To Superintendent Morrison are due thanks for his able and interesting
article in this number of THE MAGAZINE. It deserves the most careful perusal, partly for the better appreciation of its indubitable truths; partly for the surer discovery of its certain, but far from obvious, fallacies. For THE MAGAZINE to make extended comment upon the points where it is in agreement with Mr. Morrison would be unnecessary; to. attempt rebuttal where it is in disagreement would be far from a courteous return for a courtesy rendered. The object which was sought in inviting the contribution was a clear statement of the position of the chief officer of public instruction in the State, and his reasons in support of it. That object is attained.
It is particularly gratifying to observe that Mr. Morrison does not insist upon the immediate establishment of a State University. If he is to be accused of radicalism, it is radicalism in process,—not yet fullfledged. Such being the case, THE MAGAZINE can not see that the educational situation in New Hampshire is at all serious.' In so far as it is muddled, clarification would appear to depend mainly on the earnest desire of the various interested parties to seek in mutual confidence and good will the best educational interests of the State.
Today Dartmouth stands as a national college. By that very fact, if other conditions are, in least measure, satisfied, it will always be a more valuable ,agent in educating New Hampshire boys than could a State University, which, in crowded New England, might easily become.rather a monument to provincial prejudice than to intellectual and moral progress.
As for the other conditions, it was in the mind of the founders that Dartmouth, whatever its growth, should be at all times sensitive to the needs of New Hampshire. Sensitive it has ever been. According to the terms of the ancient charter, the governor of the State becomes, by virtue of his office, a trustee of the College. Five others of the twelve trustees, not including the President, must be citizens of the State. Thus the balance of power in the ultimate control of Dartmouth College policy lies in the hands of men who represent public responsibility in its best form, unselfishly, because absolutely free from political domination. They are at all times accessible to the Superintendent of Public Instruction. He, in turn, must acknowledge obligation to them as members of the community which he is pledged to serve.
If arrogance and stolid conservatism sometimes characterize endowed colleges, state controlled institutions present objections, which, if less abhorrent to the present generation, no less militate against complete effectiveness. But to New Hampshire, in her awakening to institutional development, is afforded the rare opportunity of a cooperation in the encouragement of higher learning which would obviate most of the difficulties which existent methods display. Such a cooperation would go far toward realizing the century-old dreams of Wheelock and Wentworth. For its successful operation they provided what would seem a quite sufficient machinery. Can it be that the twentieth century will produce the wisdom for its full utilization?
The Dartmouth remarks that the projected road for which Mr. Tuck's unremitting generosity is responsible, will constitute a "monument more enduring than bronze". Would that this were literally so! That it is not, must be charged to the essential nature of roads in general rather than to any fault in that which Mr. Tuck will build; for this will represent the very best that landscape architecture and civil engineering can devise. When complete, it will do more than afford a new means of access to Hanover: it will extend a constant and irresistible invitation.
It is said that when Andrew Carnegie was lavishing money upon the charming lake and graceful bridges that constitute one of the most lovely attractions of Princeton, a member of the academic community rather ungraciously remarked: "Sir, we need bread and you insist upon giving us cake".
Perhaps this road is cake. If so, thank heaven that we northern New Englanders may get an occasional slice! It will do our Puritan stomachs good. Thank heaven the more that in his benefactions Mr. Tuck appreciates due proportions. Bread he has given us without stint. How much more do we love him now for this most excellent sweet!
Prom week is almost upon us. For some reason this year it is booked for early May, instead of affording a breathless and unhealthful introduction to the examination period. Whatever reasoning led the committee to its decision as to dates, the reward of fine weather for the festivities is deserved. Perhaps some day we shall awake to the fact that May is not a suitable time for a prom, anyway. If organized entertaining might be concentrated in February, May could be given over, as it should, to informal visitings and to the actual enjoyment of river, hill, and plain, clad in the alluring garments of spring.
As it is, we hospitably invite our friends hither, and then proceed sedulously to keep them indoors, exhausting them with dances and teas and letting them out under the sky only to scuttle to occasional meals or to roost on petrified bleachers at baseball games. They might as well be careering about under the Arctic circle or in the depths of the New York subway, in so far as natural surroundings affect their occupation or enjoyment.
Yet it is probable that the present tradition will hold for some time to come. Undergraduate conservatism will take care of that. If it would cling as tenaciously to the traditional simplicity of affairs, there would be reason for devout thankfulness. As it is, each new committee, bent on rivalling the work of all predecessors, seeks new elaborations. There have been plans presented for decking out Dartmouth in Junior week that would make the dear old College look like an imitation of Coney Island on the eve of a bartenders' "grand reunion and ball". Fortunately these have been generally sidetracked by some higher power, which has, however, been accused of antediluvian moss-backism for its pains.
The ideal picture of education represents an enlightened teacher holding eager youth by the hand, gleefully treading with him the path of knowledge. That is classic. If photographed in allegorical actuality for exhibit in the movies, it would more likely represent the pedagogue as now pushing his companion from behind, now dragging him from before, with not infrequent uneasy intervals devoted to the opposed process of holding him down by sitting on his head.
But to return to Prom week, the present committee, having accomplished an excellent reversal in dates, may, quite possibly, prove retrogressively progressive in other respects, and so utilize the allurements of May that thoughts of February will be forever banished.
