ests, and citizens who also use their citizenship with su-
preme regard to the public good. The title of the first ad-
dress reproduced in the book, originally given in Carnegie



392 MY GENERATION

Hall, November 17, 1905, was "Good Citizenship depend-
ent upon Great Citizens"; the title of the second, origi-
nally given in Tremont Temple, May 25, 1906, "The
Sacredness of Citizenship."

The public relations of a college president may become
to him a kind of avocation. Literally, an avocation is a
calling away for a time from one's vocation — not a neg-
lect of it or an interference with it, for then it would defeat
its own end as a diversion or relief. Travel becomes such
an avocation even when undertaken primarily, as it usu-
ally is, on official or semi-oflBcial business. It changes most
quickly the routine, the environment, the atmosphere of
the daily work. Incidentally, it offers special facilities for
uninterrupted work. The parlor car on a short trip or a
sleeper on some long journey is a better literary workshop
than the office. I recall w^ith delight the compartment of a
corridor car on the Santa Fe road which gave me the pro-
tection of four days of uninterrupted writing from Chicago
to San Francisco. But the avocation of travel offers its
chief relief in the change it brings about so naturally from
the executive to the social side of the profession. I do not
refer to formal social functions which may be very solemn
and very tedious, but to those more personal associations
through which one widens his knowledge of men of his own
and of other callings, and enters more freely into the com-
radeship to which this larger acquaintance with men and
their varied interests opens the way. I count intelligent
and well-directed travel a vocational and an avocational
asset of a college president. Whatever value it may rep-
resent to him personally may usually be credited in still
larger degree to the college.

I think that I should extend this valuation of travel be-



THE DARTMOUTH PERIOD 393

yond the range of the constituency of the college and even
beyond the country. It almost goes without saying that a
college president ought to know the local sources from
which the college draws its men, and that he ought to
know as far as possible those parts of the country into
which the college pours its alumni. Such knowledge on his
part is the only safeguard against provincialism, the un-
pardonable sin in a college president in so far as he as-
sumes to be a man of affairs. As a scholar the escape from
provincialism is far easier. Indeed, it is difficult to under-
stand how a scholar, if he be sincere and courageous, can
fall into this danger. The gates of knowledge all swing out-
ward. But even within the range of the broadest scholar-
ship there is need of an avocation which may help to make
the vocation more real, to give it contact with things most
human, to put it into the currents of the world. Of course
this effect can be realized only through the experiences
of the man himself, and of these experiences one is the re-
sult, as I have been urging, of well-directed and intelligent
travel. As I am writing these lines, the news has just come
of the surrender of Constantinople to the Allies. Ever since
the War has assumed its world proportions, I have felt that
wherever the military decision might be made, the political
decision must be made there, where alone the whole world
was within reach. Many students of history and of current
events have expressed this view. Such had been my own
view from the limited study I had been able to give to the
problems of the near East. But I date my impression of
the meaning of the possession of Constantinople m the
struggle for empire or in the struggle for international
peace, to the sensation new, strange, and lasting which
came upon me as I crossed for the first time the Galata



394 MY GENERATION

Bridge — here, I said to myself, is the meeting-place of the
races, here it is still East and West.

VII

Tvx) Years of Crippled Leadership

In his more than Emersonian essay on" Work and Play,"
Horace Bushnell develops the theory that play is not the
antithesis of work, and is therefore not to be defined in
terms of sport, or recreation, or rest, but that it is rather
the normal expression of work at its best, a state in which
one reaches the highest degree of enjoyment. "In short,"
he says, " we are to conceive that the highest and complete
state of man, that which his nature endeavors after and
in which onlv it fulfills its sublime instinct, is the state of
play." Dr. Bushnell's philosophy of work and play touches
the vexed question of the relief of physical and mental
strain. One theory finds the necessary and apparently
sufficient relief in the reduction of the hours of labor —
the theory of industrialism. To what extent this relief,
when it shall be fully brought about in the manual occu-
pations, will prove to be satisfying, must depend on the
use of the leisure thus secured. For the theory leaves
out of account the relief which lies in one's interest in his
work. It makes work altogether work with no play in it.
All the play element in life must be found outside and
apart from work. The other theory emphasizes in different
ways the Bushnell conception of "work and play." It is
the only possible theory which can be applied to profes-
sional life, and to those callings in which the wear and
tear lies in the constant pressure of responsibility. The
principle of an eight-hour day has no application to the
professions except in a superficial way to teaching. In the



THE DARTMOUTH PERIOD 395

professions a man must be a law unto himself in his use of
time, the governing factor being his temperament or the
specific nature of his work, like that of the doctor. The
great distinction as it now exists under the reign of indus-
trialism between the manual laborer and the professional
worker is the lack of interest, certainly of relieving interest
in his work on the part of the former, and the excess of
interest on the part of the latter, an excess which may de-
feat its own end. In his case the play of the work may
simply intensify it, passing altogether beyond the bounds
of relief.

I confess to having adopted Dr. Bushnell's theory of the
play element in work quite unconsciously, but when I
began to consider in a practical way the question of work
and rest, I found that the theory had become a governing
idea. I had occasion at times to discuss the matter with
our family physician. Dr. William T. Smith, Dean of the
Medical School, who took exception to my theory and
still more to my practices. Dr. Smith was a man of great
sanity of judgment, which at this particular point had been
confirmed by his own experience. His early professional
life had been arrested by a nervous disability from which
he had slowly recovered. It is but fair to him to say that
he gave me frequent cautions, and endeavored to moder-
ate my working pace, but my natural temperament and
the exigencies of the day often led me to override his ad-
vice. I counted also very much upon my fondness for out-
of-door life and so long as possible upon out-of-door sport.
^Vhen tennis became too violent an exercise, I tried golf,
but golf was too manifestly an old man's game when ap-
proached from age, and therefore no game at all — only a
certain " mode of motion," or at best a gamble with nature.



396 MY GENERATION

I did not, however, neglect the ordinary reliefs of the sum-
mer vacation, especially after the work of reconstruction
was well under way. In the summer of 1902 I bought a
cottage on the river at York Harbor. This was next below
the old Sayward house, the original home of Judge Say-
ward, Mrs. Tucker's great-great-grandfather. This an-
cestral interest, taken in connection with the beauty of the
spot, had already led IVIrs. Tucker's sisters to turn to York
Harbor for their summer home — Mrs. George I. Rock-
wood and Mrs. Leonard Wheeler of Worcester, and Miss
Cheever of Smith College. The early associations of the
family with colonial history added greatly to the interest
of our summer sojourns. The deciphering of Judge Say-
ward's diary, extending over thirty years and covering the
whole period of the Revolutionary War and the subse-
quent constitutional era, gave us many entertaining eve-
nings, owing to the personal idiosyncrasies of the author
and the glimpses into the local history of the Revolution-
ary times. Among the summer residents with whom we
formed most pleasant acquaintance were Mrs. Pratt and
Mrs. Bell, daughters of Rufus Choate, both remarkable
conversationalists. With Mr. Howells as guest at their
table, the flow of wit was never interrupted, but one sel-
dom saw such unconscious recognition of mutual rights in
conversation.

I had reminders beyond the cautions of my physician
of lessening powers of endurance, but I still relied upon
my power of quick recuperation and kept at work, as it
proved, too near the breaking-point. The break came sud-
denly, anticipating by two years the time upon which I
had calculated for a safe retirement.

Near the close of the winter of 1907, upon my return



THE DARTMOUTH PERIOD 397

from an extended and arduous trip among the alumni, I
suffered from an undefined attack which developed into a
severe and protracted illness. The unusual feature of this
illness was my inability to respond to the ordinary treat-
ment for a sickness of like symptoms. My power of recup-
eration which till now had not failed me was at a low ebb.
And yet it was not, according to the diagnosis of the at-
tending physicians, nervous prostration. Their final diag-
nosis traced the cause to a subtle but serious impairment
of the heart, and their advice was to the effect that I must
give over the hope of further active service of any essential
value to the College. Of course this meant my resignation.
As soon as I was able to understand the real significance
of their decision I dictated the following confidential letter
to the Trustees. The letter was sent to each individual
member of the Board. I was anxious that the decision
which I had had time to accept as a finality, should be given
time to reach with them a like result before it should be
given to the public. I also had the hope that they might be
able to hold the matter in hand until they could at least
make progress in the selection of my successor — possibly
to announce his election in connection with my resignation:

To the Trustees of Dartmouth College:

For the last eighteen months I have been conscious of an un-
defined physical disability which has given me at times serious
embarrassment, especially in meeting public engagements. The
sudden and somewhat protracted sickness through which I have
been passing has revealed the cause, namely, an impairment of
the heart. My physicians, Drs. Smith and Gile, advise me that I
cannot expect to do further efficient executive work. I take the
earliest opportunity to apprize you of their decision, and to
place before you my resignation of the Presidency of the College.
I have long recognized the fact that there are no gradations in



398 MY GENERATION

the work of a college president, in the way either of responsi-
bility or of initiative. From the nature of the work there can be
but one standard of efficiency. While therefore I anticipate by
two or three years the natural time of my resignation, I do so
with prompt and cheerful acquiescence in the law of all admin-
istrative service, which makes no provision for crippled leader-
ship. I now return to my books from which I virtually parted
company when I assumed the absorbing duties of the presi-
dency. If it shall seem to you to be a useful service, and in other
respects wise, I shall be glad to retain an informal connection
with the College through one or more courses of lectures, open
to seniors, upon the general subject of the "Formation and Ex-
pression of Public Opinion in a Democracy."

I cannot put by these fourteen years of service, happy in their
associations and inspiring in their purpose, without a word of
grateful acknowledgment to those through whom the service
has been made one of mutual obligation and delight — first to
you for your steadfast and unwavering support, and then to
the faculty, and to the students of successive classes, and to the
alumni, each and all of whom have contributed everything in
their power to the common end. With such cooperation no
reasonable good to the College has seemed unattainable. The
things which remain to be accomplished, very much larger than
any which have been wrought, go over with equal incentive and
hope to other hands. I count it a joy that, as I now relinquish the
position which you asked me as a graduate of the College to take,
I may resume my place in the united and enthusiastic fellowship
of our graduates, to add one more supporting force to the work of
my successor in the Presidency.

I am in constant esteem

Most sincerely yours

W. J. Tucker

Naturally it required some little time for the Trustees
to convince themselves of the finality which the letter
of resignation carried on its face, but after full con-
ference with Mr. Hopkins, the Secretary of the College,



THE DARTMOUTH PERIOD 399

who had been conversant with the exact state of affairs
from the beginning, and after advising personally with the
physicians, they addressed themselves directly to the emer-
gency. There was one man to whom their thoughts turned
unanimously for the succession to the presidency, Professor
Francis Brown, of Union Seminary, but as at a previous
time, his obligations to the Seminary were found to be
paramount. It was impossible to act with like unanimity
in the choice of any other person among the alumni or
among well-known educators; and meanwhile the press
was becoming persistent in its search for reliable informa-
tion in regard to my condition. To relieve the situation,
the Trustees asked if it would not be possible to withdraw
my resignation for a few months, with immediate leave of
absence, and with provision for all necessary relief from
oflScial duties should the chair remain unfilled at the open-
ing of the next academic year. To this request I made the
following response :

To the Trustees of Dartmouth College:

On the sixth of April, after the consultation of the doctors in
regard to my present sickness, I communicated to you the re-
sult of their decision, namely, that owing to an impairment of
the heart, it would be impossible for me to continue in the full
discharge of the duties of the presidency. It seemed to me so
essential that the duties of the oflBce should be maintained in
full efficiency that I placed before you my resignation — "Al-
though," as I then wrote, 'T anticipated by two or three years
the natural time of my resignation, I do so with prompt and
cheerful acceptance of the law of all administrative service
which makes no provision for crippled leadership."

My letter was sent to you confidentially in the hope that you
might be able to announce the election of my successor at the
same time that you announced my resignation. Acting under
the urgency of my desire, you endeavored to bring about the



400 MY GENERATION

result, but after earnest efTort you found that this course was
impracticable. You now ask me to withhold my letter, and to
retain the general supervision of the College until such time as
you may be able to give it over to my successor, without inter-
ruption to its work or policy. I had proposed, as you will recall,
to retain an informal connection with the College by the serv'ice
which I might render through a lectureship, but if in your judg-
ment I can render a better service for the time being by continu-
ing in partial executive work, I accede to your request. I shall be
obliged, however, to act under the following definite restrictions
— absence for the remainder of this year; and for the next year,
or such part of it as you may require, exemption from much of
the daily routine and from public engagements. I need not as-
sure you of my desire and purpose to cooperate with you in all
of your immediate plans for the maintenance and advancement
of the College. I see no reason whatever for any change in the
policy which has heretofore governed your action, nor for the
slightest abatement of your efforts for the strengthening, or
enrichment, or increase of the inheritance which you have the
honor to administer.
I am

In constant esteem and afiFection

W. J. Tucker

Hanover, N.H.

May 11, 1907

At the date of this letter I was still confined to my room,
though I had entered upon the stage of convalescence.
As soon as my strength allowed, Mrs. Tucker and I left
our home for Nantucket, where provision had been made
by friends for our reception quite in advance of the season.
No choice of a resting-place could have been happier.
There is a delightful sense of remoteness about Nantucket,
far enough at sea to emphasize its separateness from "the
continent." Out of the season it has a still more delightful
remoteness from the present. The daily steamer brings



THE DARTMOUTH PERIOD 401

its welcome mail and certain supplies, but otherwise it is
an intrusion. The island is quite self-contained. Perhaps
the first impression on the mind of a visitor or guest is that
of a real and genuine self-sufficiency. The streets of the old
town so finely adjusted to its local needs and to its exercise
of hospitality; the old but well-kept houses, of substance
whether of brick or wood, their Captain's Walk, reminiscent
of the early glories of the island; and the old wharves,
though no longer lined with the ships of trade, still alive
in the early morning or in the late afternoon with the
fleets of smacks and schooners going and coming about the
day's work — all these were a never-failing source of rest-
ful diversion. But the chief delight of the island both to
Mrs. Tucker and myself was the long stretch of the moors,
with their deep-rutted roads through the stiff sand, car-
peted with vines and clustered thick with dainty flowers in
the spring which turned to the rich berries of the fall. To
lie in the open sunshine in the tangled grasses of the moors
or on the sands, was to take the healing tonic of Nature
at its best, to feel the subtle invigoration which comes
through the relaxing of the muscles and the easing of the
whole tension of body and mind. During the stay on the
island I was under the professional care of Dr. Grouard,
a young physician highly trained in the schools at home
and abroad, who had established himself on the island,
whose practice was as greatly valued by summer residents
as by the inhabitants. I owe much to his sympathetic and
skillful treatment of my case during this period of con-
valescence. Our home for the time, as indeed on later
visits, was at Greynook, the house owned and managed
by Miss Dexter and Miss Brayton, residents of Providence,
but thoroughly at home in Nantucket. They had the true



402 MY GENERATION

art of the hostess, knowing precisely what to do and what
not to do for their guests. Greynook stood on the diffs
above the town, overlooking the breakwater and the har-
bor lights, and the open sea to the west. From our windows
we could sight the "Nantucket" and the "Sankaty"
soon after they passed the Cross-Rip Lightship on the
homeward trip.

During my absence from the College the local duties of
the oflBce were discharged by Acting President Lord, as-
sisted by Secretary Hopkins; and in the partial resumption
of these duties on my return I was increasingly indebted
to the active cooperation of both Professor Lord and Mr.
Hopkins. The months of continued service, which had been
promised to the Trustees, lengthened into the year, and
the year into a second, while the unsuccessful search for
a president went on. Outwardly the College kept its mo-
mentum. There was no diminution in attendance. Ruild-
ings which had been planned were carried to completion —
Massachusetts and New Hampshire among the dormitories,
the Nathan Smith (Medical) laboratory, Webster Alumni
Hall, and the enlargement of Rollins Chapel. The nor-
mal increase of the Faculty was maintained. An important
addition to the annual resources of the College was intro-
duced, in the action of the alumni at the annual meeting at
Commencement in 1907, inaugurating a fund of yearly sub-
scription for certain specified objects, after the manner of
the Yale Alumni Fund. I was apprised of this action of the
alumni while in Nantucket by the request through Mr.
Hilton that the fund bear my name. Nothing could have
been more grateful to me at the time than to have my
name associated with this constant and constantly increas-
ing source of financial supply to the College. And I have



THE DARTMOUTH PERIOD 403

shared in the gratification of the whole alumni body in the
result of the subscription of 1917-18 through which the
war deficit for that academic year was entirely wiped out,
and a surplus left to be applied to special objects.

As I have already remarked, a college president upon re-
tirement should not allow himself to indulge overmuch in
plans for his successor to carry out. Each new incumbent
of the office should have, so far as consistent with the nec-
essary continuity of executive action, the unencumbered
freedom of initiative. There were, however, at the time of
the temporary withdrawal of my resignation, two plans
affecting in different ways the interests of the Faculty that
I had for some time had in mind, which I now relinquished
with reluctance. One of them had to do with the increase of
the productivity of the College in teachers of college grade.
The deficiency of Dartmouth in this regard had begun to
affect its own interests. There was of course the compensa-
tion, already noted, in the enforced obligation to other col-
leges for so large a proportion of its teaching force, that it
insured the College against provincialism. But this safe-
guard was maintained at the cost of academic productivity.
Experience was beginning to show that this failure of the
College to produce in proper proportion its own teachers
meant an educational as well as an institutional loss. The
loss was manifested especially in the unstable and imper-
manent character of the lower grades of instruction. To
remedy this state of affairs, several teaching scholarships
and fellowships had been created. It was made a condition
of receiving appointment to the fellowships that the recip-
ients should hold themselves in readiness at the conclu-
sion of their graduate study to teach for a year should the
College need their service in the departments in which



404 MY GENERATION

they were qualified to instruct. A further aid and stimu-
lus to a larger interest in college teaching was indicated in
the policy of more careful and generous recognition of such
graduates as had already shown the requisite aptitude
and attainments for positions on the Faculty, as vacancies
might occur.

In the carrying-out of this purpose to increase the inter-
est of the College in academic teaching, an incident occurred
that disclosed a hitherto unsuspected sensitiveness in the re-
lation between the professional and the executive concep-
tions of college administration. An election to an assistant
professorship in one of the departments was to be made.
Among the instructors was one of special qualifications for
the position. His promotion would have naturally followed,
had the fact not become known, through an interview, that
his interest was altogether in a related subject lying out-
side the curriculum of a college, but included in the cur-
riculum of a given university, from which university he
hoped soon to receive an appointment. When asked if a
continuance of his service in the grade of an instructor
would be satisfactory to him while waiting for the expected
transfer, he gave his assent to the proposal, and the elec-
tion to the assistant professorship went to a well-qualified
graduate, teaching elsewhere, on the ground that his elec-
tion would give stability to the department. Of course this
reason was specially evident from the institutional point of
view. Exception, however, was at once taken by several
members of the Faculty to the view and to the action fol-
lowing, on the ground that it was a professional wrong to
withhold a merited promotion, because the instructor con-
cerned could give no assurance of continuing in the ad-
vanced position if elected to it. It was claimed that in a pos-