NO RICH MAN'S COLLEGE
The apprehension expressed during the spring weeks by the editor of "The Dartmouth" lest the advance forecast in the price of dormitory rooms presaged the unwelcome estate of a "rich men's college" was perhaps natural enough, but on the whole seems hardly to be justified by the present state of affairs. It is revealed that possibly half the dormitory rooms, especially the more modern or more recently renovated ones, must be increased somewhat in rental in order to make the money invested in dormitory buildings yield its proper return (which is something like \XA, per cent only); but the remaining half will continue for the time to rent at their accustomed figure and the space will suffice to accommodate those who, by reason of what in classic times were called res angusta domi, cannot aspire to the higher-priced living apartments.
There is no question, of course, of the steady upward trend of the cost of education, which is natural enough in view of the fact that everything which goes into education also costs more. Tuition has been marked up to $400 at Dartmouth, without thereby even approaching the actual expense involved in educating the man. The editor of "The Dartmouth" very naturally takes this element into account as a straw showing which way the wind blows and cites it in connection with the advance in the rental rate of rooms. What it really means, however, is merely that the colleges are subjected to the same economic pressure that affects everything else—Dartmouth is by no means alone in increasing her rates. That a "rich man's college" is even remotely in prospect we cannot believe, and should most heartily dislike to believe. Dartmouth is no more likely to become a rich man's college now than in the past. Expenses have increased there—but so have they increased outside. One might with equal force say that the United States tended to become a rich man's country, or the world a rich man's world.
It has been argued with a great deal of force, from the purely logical point of view, that education should be charged for at precisely what it really costs and that those who cannot afford the very considerable outlay which this would entail should go without, exactly as most of us go without steam yachts or other luxuries which lie beyond our means. If that were to become the rule, there might indeed be danger that the higher education would become a privilege of the wealthy alone, or of those who could contrive to obtain the added amount of scholarship aid. One believes, however, that the protest against it would amply suffice to prevent this policy from being applied in its full strength. The protest, moreover, would have a large measure of justification behind it in the country's need for making education as general as circumstances permit. This is still rather a youthful nation and its re quirements may well differ from those of a land with ten centuries of continuous history behind it.
A "rich man's college" too generally denotes a college where wealthy idlers go, and there is at least no indication that such a fate awaits Dartmouth. One has to admit a general alteration in the standards of living to a level which in earlier days would have seemed preposterous luxury; for this MAGAZINE has within the past few months reproduced the personal accounts of oldtime students, revealing the narrow scope of comfort which was once the portion of even the fairly well-to-do and the present circumstances of less wealthy students might well appear soft and sybaritic by contrast. We start from a different scratch, so to speak. Light, heat, water and personal surroundings have taken new proportions—and the resources of the average citizen have also been enhanced, so that things can be afforded now which in past times were the perquisites of the privileged few. Note the number of artisans who now ride comfortably to their daily work in motor-cars which no one appears to regard as an extravagance. We can perceive nothing which really portends Dartmouth's becoming a college of the rich.
