rsity of Pennsylvania, the
Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Tufts, and others had
already loaned equipment and material for the impoverished
laboratories, and direct contributions to the fund came from the
University of Idaho, the Musical Clubs of Dartmouth and the
Institute of Technology; from Hobart College, in cooperation with
Wellesley alumnae, in Geneva, New York; from the Emerson College
of Oratory, the College Club of Tucson, Arizona, the Boston and
Connecticut branches of the Association of Collegiate Alumnae,
the Fitchburg Smith College Club, and the Cornell Woman's Club
of New York City. To Smith College, which had so lately raised
its million, Wellesley was also indebted for helpful suggestions
in planning the campaign.

When the great war broke out in August, 1914, wise unbelievers
shook their heads and commiserated Wellesley; but the dauntless
Chairman of the Alumnae Restoration and Endowment Committee
continued to press on with her campaign--to draw dilatory clubs
into line, to prod sluggish classes into activity, to remind
individuals of their opportunity.

The pledges for the last forty thousand dollars of the fund came
snowing in during Christmas week, and eleven o'clock of the evening
of December 31, 1914, found Miss Stimson's committee in New York
counting at top speed the sheaves of checks and pledges which had
been arriving all day. The remarkable thing about the campaign was
the great number of small amounts which came in, and the number
of alumnae--not the wealthy ones--who doubled their pledges at
the last minute. It was the one dollar and the five-dollar pledges
which really saved the day and made it possible for the college
to secure the large conditional gifts. On the morning of January 1,
1915, the amount was complete.

IV.

With 1915, Wellesley enters upon the second phase of her history,
but the early, formative years will always shine through the fire,
a memory and an inspiration. Nothing that was vital perished in
those flames. Yet already the Wellesley that looks back upon
her old self is a different Wellesley. All her repressed desires,
spiritual, intellectual, aesthetic, are suddenly set free. Her
lovers and her daughters feel the very campus kindle and quicken
beneath their feet to new responsibilities.

"The New Wellesley!"

No one knows what that shall be, but the words are vision-filled:
prophetic of an ordered beauty of architecture, a harmony of
taste,