Academic Faculty, which should be filled by promotion of one of the professors. The Dean would naturally come in close touch with the Faculty in all academic questions, and the President would be the head of the University and its representative in all questions of its broader policy. It is thought that no one man can be found who will combine in himself the qualities which two men in these two positions might require. It is the belief of your friends in the corporation that you possess in an eminent degree the qualities which a president, performing functions like those mentioned above should have, and they are anxious, before you reach a conclusion, that you should consider the question from their standpoint. I perhaps do not convey very well the idea which these men have, who have been giving the matter more thought than I. But from what Winthrop says, I think I know you and your aptitude sufficiently well to say that you would fill

the position with entire credit and without detriment to your reputation, although I do not yet say that I would advise you to take it. I have my doubts." In response Judge Taft, on January 23, 1899, wrote in part as follows:

"There are . . . insuperable objections to my accepting an election to the Presidency of Yale University. . . . While I agree that a great University needs at its head a man of affairs and of executive capacity, I cannot forget that a University is an organization for the purpose of imparting the highest and broadest education to those who seek it. Its President should, first of all, therefore, be an educator. He ought to be the real presiding officer in each of the faculties that make up the governing and teaching bodies of the University. He must have such broad culture and wide learning that he may be able to enter intelligently into the general discussions likely to arise in each faculty meeting.

The profession of the educator is as distinct from that of the lawyer or that of the minister as those two professions are distinct from each other. It is true that one of the important functions of a President is to look after and conserve the material interests of the University. He has a duty to perform in acquainting persons of wealth with the responsibility that wealth imposes and the dependence of the higher educational interests of the country upon them for support. He must represent the University to the world. The exalted position of independence and disinterestedness which is accorded to a President of a University like Yale gives him an influence and power for good in the discussion of public affairs and the guiding of public thought that can hardly be exaggerated. It is this opportunity of the President of Yale which most attracts

me.

"I venture to think, however, that in our enthusiasm over the material advancement of our University and the pride we may feel in a president who worthily represents our Alma Mater to the world and is a power in the nation that makes for righteousness, we may become unmindful of the fact that the prime object of a university is to maintain the highest educational standards and that the first duty of the head of a University is to see to it that the educational opportunities it affords are progressively higher from year to year. It makes comparatively little difference whether we have 1500 or 2500 undergraduates or 100 or 200 men in the graduate department, but it makes a great deal of difference whether the standards of scholarship and literary excellence are as high as they should be, whether the methods of study are the most approved, and whether it is really a university in the sense that the best opportunities are offered for study in every branch of human knowledge. The President should be one having the wide learning, the liberal spirit of progress, the comprehensive grasp of the whole educational field to enable him to give the initiative if it be necessary to real progress in each department and on the other hand to restrain ill-advised changes proposed by one-sided enthusiasts.

"A man like myself who has had the benefit of only the usual academic educa

tion, who has occupied himself since graduation with the practice and study of a jealous profession like the law, and whose general reading and study have been of a desultory character is necessarily lacking in the wide culture, breadth of learning and technical preparation in the science of education which are needed to discharge the duties I have attempted to describe. He would make a great mistake and would injure both the University and himself were he to assume the high obligations of the office of President.

"For these reasons, I have no hesitation in saying definitely that were the Corporation of Yale to invite me to become President I should decline the great honor."

That this was no perfunctory expression of his appreciation of the "great honor" may be inferred from the traditional loyalty to Yale which is expressed in the fact that since 1830 the Taft family has held a continuity of representation among undergraduates of the University. The brothers of Judge Taft's generation cherish with filial pride the letter of commendation given to their father, the late Hon. Alphonso Taft, attorney-general in the cabinet of General Grant, by President Theodore Dwight Woolsey and others of the faculty, after his graduation, which letter is here reproduced by permission.

II

WHEN President McKinley tendered to Judge Taft the appointment as a member of the Philippines Commission, the former wrote to his brothers Henry and Horace on January 28, 1900, as follows:

"The President said he had sent for me to induce me to accept an appointment as a member of the Philippines Commission which he expected to reappoint to visit the Islands and organize a civil government and prepare a provisional code adapted to the present circumstances. He said that he did not think that President Schurman of Cornell was going back again and in that case he wished to make me president of the Commission. He asked me how I felt about the Philippine question. I told him I was very much opposed to taking them, that I did not favor expansion, but that now that we were there we were under the most sacred

"This will make you a great deal broader judge on your return.' . . . I took a week in which to decide. The President is evidently very anxious to have me accept and if I do and opportunity arises, I have no doubt that promotion would follow. If it does not I should have to go back to the practice after the service terminates. . . . The question of course is, Am I willing, and ought I, to give up my present position for what is offered in presenti and in futuro? The opportunity to do good and help along in a critical stage in the country's history is very great. Root especially urged this view. I am still young as men go and I am not afraid to go back to the practice, though I confess that I love my present position. Perhaps it is the comfort and dignity and power without worry I like. Ought I to allow this to deter me from accepting an opportunity thrust on me to accomplish more important and more venturesome tasks with a possible greater reward?"

In October, 1901, Judge Taft had an illness in Manila the severity of which was not known in the States. He was taken to the First Reserve Hospital in Manila and at one time was so low that not only was hope abandoned, but his death was actually placarded in the hospital.

On August 31, 1900, Judge Taft, writing to his brother Charles, said:

"The Filipino people are full of music. It is their one national occupation. Every Filipino plays on some instrument, and their family meetings are nothing but little family soirees. They have no conservatory of music here. They are a people who are easily touched by comparatively small things. If, after McKinley's election, I could announce on behalf of a certain number of Americans that they would contribute one hundred thousand dollars to the founding of a Filipino con

servatory of music, I cannot exaggerate the good effect that this would have, especially if we named it the 'Rizal Conservatory.' Rizal was a man much given to music. I have no doubt that the Filipinos, many of whom are wealthy, would contribute a substantial fund, and that we might establish the beginning of an institution which would start an art dear to the hearts of these people."

This is the more significant of the writer's sympathy and tact when it is stated that, like General Grant, he has no fondness for music.

The following extract from one of his letters shows not only the spirit in which Judge Taft prosecuted his work in the Philippines but the imperturbability with which he regarded criticism.

"You may perhaps have seen Roosevelt's speech at Harvard in which he flatters Root and Wood and me. I confess that, while I value the good feeling and generous spirit he manifests toward me in saying such things, for once in my life I agree with the Evening . . . in deprecating the representation that we are sacrificing ourselves when we ought to be rejoicing on the opportunities we have for such interesting work. I am not a martyr, nor am I sacrificing anything. I count myself very fortunate to be where hard work may do some good. If the thing were put to Roosevelt in this way, I know he would agree; but he was led away by what he regards as the unjust criticism and lack of appreciation of us. No one ever did work in a public way which accomplished anything that he did. not encounter the opposition of good, conscientious men, as well as that of the politician and the scalawag; and it is useless, in my judgment, to pay much attention to such opposition, though it appears in respectable journals."

A loving-cup of golden wine,
Songs of a silver brook,
And fragrant breaths of eglantine,
Are mingled in thy look.
More fair they are than any star,
Thy topaz eyes divine-

And deep within their trysting-nook
Thy spirit blends with mine.

II

MY APRIL LADY

WHEN down the stair at morning
The sun-rays round her float,
Sweet rivulets of laughter

Are bubbling in her throat;
The gladness of her greeting
Is gold without alloy;
And in the morning sunlight
I think her name is Joy.

When in the evening twilight

The quiet book-room lies, We read old songs of sorrow, While from her hidden eyes

The tears are falling, falling,

That give her heart relief; And in the shadowy twilight, I think her name is Grief. My little April lady!

Of sunshine and of showers She weaves the old spring magic, And breaks my heart in flowers! But when her moods are ended, She nestles like a dove; Then, by the pain and rapture, I know her name is Love.

III

A LOVER'S ENVY

I ENVY every flower that blows
Beside the pathway where she goes,
And every
bird that sings to her,
And every breeze that brings to her
The fragrance of the rose.

I envy every poet's rhyme
That moves her heart at eventime,
And every tree that wears for her
Its brightest bloom, and bears for her
The fruitage of its prime.

I envy every Southern night

That paves her path with moonbeams white,
And silvers all the leaves for her,
And in their shadow weaves for her
A dream of dear delight.

I envy none whose love requires
Of her a gift, a task that tires:
I only long to live to her,
I only ask to give to her

All that her heart desires.