Today’s post provides a glimpse of the major American universities as seen by the eyes of an Englishman (presumably F. W. H. was both English and a man). While the article highlights the role played by the university presidents, there are other differences noted, e.g. “all-pervading atmosphere of work” observed in the Harvard Law School and the “much greater popularity of politics and political economy”.
For fun I have appended the short-story referred to in the Economist article: “What the College Incubator Did for One Modest Lambkin.” It provides some nice examples of early 20th century American vernacular. Does anyone out there know what the “Harvard walk” looks like?
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AMERICAN IMPRESSIONS.—THE UNIVERSITIES AND THEIR PRESIDENTS.
Although my primary object in visiting America was to get some insight into the commercial and financial system, and to inform myself about the prevalent notions of commercial policy and monetary reform, it was desirable and even indispensable for the objects I had in view to see as much as possible of University men. If the average American university is less powerful than either Oxford or Cambridge as a medium for colouring society, it is perhaps for that reason a stronger element in the national life. The rather exclusive caste with its innumerable degrees that files out of Oxford and Cambridge is but faintly reproduced in the American system by Harvard and Yale, whose mannerisms are sometimes imitated by the youthful universities of the West, and often caricatured by the American humorist. No one who has read it could easily forget George Ade’s description of the grey-haired agriculturist of the Middle West who took his son to a cheap provincial university in the hope that he would “soak up all the knowledge in the market,” and qualify for an inspectorship of schools [George Ade, Breaking into Society (New York: Harper & Brothers,1904), pp. 21-30.]. When the first vacation came, the old man discovered with horror that his young scholar had only acquired the Harvard walk, a passion for athletics, and the habit of large expenditure upon dress. As a matter of fact, universities like Harvard, Yale, Colombia [sic], Cornell, the John Hopkins at Baltimore, and Jefferson’s University of Virginia, have a very high average standard of work. Diligence, as Mr Bryce puts it, is the tradition of the American colleges, partly because “in all but a few universities the vast majority of the students come from simple homes, possess scanty means, and have their way in life to make.” Even at Harvard, with all its rich endowments, its old traditions, and its association with Boston as the home of American men of letters, there is far less of the dilettantism and indifference to the practical business of life than is to be found in the extravagant sets at our fashionable colleges. But this may be partly due to the absence of the college system—a system which has its advantages as well as its defects.
When Professor Lawrence Lowell, who has just been unanimously elected president of Harvard, took me over the law school, I was immensely impressed by the all-pervading atmosphere of work. The ample libraries were filled not only with books, but with students, all engrossed in study, and each apparently convinced that he had not a moment to lose in the race after knowledge. But then, the Harvard law school is justly famous as the largest and best in the English-speaking world. The connection of law with business and of the universities with law is much more close and more real in the states than at home; the chief reason, I think, being the diversity of State legislation upon which all the corporations depend, and the consequent impossibility of carrying on the business of large concerns without constant advice from lawyers. The reliance of business men upon lawyers brings legal firms into far more intimate relations with business conditions than is the case in our own country. Moreover, as there is no distinction between barrister and solicitor, the eminent pleaders and jurists of the United States are not secluded and screened by an intermediate profession from real contact with their real client.
Another evidence of what may be called the actuality of academic life in America is the much greater popularity of politics and political economy. At Harvard, for example, Professor Lowell’s lectures on politics and Professor Taussig’s lectures on economics are regularly attended by three or four hundred students. The large universities have quite a number of economic lecturers, who often specialize on live subjects, such as railways, banking, or industrial corporations. Thus the students are constantly reminded of the various lines of business into which they can enter in order to earn a living after they have taken their degrees.
Lastly, the American university, while it resembles the Scottish or the German more than the English in many respects, differs from all European institutions in the singular importance that it attaches to the office of president. In the words of Mr Bryce, the position is one of honour and influence: “No university dignitaries in Great Britain are so well known to the public, or have their opinions quoted with so much respect, as the heads of the seven or eight leading universities in the United States.” President Eliot, of Harvard, for example, who has just resigned after a long and brilliant career, and Professor Butler, of Colombia[sic], who is still in the prime of life, are two of the most popular orators in the best sense of the word—one should perhaps say popular instructors—in the United States. Most of the presidents of universities are excellent business men, skilled in the arts of advertising their institution, and of attracting students and endowments. When they happen also to be gifted and erudite, their moral and intellectual influence over public opinion is naturally enormous. I was only when I began to realize all this that I could quite understand why the people one met in Boston and New York were often more excited about the presidential election for Harvard than about the Presidential election for the United States. It is probably not generally known that the president-elect, Professor Lowell, whose recently published work on our Constitution is already a classic, has been a successful director of large cotton mills, and is the sole manager of the Lowell Trust. A scholar and a business man with an aptitude for public speaking and liberal views of education should prove an ideal president for Harvard.
F. W. H.
Source: The Economist, January 16, 1909, pp. 105-6.
Image Source: Abbott Lawrence Lowell, photographic portrait (1904) in Harvard University Archives Photograph Collection: Portraits; The Miriam and Ira D. Wallach Division of Art, Prints and Photographs: Print Collection, The New York Public Library. Dr. Nicholas Murray Butler, the new President of Columbia University, New York.
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What the College Incubator Did for One Modest Lambkin.
from George Ade, Breaking into Society (New York: Harper & Brothers,1904), pp. 21-30.
ONE Autumn Afternoon a gray-haired Agriculturist took his youngest Olive Branch by the Hand and led him away to a Varsity. Wilbur was 18 and an Onion. He had outgrown his last year’s Tunic, and his Smalls were hardly on speaking terms with his Uppers. He had large, warty Hands, which floated idly at his sides, and his Wrists resembled extra Sets of Knuckles. When he walked, his Legs gave way at the Hinge and he Interfered. On his Head was a little Wideawake with a Buckle at the Side. Mother had bobbed his Hair and rubbed in a little Goose-Grease to make it shine. The Collar that he wore was size 13, and called the Rollo Shape. It rose to a Height of a half-inch above his Neck-Band. For a Cravat he had a Piece of watered Silk Ribbon with Butterflies on it.
Wilbur had his Money tied up in a Handkerchief, and he carried a Paper Telescope loaded down with one Complete Change and a Catalogue of the Institution showing that the Necessary Expenses were not more than $3.40 per Week.
As the Train pulled away from Pewee Junction Wilbur began to Leak. The Salt Tears trickled down through the Archipelago of Freckles. He wanted to Crawfish, but Paw bought him a Box of Crackerjack and told him that if he got an Education and improved his Opportunities some day he might be County Superintendent of Schools and get his $900 a Year just like finding it. So Wilbur spunked up and said he would try to stick it out. He got out the Catalogue and read all of the copper-riveted Rules for the Moral Guidance of Students.
The Curriculum had him scared. He saw that in the next four Years he would have to soak up practically all the Knowledge on the Market. But he was cheered to think that if he persevered and got through he would be entitled to wear an Alpaca Coat and a Lawn Tie and teach in the High-School, so he took Courage and began to notice the Scenery.
Wilbur was planted in a Boarding-House guaranteed to provide Wholesome Food and a Home Influence. Father went back after making a final Discourse on the importance of learning most everything in all of the Books.
Nine Months later they were down at the Depot to meet Wilbur. He had written several times, saying that he could not find time to come Home, as he was in pursuit of Knowledge every Minute of the Day, and if he left the Track, Knowledge might gain several Laps on him. It looked reasonable, too, for the future Superintendent of Schools had spent $400 for Books, $200 for Scientific Apparatus, and something like $60 for Chemicals to be used in the Laboratory.
When the Train suddenly checked itself, to avoid running past the Town, there came out of the Parlor Car something that looked like Fitz, on account of the Padding in the Shoulders. Just above one Ear he wore a dinky Cap about the size of a Postage Stamp. The Coat reached almost to the Hips and was buttoned below. The Trousers had enough material for a suit. They were reefed to show feverish Socks of a zigzag Pattern. The Shoes were very Bull-Doggy, and each had a wide Terrace running around it. Father held on to a Truck for Support. Never before had he seen a genuine Case of the inflammatory Rah-Rahs.
Wilbur was smoking a dizzy little Pipe from which the Smoke curled upward, losing itself in a copious Forelock that moved gently in the Breeze. Instead of a Collar, Wilbur was wearing a Turkish Towel. He had the Harvard Walk down pat. With both Hands in his Pockets, the one who had been pursuing Knowledge teetered towards the Author of his Being and said, ” How are you, Governor?”
Father was always a Lightning Calculator, and as he stood there trying to grasp and comprehend and mentally close in, as it were, on the Burlap Suit and the Coon Shirt and the sassy Pipe, something told him that Wilbur would have to Switch if he expected to be County Superintendent of Schools,
“Here are my Checks,” said Wilbur, handing over the Brasses.” Have my Trunks, my Golf Clubs, my portable Punching-Bag, the Suit-Case and Hat-Boxes sent up to the House right away. Then drive me Home by the Outside Road, because I don’t want to meet all these Yaps. They annoy me.”
“You’d better git out of that Rig mighty quick if you don’t want to be Joshed,” said his Parent. “Folks around here won’t stand for any such fool Regalia, and if you walk like a frozen-toed Hen you’ll get some Hot Shots or I miss my Calkilations.”
“Say, Popsy, I’ve been eating Raw Meat and drinking Blood at the Training-Table, and I’m on Edge,” said Wilbur, expanding his Chest until it bulged out like a Thornton Squash.” If any of these local Georgie Glues try to shoot their Pink Conversation at me I’ll toss them up into the Trees and let them hang there. I’m the Gazabe that Puts the Shot. Any one who can trim a Policeman and chuck a Hackman right back into his own Hack and drive off with him doesn’t ask for any sweeter Tapioca than one of these Gaffer Greens. The Ploughboy who is muscle- bound and full of Pastry will have a Proud Chance any time that he struts across my Pathway. In my Trunks I have eight suits a little warmer than this one and 47 pairs of passionate Hose. I’m out here to give the Cornfields a Touch of High Life. It’s about time that your Chaws had a Glimpse of the Great Outside World. Any one who gets Fussy about the Color-Combinations that I spring from Day to Day will be chopped up and served for Lunch. To begin with, I’m going to teach you and Mother to play Golf. If these Mutts come and lean over the Fence and start to get off their Colored- Weekly Jokes we’ll fan the Hill-side with them.”
“What do they teach up at your School — besides Murder?” inquired Father. ” I thought you wanted to be County Superintendent of Schools.”
“I’ve outgrown all those two-by-four Ambitions,” was the Reply. “I’m going to be on the Eleven next Fall. What more could you ask?”
That very week Wilbur organized a Ball Team that walloped Hickory Crick, Sand Ridge, and Sozzinsville. He had the whole Township with him. Every Cub at Pewee Junction began to wear a Turkish Towel for a Collar and practise the Harvard Walk.
MORAL : A Boy never blossoms into his full Possibilities until he strikes an Atmosphere of Culture.