century transmits to the twentieth, several seem to me of significant value. The first of these questions relates to uniting in the studies and the methods of the higher edu- cation the principle of unity and the principle of individuality. The college has developed in the last third of the nineteenth century the principle of individuality. It has developed this principle largely through the elective system of studies. It has allowed, if not commanded, the individual stu- dent to select those studies which he thinks are best fitted for his own peculiar needs. It has recog- nized that no two men are alike any more than two leaves of the same tree are alike, as Leibnitz pointed out long ago. It is affirmed that this unlikeness is best and most adequately ministered unto through different subjects of thought and of learning. It has seen that what is one student's meat may be another student's poison, or if not poison, it may be to the other student sawdust ; and what is to one student poison or sawdust may be to another student meat and drink. The college has not failed to recognize that what is food to a 262 of the Twentieth Century student in one period of his career may not be food to him at all in the other periods of his career. All this and much more has been worked out and put on the shelves of our intellectual storehouse. But the colleges have made but small use of the opposite principle, which is also one of the great results of the century, — namely, the principle of unity, — a principle which is not more true in the realm of nature than in the realm of mind. Man is ever the same man. The soul is ever the same soul. The mind that asks manifold questions in youth is the same mind that asks its less manifold, but hardly less important, questions of nature and humanity in its maturity. If every man is unlike every other man, it is also true that he is always unlike every other man; he maintains his personal identity. As matter is the same matter under many forms, so man is the same man under all the changes through which he passes and which work their works in and on him. Both the principle of unity and the principle of individuality have their special advantages and limitations. The principle of unity tends to become sameness, monotonousness. It lacks pic- turesqueness, as applied to human character. It exemplifies the prairie in human life. It stands for one wide and far-reaching level of uniformity. Man is the same man, noble, noble; mean, mean; great, always great ; and small, always small. One knows where to find him who embodies this prin- ciple ; one forecasts what answer he will give to every question; one anticipates what opinions he 26} Administrative and Scholastic Problems will hold under certain conditions; and one can measure his convictions of the next week by his convictions of the last. But this principle of unity also possesses for one's self and for humanity at large many and fine advantages. Man is like the mountains, not like the weathercock which shows which way the wind blows. He is like the eternal hills, which determine which way the wind shall blow. He is firm and fixed. He represents the conservative element of human society. There is nothing un- certain or wavering about him. He knows what he knows; he believes what he believes; and he needs no one to convince him of his convictions. He is typed in the force of gravitation — an element at once fixed and not fixed, which moves through all things and guides them by unalterable laws. The principle of individuality, also, is beset by corre- sponding advantages and disadvantages. It gives variety to life. It is the mother of interest. It is both the cause and the result of development. It stands for life ; and life is never in general, but life is always in particular, and life is always full of fascination. It represents the progress of being, which is always in and through individuals. But individuality, be it said, tends to become eccen- tricity. If it grow into the graciousness of right- eousness and goodness and into the superlative excellence of beauty, it also grows into wickedness and into the pessimistic degradation of sin and of ugliness. In education, as in all life and nature, these two 264 of the Twentieth Century principles of unity and individuality are to be joined. The ocean is the same ocean, although the same tides never sweep over its beaches. The sun is the same sun, although not two risings or settings are identical. The world is the same world, although no two springtimes are alike in their sweet fragrance or in their mighty and silent growths. In the higher education the two prin- ciples are to be joined. The nineteenth century has given us the principle of individuality; the twentieth century is to associate this principle with the principle of unity as the nineteenth has not associated it. We are to learn that the boy is father to the man, and that the man is the son of the boy. We are to draw a straight line from the primary school to the professional. We are to strive to make character more consistent without making it less interesting, more solid without making it less picturesque, more conservative without causing it to become less progressive, more fixed without causing it to lose adaptive- ness. The man we take off the commencement platform we desire to be the same man whom, as a boy four years before, we sent to college ; only we wish him to be finer, nobler, greater. The union of unity and individuality as applied to the curriculum and to the students' use of the curriculum will tend to do away with that bane of our educational system, a Jiaphazardness in the choice of studies. This union will give directness in aim; and directness in aim will contribute to force in execution and administration; and force 26^ Administratwe and Scholastic Problems thus used will add to cousistency and general worthiness. The studies of the freshman year will be chosen in the light of the needs of the senior year ; and both years will derive their pur- pose from what the man desires to know, to do, and to -be after his college career. This union will not simply give us studies which a man may make into a backbone, as it is usually called, — for a back- bone implies also other bones running at right angles to the chief one, — but this union will give us a whole system of studies, articulated each to all and all to each, and all going to make up a consistent and vigorous personality, filled with one spirit, guided by one purpose, moved with one will, and living one life. The twentieth century will also give us aid in determining the law of diminishing and increasing returns in studies. What this law is we have begun to learn from experimentation. We have learned that a language, be it ancient or modern, dead or alive, may continue to grow in its power over the student until he is possessed of the spirit of its literature, and of the people out of whom it grew and whom it in turn helped to create. The first three or four years in the study of Latin or Grreek are the least profitable. The fifth and sixth years are, and should be, the most valuable. In the first period the study of a language is good; and it is good chiefly as a training in the impor- tant element of discrimination; and it is worthy of studying even if one pursues it no longer or further. But when one has become in a degree 266 of the Twentieth Century the master of a language, as, for instance, of the Latin, he is prepared to become a sympathetic stu- dent of these peoples themselves, to know what they were, to understand the institutions in which their life was embodied, to think as they thought, to feel as they felt, to see out of their eyes, and to hear with their ears. He thus causes the life of this one nation — one of the four which have con- tributed most largely to our modern humanity — to become an integral part of his own life. But this study has its limitations. For the stu- dent may, after six years of reading and of re- flection upon the institutions of Rome, become conscious that he is not getting the benefit from these studies that once he received. The minute investigation may prove to be of comparative worthlessness. He has entered into the narrowing margin of profit. He gets less and less for a larger and larger expenditure. The same principle in its application of diminishing or increasing returns applies to mathematics or to the sciences or, in- deed, to any subject. The deductive reasoning of mathematics is less early reached in its fullness of view, in the case of most students, than is the in- ductive reasoning of chemistry and of the other physical sciences. In the case of all scientific subjects there comes a time when the power of observation as em- bodied in experiments, or the power of inference as trained by these experiments or as trained in mathematical reasoning, has reached its normal fullness. It is possible, of course, still to discipline 267 Administrative and Scholastic Problems the mental faculties chiefly concerned in mathe- matical or scientific reasoning, and the process might, apparently, go on forever; but the returns resulting from this expenditure greatly diminish. History is the one subject in which for most stu- dents the law of returns shows that the results are the richer the longer it is pursued. The primary studies in history are comparatively of small value. The later studies, touching the people or the race, become more valuable as the attention to its es- sential conditions and relations is the more minute. The question of the increasing and diminishing returns in studies becomes of special significance in the light of the results of a free elective system. The question goes out into the general and most serious problem of the educational value of differ- ent studies and of the relations of these studies to American character and life. Upon certain sides of the general problem we are possessed of some suggestive facts. Among the most significant of all the reports which -Harvard College makes is found in the few pages of apparently dull and useless tables which represent the various courses of study and the number of undergraduates who are pursuing them. Some of the most important of these facts are as follows. In the academic year of 1898-99 there were 1851 students in Harvard College. Each of these students was required to take from twelve to fifteen hours of recitations or lectures each week. The freedom of choice was practically ab- solute, with the exception of one or two courses 268 of the Twentieth Century for freshmen, and the field for its exercise was ex- ceedingly wide. Under these conditions, be it said, Harvard students chose courses as indicated in the following table : Subject. Seniors. Juniors. Bopho- Fresh- Specials. Total. mores, men. Semitic languages .. 39 19 25 4 7 85 Egyptology 11 5 12 2 4 34 Indo-Iranic languages .231 17 Classical Philology . . 107 83 170 265 28 653 English 498 604 726 601 209 2638 1 Germanic languages . 69 94 177 300 41 681 Eomance languages . . 108 130 271 358 71 944 Comparative literature 1 1 Slavic languages ... 2 2 History 304 288 540 541 159 1832 Economics 393 283 351 15 89 1131 Philosophy 237 230 144 18 49 678 Fine Arts 40 47 91 14 18 210 Architecture .... 6 5 3 4 18 Music ....... 17 18 9 8 2 54 Mathematics .... 38 28 55 154 22 297 Astronomy 50 32 17 3 6 108 Engineering .... 27 28 27 18 2 102 Military Science ... 32 40 44 10 1 127 Physics 20 20 66 59 22 189 Chemistry 75 118 124 107 16 440 Botany 17 31 31 32 9 120 Zoology 23 37 39 24 8 131 Mineralogy 6 4 3 13 Mining 11 2 Anatomy 8 10 27 7 4 56 Archaeology .... 20 6 8 2 36 The essence of this table is that the subjects, ar- ranged in the order of their popularity, would begin with English, which would be followed, though remotely, by history, and then, with still greater 1 Four hundred and twenty-one of this number were reqidred to take Freshmen English. Therefore 2217 represents the proper number for comparison under a free elective system. Certain stu- dents, too, though a smaller number than in the case of English, were required to take either elementary German or French. 269 Administrative and Scholastic ProUems gaps, would come economics, Romance languages, philosophy, Grermanic languages, classical phi- lology, chemistry, mathematics, fine arts, physics, and astronomy. Among the more significant elements are these : that out of 1851 men only 297 took mathematics, and out of a freshman class of 471 men, only 154 chose this subject. The small number of men, also, who took the sciences is to be noted. Chem- istry and especially geology make a pretty good showing, but physics and botany and zoology are badly off. The greatest surprise of all, possibly, is the small number of men who take zoology. When one thinks of the Agassiz Museum, and of the vast resources both in teaching force and in collections for the study of life, one looks at the figures with a sense of surprise and of sorrow. But it is to be said that in each college in the United States the sciences are the least popular studies. Latin and Greek hold their own in the American college and represent possibly a larger number of students than one would in advance ex- pect. The sciences have not made those inroads into the classics which twenty-five years ago it was held by both the classicists and the scientists was inevitable. The value of this table is reinforced and con- firmed by a statement respecting the studies of a class recently graduating at Harvard, the class of 1897. The following table represents both the number of men and the percentage of the whole class who pursued each subject, the subjects being 270 of the Twentieth Century arranged in the order of their preference. The table is taken from a full report of the studies of the class, published in the "Harvard Graduates' Magazine." Number. Per cent. Total number in class 244 100 History and Government 123 50 Philosophy 122 50 English 121 50 Economics 114 47 Fine Arts 72 30 French 52 21 Military Science 46 19 Chemistry 44 18 Semitic 43 18 German 32 13 Italian and Spanish 30 12 Engineering 21 9 Zoology 21 9 Mathematics 15 6 Classics 14 6 Geology 14 6 Botany 12 5 Physics 11 5 Mineralogy and Petrography .... 5 2 Music 3 1 Hygiene 2 1 Archasology and Ethnology 2 1 Slavic 2 1 Germanic and Eomance Philology . . 1 0.4 Indo-Iranic languages Arising out of these tables are two most impor- tant questions : First, "Why did the students elect studies as they did elect ? and second. Is it best for the men of all colleges to elect studies as the Har- vard men did elect % The first question is a ques- tion of interpretation as applied to the students of Harvard College, and the second question is a ques- tion of general educational policy. In answer to the first question respecting the reasons for Harvard men so largely electing studies 271 Administrative and Scholastic Problems in English, economics, and history, several things are to be said. These studies represent a popular practical de- mand. The relation between life and history, the relation between good English and professional suc- cess, is apparently far more intimate than the re- lation between Plato's Republic and life, or the relation between the dynamics of a rigid body or Galois's theory of equations and an election to the national House of Representatives. The college has become peculiarly sensitive to popular demands and popular movements — on the whole too sensi- tive. No sooner do we adopt, or think of adopting, certain colonial possessions, than the colleges offer courses in the government of their colonies by England, France, and Holland. The community demands that the college man shall know some- what of the problems which the community has to settle and of the life which the community has to live. To this demand the college student is inclined to yield. Therefore courses in eco- nomics, history, and English are the more pop- ular. These studies also represent a personal practical demand. The college man thinks of his life's work, and no sooner does he begin to think than he begins to prepare for that life's work. Some men believe that the more remote their college course from the nature of their life's work the more ade- quate, on the whole, is their preparation. The foun- dations for heavy structures are to be laid broad and deep, and the heavier the stru.ctures the broader 272 of the Twentieth Century and the deeper ai'e to be laid the foundations. It is, therefore, said that the man who is to become a doctor should study philosophy, psychology, and history, and that the man who is to become a lawyer should study mathematics, chemistry, and biology. A lawyer of the highest distinction, and serving in a most exacting capacity, wrote to me lately say- ing that if he were to advise a college student who proposed to become a lawyerwithrespect to his stud- ies, his counsel would be for him not to take consti- tutional history or economics or philosophy, but to take biology and physics— studies that were the most remote in content from his future work as a lawyer. But it is at once to be confessed that most college students are not inclined to lay foun- dations for their professional service upon very broad bases. They are inclined to begin their pro- fessional specialization early. One need spend only a few days in Cornell University to see that the professional spirit is one of the leading influences of that great university. The fact is that in most universities those who propose to become doctors take chemistry and biology and physics in the lat- ter part of their course ; those who propose to be- come ministers take philosophy and history and so- ciology ; and those who propose to become lawyers take constitutional history, economics, and inter- national law. Two-thirds of the graduates of most colleges become lawyers and business men. These studies, therefore, in English, economics, and his- tory, more intimately and directly associated with the work of the lawyer and of the merchant and the 18 273 Administraiwe and Scholastic Problems manufacturer than are the studies in classical philology, physics, and astronomy, are chosen. These studies also do not necessitate so abstract and exact thinking as mathematical and scientific studies. These subjects do allow thinking of an abstract and exact nature. The mind sees what the mind brings for seeing. Therefore the large and exact mind will bring large and exact relation- ships into English and history and economics — of course it will. It is simply ridiculous to suggest that it will not or does not. But I am also sure that the ordinary college student in history does not think so accurately or so strongly as does the ordinary college student in mathematics or physics. The great majority of the college, as also the great majority of the community, does not give itself to exact and abstract and abstruse reflection. The college community, therefore, chooses those studies which fall in with general intellectual habits and tendencies. It is to be said, moreover, that these studies repre- sent what may be called the culture side of life and not the side of discipline. Men in college are in- clined to believe, and of course with some degree of reason, that the disciplinary element of training has been furnished for them in the preparatory school, and that for them the college represents the general relations of enrichment. It is also evi- dent that English, history, economics, and philoso- phy represent culture to a degree which physics and mathematics and zoology do not. The sciences stand, in general, for training in method, and this 274 of the Twentieth Century method is, in general, the method of simple think- ing. If this be true, such subjects as literature and history and economics represent not so much a method as they represent a content; this con- tent results in the enrichment of the mind and the character of the student. The second question is the general question whether it is best for college men to choose studies in the proportion in which they are chosen. Be- fore answering it I wish to make a few provi- sional remarks. (1) It is best for college men, like men in every condition, to make their own great choices in life. The law of liberty is a very good law, although it carries along with itself very seri- ous perils. God sees fit to give men freedom of will, although knowing they will abuse this free- dom. College men may, and should, get all the counsel possible for the determination of their courses, but it is best for them ever and every- where to bear the responsibility of their own choos- ing. (2) All studies are good. No man can take up a study in college, however dull he may be, how- ever dull the teacher may be, however dull the study may be, without receiving some advantage. (3) Studies have different values for different men. One student gets an insight into life through phi- losophy. Another student gets an insight, equally fresh and fine, through mathematics. To another student philosophy is nonsense, and mathematics inscrutable. (4) Teachers, too, have different powers over different students. The teacher having tre- mendous influence over Mr. A. may have no influ- 275 Administrative and Scholastic Problems ence at all over Mr. B. Seldom does a very strong teacher have the same influence over two students. (5) In the conduct of a cou.rse of study, the teacher is a more important element than the course itself. Personality is more than knowledge, and person- ality is the chief element in the promotion of cul- ture and of discipline. One may change the words of Emerson and say, " I don't care what you teach. What you are is so much more than what you teach that I don't know the subject which you teach." (6) The value of the teacher to the student dif- fers in different subjects. The worth of the teacher to the student is greater in elementary Sanskrit than in elementary mathematics, in English com- position than in English history. (7) In teaching, the individuality of the student is to be considered by the teacher. He is to be able to call each stu- dent by name. He is never to teach masses. He is to pick his fruit by hand. The chief aid of pedagogy is to aid the teacher in ministering to the needs of the individual student. (8) In this present discussion the most important element, that of moral character, is purposely omitted. Moral char- acter is the most important. Of course it is more important to have pure hearts than clear heads, to practise the virtues than to know the verities, to be just than to be able to explain the ground of the theory of moral obligation. Now, reverting to our question. Is it for the advantage of the students of Harvard College to choose their studies as they do? Is it best for them, is it best for the students of all colleges, to 276 of the Twentieth Century choose the same studies and in the same propor- tion, or, what is more important still, is it best for the improvement of the American community and for the enrichment of American life 1 What is the supreme need of American society? The answer leaps to the pen or to the lip. It is the need of men who can think. To think, to judge, to weigh evidence, to reason and to infer, represent a com- mon and great need of the American community. The American community is, on the whole, honest, and the American community is, on the whole, in- telligent, but the American community cannot think. The American community has other needs, it is true. One may say it lacks culture and appre- ciation. One may also affirm that its honesty is none too honest, and that its intelligence could fit- tingly be broadened. But every political campaign proves that the chief need is the power to know that two plus two equal four — the power to reason. Therefore, in general, the answer to our question lies in the answer to yet another question as to whether the American college is making the thinker. Matthew Arnold, in his "Higher Schools and Univer- sities in Germany " (p. 155), says that the prime and direct aim of instruction is to enable every man " to know himself and the world." If by this phrase Mr. Arnold mean that the supreme purpose of education is to enable a man to think, to reason, to judge, the phrase is wisely made ; but if the remark be a ref- erence to the value of knowledge as such, it is a remnant of barren educational discussion. The thinker represents what both Plato and Aristotle 277 Administrative and Scholastic Problems make the supreme result of education. Aris- totle would apply this result rather to the individ- ual and Plato to the state, but the power to think is held by both the idealist and the peripatetic as the chief power in training. It is easy enough to divide studies into classes which represent nature, humanity, and those which concern space and time. Do all or any one of these studies create the thinker? If they do not, what do they create in the mind of man? What is the unique or special advantage which studies that relate to nature, the natural and physi- cal sciences, possess? The answer to be at once given is that they possess relations which train the power of observation. The physicist, the chemist, the biologist, the geologist, is primarily an observer. He is to see what is set before him', he is to see all that is set before him, and he is to see nothing that is not set before him. The remark which the great Agassiz made to his student, " Look at your fish ! Look at your fish ! Look at your fish ! " is still and ever significant. The eye is the chief external organ of the scientist. It is not, however, the only organ, and observation is not the only resultant of scien- tific training. Having seen, the scientific student is to compare, to infer, to conclude. He is to put his two and two together and to make them into four. He reaches the abstract principle through collecting specific observations. Scientific studies, therefore, are a training in observation and in reasoning. They do train the power of thinking, and they are pre- eminently fitted this power to train. 278 of the Twentieth Century It is also to be said that linguistic study is essen- tially and practically a scientific study. In lin- guistic study observation is the primary element. The student is to see what is before him, to see all that is before him, and to see nothing else. But having seen, the next step of the linguistic student is not the inductive one, which is the second step in the study of the sciences ; but the next step is a deductive one, in which he relates the special case under observation to a general law. It is therefore to be af&rmed that in at least one important respect linguistic study has a value identical with scien- tific study in the training of the powers of observa- tion. This training in observation is in essence the same as the training in discrimination, which is the result usually suggested as the chief result of lin- guistic discipline. Mathematical study is akin to scientific, and yet in many respects it is unlike. Mathematical study is the study of absolute truth. It is thinking God's thoughts, as science is the study of God's works. Mathematics leads the mind to reason as no other study does lead it. Mathematics is nothing but reasoning. It represents the putting of two and two together and of making them into four. It does not ask what either two stands for, but it is eager to get the two and two into right relationship. Yet, be it said, mathematics is a bad study to make one think as he is obliged to think in life itself. For in mathematics every element is fixed and exact. Nothing is uncertain. Two plus two always and everywhere equal four. But 279 Administrative and Scholastic Problems in life no element is fixed, no condition is exact, no state is certain. At every point uncertainty prevails. The mathematician is not, therefore, a good man for reasoning about the practical concerns of a very practical age. One among the many advantages derived from the study of economics receives a contrasted illus- tration in what I have just said respecting mathe- matics; for if there be any department in which conditions are unsettled and unknown, it is in the department of economics and social phenomena. There is no subject in which so many elements enter, and so many elements, too, the exact content of which it is so hard to determine. The investi- gator cannot be sure of all his facts, and cannot be sure also that he is rightly interpreting all condi- tions. Only Omniscience can know man or man's relations completely. Therefore it is plain that the study of economic phenomena contains rare and rich possibilities for developing thinkers, and thinkers, too, who are in touch with life. The study of history is quite unlike the study of political econ- omy, although the two subjects are often associ- ated in the college curriculum. Its facts are less uncertain, although they are uncertain enough. Its conditions are sufficiently obscure. History has to do with man as he has been and under diverse con- ditions. Its study lies in tracing the great law of cause and effect. When studied as distinct phe- nomena, history trains the power of memory, and when studied as related phenomena, as always it ought to be studied, it trains, of course, the element 280 of the Twentieth Century of reasoning. Historians are as good reasoners as are scientists, but their reasoning has none of the absoluteness and exactness of that of the scientist. The scientist is concerned primarily with method, and secondarily with content. The historian is, however, concerned primarily with content and only secondarily with method. But both are con- cerned with bringing forth a correct interpretation. What is known as English in the college course has at least three distinct relations — the philologi- cal, the literary or historical, and the creative. As philology, the study of English has the same value as any other philological study, as Latin or Grreek, possesses. This value is essentially the scientific value of exact observation. As an his- torical product, and as a literary condition and result, English opens to the student the great law of cause and effect, as does the study of history itself. It is also to be said that it opens the trea- sure-house of the choicest achievement of the great creative minds. Yet enrichment itself, it is ever to be affirmed, is not a discipline. A mind can be rich without being well trained, as a mind can be well trained without being rich. By means of writing, too, the value of English becomes of the highest, but the writing is ever to be of a character to demand and to train the power of thinking. Al- together too much of the writing at most colleges is of a purely descriptive or expository sort. Writ- ing of this sort has, of course, value. Much writing, too, done not only in the literary courses, but in other courses as well, consists in what are known as 281 Administrative and Scholastic Problems "theses." A thesis is made primarily by reading whatever has been written respecting the subject of the thesis, and in pursuing investigations respect- ing the subject. Of course thought is required in this investigation and writing, but the demands made upon one's thinking power in preparing such theses is not usually so great as the demands made upon one's industry and patience. The colleges are defective in not requiring a sufficient amount of purely argumentative composition. The making of an argument by the student, and the criticism of the argument thus made by the teacher, represents one of the most effective forms of intellectual train- ing. President Woolsey gave noble service to the individual students of Yale College for twenty-five years, but no service is remembered with heartier gratitude than the conferences which he held with students over their writing on important themes. Now, one thing is to be said about these human studies of economics, history, and English, and that is that one can with ease and from a superficial understanding of these subjects receive advantages. One can taste of these subjects and get satisfaction. Such superficial understanding is superficial; it has all the merits and demerits of superficiality; but one cannot so easily be superficial in a study such as rnathematics or physics with any corre- sponding advantage as he can in the case of the studies of history and economics and English. In mathematical and physical studies progress is stopped at any point, unless one has taken practi- cally all the steps that lead up to that one point. 282 of the Twentieth Century One cannot master the fourth book of Euclid with- out having mastered the third, and he cannot under- stand the third without knowing both the first and the second. But one can receive advantage from trying to understand the constitutional struggle under George III without thoroughly understand- ing the struggle under James I, and one can get great good from studying the Cromwellian period without knowing the Elizabethan. It may there- fore be safely said that slight study and slight understanding of certain studies may bring a much richer result than a slight study and under- standing of other subjects. History, economics, and English rather tempt one to superficiality than do physics and the calculus. Here is, be it said, emphasized the need of good teaching in the pres- entation of these subjects which may be lightly treated. The teacher is commissioned to oblige the student to get many advantages from those studies from which he might be content with re- ceiving small advantages. Philosophy was formerly regarded as the crown of the educational curriculum. It is the study of man himself. It is the most regenerative of the mind of man. It is the most awakening of all studies. Many a student does not find himself until he reaches philosophy. It is, to use the Socratic phrase, the midwife of one's second or intellectual birth. It touches upon all elements of being which are present in all other studies. It demands think- ing as hard as mathematics demands. Its content, too, has an interest to many minds which mathe- 283 Administrative and Scholastic Problems matics does not, and cannot, arouse. It requires an interpretation of the phenomena of life, as large as that required in history. It also requires observa- tion, more exact and more difficult than is required in the physical sciences. It invites, too, argumen- tation of all sorts. The results of this somewhat wide survey of the special value of different courses of study are now evident. Harvard College, like every American college, is graduating men of richer attainments than the college of the earlier time. The graduate approaches nearer the type of the gentleman of culture. Knowledge is more affluent, appreciation of the best more adequate and more common. In- sight has gained in frequency and in power. The force for entering into executive conditions and of showing one's self a master in doing things has vastly increased. The American college is training men into gentlemen as does the English univer- sity. But it must be said that the studies which are the most popular at many colleges do not train men in the power of thinking, as they do train men in the power of knowing and of appreciating. The college is making scholars rather than thinkers. It is good to make a scholar ; it is better to make a thinker. American life needs scholars much; American life needs thinkers more. To discuss the methods for the promotion of the power of thinking in the American college would lead one too far afield. Two things at least may be said : first, far greater care should be exercised in the choice of teachers in order to secure those who 284 of the Twentieth Centurp are able to train thinkers; and secondly, proper urging should be given to men, on the part of ad- visers and counselors, to take severer and more thought-provoking courses. A third question which is transferred to the next age relates to the uniting of a wider inclu- siveness of students of ordinary abilities with the giving of special training to the ablest students. A college education should become yet more com- mon for common men ; and also a college education should become yet more precious for the best men. We are now educating more than one man to every one thousand of the population — a larger propor- tion than ever obtained in this country or than now obtains in any other country of the world. But this relative superiority should be still further en- hanced. Every man and every woman should re- ceive just as high and rich an education as possible. Education should become common, indeed ; but the peril is that in making education common we are neglecting the uncommon man. The need of the uncommon man is great, very great. The Ameri- can people is peculiarly volatile. Its emotions are easily excited. It can be stampeded with an ease which is at once a joy and a despair. The impor- tance, therefore, of leadership is of the utmost urgency in the conduct of American aifairs. Its importance cannot be overstated. The uncommon man who is poor in purse must, at all events, be educated; and the uncommon man who is rich should not be deterred by any cause from giving himself a superlative discipline and training for 285 Administrative and Scholastic Problems life's supreme service as well as for life's slightest duties. Let the college be great in numbers, so many are the common fellows who are flocking to it. Let the college also be great because the college is the creator and the nurse of great men for great affairs. These two conditions have a close relation to each other. Some men indicate their ability early in life, and we know as they pass into their teens that they are to become highly useful members of society. Gladstone, every one in his undergraduate days at Oxford knew, was to become a great man ; but whether he would show his greatness as a bishop or an archbishop or as a prime minister no one dared to prophesy. And Grladstone in his last years wrote an article on Arthur Hallam, indicating that Hallam was a man about whom prophecies of the highest eminence clustered. But other men do not show signs of promise early. They are, like Walter Scott and Francis Maitland Balfour, the biologist, backward boys. Their development is slow. From the multitude of ordinary men who come up to the college we shall get a few men of extraordinary power as manifested in life's career. It is, therefore, well to educate all men for the en- richment of American life and for the elevation of the type of American character. It is also worth while to educate all men for the sake of discovering the worthiest men in the general multitude. The education for leadership has a special rela- tion to one of the later developments of the higher education. The graduate school is the chief edu- 286 of the Twentieth Century cational development of an institutional form in the last twenty-live years. The larger part of its students have become teachers. Of the twenty-six men who took the degree of doctor of philosophy at Harvard College at the commencement of 1898, twenty-one at once entered the profession of teach- ing. This result is natural, and is also to be commended. In the new century, however, the graduate school should be a school not alone for teachers, but for men of all educational sorts and all professional conditions. To it should come, and I believe to it will come, men who propose to become doctors, lawyers, clergymen, not to secure professional training, but to secure a richer and finer training before entering upon their profes- sional disciplines. To it the ordinary student will not come ; but the men who have means and leisure and ability should come in increasing numbers. Because, therefore, of the length and breadth of the field of learning, and because of the high devel- opment which certain parts of this field are receiv- ing, the next century should be prepared, more than has been the present century, to adopt and to use the greatest variety of educational tools — the lin- guistic tool, the scientific tool, the historical tool, the philosophical tool, the sociological tool. Each has special and peculiar values. The linguistic and the mathematical tools are the oldest, and men have learned how to use them well. They carve and cut, they form and shape and smooth, the human mind more quickly and gracefully, be- cause of their centuries of use. The scientific tool 287 Administrative and Scholastic Problems the educator has not yet learned to use with any great efficiency. In the next age he will acquire the desired dexterity. To unite vitality in the teacher with expert knowledge is another problem which the age just closing carries over into the new. Vitality is the content of a full and vigorous personality. To overestimate its importance to the teacher, or to any one whose relations are with men, is impossible. Ifc is life — life fullest, largest, most living. It is health — health which is healthy and healthful. It is largeness of faculty and the proper action of function. It is the surplus of every sort. It is force. In its origin it is constitutional, belonging to the whole personality. In its sense of continu- ance and enlargement its nourishment is drawn from all that can minister to the individual welfare. In its results it is, of course, rich and splendid. Without it, no one dealing with men can hope for the noblest results. With it, whatever else a man may lack, he may be assured that he will secure not unworthy effects. It is that quality which, of all our earlier authors, was supremely possessed by the great Sir Walter; and among all living authors it is the quality which makes Kipling ad- mirable, and which constitutes no small share of his moving force. To his task the teacher must bear this great quality of life ; and from him his task must not take it away. For, be it said, the teacher is in peril lest his task do take away his life. That dull and tired eye is not an uncommon characteristic of the veteran teacher. It means 288 of the Twentieth Century that the peril of losing vitality has actually mate- rialized. That faithfulness which is as long as the school year and as constant as the recitations, the never-ceasing draft of question and answer, sending life from heart to head and from head to heart, the anxiety for the indifferent or for the evil — these, and all such conditions, draw from the teacher his best and his fullest power. The teacher must be vital. School boards and school trustees are wise in judgment and sound in administration when they demand a living teacher. But school boards and school trustees are too often not wise in judgment in allowing the life of the teacher to be sapped and sucked. But expert knowledge is also required; and ex- pert knowledge is narrower by far, of course, than the region that vitality covers. Expert knowledge belongs to the intellect. But we know too well that the student becoming a teacher may know his sub- ject largely, thoroughly, adequately. Has he not spent his four years in Glermany and taken his doctor's degree magna cum f Has he not surveyed the field and written his dissertation on one small corner of the wide domain? The man of know- ledge, large and exact, is constantly sought for. This equipment has been secured through years of general and special study. But the price so often paid for this fine and rich equipment has not found its chief element of expense in time or money, but in life. As the intellect of the stu- dent has become enlarged and enriched and trained, the vitality of the student has become drained, 19 289 Administrative and Scholastic Problems depleted, and impaired. How many instances there are of this sort is known to all who have followed American lads from the age of fifteen to the age of thirty. Of course there are many instances of the opposite class We know men whose intellects are trained and enlarged and enriched, and whose per- sonality is still strong and noble. The elder Agassiz is, of course, a trite example ; but also every college can furnish examples of such a worthy union. The problem of the new century will be to make the condition of vitality in the teacher not only consistent with but promotive of power of the in- tellect, and to make large intellectual resources the mighty minister to a vital personality. Akin to this question, and yet in certain re- spects distinct from it, is the question of uniting in the same personality culture and power. Cul- ture is primarily a function of the intellect. Power is primarily a function of the will. The man of cul- ture knows ; the man of power does. The man of culture appreciates; the man of power executes. The man of culture gathers up the treasures of many lives, ages, conditions ; the man of power uses every fact as a tool for securing results. The man of cul- ture is good ; the man of power is good for some- thing. The man of culture is in peril of selfishness ; the man of power is in peril of rashness. The man of culture is in peril of sitting by the side of the ocean of life, careless of or indifferent to the lives that are offering themselves to its dangers, but appreci- ative of its grandeur and sublimity; the man of power is in peril of rushing into the tumultuous 290 of the Twentieth Century waves to rescue something, whether it be a log or a wrecked sailor or a bottle — he hardly knows what. The old college did not make the man of culture, but it did make the man of power. The new col- lege is doing somewhat to make the man of culture. The new college is also doing somewhat to make the man of power. In the new century the college will exalt each purpose and will also unite them. The man of the finest culture will be also the man of the greatest power ; and the man of the greatest power will be the man of the finest culture. These two purposes of culture and power are somewhat embodied in the two special schools of the higher education. It is a notorious fact that the modern scientific school, called by various names, such as technical, polytechnic, technologi- cal, does not train gentlemen of culture. It makes good engineers, chemists, electricians. It does not make men of learning. The college does not make engineers or chemists or electricians, but it does endeavor to make men of liberal learn- ing. The union of these two sides of our educa- tional course would be exceedingly advantageous. Let the scientific school make the technical scholar ; and, in making him such, let it also make the gen- tleman of culture. Let the college, in making the man of culture, make also the engineer or the chemist or the electrician. In a word, let every scientific school be a part of a college ; and yet by no means should every college have in its asso- ciation a scientific school, any more than every college should be connected with a theological 291 Administrative and Scholastic Problems seminary. Let the scientific school be regarded as a professional school coordinated with the school of law or the school of medicine, and not as coordi- nate with the undergraduate college. There is still another, the sixth, question which the nineteenth century hands over to the twentieth. It is the central and fundamental question of the integrity of the college. The college is beset with foes on its rear and on its front. The college is between the millstones. The foe on the rear is the fitting-school. The foe on the front is the profes- sional school. The antagonist on the rear is an antagonist not because of its desire, but by reason of the conditions of the college. For the college has from time to time increased the requirements for admission to its freshman class from two to three years, and from three to four years, so that the student is tempted to jump over the college directly from the academy to the professional school. To-day, too, one sees the formation of a tendency for the academy to do the work of the freshman year. In a recent letter to me, Principal Amen of Phillips Exeter Academy says : I believe that a few fitting-schools will soon be able to do the work of the freshman year quite as well and safely as it can be done in the largest colleges. It seems to me it would be unfortunate to do away with the freshman year in the smaller colleges. Many Harvard and Yale freshmen would, in my judgment, be better off in some of the secondary schools than in college. We welcome the movement at Cambridge for a three years' course as a happy solution of our special problem. 292 of the Twentieth Century If the requirements there for a degree can in any way be lessened by one or two courses, we can save many students a year in their college education. Something should be done to enable students to reach the profes- sional schools earlier. On the other side, the professional school is un- wittingly tending to render the college impossible. The college has surrendered to the professional school in a degree through allowing courses in the professional school, in certain instances, to count also toward its own first degree. The college is thus in peril of losing its first year and also its last. The academy is willing, and eager, to do the first year's work. The professional school is willing to do the senior year's work. The college, on the whole, seems to be quite willing for the profes- sional school to do at least a part of the senior year's work, as it is also manifesting no special unwillingness for the academy to do the freshman year's work. We, therefore, are left with a college not of three years, but only of two ! Let it not be inferred that this condition is not a serious one; for signs of the movement do warrant the appli- cation of the word " serious" to its condition. And yet it is easy to suggest several considera- tions which favor the shortening of the college course to two years. Among them are : 1. The better differentiation of American educa- tion. Education may be said to cover three fields : first, the field of facts, in which observation is the chief intellectual faculty ; second, the field of rela- tions, in which reasoning is the chief intellectual fac- 293 Administrative and ScJjolastic Problems ulty ; and third, the field of professional knowledge, in which the education of the volitional faculty of application is the chief, though not the only, power. Through putting the freshman and sophomore years into the fitting-school that part of education which demands the faculty of observation becomes a unit. That portion is now dual, part being in the fitting-school and part in the college. Let the fitting-school stand for observation, and cover five or six years, as may be proper; let the college stand for the sense of relations, and cover two years or more ; and let the professional school stand for the direct preparation for professional service. 2. A second advantage lies in a large economy in money and in time. Education as given by the college is more costly than education as given by the academy. All the elements of expense are placed on a higher basis in the college. Labora- tories are more extensive. Books are more nu- merous. The larger relations of studies are more constant. The general scale of expenses among college men is higher than it is among prepara- tory-school men. I think, also, there would be some saving in time. Freshmen in college do not, on the whole, work so hard as seniors in the fitting- school. I think, also, that sophomores in the col- lege have not the reputation of being so laborious as are seniors in the fitting-school. A man, too, needs adjustment to his environment to get the best intellectual work out of himself. One, there- fore, who has been three or four years in a fitting- school can spend one or two years more with less 294 of the Twentieth Century expenditure of mental force and in the securing of larger results, than he would be obliged to make when transferred to the new environment of col- lege life. College life is dissipating of time. Pre- paratory-school life promotes concentration of interest. 3. A third advantage of putting the first two years of the college course into the fitting-school is found in the fact that the ethical and intellec- tual demands for supervision in the first two years of the college course are better met by the fit- ting-school than by the college. Many freshmen and sophomores have not the ability to care for themselves. They do need a parent. The col- lege cannot stand in loco parentis. The college cannot know the freshman's down-sittings and up- risings, his goings out and his comings in. The college must leave him to himself. The best col- lege traditions and conditions demand that the freshman and the sophomore be left to himself. To leave him to himself is, of course, in a sense, the application of the divine method in leaving men to themselves; but the college method, like the divine, is pretty costly to character. Too many men in the earlier part of their college career go to the bad. In the last two years they usually re- cover themselves and go to the good, and the better, and the best. Seldom does one find a college man a permanent moral bankrupt. Of course, under any method, some men will go into moral insol- vency, but this transfer of the first two years of the college course, which are the most perilous 295 Administrative and Scholastic Problems years, to the academy, allows and demands that supervision be given to the man. For this super- vision the academy stands. The man is saved. 4. It should also be said that these two years would be sufficient for the college to give to each student what may be called "touch," the college influence, which should rest, and should rest per- manently, upon every man who has been to col- lege. Some men do not get this touch even in four years ; others get it even in one year. This touch it is difficult to describe, although it is easy to per- ceive. It means that a new and powerful influence has come into the man's life. His ideals have been elevated, his manners refined, his bearing made more gentlemanly, his natural relationships have become richer; not only is his power to think increased, but his power to feel is augmented. It is this result which is secured by most colleges over most students in the last two years of the course. For securing this result the first two years of the college may be necessary in at least some form, but it is in the last two years that the results themselves are secured and made apparent. Two years is a sufficient time for the promotion of those friendships among students which repre- sent one of the most important elements of a col- lege, and it is also a sufficient time for a teacher of power to do a great work for those students who gather in his class-room. These reasons do have value in favor of a re- casting of our whole educational course ; for it is no less true now than ever that the wise man is 296 of the Twentieth Century not so wedded or welded to the old methods which have proven beneficial as to be unwilling to sub- stitute for them new methods which may be su- perior. But I do venture to say that the American people are not willing to forego the annual con- tribution to its best forces of thousands of men and women who have simply and nobly been trained in the colleges to see straight, to think clearly, to love the good, to choose the right, and to delight in the beautiful. The American people are not prepared to give up one iota of this general worth for the sake of a professional training a bit more efficient or for a professional knowledge a bit wider or more exact. To make this adjustment the new century is called into service. The new century will dis- cover that this adjustment is to be made, not so much in the professional school or in the academy or in the college, but in the grammar and the pri- mary schools. In the grammar and the primary schools time is to be saved, better methods are to be adopted, and better teachers are to be secured. A seventh question which the nineteenth trans- mits to the twentieth century relates to the better training of candidates for the law and for medicine. In the United States are 67 law schools, having 8000 students ; 143 medical schools, having also 8000 stu- dents ; and 159 theological schools, having 22,000 students. The conditions for admission to these schools vary from that order of attainment repre- sented in high-school education to that represented in a college degree. About one-half of the students admitted to schools of theology have had a college 297 Administrative and Scholastic Problems training. About one-fifth of those admitted to schools of law have had a college training. But the percentage of those admitted to schools of medicine who have had a college training is much smaller — so small that it is difficult to make an exact estimate. It probably does not exceed seven per cent. These facts are of value in themselves, but they are of greater value in indicating the kind of law- yers, doctors, and ministers the American profes- sional schools are turning out into American life. For that degree of preparation that one has on entering a professional school represents the charac- ter of the work he will do in that school ; and both the preparation for professional studies and the professional studies themselves are a prophecy of the kind of men who are entering into the ser- vice of the community. For one cannot expect to secure lawyers clear in vision, profound in re- search, having a comprehensive grasp of principles, and a power to apply these principles wisely, unless those who enter the law schools are themselves already well trained. One cannot, too, expect to secure physicians wise and comprehensive in diag- nosis, keen to discriminate, able to weigh evidence and to relate every fact to every other fact, unless the students who enter the medical college are them- selves well trained. It is also just as unreason- able to expect to secure clergymen broad-minded, possessed of intellectual sympathy with all classes and conditions of men, acquainted with the noblest results of humanity's work as embodied in litera- 298 of the Twentieth Centurp ture, able to interpret and to apply truth, able also to make the best use of the great art of persuasive speech and writing, unless the same men, when they enter the school of theology, are liberally educated. In professional studies the beginning determines the end, and the end also determines the means and the method. The maxim is true — maintained by broad experience — that " he who is not a good law- yer when he comes to the bar will seldom be a good one afterward." The maxim, indeed, may be made broader : that he who is not a good student when he enters the professional school will not be a good one when he leaves it, and if he be not a good stu- dent when he leaves the professional school, he will not be a good doctor or lawyer or minister when he begins his professional career. The movement, therefore, toward the improve- ment of the professional education in the United States is one of very great significance. It is of the gravest and happiest importance to American society. I may say now as well as at any time that this movement is at the present moment rather confined to legal and medical education than to the clerical. For the simple truth is, and be it said with regret, that clerical education has not in the last decade been manifesting any degree of im- provement in certain important relations. On the whole, when one estimates the value of the clerical training received by the graduates of the schools of theology, one finds himself obliged to confess that deterioration has been the result. Into our better schools of theology of certain churches fewer 299 Administrative and Scholastic Problems men possessed of a liberal education are now en- tering than did enter a few years ago. The reason of this fact is that the opening of the new territory west of the Mississippi had made so great demand for ministers that theological seminaries were in- clined to receive into their membership students who were not willing to spend the time sufficient to give themselves a college education. This demand is now far less urgent than it has been, and we can reasonably anticipate that the improvement which has already taken place, and which even now is becoming forceful in the preparation for other professions, will soon affect the schools of theology. Already signs appear that these schools are becom- ing impressed by the call for the improvement of the training which they give. In this improvement the profession of the law still lags behind the profession of medicine. In a sense, the preparation for making lawyers is now in the same state in which the training of physicians was two score of years ago. In 1854 the American Medi- cal Association adopted resolutions " cordially ap- proving of the establishment of private schools to meet the increased desire on the part of a respec- table number of medical students for a higher grade of professional education than can usually be ac- quired by reading medicine under the direction of a single instructor."^ For in the preparation of stu- dents for the practice of law private reading is still continued, and is, on the whole, the more popular 1 Report of the Commissioner of Education, 1889-90, Vol. II, p. 895. 300 of the Twentieth Century method, although its popularity is rapidly declining. It is seldom, however, that a man now enters the medical profession who has not been trained in a medical school. Most States also have examining or licensing boards, to whom any one who wishes to practise the healing art must submit evidence of his fitness and receive permission from that board in order to practice. Although certain States are quite as strict in respect to the granting of licen- sures to lawyers as to physicians, yet other States are notoriously lax. The following incident is illustrative. It is told by a professor in the Uni- versity of Missouri. " There was an old negro preacher in St. Louis who conceived the idea that if he were only able to hold himself out as a lawyer as well as a preacher he would do a flourishing trade among his flock. He applied for admission in St. Louis and was examined in open court. He had spelled his way through a few hundred pages of Blackstone, of some obsolete law dictionary, and the statutes of the State. Without an idea of any single sentence he had read, his examination was, of course, a comedy of errors, but though rejected, he was not dismayed. In a few weeks he turned up again, the happy possessor of a certificate of admission to the circuit court in one of the interior counties, and thus entitled to be enrolled in any and every other court in the State. The first client he obtained was a poor negro charged with murder. Though the prisoner was afterward found to have acted under circumstances of justifiable self-defense, the management of the case resulted in a verdict 301 Administrative and Scholastic Problems of murder in the first degree and sentence of death. Then the poor prisoner became frightened and re- tained a lawyer. It was a rather difficult case to appeal ; there were no points reserved, there were no errors which could be taken advantage of, and the only possible chance was to ask for a new trial on the ground of the ignorance, imbecility, and in- competency of the attorney." ^ But there are certain practical reasons which may be urged to prove that those who enter schools for the training of lawyers and of doctors should have received a liberal education. The first reason which I suggest relates to the importance of the profession of the law to Ameri- can life. The legal profession is a conservative element in a society essentially progressive and radical. The law, common and statute, represents more adequately than any other condition the struggles of humanity in its endeavors to lift itself up from an animal to an intellectual level. The law embodies the methods which man has found to be of value in securing and holding the rights of society and of person. It represents, also, the results which have followed from the use of these methods. Trivial as many statutes are, temporary as certain laws must be, unworthy as much of our law-making is, yet the great body of the common law and the great body of the statute law are the deposit of the best living of humanity. It bears to humanity in its intellectual conditions a relation 1 Keport of the Commissioner of Public Education, 1893-94, Vol. I, p. 995. 302 of the Twentieth Century similar to that which, the cathedral bore to society in the ecclesiastical civilization of the middle ages. The law, more than any other resultant, represents the sum and substance of humanity's struggles and attainments. Therefore it is of extreme importance that the courts which interpret such a body of jurisprudence should be wise and learned as well as honest. Therefore it is also of extreme importance that those who apply these laws to present conditions should be able, wise, intelligent, and well trained, as well as faithful in all intellectual and human re- lations. The law without the lawyer is simply the skeleton without life, an outline of thought with- out content, a method of using force without the force itself. "Without the lawyer the law would have slight or no value to humanity. It is, there- fore, of the very first importance that the lawyer himself should be a man of large and liberal and noble training. Akin to this condition, as an element in the im- portance of the profession of the law to the Ameri- can people, is another element : it is the importance of justice to the American nation. It is expressing a very sad but at the same time a very patent fact to say that in many instances the law is not an in- strument for securing justice. This proposition is more evident to those who deal with the law than to those who are not immediately and constantly concerned with the administration of law. Those who desire to obtain or to maintain their rights often, and justly, hesitate to submit their claims to 303 Administrative and Scholastic Problems the expense and the doubts that belong to the methods and results of the courts. In an address made before the American Bar Association in 1894 Frank C. Smith of New York said: "Of the 29,942 cases decided, I ascertained that 14,447, or forty-eight per cent., were upon points of proce- dure or other matters not involving the merits of the controversy." Mr. Smith further says : "It is essential that the bar shall know how to employ the rules of legal procedure so as to most com- pletely and surely serve principle. But so far has the profession fallen from this ideal that, judged by the results of its service in actual litigation, it is to-day a monstrous charlatan. What would be said of a trade or craft against which it could be proven that in an average of nearly fifty per cent, of the attempts it made to serve its patrons it failed to secure just results because its craftsmen did not understand how to use its machinery, or, understanding this, failed to employ it so as to attain the end promised when it was trusted to do the service I Such a trade could not retain public respect and confidence an hour after its inefficiency was known. No more can one of the learned pro- fessions. Yet this is the exact condition of the practice of law in this country to-day." ^ The simple truth is that the profession of the law is not an instrument of justice in any such degree as the American people have a right to demand of it. 1 Report of the Commissioner of Education, 1893-94, Vol. I, pp. 996, 997. 304 of the Twentieth Centtiry The importance of the medical profession to the life of the American people may likewise be made the basis of a statement to prove that doctors should also have a liberal education before they enter into the pursuit of their professional educa- tion. It goes without saying that the medical pro- fession is important not only to the individual life but also to the life of the whole community. The place occupied by the doctor has greatly changed and enlarged in the course of the last generation. The doctor has become a public servant, as he was before a servant of the individual. The doctor is now set not simply to cure the ills of one member of the human family, but he is also set to keep all men from being sick. He is a trustee for the health of the community. He has become the apostle of health and healthfulness. He is an unofficial member of an unofficial board of health in every community, and in not a few communities he is a member of a properly constituted board of health. The importance of his profession to the community is made still more evident by the increasing intri- cacy and complexity of modern life. A complex civilization creates diseases from which a simple community is free. The crowding of great popu- lations promotes unhealthful conditions. The pres- ence of disease becomes more perilous as the people become more compact. The discoveries made in materia medica in the last decade have increased the duties which the doctor owes to himself and to the community. The discoveries in the art of surgery render operations now common and 20 305 Administrative and Scholastic Problems commonplace whicli a short time ago were regarded as either unique or as absolutely impossible. These changes have put upon every physician the obli- gation of being broad-minded and exact in obser- vation and inference. The age of the specialist has come. Every doctor in ordinary practice must, in a sense, be a union of all the specialists. So wide a range of functions, each of which is of pecu- liar importance, — as important at times as is human life itself, — makes evident the proposition that the physician should have the most liberal, the most profound, and the most disciplinary of trainings before he enters into his professional studies. A further reason for giving our students a thorough training before entering into the profes- sional studies of the law or medicine lies in the scholastic training which similar students in France and Germany are obliged to obtain. In France the candidate for admission to the medical schools must have secured the degree of bachelor of arts or of bachelor of science. In Germany he must have completed the course in the gymnasium, which represents a training certainly equivalent to that obtained in the first half of the course in the better A.merican colleges. In order to enter into the prac- tice of law, in most Continental countries, a man must be a graduate of the department of law in the university. In order to enter into the department of law in the university he must be a graduate of the gymnasium, that itself prepares for the university. These conditions apply in particular to Germany, Austria, and Switzerland. In France, Italy, Spain, 306 of the Twentieth Centti^ry Belgium, Holland, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, and Russia, the course preparatory to the study of law embraces the ancient languages, the higher mathe- matics, and natural sciences, in addition to history — a course that is probably not of an educational value equal to that given in the best American colleges, but that is probably equivalent to that embraced in the first two years of the college. In England the course of study is not so ex- tended. The English language, the Latin language, a knowledge of some other language, — either Grreek, French, G-erman, or Italian, — and English history represent the subjects in which the student is obliged to pass examinations before he can enter upon the study of the law. It is therefore evident that the preparation which we are demanding of those who are to become stu- dents of law or of medicine is very much inferior to the preparation which most nations require. The movement, therefore, in American life looking to the requiring of a more adequate training of those who purpose to enter the study of law or medicine represents ia movement on the part of the American people for putting itself into relationship with the best movements of the best nations. The question of the time necessary for securing an adequate preparation for professional studies is, as I have already intimated, of grave impor- tance both to those who propose to become law- yers and to those who propose to become doctors. But the question of time has larger significance for the doctor than for the lawyer. The aver- 307 Administrative and Scholastic Problems age age of the graduates of most colleges is be- tween twenty-two and twenty -three years. In the better law schools the course of study occupies three years. In the larger part of the schools it is still only two years, and in a very few— and the worst — it is only one year. In certain States — as Ohio, for instance — three years of the study of law are required by statute before the candidate is allowed to present himself for admission to the bar. The student of law is therefore twenty-six years old before he can enter into his professional career. But the student who proposes to become a physi- cian finds himself at once obliged to spend at least one year, and, if he be worthy and of high purpose, two or three years more than his legal brother has spent. For the course of medical education, in all schools of any degree of worthiness, occupies four years. If the candidate wish to give to him- self the best preparation, on receiving his medical degree he spends a year or a year and a half in a hospital. If he be still further determined to pos- sess himself of the best training, he will spend another year or year and a half in European schools and hospitals. The best-trained medical student has, therefore, usually reached the age of twenty-eight or thirty before he begins his profes- sional career. The question at once emerges : Is the age of twenty-eight too old for the doctor, or the age of twenty-six too old for the lawyer, to enter into life's work? This question suggests a second: Too old for what! Is the age too great for the 308 of the Twentieth Century candidate, or is it too great for the interests of American life? The important question is, of course, whether the candidate is too old for the in- terests of American life. I cannot believe that he is. For American life has need of wise counsel- ors and directors both in respect to person and property. The need of American life is not of more lawyers, but of better ones. In the United Kingdom there is 1 medical student to 5286 of the population ; in France, 1 to 7776 of the population ; in Germany, 1 to 5757 of the population ; in the United States and Canada there is 1 medical stu- dent to 3365 of the population.^ America has, speaking in round numbers, twice as many doctors as have the older nations of Europe. There is hardly a town or city in the United States in which, if the number of doctors and lawyers were cut down one-half, the one-half could not well and without difficulty meet all the requirements of pro- fessional service. It would be a distinct advantage to American life if the doctors who have graduated from the farm or from the grocery store into the medical school or if the lawyers who have come up — or down — from clerkships in drug stores would return to their farms or their counters. Discipline as well as culture, training as well as intellect, rep- resent elements which every man should possess who dares to offer himself as the savior of people's property and lives. In all cases of litigation and disease no service is too good, no training too fine, 1 Eeport of the Commissioner of Public Education, 1893-94, Vol. I, p. 982. 309 Administrative and Scholastic Problems no discrimination too exact. But in unique cases the demand for training and wisdom and discrim- ination is absolutely imperative. In human life, and in what goes along with human life, are the most precious material treasures in the natural world. Let us, therefore, give to human life the wisest skill unto its preservation and enrichment. Therefore, for the advantage of American life, the age of twenty-eight or thirty is not one whit too advanced for the doctor, or the age of twenty- six for the lawyer, to begin his professional career. But is this age, be it asked, too old for the advan- tage of the student himself? The man of thirty has, according to the life-insurance tables, 34.43 years to live. He may, therefore, look forward with reason to thirty years of service. Should he begin his service four years sooner he would simply have four years more for service. Now four years are of value. They represent a certain quantity of a whole career. But it is to be at once and strongly said that to put these four years into en- riching the quality of the service which the doctor or the lawyer is to render is far better than to de- vote them to the extension of the time of that ser- vice. It is far better for the practitioner, and also for the community, to make the service abler and wiser than to make it longer. But, of course, it is to be desired that law- yers and doctors and clergymen and all men should enter their callings at as early an age as is right. Let us make the term of service which all good men render to humanity as long as it can 310 of the Twentieth Centtiry be made. For securing this result, however, it is more im.portant to improve the education of the primary school and the grammar than to abbrevi- ate the undergraduate course, strong as may be the reasons for this shortening. The question, therefore, of the medical school and the law school receiving only those who have given themselves the advantage of a liberal education is a question of profound significance to American life. It is also, in particular, a question of gravity for every member of the professional Faculty and for every member of the Board of Trust which manages a school of law or a school of medicine. For if the student is to give so large a share of his life's time to the preparation for his life's service, if he come up to the law school or to the school of medicine with powers well trained, with the capacity of appreciation large, with his character matured, he has a right to demand of the professional school that it shall give to him advanta.ges adequate to the ripeness, richness, and maturity of his char- acter. It is simply absurd for a medical school or a law school, such as can be found in many of our States, to demand that candidates for admission shall have a college training ; for the schools cannot offer adequate opportunities to men of these ad- vanced attainments. For medical schools, such as can be found in many of the great cities of this country, to ask that students who are admitted shall be liberally educated is quite as absurd as for a high school in New York or Boston to re- quire that candidates for its junior class shall Administrative and Scholastic Problems have already taken a college course. The medical college which demands a liberal education from candidates for admission should offer as good teach- ing in the fundamental branches of anatomy, physi- ology, bacteriology, chemistry, histology, materia medica, therapeutics, and in special branches, as these candidates themselves have received in Latin, mathematics, philosophy, German, and history in the undergraduate colleges. These schools, fur- thermore, should offer the student a fitting scho- lastic environment. The medical college should offer to him hospitals and clinics having many cases and unique, and the law school should put into his hands a properly equipped library. For schools of medicine and of law to offer the stu- dent such opportunities requires, primarily, money —and money, too, in large amounts. Professional education in this country has not yet received, with the exception of theological education, a fitting en- dowment. The theological schools of this country are now possessed of about $20,000,000 of endow- ment, and the value of their buildings and grounds is about $12,000,000. Be it said, also, that one- half of this amount is found vested in the theolog- ical seminaries of the North Atlantic States. Of the seminaries of the various churches the Presby- terian are the best endowed. About one-fifth of the entire amount of endowment funds of churches in America are found belonging to the Presbyte- rian Church. This endowment allows each profes- sorship in these seminaries to have about $40,000 in case there were an equal division of these funds. 312 of the Twentieth Century In the Congregational and Episcopal dinrches the endowment would be about $35,000 for each chair. But the endowment of the medical and law schools is so slight that one hesitates to give any figures at all. In fact, the endowment is so slight that some schools of law and of medicine are unwilling to re- veal their poverty. The largest endowment in this country belongs to the medical school of Johns Hopkins University; the next largest is that of Harvard Medical School ; and the next largest, so far as reported, is that of Western Reserve University Medical College. In a recent year $1,500,000 was given to endow professional education in this coun- try, and of this sum sixty-three per cent, was given to schools of theology, seventeen per cent, to schools of medicine, fourteen per cent, to schools of tech- nology, and about one per cent, to schools of law. For the improvement of professional education in medicine and law the American people must give of their wealth with a generosity akin to that with which they have poured out their millions each year to the undergraduate colleges. The great need of American life at the present time is better- trained doctors and better-trained lawyers. This need can be met only by the rich endowment of schools for the training of doctors and lawyers ; for it is only such schools, well endowed and well equipped, that can worthily and fittingly ask men of a liberal education to become their students. The next movement in the endowment of American education should be directed toward the schools of law and the schools of medicine. 3U Administrative and Scholastic Problems For the solution of all tliese administrative and scholastic questions the nineteenth century will transmit to the new age one condition which will prove to be of value simply priceless. It is the public and special interest in education. Educa- tion has come to be recognized as one of the elemental and fundamental forces in life. It has always been an elemental and fundamental force, but it has not always been recognized as such. It now takes its deserved place with the greatest. It may now be said that it has become a stronger force than the church, of which it was formerly a function. The schoolmaster is indeed abroad. He was formerly abroad on foot ; he is now abroad in the saddle ; he is a commander and director and leader. In no department of life has there been a larger increase of enthusiasm or a nobler develop- ment of interest or an adoption of wiser methods. Such a condition represents the best force for the solution of the problems which the old century gives to the new. 514 INDEX INDEX Academic freedom, value of, 90 Academy during work of Freshman year, 292 Adelbert College of Western Reserve University, appointment of pro- fessors, 25, 26 Administration, college, special con- ditions and methods of, 85 Administrative problems of college in twentieth century, 261 Age of students, 8, 307 Alabama, University of, allusion to, 119 Alumni associations, 39 Alumni in relation to fraternities, 103, 104 Amen, Principal, quotation from, 292, 293 American life, need of, 277 Amherst College, system of fines in, 117 ; aid for students, 205 Andover Theological Seminary, 235 Andrews, President, resignation of, 94 Antioch College, Horace Mann at, 146 Arnold, Matthew, quotation from, 277 Austin, Edward, allusion to, 173, 214 Baird, William E., quotation from "American College Fraternities," 105 Baldwin, Simeon E., quotation from, 64 Balfour, F. M., allusion to, 286 Barnard, President, allusion to, 73 Beers, Professor H. A., quotation from, 99 Benefactions made by women, 170, 171 Benevolence, motives to, 178 ; con- ditional, 186 ; forms of, 213 Bowdoin College, aid for students, 205; location of, 253 Briggs, Dean, of Harvard, quotation from, 98, 99 Brown University, appointment of professors, 24 ; aid for students, 205 Bryn Mawr College, allusion to, 244 Buchtel College, location of, 253 Bureau of Education, allusion to, 1 ; extracts from Reports of, 300, 302, 304, 309 California, University of, appoint- ment of professors, 28; allusion to property of, 162; beneficences to, 178 ; Regents, 41 Cambridge, city of, seat of, 246, 248 Cambridge (England) University, gov- ernment of, 43 ; property of, 166, 167 Carnegie, Andrew, allusion to, 172, 174 Carter, President, reference to life of Mark Hopkins by, 127 Cattell, President, of Lafayette, allu- sion to, 66 Charity Commissioners, English, 233 Chicago, University of, appointment of professors, 26 ; foundation of, 176 Clap, President, allusion to, 236 Clergymen as college officers, 34 Colby College, allusion to, 70, 179 College, three types of, 15 ; constitu- tion of, 21 ; difference of, from a university, 96 ; integrity of, 292 College course, shortening of, 2 3 Colonial Government, studies in, 272 Columbia University, appointment of professors, 24, 25; aid for stu- dents, 205 Conditional benevolence, 186 Connecticut laws of freedom from taxation, 241, 242 Constitution, of different States on freedom from taxation, 240 Constitution of the college, 21 Cornell, Ezra, allusion to, 174 Cornell University, reserve fund of, 163, 164; aid for students, 205; pro- fessional spirit in, 273 3^1 Index Dartmouth College, appointment of professors, 24; of trustees, 40; aid for students, 205 Day, President, of Yale, characteriza- tion of, 78 Differentiation in education, 293, 294 Dormitories in relation to taxation, 244, 245 Drexel Institute, allusion to, 172 Dudley, Paul, will of, 235 Dunster, President, allusion to, 49 Dwight, President, judgment of, 29, 39 Dwight, President (elder), allusion to, 50 Economics, value of study of, 272, 280 Educated leadership, need of, 183 Education, Bureau of, 1 Education, liberal, value of, to pro- fessional students, 302 Education, organization of, 1; differ- entiation in, 293 ; public interest in, 314 Elective system of studies, 268 EUot, President, Report of 1874-75, 8 ; allusion to, 65; quotation from, 72, 194 ; opinion expressed by, 158 Endowment, amount of, 155 ; made by lotteries, 163 ; misuse of, 165 ; origin and conditions of, 169 ; made by those not graduates, 173 ; useless though well meant, 223 ; need of, in medical and law schools, 311 English benevolence, charitable and domestic, 234 English Charity Commissioners, 233 English education, 3, 4 English, value of study of, 272, 281, 282 Everett, Edward, allusion to, 38 Faculty, nature and work of, 22, 23, 29 Pawcett, Henry, allusion to, 71 Payerweather, D. B., allusion to, 172, 173, 177 Finch, Judge F. M., quotation from, 175, 176 Fines, pecimiary, 115 Fisher, Professor George P., quota- tion from, 76, 77 Foxwell, Professor, 8t. John's Col- lege, quotation from, 95, 96 France, professional training in, 306, 307 Fraternity, 99 Freedom from taxation, 240 Freedom in college, 90, 149 Friendship in college, 103 Georgia, University of, 196 Germany, education in, 4; profes- sional training in, 306, 307 GUman, President, quotation from, 2, 3,208 Gladstone, W. E., allusion to, 286 Good-fellowship, value of, in college, 101 Gordon, General, memorial to, 181 Government, Colonial, studies in, 272 Government of students, 113 Graduate School, position of, 98, 99, 286, 287 Hallam, Arthur, allusion to, 102, 286 Hamilton College, allusion to, 163 Happiness of college officers and stu- dents, value of, 88 Harper, President W. R., allusion to, 55 ; quotation from, 165 Harvard College, clubs in, 99 ; early government of students, 113 ; rebel- lion in, 120 ; proportion of students from different schools, 134; "Ad- visers " at, 138 ; property of, 158, 159 ; increase of property of, 166 ; aid for students, 205; Dudleyan foundation, 235, 236; exemption from taxation, 243, 248 ; elective system, 268 ; doc- tors of philosophy at, 287 Hinsdale, Professor B. A., compen- diums by, 167 History, value of study of, 272, 280, 281 Hitchcock, Professor K. D., allusion to, 177 Hopkins, President Mark, wisdom of, 127 niinois. University of, appointment of professors, 26, 27 ; of trustees, 40 Income spent in two forms, 164 Indigent students, aid to, 199; loans to, 215 ; principles about giving, 222, 223 Individuality, principle of, 262 Investments, forms of, 157; regular income from, 158 ; good character of, 161 ; for indigent students, 199 Johns Hopkins University, appoint- ment of professors, 25 Jordon, President D. 8., quotation from, 72, 73 Judgment, good, value of, 183 318 Index Justice, importance of, to American people, 303 Kansas, University of, appointment of professors, 27 Keane, Eight Eev. Bishop, 236 Kenny, C. 8., quotations from, 223, 228 Kings] ey, W. L., references to history of Yale College, 77, 78 Kipling, Eudyard, allusion to, 288 Kirbland, President, allusion to, 50 Ladd, Professor G. T., ctuotations from, 11 Lawrence, Abbott, letter to, 197, 198 Lawrence, Amos, letter from, 197, 198 Law schools, 297 Leadership, educated, need of, 183, 285 Library college, object of benevolence, 191 Loans to students, 215 ; rules about making, 220 Lotteries as a method ol endowing colleges, 163 Low, President Seth, allusion to, 74; quotation from, 192 Loyalty to college, value of, 87 Maine, laws of, on taxation of college property, 255, 256 Mann, Horace, work of, at Antioch CoUege, 146 Massachusetts General Hospital, suit of, 247 Massachusetts Institute of Technolo- gy, allusion to, 214 Massachusetts, laws of, on freedom from taxation, 241 Mathematics, value of, in training, 279 McCay, Charles P., Fund, 196, 197 McCosh, President, allusion to, 55, 73 Medical schools, 297 Memorial motive in benevolence, 179 Mill, John Stuart, quotation from, 238, 239 Minnesota, University of, appoint- ment of professors, 27, 28; of Ee- gents, 41 Money, good and evil of, 178, 179 Morley, Professor E. W., allusion to, 74 Motives to benevolence, 178 Nebraska, University of, appoint- ment of professors, 27 ; of Eegents, 41 Need, financial, relative term, 211 Newman, J. T., quotation from, 72, 73, 158, 159 New York laws on freedom from taxa- tion, 242 Normal schools, 14 Northwestern University, exemption of, from taxation, 243, 250 Norton, Andrews, allusion to, 38 Nott, President E., allusion to, 129 Ohio, laws of, on taxation of college property, 242, 250 Organization of education in United States, 1 " Oxford, Aspects of Modern," quota- tion from, 44 Oxford University, government of, 43 ; property of, 166, 167 Parsons College, location of, 253 Pattison, Mark, allusion to, 68, 69 Peabody, George, allusion to, 172 Pearsons, Dr. D. K,, allusion to, 174 Peirce, Benjamin, suit of, versus Cam- bridge, 246 Peirce, B. O., allusion to, 74 Pennsylvania, University of, appoint- ment of professors, 25; of trustees, 40 ; aid for students, 205 Pepper, Provost, allusion to, 66, 75, 76 Personality of teacher, 5 Personality, worth of, 66, 103 Phi Beta Kappa, 108 Phillips Academy, Andover, quota- tion from constitution of, 212 Phillips Exeter Academy, quotation from principal of, 292, 293 Philosophy, value of, in training, 283 Physician, public trustee, 305, 306 Porter, President, quotation from, 30, 31, 34-36 Pratt Institute, allusion to, 172 President, the college, types of, 49; as an administrator, 53 ; as a finan- cier, 53 ; holding relations with Fac- ulty, Trustees, students, alumni, people, 55 ; coijperation of, 62 ; as a leader, 64; personality of, 66 ; in re- lation to whole educational system, 67 ; independence of, 68 ; as a judge of men, 71 ; as a scholar, 73 ; com- manding public confidence, 74 ; as a trustee for the people, 75; wisdom of, 77, 78; satisfaction of being, 78 Price Greenleaf Aid Fund, 211, 214 Princeton University, source of Ses- 319 Index Quicentennial Fund of, 177 ; aid for students, 205 Professional sciiool in relation to col- lege, 292 Professional scliools, of law, medicine, tteology, 297 Professional students, 297 Professors, metliods of appointment, 23; as college governors, 38; liappi- ness of, 88, 89 Quincy, President Josiai, allusion to, 49 ; quotation from, 114 ; reference to "History of Harvard University," 236 Eebellions, college, 118 Eights, natural, of students, 118 Eolbinson, President, allusion to, 51 Eochester University, allusion to, 155, 159 Eockefeller, John D., aUusion to, 186 Eogers, President W. B., quotation from, 70 Sage, H. W., allusion to, 175, 176, 191 Salaries of college officers, 164, 165 Scholastic questions of twentieth cen- tury, 261 Science, value of, in training, 278, 279 Scientific schools, 291 Scott, Walter, allusion to, 286, 288 Seelye, President J. H., quotation from, 104 Sewall, Judge, quotation from his diary, 113 Sheffield Scientific School, allusion to gift to, 198 Slocuni, President, allusion to, 75 Smith, Adam, quotation from, 225 Smith College, allusion to, 244 Somerville, city of, suit of, 247 Stanford, Leland, University, endow- ment of, 177, 178 State, each an educational unit, 1 Stephen, Leslie, quotation from, 71 Students, indigent, aid to, 199 ; loans to, 215 ; principles ahout giving, 222, 223 Students, unit of education, 4 ; age of, 8 ; happiness of, 89, 90 ; government of, 113 ; freedom of, 149 ; supervision of, 295, 296 Studies, law of returns of, 266; in English, economics, history, 272 ; divisions of, 278 Sturtevant, President J. M., quota- tion from, 206, 207 Supervision of students greater in preparatory school, 295, 296 Tappan, President, allusion to, 66 Taxation, freedom from, 240 Teacher, personality of, 5; training of, 12; importance of vitality of, 288 Theological schools, 297 Time, value of, to professional stu- dents, 307 Trustees, nature and wort of hoards of, 21 Tucker, President, quotation from, 40 Tulane University, allusion to, 155 Turgot, allusion to, 224 Twentieth century, educational prob- lems of, 261 Tyler's " History of Amherst College," quotations from, 104, 118 Union Theological Seminary, allusion to. 172 Unit of education, the student, 4 Unity, value of, in college, 85; prin- ciple of, 262 Universities, English, government of, 43 ; property of, 166, 167 Universities, German, government of, 45 ; resources of, 167 University, difference of, from a col- lege, 96 Vassar College, first president of, 65; allusion to, 244 Virginia, University of, rebellion in, 124 Vitality in the teacher, 288 Wabash College, allusion to, 157 Wallace, G. R., quotation from, 107 Ware, Henry, allusion to, 38 Waring, George E., allusion to, 181 Washington and Lee University, 159 Wayland, President, allusion to, 50, 75 Webster, Professor, of Clark Univer- sity, 74 Wellesley College, allusion to, 244 Wesleyan Academy, Wilbraham, suit of, 247 Wesleyan University, allusion to, 155 Western Eeserve University, appoint- ment of professors, 25, 26 Wilbraham, town of, suit of, 247 320 Index William and Mary College, Phi Beta Wood.President, of Bo wdoin, allusion Kappa at, 108 to, 73 Williams College, appointment of pro- Woolsey, President T. D., quotation fessors, 23, 24 ; of Trustees, 39 ; rebel- from, 78 ; allusion to, 282 lion in, 125; suit of, 247, 248 Williamstown, town of, suit of, 248 Yale University, appointment of pro- Wisconsin, University of, appoint- fessors, 23 ; of Trustees, 39 ; purpose ment of professors, 27 ; of Regents, of foundation, 76, 77 ; clubs in, 99 ; 40, 41 rebellions in, 120 ; increase of funds Witherspoon, President, allusion to, of, 165 ; aid for students, 205 ; gifts 74 to reflect contemporary conditions, Women, college benefactors, 170, 171 236 321 ^ '^ J, 9 ^^./' " /■ c\ •^ <, ,. ■* 0^ ,-"** "' i ^^ - .^^ ,-.v ry ■' -Svj'-'^ c ~- ^H K-^. .^'..^0 ^' s^^ ^ 'of- y tp„ /'Cl|Xf^'- .j^ % 'Bill i&''^ * 9 1 ^ "■ ^,# \> ■Vv^" s tP •\- ,>i, V^^' %. ,-V- A^'^' "-.P "m Sy %^ " /• o v. . s ^ '^ '■ -f^ v ^. x^' '/' ci-. ■^ "'c. ' .C^ 0' x" LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 019 754 734