In the last years of his active professorship, Bridgman taught very little--a graduate half-course once every two years--and spent most of his time in the laboratories. Thus retirement has abruptly cut him off from his usual way of life.

Without a laboratory, the scientist cannot be fully satisfied in his retirement. "The professor in the humanities or social sciences is lucky," says Arthur M. Schlesinger, Sr. Francis Lee Higginson Professor of History, Emeritus, "all he needs is a pencil, paper, and a study. Losing my study would be like losing my right arm." Professor Schelsinger, unlike Bridgman, retired at the earliest possible date in order to be able to do the work he has always wanted to do.

Schlesinger retired in 1954 after 42 years of active teaching--30 years at Harvard--and thinks he had taught "long enough." He had been looking forward to the time when he could concentrate all his energy on writing.

Specifically, Schlesinger retired to write a series of books based on his undergraduate course, "Social and Intellectual History of the United States." He has devoted most of his time in retirement exclusively to this project, refusing any teaching offers and giving very few lectures. (One exception was his opening lecture of the spring term in History 169, on which he commented proudly, "of course, I just couldn't refuse my son.") He is not rushing his work because he feels he has plently of time--and he is thoroughly enjoying himself.

Schlesinger Visits Reservations

Membership in the Commission on the Rights, Liberties, and Responsibilities of the American Indian is the only time-consuming activity Professor Schlesinger has allowed himself. This commission was established by the Fund for the Republic after Congress in 1953 resolved to abolish all Indian reservations as soon as possible. The commission's job is to visit the Indians and see if they are ready to be integrated into society. This work naturally takes the professor away from Cambridge part of the time.

Schlesinger is also on the committee of five to pick a successor for President Jordan, and his special interest at the moment is the Women's Archives at Radcliffe where he is Chairman of the Advisory Board.

The Professor is also an associate at Adams House and is invited to eat meals there. But he only goes on "state occasions" since he now knows very few students in the House. This is his "chief regret" about retirement. He seess very few students now and misses the contact he used to have with them. When he was still teaching he and Mrs. Schlesinger used to hold open tea at their home on Sunday afternoons, and his students were welcome to drop in at any time. Since his retirement, most of the students he used to know have graduated, thus only a few ever visit him.

But sacrificing contact with students seems to have been worth it to him, for he is doing what he wants to do. "It's a good life," he concludes.

The question of the man who at 66 is supposed to superannuated, and isn't, thus seems to have been satisfactorily resolved in non-scientific fields. With retired scientists, the University faces a definite problem. The academic life seems to agree with men, and academicians at 66 have many good years left. While not exactly in the prime of life, they still posses fully adequate mental awareness to make an important contribution to the intellecual life of the University. To forcibly remove them from their work seems cruel indeed.

Longevity Complicates Problem

But there are two prongs to the dilemma. Most of the older professors have dominated their respective departments for decades, and the University feels that the younger man ought to have a chance, too. Thus, while retirement may be sometimes unfair to the older man, retention could certainly hamper the career of the rising young scholar.

The problem has been complicated by the fact that people live longer nowadays. In the past, it was expected that a man would not live much past 70, but today youngsters of eighty and ninety have not yet lost their mental keeness. Many emeritus professors still lead full and active lives. If they are not studying or lecturing, they are often traveling or catching up on all the reading they missed while busy teaching. Because of the high cost of scientic experiment, not all retiring professors can be fully accommodated. However, unlike the old soldier, the old scholar refuses to fade away. He retains and puts to the best possible use his intellectual curiosity and mental vigor