"Mt. Holyoke College is the product, not of the Zeitgeist, not of any impersonal evolutionary influence, not of merely cosmic forces; but it is rather the vital personal embodiment of the thought, life, and love of a multitude of thinking, living, loving persons of whom Mary Lyon was first and chief." In this remarkable sentence of a recent Founder's Day oration, President Hopkins of Williams College summed up, as no one else has ever done, the explanation of the college at South Hadley. There is probably in all American history no other woman precisely like Mary Lyon; and certainly there is in our country to-day no other institution which possesses exactly the characteristic features of Mt. Holyoke. Further, these two truths are one.
Mary Lyon never talked much of woman's rights; she said very little, if anything, of woman's sphere. But she believed in, and loved to dwell on, the great work a woman may do in the world. And she was thoroughly convinced that to do that work well a girl must be educated. "Oh, how immensely important is the preparation of the daughters of the land to be good mothers!" she used often to say. "If they are prepared for this situation, they will have the most important preparation which they can have for any other." Repeatedly she asserted, with wisdom far in advance of that of her time, that it seemed to her much less of an evil that farmers and mechanics have scanty stores of knowledge, such as our common schools give, than that their wives, the mothers of their children, should be uneducated. With this splendid thought in her heart, she and her friends came together and laid the corner-stone of Mt. Holyoke Seminary, October 3, 1836, having secured by arduous and well-nigh heroic labours the nucleus of the fund necessary to the launching of her high enterprise. Yet, though her heart was fixed, her spirit was humble; we read that she stooped down and wrote upon the corner-stone: "The Lord hath remembered our low estate."
After another year which represented such unselfish devotion to her prospective school as may be read in the annals of no other educational institution, the seminary was opened for the reception of pupils. Often then, and later, Mary Lyon said of Mt. Holyoke, "Had I a thousand lives, I would sacrifice them all in suffering and hardship for its sake. Did I possess the greatest fortune, I could readily relinquish it all and become poor, and more than poor, if its prosperity should demand it."
From the very first, Mt. Holyoke has had in its make-up respect for household labour. It is interesting to observe that even in the beginning this was considered a great objection by many friends of the seminary. Miss Lyon, however, defended it warmly. She used to say that it was her desire, not to teach domestic duties, but rather to help girls to take, each one, a daughter's part in the household, and thus promote the happiness of the family. "All are to take part, not as a servile labour for which they are to receive a small weekly remuneration, but as a gratuitous service to the institution of which they are members, designed for its improvement and elevation. . . . An obliging disposition is of special importance in forming a lovely social and domestic character. Young ladies at school, with all the conveniences and comforts which they should have, and with all the benefits of study which they should enjoy, can have but little opportunity for self-denial. The domestic work done in the varied and mutual duties of the day furnishes many little chances for the manifestation of a generous, obliging, and self-denying spirit, the influence of which, we trust, will be felt through life. It also helps to give a sense of obligation. Domestic life is little else but a continued scene of conferring and receiving favours. And how much of happiness depends on their being conferred with the manifest evidence of a willing heart, and on their being received with suitable tokens of gratitude! These two lovely traits go hand in hand, not often to be separated. The formation of a character that can be grateful is an object of special importance in a lady's education."
That, even in Mary Lyon's time, however, there were other things at Mt. Holyoke beside study, prayer-meetings, and housework, one finds from this delicious bit of circus reminiscence supplied by Mrs. Amelia Stearns of the class of '49: "We were admitted to the show at half-price, after having been especially advised by Mis Lyon to improve this opportunity to see the elephant and other rare specimens of animated nature. She made but one restriction. We were not to stay to witness the performance, but when we should see any teacher moving toward the exit we were to follow her at once. After viewing the animals we took seats while the elephants marched around the amphitheatre. One with a howdah on his back was halted near us, and the manager called for ladies to mount and ride. Two or three misses started forward and then drew back timidly, until a young lady of the senior class, with head erect and fearless mien, walked to the front, climbed the ladder, and seated herself as if she were an Eastern princess accustomed to take her airing in this manner. There was a whispering among the juniors: 'What a bold, bad action for a missionary's daughter! How dare a senior set such an example?' Some said she would surely be suspended, - perhaps expelled. Others thought she might be let off with a public reprimand if duly penitent. It was believed that the sentiment of the seminary would certainly demand some heroic measure.
"The great beast went around with its burden, the senior descended safely and resumed her former seat, unabashed. Directly a tiger leaped from its cage and rolled over and over with its keeper in frightful play. The performance was well under way or ever we were aware, and we had seen no teachers moving. Bless their kind hearts! Was it that they in their innocence did not know when it was time to start, or were our eyes turned away from our chaperons and holden, that we should not see them? When all was over and we went out with the crowd, we spied a teacher standing near the gate, apparently watching for stragglers, but we passed by on the other side without a challenge. At suppertime all the lambs were secure in the fold, and not a wolf among them. We never heard that the audacious senior met with the slightest reproof nor lost caste for her rash exploit. Miss Lyon, wise as Solomon, knew when to keep silence and when to speak."
For the second year of Mt. Holyoke Seminary, a hundred girls were admitted, while to several hundred Miss Lyon was obliged to say, "There is no more room." Every year since, the same thing has been repeated to large numbers of girls, and this in spite of the fact that there are many college houses, where in the beginning there was only one. The trustees feel that it is quite as well that Mt. Holyoke should not grow to be too large. To-day there are seven hundred students, and to develop high Christian character in seven hundred girls is, perhaps, all that may well be undertaken by one humble-minded institution in learning.
Are you wondering why, with so many other colleges vainly bidding for students, Mt. Holyoke has to turn scores of girls away each year? It is a fair question. What is it, then, that this place of ancient and worthy name now offers the bright young girl who is deciding where she will spend the four years which are to give her an all-around education and a degree?
At its inception, of course, Mt. Holyoke cherished three ideals, - first, to give the highest and most thorough education possible; second, to combine with cultivation of the intellectual powers the no less careful cultivation of the spiritual life, basing such culture on the Bible, and teaching that all duties should seem holy, and that all things worth doing should be done thoroughly; third, to offer advantages at such a modest sum that girls of slender means need not be turned aside from seeking them by money considerations. Well, the Mt. Holyoke of to-day is dominated by the very same ideals. Two generations have witnessed, not a complete re-creation, but a gradual expansion. The old Mt. Holyoke held all the possibilities of the new. The institution which Mary Lyon founded had within it the germ of to-day's splendid twentieth-century college. Mt. Holyoke of old was able, therefore, to expand without friction, without revolution, without upheaval, into the composite Mt. Holyoke of to-day. The seminary was built upon Christian ideals and self-abnegation. The college rests on exactly the same eternal things.
Of course times have changed, and the piety of 1904 is by no means the same in its exterior aspect as the piety of 1840. But no one who has attended the morning service in the chapel has failed to understand the spirit of the place and to know it for the same spirit which Mary Lyon long ago implanted in the hearts of Mt. Holyoke girls. When, to the deep, rich tones of one of the best organs in Massachusetts, the seniors, stately and reverend in their sombre symbols of academic rank, take their seats in the centre of the chapel, with the members of the faculty at the left, and the main part of the big room given over to the undergraduates, - and the sweet and beautiful president, in a rich academic gown, bows her head in silent prayer, one feels Mt. Holyoke to be the same to-day as yesterday, despite external changes. Thrilling indeed is it when the students rise and sing, with wonderful heartiness, the "Holy, Holy, Holy" hymn. Then there follows a collect or two, and then the stirring missionary anthem, "We March, We March to Victory." Responsive reading, a Gloria, a Scripture lesson, and an extemporaneous prayer referring to the Bible message of the day, come next. The short service closes with the Lord's Prayer, in which all share. After that the seniors file slowly out to the strains of an inspiring recessional. The beauty of this service, its peace, its sweetness, its strength, fill every visitor to Mt. Holyoke with reverent delight. A wonderful thing is it to begin day after day of a college year with such an exercise, in the chapel of the noble hall named after Mary Lyon.
It was not from the stately morning service, however, but from something deliciously, almost ludicrously, different, that I gained my own first impressions of Mt. Holyoke. I had just arrived at the college, and was being shown about, when my attention was riveted by a bulletin-board covered with the most extraordinary notices: "Five cents apiece for live frogs (body three inches or more), benefit library fund." "Shirt-waists made to fit for seventy-five cents - for Carnegie offer." "Shampooing, thirty-five cents, including tar or castile soap. Others must be supplied." The meaning of these curious notices on the official bulletin-board of Porter Hall was soon explained by my guide. They had been inspired, it appeared, by the students' desire to raise the rather large sum which Mr. Carnegie had stipulated as a condition of his generous offer for a new library. Of course, with such a spirit as this to help it on, the necessary sum will be forthcoming.
First, last, and always, the college at South Hadley is hospitable. This the freshman early learns, for as soon as she steps upon the Holyoke platform the opening day of the college year, she is cordially greeted by a member of the Christian Association's reception committee, helped with her suit-case, guided down the iron stairway to the street below, and, ere her new-found friend abandons her, comfortably settled in the car for South Hadley. When the car stops before Mary Lyon Chapel, some five miles out of Holyoke city, she is again greeted by a smiling upper-class girl, under whose tutelage she registers, receives her appointment to house and room, and really begins her college life.
For the first week that life is a veritable whirl, with its wealth of new experiences, new impressions, new methods of work, new points of view. But gradually she finds her place. She has heard a great deal, of course, about the "housework" phase of life at Mt. Holyoke; possibly she has kicked against it rather vigorously. But she learns, when she comes to face the thing, that her duties are really of the lightest possible kind, and have been, so far as feasible, fitted to her individual capabilities. One student may have two tables to clear and two to lay; another may have some post-office service to perform; others have the care of the halls. But there is nothing which need occupy more than three-quarters of an hour a day at the outside. Every girl, therefore, has plenty of time at Mt. Holyoke for play, as well as for work, for sociability as well as for grind. And the slight housework makes it possible to-day, just as in Mary Lyon's time, for a hall accomodating seventy or a hundred girls to be conducted quite comfortably with very few servants, - and hence at a minimum of expense. This is why a girl can go to Mt. Holyoke for three hundred dollars a year, a sum at least one hundred dollars less than the minimum expense in any other first-class Eastern college for women.
One of the first fine facts which impresses itself upon the freshman is the realization that she is living, not in an oligarchy of faculty, - though, of course, the faculty have the final authority here, as elsewhere, - but in a democracy of students. For she is early told that the simple rules necessary for the regulation of life is such a large community are enforced by the undergraduates themselves, that the so-called students' league, whereof all students are members, has been given authority by the faculty in matters concerning chapel attendance, church-going, quiet hours, and the rule by which lights are out at ten o'clock. She discovers that the president of this body organized "to promote unity and loyalty in the college; good feeling between faculty and students; and to encourage personal responsibility" is always a senior, that its executive committee is made up from all four classes, with one additional member chosen from among the recent graduates of the college, and that, through the interaction of this committee and a committee of the faculty, students and professors find a direct means of communication. Each house has a chairman and proctors under the general league scheme, and through them and the rebukes they may be called upon to administer, when she and her fellow-classmen wax hilarious, the new girl comes to know what student government at Mt. Holyoke really means. Possibly she finds this out by a note reminding her that she has been habitually absent from chapel. She hears that after three such notes a girl may be put off the campus. She hears also that this measure has never needed to be enforced.
The Class is at Mt. Holyoke the chiefest "tie that binds." In forming the basis for athletic competitions, in presenting plays, in putting through much of the social life, and part of the literary enterprises of the college, it is a unit of great importance. It is particularly desirable, therefore, that a girl shall early come into close relations with the others who entered with her. The way in which this is often effected has been interestingly described by one Mt. Holyoke girl as follows: "Some evening in early fall, as the freshman is 'plugging' over her 'math,' she hears the sound of distant cheering; coloured lights flash across the campus. At the house next her own a crowd of girls is gathered, a class cheer rings out clear and sweet on the night air, coupled with two names lustily strung on at the end; another cheer, still another, and finally the freshman catches the sound of her own class numerals, reconizes them with a sudden and joyous sense of proprietorship, drops the 'math' books she is still holding, and dashes down the corridor to find another freshman. The two fling up a window, excitedly, and lean far out, squeezing each other's hands with an unwonted feeling of comradeship, as the merry, stumbling throng of seniors, juniors, or sophomores, out celebrating their class elections of the afternoon, hurry toward the broad veranda steps and again break into an improvised freshman cheer. Soon after, the freshman attends her class-meeting, called by the junior president, and with that her love of class is fully established. True, she may not know more than five of her classmates even by name, and may be distinctly grateful to the enterprising young woman who suggests that the candidates for class chairman stand up, that the freshmen may find out who they are; but, nevertheless, she feels already the passion for making 19-- admired in the college world. And chattering of this, she links her arm in that of a freshman she has never senn before, and hurries to make known to the campus the doings of her class."
So diverse is the life at Mt. Holyoke, that almost every girl readily finds scope somewhere for her particular ability. If she is so fortunate as to have a good voice, she is early enrolled in the vested choir, becomes the proud possessor of a cotta, and inclines to boast a bit, in her letters home, of her part in that body of one hundred and eighty voices, the largest vested choir of women in the world. If golf, tennis, rowing, driving, or hockey be her favourite sport, she finds opportunity to distinguish herself along one of these lines, and - what is better still - is given credit by reason of her activity toward the four hours of exercise required each week.
One of the earliest of the many festivals in which she shares is Mountain Day, in the fall, when the foliage is at its best and the fringed gentians gloriously decorate the green. Peculiarly appropriate is it that Mt. Holyoke College, which is named after one of the superb peaks in the Green Mountain range in western Massachusetts, should, each year, speedily pay its respects to the everlasting hills.
Tramping has ever been one of the favourite recreations at this college. The beauty of the region takes away all the monotony of just going out for exercise, for within fairly easy reach are a dozen attractive spots familiar to every Holyoke woman. Whether the Bluffs, the Larches, Titan's Pier, the Pass of Thermopylae, the Notch, the Ferry, Bitter Sweet Lane, or Mountain Pasture be selected, inspiration will result. Included in the college grounds is Lake Nonotuck, well supplied with boats, which are in constant demand. The same lake is equally popular in winter as a skating ground, the slopes about it being used for coasting and for skeeying, a much-liked Norwegian sport.
Of course there are at Mt. Holyoke, as at the other colleges, certain "set feasts," which come with each returning season. Founder's Day and Thanksgiving are especial times for receiving and entertaining guests. A very pretty custom is that by which former students come back to their Alma Mater as to the old homestead for the November day of solemn thanks. All Hallowe'en is regularly celebrated by a masked ghost party, which affords scope for whatever originality the girls possess. The dining-halls are, for this occasion, made attractive with flowers and autumn fruits, the whole effect softened by candle-light. In one hall, perhaps, ghosts of departed days eat their dinners with appetites astoundingly unghostlike. Later, Mellen's Food babies, nuns, dryads, Quakers, and Canterbury pilgrims hobnob noisily in the attic of one of the dormitories, while alcohol burns on salt to throw a weird light and to supply the proper amount of "atmosphere."
A girl possessed of dramatic ability speedily comes into her own at Mt. Holyoke. The dramatic interests of the college are mainly in the hands of the different classes, to each of which is allowed a certain number of performances a year. Thus the sophomores have one play, the juniors two, and the seniors two, annuallly. All the plays must, however, be approved, before presentation, by a standing committee of the faculty, to see that in the matter of costume, and so forth, they are all that they should be. The plays are generally acted outdoors on Prospect Hill, or in the gymnasium, where there is a good stage; and though there is little professional training, the dramas offered afford universal enjoyment to the audiences, frequently revealing, too, not a little talent on the part of the performers.
On May-day, for three years past, in the wooded amphitheatre of Prospect Hill, have been given old English plays and pastimes of no little literacy importance. The Elizabethan audience, as well as actor-folk, here appear, games of the period also contributing to the charm and colour of the occasion. A quaint spectacle, certainly, for these modern times, is presented by the procession which, on May-day morning, winds up Prospect Hill from the gymnasium. Preceding the May queen are lordly heralds, and while Robin Hood and his merry men escort the damsel fair, Little John and Fair Maid Marian follow close behind. Beruffed and powdered ladies and gallants of Queen Elizabeth's court are also here, as are morrismen, milkmaids, May-pole dancers, and many other fanciful and grotesque characters. When the procession reaches the Pepper Box, as the curious little lookout at the top of the hill is called, it halts and divides, forming into two lines, between which the May queen rides in state to the Box-steps, where she is helped by Robin Hood to dismount, and is solemnly crowned. Then follow the May-pole dances, performed by Britanny fisher maidens, to the shrill music of the hornpipe; a Rainbow Dance, or the Daisy Dance, symbolic of the season, with twelve seniors gowned in yellow to represent the middle of the flower, twenty-four in white for the petals, and twelve in green for the stem. Music for this fantastic tripping is usually furnished by the Mandolin Club. On one occasion, the quaint morality play, "Noah's Flood," was presented after the dancing, with an exact model of the old miracle stage, and with the unruly and boisterous Elizabethan audience duly in attendance. By six o'clock everybody has a good appetite for supper, served in picnic fashion on the green. Then the evening opens with Elizabethan lyrics, sung by the choir. These are, in turn, followed by another play. Sometimes this has been the Florizel and Perdita portion of "Winter's Tale," sometimes a scene or two from "Midsummer Night's Dream." This year the May celebrations were deferred until June, and the Ben Greet company secured as performers.
In accordance with the original plan which Mary Lyon's far-seeing wisdom devised, Mt. Holyoke has always been a family, as well as a school. It has a beautiful and really distinctive home atmosphere. Mary Lyon believed in the democratic ideal, and there is still absolutely no favouritism at Mt. Holyoke. The rooms are distributed by lot, so that even the poorest girls have their chance to get into the most attractive residence hall, Mary Brigham, in which the president lives. Every girl has, likewise, a perfectly equal opportunity to sit at the president's table, and meet the many distinguished people who come to Mt. Holyoke in the course of the year. Dinner at Mary Brigham is the function of the day. When the president enters, escorting the guest of honour, she finds each girl at her place, looking very fresh and attractive. All remain standing until the blessing has been pronounced. Then girls who have been appointed quietly withdraw to take their part in the domestic arrangement. The service at teh tables is excellent, the plates being changed, the courses brought on, and the meal from soup to crackers and cheese conducted with admirable precision. Meanwhile good talk, college jokes, and sparkling repartee go on, Miss Woolley from her stately chair, presented in memory of President McKinley's visit to Mt. Holyoke, gently leading the conversation or listening appreciatively to a bright story which some one down at the end has volunteered to tell. After dinner the girls frequently come in to the president's pleasant parlour for coffee and an informal chat before separating for their evening study.
A great deal might be said of the admirable courses at Mt. Holyoke. But it seems feasible to discuss here only two or three of the more remarkable departments. Under this head should certainly be included the work carried on in the Dwight Art Building, under the able direction of Miss Jewett, who came to Mt. Holyoke a few years ago straight from advanced work with Benjamin Constant, Julien, and LeFevre in Paris. The building is on th site of the one hundred years' old Dwight homestead, and, if only because of its glorious view toward Beulahland and the Mt. Tom and Mt. Holyoke ranges, should inspire those who work in it to artistic appreciation. An especially attractive course given here is that in the history of art, with practice in drawing to help the girl to an appreciation of the masters studied.
Many a girl who does not in the least know how to draw upon registering for this course comes through, as a result of careful teaching, with a decided sense of form, as well as with a serviceable knowledge of the masters and periods covered. Instead of an examination, there is, at the end of the year, an imaginary trip to the galleries of Europe, with a certain number of cities and a certain number of pictures covered. A satisfactory showing in this test implies ability to do original description, as well as such familiarity with the books read in the course of the year as enables a girl to cite a characteristic quotation from the critics. Thus the art work at Mt. Holyoke is all related to history and to life in a fashion at once fine and inspiring.
Similarly, a debating society, more or less connected with an American history course, really discusses current politics. What is more, a regular political campaign is carried on at Mt. Holyoke every four years! This custom was instituted at the time of Lincoln's election, and ever since it has excited much outside interest. The college represents the nation, and each campus-house a State. Party organization is modelled directly on political lines; the national Republican and national Democratic committees order the campaign; State conventions, regularly called, elect delegates to the national. Armed with badges and credentials, the delegates, often escorted by enthusiastic constituents, present themselves at these conventions held in the gymnasium, which is hung with flags and bunting for the occasion. The speeches then made are perfectly serious, and reflect a remarkable familiarity on the students' part with political figures and party protestations. The last time the mock-convention was held, the New York delegation was especially prominent, each of the ten girls which made it up having the words New York arranged diagonally across their breasts. When the platform as adopted at the regular Republican convention was read, all listened patiently, duly applauding sound money, and loyally hissing democracy and free silver. Then this declaration with all its "planks" was promptly accepted; and, as the ten o'clock bell had sounded, the delegates scampered home to bed.
Next day a ratification parade was enjoyed, the village bass drum, five transparencies, and fifty torch-bearers being in line. The captains of the evening wore red, white, and blue uniforms, while the other girls, who carried Japanese lanterns swinging on sticks, were in sailor suits. Stump speeches were made at intervals and red lemonade and peanut balls were served between the acts. The voting itself was done regularly later, ballots being printed, booths set up in Assembly Hall, and the specified hours observed.
At Mt. Holyoke, as at Smith, the biggest event of each year is the "junior prom," the last function of the Washington's Birthday season, to which the juniors invite the senior class. The gymnasium, transformed for the night, by the decorator's art, into a hall of unusual and delicate beauty, is thronged by the two classes and their friends. But forlorn, indeed, as one may see from this "Junior's Lament," in a recent Llamarada, is the girl who lacks a man guest on this occasion:
"My gown is spread out in all its glory,
Just a frou-frou of ribbons and lace;
I've the newest of gloves and of slippers,
Yet there's nothing but woe on my face.
There's no joy to be found in my toilet,
Though my hair has its prettiest curl,
For to-night is the night of the Junior Prom,
And I am a manless girl.
"Through the first and last proms and the supper
I must sit in my sadness alone,
Ah, men are uncertain mortals,
And mine has a heart of stone.
He 'regrets,' and has sent me roses
And a dear little pin of pearl;
But what do I care for such trifles
When I am a manless girl?
"I'd rather be called on in Ethics,
Or make up my cuts in the gym,
Or be flunked in my major subject
And sat on by faculty grim;
'Twere better to struggle with daily themes,
Though they set my poor brain in a whirl,
Than at the event of the season
To appear as a manless girl."
But of course it is in Commencement Week that gaiety at Mt. Holyoke reaches its climax. Two features of this only will be described. But these, because peculiar to the college, are distinctly interesting. The first is the grove exercise on Monday morning, when the seniors, all in white, bearing ropes of laurel and bunches of forget-me-nots, make their way through the stately trees from Safford Hall to the quiet grave of the founder of Mt. Holyoke. With tribute of song and flowers, they place their wreaths upon the simple white monument which reads on one side:
"The founder of Mt. Holyoke Seminary, and for twelve years its principal; a teacher for thirty-five years, and of more than three thousand pupils. Born, February 28th, 1797. Died, March 5th, 1849." And on the other side: "There is nothing in the universe that I fear, but that I shall not know all my duty or shall fail to do it."
The second annual feature is the step exercise. In the late afternoon before Commencement Day, the seniors gather upon the steps of Williston Hall, revered by college custom as their peculiar property, and there, in the presence of friends and undergraduates, made known their last will, duly attested and signed; sing again familiar college songs, and finally, at the last verse of the senior step-song, remove the academic cap, the symbol of their seniority, and slowly and reluctantly resign the steps to the juniors. To the junior president the senior president, as she passes, gives cap and gown, receiving, in return, an armful of her own class flowers.
Yet the pangs of the beginning of the end have really been experienced some time before in senior Mountain Day. For more than thirty years each class has held its farewell festivity at the Prospect House on top of the mountain from which the college takes its name. Thither on an afternoon early in senior vacation, barges carry the whole class with its baggage. And then for a day and a night a good time is enjoyed. Toasts follow each meal, and dancing and "stunts" (the latter comprising selections from all the famous enterprises both of the class and of its individual members) occupy the evening, until the hour comes for the midnight class-meeting with its rapid review of college years. Next morning the typical Mt. Holyoke girl is up to see the sun rise. And it is the thought of this, her last glorious experience upon the mountain, that the senior carries off with her as the most precious of her college memories.