familiar with his character could suppose that he would be content to leave institutions so detrimental to the true interests of Princeton untouched. He made no direct attack on the system. He rarely chose destructive methods where constructive would serve his ends. In 1907 he laid before the trustees of the university proposals for the reorganization of Princeton on lines approximating to the college system at Oxford or Cambridge, with the difference, however, that the whole of the teaching would remain in the hands of the university itself. The proposed residential halls were therefore to be of the nature of hostels, men being so distributed that rich and poor, elder and younger, would be thrown together in a new and wholesome intimacy. There would be an end of the old aristocracy of wealth or seniority, a breaking-down of the barriers raised by an unhealthy, if time-honoured, tradition.

The merits of the new proposals were beyond challenge; they were, indeed, the logical outcome of the preceptorial system, and without them that admirable reform could not come to full fruition. In June 1907 twenty-four of the twentyseven trustees (two being absent and one dissentient) gave them their cordial approval. A few weeks later the scheme, thus endorsed, was made public in the university, to be greeted with opposition immediate and intense. The clubs, whose existence was directly threatened (though the hostel scheme was prompted in the first instance by recognition of its own inherent advantages), set the note of the outcry. Alumni of

every generation-once wealthy club members, now substantial financial supporters of the university-rallied to the support of menaced privilege. Warnings of the withdrawal of subscriptions rained in on the Board. The trustees quailed, then yielded, before the storm. In October they called on the President to withdraw his proposals. Dr. Wilson bowed to force majeure. He had run his first tilt against the power of the dollarand the dollar had won.

A second venture in the same quixotic crusade lay not far ahead. During Dr. Wilson's term of office the proposal to establish a graduate school at Princeton, where facilities for postgraduate work were almost non-existent, had taken definite shape. Dr. Andrew West, designated Dean of the Graduate School before the school was in actual being, had drawn up a report embodying his personal views as to its character and constitution. These had been circulated, but the matter rested in abeyance for lack of funds, till at the end of 1906 a legacy of $250,000 (under the will of a Mrs. Swann), coupled with the quite acceptable condition that the new college should be built on the campus as an integral part of the university, enabled the drafting of the plans to be put in hand in earnest. Much time was spent in deliberation and discussion, and in 1909, before building had actually been begun, the university received from a Mr. W. C. Proctor, of Cincinnati, an offer of $500,000, contingent on the raising of a like sum by subscription. That was not the only

condition attached, nor the most stringent. Practically the whole of the second half-million dollars was, in fact, quickly obtained. Unfortunately, the donor stipulated further that the college should be modelled in detail on the plans formulated by Dean West, and that it should be located, not on the chosen site, but in a part of the town remote from the existing university buildings.

An issue involving something far more fundamental than individual taste and preference was directly raised. Dr. Wilson realized immediately how vital a principle was at stake. Was the management of Princeton to rest with thosethe President, the faculty, and the trustees-to whom its destinies were committed as perpetual executors of the founders and benefactors of the university? Or was the right of interference and veto to be purchasable by any donor whose offer ran into the necessary number of thousands? The choice was between mind and money as the governing factor. That in itself would have been decisive, even if Dean West's plans and Mr. Proctor's proposed site had been acceptable to President and trustees.

And, as it happened, they were not. What the Dean had planned, and the donor approved, was an ornate and luxurious school, severed both in situation and in mental atmosphere from the rest of Princeton, where an intellectual aristocracy would form an aloof and exclusive society, intent before all things on its own prosperity. The graduate school of Dr. Wilson's ideal was to be an integral part of Princeton. The men whọ

remained, or who came from other colleges, to follow the higher studies for which provision would be made, were to have as essential a place in Princeton society as freshman and sophomore, junior and senior. Their work would be an incentive to the undergraduates in embodying an ideal of academic attainment above the level of the ordinary A.B. or B.Litt. degree, and their society would effectually stimulate the development of that intellectual companionship which the preceptorial system was designed, and successfully designed, to generate.

The President stood unwavering by a principle it would be fatal to betray. It was money or mind. "When the country is looking to us as men who prefer ideas even to money, are we going," he asked, "to withdraw and say, 'After all, we find we were mistaken: we prefer money to ideas '?" The trustees were in perplexity, for there was much division of opinion among the alumni. Their decision rested in doubt, but a committee of their number appointed to consider the situation advised against accepting the gift if with it they must accept the conditions originally attached. The offer was thereupon withdrawn. Princeton had rejected a benefaction of half a million, with the certainty of another half-million to supplement it. The decision was taken to proceed with the graduate school on the modest scale first contemplated under the old quartermillion Swann bequest. The second tilt with the dollar was to all appearance over, leaving the President this time victor of the field. A great

principle had been vindicated, and Princeton was immeasurably the richer for its sacrifice.

Never had a great contest a more ironical climax. Before the mingled clamour of approval and criticism had died away an aged Princeton alumnus, Isaac Wyman, died, leaving in his will over three million dollars, bequeathed to the Graduate College at Princeton, Dean West and another being nominated as trustees of the bequest. The Dean and his plans had triumphed. The endowment from the grave was conclusive. Simultaneously the Proctor offer was renewed-with its conditions. The trustees, always hesitant, withdrew all opposition. In June 1910 the gift was accepted. Dr. Wilson recognized defeat. The academic year ended a week later, and three months' vacation gave him time to consider his future action. External influences contributed to precipitate a decision. On September 15th the Democratic State Convention nominated Dr. Woodrow Wilson as Governor of New Jersey. The same month he resigned the Presidency of Princeton. He laid down his office under the shadow of defeat, but he left behind him a record of salutary and permanent reform such as no one of his predecessors had ever established.