The one difficulty that Murdock faced, with two such excellent designers and managers, was that of finances. Robert Bacon '80, a partner in J. P. Morgan, had verbally promised Lane $50,000, but when he died in France during the First World War he left no will. His estate did not recognize the bequest and by 1920, funds were running low. The policy of printing beautiful editions of books with limited sales appeal meant that the Press was laden with equal parts honor and deficit. As is the case with all university printing plants, the Printing Office was self-supporting, and even showed a tidy profit. But not enough to balance the Press's honor. So Murdock, pleading the Cause of The Fair Name as justification for continuing the Fine Books Policy, hiked the printing fee for the University Departments ten per cent--still a good buy compared to outside houses. He reasoned that the Departments should held support the agency that was so beautifully publishing their dry "Studies."
malone Takes Over
The Press went alone until November, 1933, when ill health forced Murdock's retirement. David Pottinger again took over as acting director until January, 1936, when Dumas Malone was called in to take over, and once again Pottinger accepted the position of associate director. This situation laster until, after repeated requests by Pottinger and the successive directors, the Corporation voted to split the Press from the Printing office, and let it continue with policies set over the years of its association with the Press, except for the abolition of Murdock's ten per cent nest-egg that had, with generally lowered prices, driven the Printing Office fee to the commercial level and sometimes beyond.
In the summer of '43 both Malone and Pottinger left for private publishing houses and Roger Scaife '97, a well-known director of Little, Brown and Co., came on as director. Then, in 1947, the present director, Thomas J. Wilson III, became director. And the Press has continued to flourish,
But behind its success and behind its history lies a basic change in policy and drastic revision of the Press's and Corporation's view of a university publishing house.
When Rogers and Pottinger were de signing books that became valued for their workmanship almost more than for content, the Press was barely surviving from a financial viewpoint. The selection of books lay heavily with the arts and letters, and many of the texis were overly pedantic for even a comparatively wide readership, Many a time the Press would put out a book that was certain to be a commercial failure just because it was so beautiful, crudite and lack-insert.
The group responsible for deciding what books should be published was (and is) the Board, of Syndics affectionately, and not at all accurately, known as the Bored of Cynies. These men, professors from different departments, had to pass on the worth of manuscripts. Thus it would seem that the blame or glory of the Fine Books Policy would rest with them. But they, in turn, were appointed by the President and fellows with the advice of the Press director, and in the days of Lane and Murock, the appointments reflected the eagerness of the Press and Corporation to follow such a policy. George Foot Moore, the famed Divinity School professor, and George Layman Kittredge, equally well known professor of English, were the two glants of the Syndics, and they made sure that there was no nonsense about profit before (publishing) pleasure. Upon one occasion, when a book had achieved almost miraculous success and was selling with the fervor of a Maxwell Bodneheim epic, Moore stomped into a Syndics' meeting a little late. Physically a tremendous man with a booming voice, he slammed the table with a fist and reared, "Well, by God, it's just as I told You-we should never have accepted the book." Profits seemed almost indecent to these men. They were among the finest scholars our country has known, living in a tradition of pure learning and inspired by what they considered worthy and fine, not by what would sell.
When Malone took over in '35, the Syndics resigned as customary, to allow the new director free rain in selecting his board. Only one, Pain Joseph Sachs, was asked back. The new men, while justly famous in their fields, represented a new spirit in the University thinking about the Press. Thomas Barbour, director of the Harvard Museum, was chosen, as was Biology professor Baird Hastings and Economist Edward Mason. Malone, himself, was no professional publisher, but a sometime historian.
But the change was not a sudsen one. In fact, for several years the Syndics had been tending more toward the sciences, including government, economics and sociology. Not that they had lost interest in the arts and letters, but the new topics were on the rise, and the Syndics were great enough to bend with the wind of public interest. They insisted only that the works be scholarly. then, too, the Press was quite rapidly expanding its operations, and every year brought an increase in the number of published titles. Since the star of the arts and letters was waning in comparison to the newer "sciences," there was not a sufficient number of manuscripts to meet the dates without turning to new sources. So the trend began under Murdock.
The Syndics meet once a month to hear reports on the manuscripts that have been submitted. Before considering a book for publication, the Syndics have the opinions of at least two readers-often research fellows or graduate editors. If the book gets by their scrutiny, the syndic in whose special field the book lies reports on its merit and the discussion begins. If one member is opposed to the book, thinking that it does not measure up to the Press's standards, he challenges it, and the Syndics then examine the book quite closely. There is usually unanimity of opinion by the time they have thrashed out the merits of manuscript.
Unlike Professor Moore, the modern Syndics are delighted when a book is well received. But their first concern is still for the maintaining of high standards and the encouragement of scholarly writing in all fields. When a book they select