Today marks the 84th anniversary of President Eliot's birthday. In characteristic fashion he is celebrating the occasion at his home in Cambridge, engaged in the usual routine of his work. Almost half of President Eliot's life has been spent as president of the University, and his entire career has been closely connected with University affairs. He was born in Boston on March 20, 1834, and after acquiring his early education at the Boston Latin School, entered Harvard when 16 years of age, receiving his A.B. in 1853 and A.M. in 1857. Since then he has received the honorary degree of LL.D. from six colleges, and both the LL.D. and D.M. from Harvard in 1909. He served as President of the University from 1869 to 1909, a period of 40 years. Time has confirmed the wisdom of his doctrines and the University today is still dominated by the influence of the president who nearly 50 years ago first instilled in the University his democratic spirit of individual effort directed to the future.

The Reverend Samuel McChord Crothers, D.D. '99, contributes the following appreciation of President Eliot's life and his service to the University.

An Appreciation of President Eliot.

BY SAMUEL McCHORD CROTHERS.

There is danger that President Eliot's originality and independence may be obscured by the very completeness of his success. To the new generation he is one of the great figures of the educational world, and his words are listened to with the respect which is given to one of established reputation.

But there is no eager youth who cares less for what is established and is more radical in his judgments than this man, who, for many fruitful years, has defied the gloomy text about the time that follows the 70th birthday. These latter years have been full of labor, but it has been healthy and happy labor.

To judge Charles William Eliot aright, you must put out of mind his titles, his honors, and his successes. These have been but happy accidents. They reflect credit on the community to which he belonged, and the times in which he lived; but they throw little light on his character. That he was elected President of Harvard College was surprising; that he made a success of his new work was more surprising. For he had not what was usually recognized as an academic mind. Like Wordsworth, he had "to create the taste by which he was appreciated."

First Impressions in 1870.

When we speak of the "ironies of history," we usually think of something bitter. Sometimes there are pleasant ironies. Oliver Wendell Holmes, in a letter written in 1870, describes the amazement of Harvard College over its new President, who was so different from its preconceived idea of what a college president should be.

"Another new sensation is our new Harvard College President. King Log has made way for King Stork . . . . I cannot help being amused at some of the scenes we have in our medical faculty; this cool young man proposing in the calmest way to turn everything topsy-turvy, taking the reins into his hands as if he were the first man that ever sat in the box.

"A grave member of the Faculty asked why, after everything had been going on so well for 80 years, now everything should be suddenly changed.

"'I can answer Dr.--'s question very easily,' said the bland, grave young man. 'There's a new President.'

"The tranquil assurance of the answer had an effect such as I hardly ever knew produced by the most eloquent sentences I ever heard uttered."

Dr. Holmes Recognized Ability.

Dr. Holmes recognized the young man's determination and capacity for the business in hand, but he adds, "I think the Corporation and Overseers will have to hold him in a little, or he will want to do too many things at once."

That was 48 years ago. That eager will has not relaxed. That calm, clear intelligence is not less insistent in its demands. There is the same impatience with things as they are and the resolve to change them in the interest of things as they ought to be. I am not sure that the octogenarian is not still open to the criticism of middle-aged persons that he "wants to do too many things at once." In any organization to which he belongs you will find him pulling at the tugs with all his might, in the tranquil assurance that there will be enough prudent persons to man the brakes.

President Eliot has dared to stand alone for that which he saw to be true and believed to be right. In this he was "hugely politic," for where almost a half-century ago he stood alone, the multitudes march today. In the meantime, he has not been standing still. His mind is not reminiscent. If you would awaken in him any eager interest, consult with him about the next step