The throaty contralto of the first robin
the clumping obligate of student foot-gear on the campus board-walk; the wheeze of victrolas leaking through half-opened windows of torrid fraternity houses; and, occasionally, from out the unidentifiable cavern of the night, convivial bellowings: all acclaim that spring has came!
The trustees have voted that Dartmouth's one hundred and fiftieth birthday is to be celebrated next October. Their action disposes of much questioning. The nature of the ceremonial to be enacted is still undetermined. As THE MAGAZINE has already ventured to remark, however, those who plan these things usually divide into two sharply opposed groups, the cheese-cloth group, and the hot-air group; each as clearly defined in its way as was each of the parties of tourists encountered by Tartarin in certain of his peregrinations. The one insists upon home-dyed pageantry; the other, upon imported oratory. Each can cite reason and precedent in favor of its particular position. But their deliberations usually conclude in a compromise which goes far to demonstrate that the truth lies not at the mean, but at both extremes. Yet however it goes in detail, an institutional anniversary is bound to be a pretty formal thing, characterized by many processions, with many pauses at historic shrines whose significance, dimmed perhaps by time, must be made, for the moment at least, to glisten in the reflected effulgence of polished phrases.
No less suitable occasion for the genial informality of class reunions could well be imagined. These will come, as they should, at Commencement time, a period whose program swings through an orbit sufficiently roomy to admit numberless independent twirlings within its expansive circumference.
And, in this connection, some inquiry has been made as to the status of "reuning" classes this year. Official opinion seems to be about as follows: classes whose reunions would ordinarily be held in 1919 will have first claim on College facilities for housing, and, on application after May first, to Mr. A. P. Fairfield will, early in June, have dormitories regularly assigned to them. It is urged, however, that applications be not made until they may be accompanied by a reasonably accurate statement of the number of single men and couples for whom accommodation is sought. Heretofore there has never been great difficulty in caring for the "re-uners" and all other comers as well. While next Commencement promises to be the biggest ever, it is safe to assume that the elastic hospitality of the College will stretch to meet any emergency.
How good a College do we deserve? We alumni of Dartmouth are a sensitive lot: probally no more so than the alumni of other colleges, but sensitive none the less. We do not like to have outsiders criticize Dartmouth. We do not ourselves like to observe things about it that might afford outsiders a ground for criticism. When that does occur, we take vigorous steps to have the situation corrected; which is to say, we write a good, stiff letter to the administration.
What we like less than having the College criticized, is having it belittled.
For us it is the best of all colleges, best in location, in equipment, in officers, in student body, in spirit. Perhaps we are inclined to take athletic success as the irrefutable proof of all this. Be that as it may, we resent any classification that fails to put it at the top — primus interpares — and we are proud of our resentment as an evidence of loyalty.
Fortunately many of the things we believe about Dartmouth we believe truly. But, after all, what real concern are they of ours? Eleazar Wheelock, Daniel Webster, William J. Tucker, — founder, refounder, interpreter, — what have we had to do with these giants, except to eat of the fruit of their titanic labors ? One hundred and fifty years ago Dartmouth College was a log hut submerged in the vastness of a primeval forest; unknown save to a few missionary zealots. Today its outpost buildings fret the rim of the plain. Its students have carried the knowledge of its worth to every corner of the globe, and old-world battlefields have been dyed with blood the redder for the Dartmouth winds that once set it to glad leaping.
But of all the thousands who have passed in and out of the doors of the College; who have loved the place; who have taken pride in it; who have met death the more unfalteringly because Dartmouth men are brave; how many have turned back consciously to help strengthen the College in the things essential to the fulfillment of its task? Very, very few.
Somehow we have taken that fulfill" ment for granted. There have always been some of our number, and others whom they have gathered about them, who have carried on the work in Hanover. Pry them loose from Dartmouth ? Impossible! They all love the place so well that they will stay by it at half the wage of other places. Thus we have found gratification in the loyalty of these men, and have even been puffed up about it, as in some way participators in virtue, instead of hanging our heads in shame that we should allow such a thing to be.
It cannot be much longer. The same process that has stripped the church of its preachers is now at work in the colleges. The mental and spiritual characteristics that, in earlier days, turned men to the ministry have, during the past quarter century, found outlet for expression in numberless avenues of social work where the recompense is adequate. The late generation has followed these new and attractive ways.
Now the qualities that make for good teachers are in demand in a changing social, political and industrial world. The man who knows and who can expound his knowledge need no longer be confined to the narrow rostrum of the college lecture hall. A thousand fascinating vistas open before him, vistas not of ease but of creative usefulness that challenges alike his altruism and his self reliance. And, as they open before him, the narrowing margin of economic independence behind develops a knife-edge to cut him loose from old interests and old loyalties and to release him into paths of brighter promise.
This process has already begun. In recognition of it, certain institutions, with which we alumni like to claim at least parity for Dartmouth, have financially fortified their present assets in qualified faculties and are reaching out with flattering offers to the strong men of other colleges, — to some of the strong men of Dartmouth.
Dartmouth is on the defensive now as it has never been before in this respect; and the situation is not one that can be met by the application of an alleviating hundred dollars here and there. It can be met only by the great expansion of all the resources of the College, — actual and potential. Of the latter we alumni constitute the largest, most readily accessible, and most properly responsible item. Last year about half of us met the shock of untoward circumstance and saved the College from the difficulties of an acute crisis whose menace we could only in part forecast. Now we must learn as a whole what a gradually increasing part of us has been learning, that the College reliance upon us cannot be satisfied in one year only, but must in itself be continuous and continuously met. Opposed to this there are two alternatives: one is the capitalizing, once and for all, of what ought to be an annual gift for income. That is obviously out of the question. The other is the accepting of a swift and certain deterioration in the educational quality and standing of the institution. As time passes, we are quite likely to discover that — without much regard to other considerations — the quality of the College will bear a direct ratio to the degree of our participation in shouldering its burdens. We are a sensitive lot, to be sure, but, in the long run, we shall get about as we give. The question is still; How good a College do we deserve?
