The action of the Board of Trustees in electing Doctor John M. Gile '87
as a life trustee will meet with general approval. Elected in 1912 as an alumnus trustee, and reelected in 1917, Doctor Gile has already given long and valuable service to the College.
A resident of Hanover and familiar with the north country as few men through his professional activities and occasional hunting and fishing trips, he is peculiarly fitted to assist in meeting the problems connected with the second College Grant.
Readers of the MAGAZINE will recall his interesting and informing article on the Grant, appearing last spring and will realize how important his services in this connection must be. But aside from this phase of his work, Doctor Gile brings a thorough grasp of the educational and administrative problems facing the College gained from long experience.
It is fortunate that he can continue to give of his time and knowledge in the service of the College.
The MAGAZINE feels, in common with yourself and every other sincere alumnus of Dartmouth College, that it should be needless to urge immediate and tangible attention to the matter of the Alumni Fund. It is, however, unfortunately too true that it isn't needless. Consider, if you please, that a substantial proportion of the present alumni body contributes nothing to this fund. Consider also that of those who do ultimately contribute, too large a number require to be followed up, entailing a burden of effort on the class agents who are serving at great personal inconvenience—not to mention the extra expense—which burden and expense could be avoided by the exercise of a little kindly consideration on the part of the contributors.
It is reasonable to suppose that at least 99 per cent of the alumni of every college, and certainly at least so many among our own fellowship, would say they were enthusiastic and loyal sons of the Alma Mater and would warmly resent any imputation of indifference. It is necessary, however, for entire conviction to translate this enthusiastic loyalty into works. Too many give nothing at all to the Alumni Fund. Too many give belatedly and after what should be a wholly unnecessary and oft-reiterated urgence. It is of the essence of alumni loyalty to give, and to give quickly, whatever it is reasonable and fair for the individual to give for this end.
By this time there can be but little need to explain the theory of this fund. It is well known that Dartmouth is insufficiently endowed. Our present endowment per student is only $3000. Harvard's endowment per student is $6500, Princeton's $5700, Yale's $8500, Amherst's about $12000. The result is that Dartmouth faces two possible courses as alternatives. Either we may embark upon an intensive campaign designed to raise several millions of dollars to be invested ; or we may go on as we now are, collecting every year a sum which represents something like the interest on the millions which we have not raised. It is perfectly clear that the time for an endowment campaign is past. Such things have been done to death, so to say. The task of obtaining, from a world weary of giving to such ends, the sum we need would be vastly excessive of the burden we incur by contributing annually the smaller sums needed to express the interest on an endowment. Therefore, Dartmouth adheres to the latter method and now asks of the alumni their generous aid to secure the absolutely essential money for the current year.
Any one can see the disadvantages of such a system—for of course it has disadvantages. Any one may be entirely sure, however, that the system is retained because in the estimation of those best qualified to judge the disadvantages are outweighed by the advantages in current conditions. It appears to be the only feasible way at present—and it is in most respects also the easiest way. In the course of years one will, by making persistent small contributions, give as much as, or more than, one would give in a lump sum to provide a proper endowment. But "it hurts less," and it has a certain incidental benefit to confer in that it retains the constant effort of the alumni body, instead of giving it an excuse to say that it had done its bit once and forever, and might thereafter dismiss the College from its mind.
Year after year, devoted men in each class exert themselves without stipend to secure from the members of each class the quota assigned. It is not fair to these men to add to their difficulties by forgetfulness and indifference. The man who cannot or will not give anything whatever is at least obligated to say so at once, if he must, and not burden a classmate with the duty of writing him innumerable letters. The man who can give, and who intends to give, is under a like duty of responding promptly and cheerfully, and not burden his classmate with the task of writing repeated letters to him. All of which is easier to say than to live up to, alas! The best-intentioned among us often forget, postpone, procrastinate, put off until tomorrow what might exactly as well be done today.
Our first word, then, is one of urgence to do at once whatever you honestly regard as the maximum you can do, when the class agent sends his very first letter. Let that be his last! There's no conceivable excuse for failure to reply in some way or other—but preferably the cheque should be sent forthwith. This lightens the task for a classmate who is giving generously of his time, and you know you ought to do it without any reminders from us. The thing is, do it!
Dartmouth College is great and is growing. To fully half the alumni it is greater than any of us when in college ever dreamed in our wildest moments it could be. Its needs are correspondingly great. It has to justify the faith of these young men who come to us yearly in search of what a fine old New England college can give. The demands for plant and professors are proportioned to our size. The estimated shortage this year—the discrepancy between available funds and the year's proper expenses—will be close to $80,000. This sum we have somehow to provide, since there is no invested endowment to supply it. It will be done in the usual way at Dartmouth by alumni contributions, supposably proportioned to the incomes of the individual graduates. Our belief is that no alumnus is in such depleted circumstances that he can afford to give nothing at all. Every last man in the roster ought to give something as the earnest of his professions of loyalty. It is probable that every last man fully intends to give, if he professes any loyalty at all. But many never get around to it; and those who finally do rally are often deplorably slow about it.
To a classically trained audience no orator needs explain what the Romans meant by "bis dot qui cito dat." We may dismiss as frivolous the familiar quibble that it might imply that the man who gives quickly usually has to give a second time in order to make up for some who never do give. Let's be serious about it and recognize a sort of annual due, to be paid with a cheerful heart in lieu of a much greater contribution intended to add some three millions to the college endowment funds. We have our choice between furnishing this money and seeing the college crippled by untimely and disastrous economies. We cannot go back. It isn't thinkable that any Dartmouth man wants to see the college slip back to its days of inconsiderable magnitude. But it will most infallibly do that if we shirk our responsibility in the matter of enabling it to go on.
Finally and in conclusion, brethren, don't delay in replying to your class agents. They deserve every ounce of cooperation you've got. It's no fun for them at best. It is particularly distasteful to them to dun you. One recalls Benjamin Franklin's dignified appeal in seeking to induce subscribers to step in and pay their bills: "Gentlemen, to you individually it is little; to me it is a great deal. I pray you lighten the burden for me by making it needless for me to pursue you with my importunities."
It is the College that asks this of you, remember, rather than any individual man or body of men. The College is doing its full part to make you proud and happy to be enrolled in its fellowship. All it demands is that you do yours and that you translate into gifts the fervor of your affection. The College that you knew, perhaps, as a struggling little institution of some 400 men now numbers a full 2000. Enable it to do for this larger number even more than it was enabled to do for you.
The MAGAZINE greatly appreciates at all times the interest of those who write letters to its editors expressive of their views, quite regardless of agreement or disagreement between such correspondents and itself. The editors make no claim to infallibility, and where their expressions of opinion reveal differences among alumni equally sincere in desiring the best for the college, they hope to be of a candid and open mind to consider and weigh the grounds for such differences. In the matter about to be referred to it is probable that no difference of opinion exists, in reality; but as the topic is a vitally interesting one it is worth while to reproduce the query of a correspondent who is somewhat disturbed for fear the MAGAZINE undervalues the athletic side, in its urgence that the athletic side be not overvalued. It is possible, but we think improbable. The letter says, in part, this:
"I wish you would read over again one section of the editorial of advice to undergraduates—that one dealing with athletics. You don't say so, but the implication is that being an athlete is hardly worth while. Now we alumni take it for granted that it isn't possible for a man to be simply an athlete and nothing more at Dartmouth. We feel that an athlete is as truly devoting himself to the service of the college as a debater, or any other outstanding figure of undergraduate life—but serving it no more usefully.
"We alumni of are trying to keep in touch with our representatives at Dartmouth. We are encouraging them to live their lives to the full, every moment of them. We urge them to serve the college with every talent, every gift, they possess. We believe that our athletes are developing initiative and self-confidence which will vastly help them in their later life.
"Would you or one of your associates be willing to embody in an article for the magazine some such points as I have rather feebly made and thus counteract the inference which clings to the editorial?"
We can find nothing in the above which indicates a real difference from our own belief, or from that which we have endeavored to express, although it is apparent that to some readers the meaning was not entirely clear. The undergraduate has indeed been warned that success in athletics, unless clearly supported by other evidence of his excellence, goes a very little way at present in the getting of a job. It has even been hinted that a reputation for notably superior prowess in athletics sometimes amounts to raising an adverse presumption—often quite unjust, but not the less real—which the newly-graduated student has to rebut by other facts, unrelated to sport, in order to get a favorable hearing. How widespread this tendency is among the leading business men of the country we cannot say; but it is unquestionably felt by the great majority of those with whom the editors happen to have talked within the past year. It also happens that many of them were prominent athletes when in college.
We should be sorry to have our remarks construed as intending that to be a good athlete is "hardly worth while." Of course it is worth while. The thing to guard against is making it the chief end of collegiate existence, or failing to provide with it coordinate evidence of similar excellence in other lines of student activity. If a man's physical talents fit him to serve the college in an especial way, it is plainly his duty to serve the college therewith ; and he would be less than a true Dartmouth man if he did not do it. Of that lamentable failure we apprehend no danger whatsoever. The danger that we do apprehend is the one we speak of—the overemphasis of the athletic side, as if it afforded the principal reason for seeking a college education.
However, as we have said at starting, there seems to be no real divergence of opinion between the MAGAZINE, and the correspondent who suspects an issue to be joined. There is none, so far as we can discover. And we reiterate our gratification at receiving letters, whether in approval or criticism, which indicate a warm and intelligent interest in the affairs of the college as reflected by and reported through the college publications.
A certain clannishness among the graduates of the smaller colleges of the country has been drawn to public attention of late—genially by the BostonHerald, and rather more tartly by the Springfield Republican, the latter seeming inclined to specify Dartmouth as one too much given to this amiable sin. It is hardly possible to deny the soft impeachment as a matter of generalities. The smaller colleges, with their naturally greater intimacies, do tend to clannishness in after life much more easily than do the huge colleges with their lesser intimacies. It is further true that in communities where Dartmouth is strong in alumni—as is notably true in Massachusetts—this tendency is certain to be more marked. It would be difficult to prove, however, that the effect on the community had been other than salutary, so far as this is a commentary on the public service. Massachusetts, we now recall, has had at least two recent governors from among the number of our alumni; and it has come to be a sort of unwritten law that this College should be abundantly represented in the personnel of the Massachusetts bench, thanks to the fact that it has so long and so efficiently recruited the Massachusetts bar.
Beyond doubt the clan spirit among alumni could be overdone; but we doubt it can be charged that this has happened in our case, if measured by any reasonable test. One makes allowance for a certain irritation among such as are not of our sheepfold, so to speak, and for a certain propensity to criticize without much reason, on sentimental grounds alone. Meantime it is hard to see how the smaller colleges can very well help it. The thing is perfectly natural. One who casts about to find a suitable man for some definite post is very likely to prefer one from his own college as against others, ceteris paribus. Is it really a bad thing ? Is it narrowing ? It doubtless could become so, if unduly exaggerated; but we are far from believing that this very frequently occurs save in isolated and sporadic localitiesespecially in densely settled states where a mulitude of college men from a great variety of institutions, greater and smaller, exists. The criticism is mainly the product of a transitory irritation, due to a momentary feeling that some single college insists upon occupying too large a place in the public eye. But, bless you, they're all alike at bottom.
The suggestion of former-Governor Brown that the so-called West Side state road in New Hampshire be given the name of the Dartmouth Highway is an interesting one and on the whole an appropriate one, although by no means unanimous concurrence in the idea is to be expected. The name finds its justification in the fact that the College is an important point on the West Side route to the mountains, plus the fact that the present appellation (West Side) seems to lack inspiration, although admirably descriptive. That the state did well in naming the northerly route from the line at Tyngsborough (Mass.) to the White Mountain district in honor of Daniel Webster is universally admitted; and it has been suggested that Massachusetts might appropriately mark the road from the New Hampshire border to Marshfield (where Webster ended his days) under the same name. Why not a Dartmouth Highway to match it on the westerly side of the state—or a Wheelock Highway, if that seems better? Dartmouth Highway strikes the present editors as preferable, in case the change from West Side Road is to be made.
The sudden death at Washington in January of Hon. Sherman Everett Burroughs ('94) removes from the fellowship of our alumni a notable man whose attainments had won him eminence in state and national councils. Mr. Burroughs was about closing his congressional career, having declined to run for a renomination in the recent campaign. His term would have expired with the current session. His death, wholly unlooked for in one so young and apparently so vigorous in both body and mind, has shocked a wide circle of friends. Mr. Burroughs entered college in the autumn of 1890 and received his degree in 1894, after a course in which high scholarship was revealed in whatever he undertook. Resisting the allurements of a professorship, which was easily open to him had . he desired it, he went to Washington as secretary to his uncle, then a representative from New Hampshire, the late Hon. Henry M. Baker of Bow, studying law in the meantime and finally entering upon the practice of his profession in Manchester, where he attained a prominent position at the bar. He had planned to return to the practice of law in Manchester after March 4, feeling that the demands upon him precluded further public service with its incidental difficulties due to its inadequate remuneration. But during his service at Washington he had, as everywhere else, made a wide circle of warm friends who recognized the qualities of mind and heart so notably blended in him; and in the comparatively brief term of his connection with national affairs he had made a place for himself such as befitted his natural sagacity and high ideals of manhood. Too few men of Sherman Burroughs' quality get into Congress and too few long remain there. The college has lost a good friend, the country a faithful servant, and the community in which he lived an ideal citizen.
Carnival at the Rink—Dartmouth takes its Hockey "Neat"
