The Age of Conant--(502 pp.)--Arthur M. Schlesinger IV--The Crimson Press ($5)

In this sensitively written and finely conceived book which treats the dawning of that period in American history known as the Harvardian Age at which time scholarly James Bryant Conant was Chief Executive, Arthur M. Schlesinger IV proves as competent a chronicler of events in the nation's history as did his great-grandfather Arthur Meier Schlesinger, author and one-time Francis Higginbotham professor of history, Harvard; and grandfather Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr., who carried off a Pulitzer prize for his book, The Age of Jackson.

As Galesworthy once pointed out, the good biographer and the good critic are almost as rare as the unicorn because of a weakness of many to forego sentimental impulses. Further, he must steel himself against the susceptibilities of ancestor worship.

Schlesinger expertly plays the role of the good biographer in this remarkable book which deals with Conant the man as well as an age which found him the dominating figure in American life. The historian proves an objective critic, his testimony gives credit to his skill as reporter and writer.

No Smoke Filled Room

In a flowing style he tells how Conant, then president of Harvard University and little known in smoke-filled rooms where men suck cigars and make Presidents, was swept from his palatial office at Cambridge, Mass., and deposited in the White House by a nation "grown weary of obvious inefficiency at Washington; a leaderless people seeking leadership who turned to a man of science in one of the country's dark hours."

American had just emerged from a great war in which her troops had been informed they were fighting for simple things--peace within our family and peace with those abroad, a safe world for peoples everywhere. But not so.

The historian writes, "War's end seemed to have decided only who was to make the peace, a wrangling between victors." In America there was wrangling, between capital and labor, Democrats and Republicans, Molotov and Byrnes, men and women, even clashes between gridmen of Harvard and Yale. As the result of "domestic bungling" the American table, as sacred as the Constitution, was affected. A meat-loving people was offered the horse. Schlesinger said this was termed the affront which caused "rebellion in the hearts of men." Kentucky threatened secession when steaks were carved from Man O'War.

One-Man Rule

The nation, as though following the dictates of Rousseau, turned the government over to a single wise man, as it were, whom they felt "would truly fulfill the wishes of the people and speak their true will."

A magazine article extolling the virtues of the Harvard executive proved the spark which set off Conant-for-President clubs over the land. Party politics were abandoned in 1948 as this little man almost overnight became a unifying tide and took office as millions sang "Blessed Be The Tide That Binds." For one of the few times in the country's history the People's Ticket was victorious. Political experts were befuddled, news editors swore off alcohol.

Succeeding chapters describe informatively and entertainingly Conant's 12 years in the White House. There are those who believe him one of the great political figures of the 20th century. This little, unbending college president and scientist was a true maker of history. He found the spirit of the country low and immediately transformed it into the likeness of his own sprightly soul. Despite his unusual success as head of the government he remained an educator first and always. One of his initial moves was the inauguration of a night-school for legislators "to save the English language from humiliation" which action caused the senior senator from Mississippi to exclaim, "Well, shet man mouf!" and label the President "a razorback Red."

Hutchins Converted

His educational program didn't stop with Congress. Through a series of "bed-side chats", radioed nationwide, Dr. Conant prescribed a revival of learning for the country. Beowulf was soon book-of-the-month.

After 12 years Conant returned to Harvard, its green yard, ivy vines, it's 10,000 men (and bicycling girls from Radcliffe), its tradition dating back four centuries. His reclining years, Schlesinger writes, were spent among his test tubes and his friends. Yale University conferred on him the degree, Doctor of Everything. And among the many admirers who spent Sunday evenings at his feet, listening to the eminent man discuss his favorite subject, General Education in a Free Society, was Robert Hutchins, of Chicago, who later became something of an educator in his own right.