THE TUFTONIAN.

VOL. XXVII.

OCTOBER, 1901.

No. 1

WILLIAM M'KINLEY.

It is the most impressive day in the history of our country. More nearly than ever before we are "of one heart and one mind." And this unity of spirit, this bond of peace, is plainly now, as we do not always see it must be, only through what is deepest and best in our nature.

Our universal tribute is to the man, whose manliness has been unchanged by conditions that made him conspicuous not merely before his countrymen but before the world. A man whose life, in the widest range of condition and service, was simple, consistent, sincere. No man's life was ever more fully revealed, or showed more honorably in the full revelation. No life more perfectly fulfilled the duties of those relations which bind us in homes, in neighborhoods, in wider communities. His life was sound and pure in all that gives stability and honor to states.

It is a day of profound thankfulness that our great country is united in giving honor to manly worth. No mere soldier, no mere ruler could have won this heartfelt, tender regard. And it is a most fortunate time in our national development that nothing stands in the way of this demonstration of respect and affection. When Lincoln died in office we were still rent in twain by civil war. When Garfield died, partisan feeling was

[This address was delivered by Dr. Shipman at the memorial service held in Goddard Chapel, September 19, 1901, in honor of the late President McKinley.]

threatening the public safely. Today we are one country, a united people; we have no apprehensions about the succession of men or measures. This unity and security we owe, in his full degree, to the president whom we now honor at the close of his long period of public service.

Shall we say anything, at such a time, of the manner of his taking off? Only that its pathos touches us most deeply and should bring forth what is best in our hearts. Who can compare the life of a man, a nation, a world, a universe! This man, when he saw the end of earth was near, could say, as in vision of eternal truth, "It is God's way." The crowning utterances of a Christian life. According to the measure of our own faith, may we be able to speak his words.

THE ENCHANTED DOOR.

Strange fellows--out of Heaven. Know ye not
The door of Paradise?

They who remembered-they alone have sought
The way by which it lies-

Can enter here.

The good Lord Master bids thee seek thy place;
Thou hast no fear,

If kept ye laws 'twere writ and saw His face.
Out and upon the stars the lone soul cries

Remembering not nor entering Paradise.

R. M., '02.

MR. WHITTEMORE'S SPEECH.

Tufts Night 1901.

There is a story told of St. John and St. James, which for a long time has appealed to me. They were youths together, 'and came up to our Lord with their mother asking a favor 'Grant," she said, "that these, my two sons, sit one on Thy right and the other on Thy left, in Thy kingdom." At once our Lord who knew that the youth were really asking for themselves, turned to them and said, "Ye know not what ye ask,” “Are ye able?"

Perhaps more strongly than at any other time, this story comes to me at the beginning of a college term as I think of the multitudes of young men, coming up to college every where with strong high hopes and fresh expectations, asking for one thing or another and all asking for a high place. One youth comes up and asks the college to give him wealth, another to give him position, another to give him power, another to give him knowledge. And the college, wise with the lives of her children, looks deep into their eyes and says, "You know not what you ask." Are you able? You want wealth, are you able to live within your college allowance, however small? You want power. Are you able to conquer yourself? You want knowledge. Are you able to be humble?

It is so natural for a youth, strong and splendid like St John, filled with the enthusiasm of an opening life thus to ask, not selfishly, but because the high place seems the only place high enough to satisfy his awakening soul.

But the experiences of life show us that he is grasping life at the wrong end. He is asking for life's fulfilment, its com. pleteness, its issue, its reward, without its effort, without its reaches, without its sacrifices, without its overcomings of the world. So the college years begin, so they pass, and often at the end, the lesson of life has not been learned, and where he looks for "crowns to fall, he finds the tugs to come, that's all."

Here wide before you are opening the possibilities of a new [This extract from the speech made in Goddard Gymnasium, Tufts Night, Sept. 23 1901, has been written out from a short hand report and from Mr. Whittemore's own notes.] R. B. C.

life. Measured by the largest college, Tufts College is not in. significant, yet the civilizing power of a college is ever less in the multitude of its material riches, than in the presence of elevated spirit, reaching it through situation, through associa tion and through devotion to truth of the imagination. Others will speak to you of our facilities. I must speak to you of the place. Shall it be nothing to you this place that heard the distant guns of Bunker Hill and caught the reflection of the clouds, that at night "broke out in red dismay" above the burning homes of Charlestown. Look in early December from your window out onto the unbroken tracks of morning snow and see in your imagination soldiers of the defeated Burgoyne plodding to our summit and listen to the sound of their axes as our splen. did hickory falls for their winter camp fires. Again, listen some still, cool, October afternoon and again in imagination, you may hear the call of the hunting horns, as circling round the hill in pink coat, come Col. Royal and Sir William Temple with their stud-grooms and barking packs, giving chase across the meadows toward Lexington. Once again it is the night of the 18th of April 1775, a lad lies sleeping lightly in his father's ample house, yonder on our hill-slope. Far out of the distance of his dreams comes a voice. Nearer, and nearer the night winds bear it until through hisopen window, from across the fields, there from the King's highway, burst the cries of Paul Revere waking Medford, "To arms! To arms!"

Here, too, waiting you are the purple springs and the golden autumns and the winters with the world stretching away in whites and grays. The quickening dawns and meditative. twilights and the nights! In the daytime this world seems to be the limit of our desires and aspirations, but at night walk on the crown of the hill; slipping away into darkness beneath our feet, the world leaves us among the stars, and out of the quivering vastnesses of space comes a power that is not man's power, to lead the spirit beyond the boundaries of earth.

At such a time of national calamity, we think of the men of our future, Where if not amid such aspirations, on a hilltop of New England, are the principles of the Republic to be preserved? Our country may succumb to foreign influence and lose its independence. It may become a vast empire stretching