The Rev. W. H. P. Faunce, D.D., the new president of Brown university,
Providence, Rhode Island, is not an example of success under
difficulties. He has never experienced reverses, and he has always
improved his opportunities. His father, Thomas Faunce, was a prominent
clergyman at Worcester, Massachusetts, and had preached in Plymouth,
in that state, which is the home of many generations of the family.
I called upon Dr. Faunce, and was invited into his study. He is only
forty years of age, a courteous, broad-minded gentleman. “I was born
in Worcester,” he said, “but received a public school education at
Concord and at Lynn, and in 1876 entered Brown university. After I was
graduated, I taught for a year in mathematics, during the absence of
a professor in Europe. I always intended to become a minister, and I
entered Newton Theological Seminary. Eight months before graduation, I
preached one Sunday in the State Street Baptist church, of Springfield,
Massachusetts. It was a large church, having a membership of seven
hundred and fifty. I did not know that the pulpit was vacant, and,
peculiarly enough, chose for my text the sentence, ‘I that speak unto
you am He.’ At the close of the services, I was asked to be their
pastor, and, after I was graduated from the seminary, I was ordained.
It was in 1889 that I was asked to preach as a candidate in the Fifth
Avenue Baptist church, of New York, which I regret to leave. I refused
to be a candidate; but members continually came to Springfield to
hear me, and finally I was called. All along I have been more or less
identified with college work, and my congregation tell me they have
been expecting I would leave and devote myself to educational lines.
For a number of years, I have been one of a board of preachers at
Harvard, preaching there three weeks in the autumn, and three in the
winter, and for six weeks each summer (the summer quarter), at the
University of Chicago, where I also taught in theology. Again, I have
preached quite regularly at Cornell, Amherst, Wellesley and Brown.”
“Have other colleges asked you to become president?” “Yes; that is,
two official boards of two colleges have sounded and invited me, but
I considered that my work here was too important. Brown, however, is
my alma mater.” “You must spend much time in study,” I remarked. “I
have always kept my studies up,” replied Dr. Faunce. “I have been
abroad three times to study German, French and philosophy. I am a great
believer in constant work.” “Success? you ask. Why, success involves
the complete expression of all of one’s powers, and every one leaves a
lasting impression on the life of the world. The man who is sincere in
the expressing of himself, in whatever line it may be, becomes a factor
in the world. Genuine success is the kind that is helpful to others, as
well as to the one who is striving. Every other kind falls short of the
mark and becomes stale. How to achieve success? you ask. Show strong,
absolute whole-heartedness in whatever you undertake; throw yourself,
body, mind and soul, into whatever you do. Patiently master details.
Most of the men that I know who have failed have ignored details,—have
considered them petty and insignificant. They have not realized the
importance of small things.” “Do you think the average man appreciates
this?” I asked. “No.” Here Dr. Faunce was called away for a moment, and
I picked up a book of Browning’s poems. These lines in “Christmas Eve”
were marked:
Whom do you count the Worse man upon earth?
Be sure he knows, in his conscience, more
Of what Right is, than arrives at birth.
When he returned I asked: “Do you think that the worse individual, a
useless member of society, can elevate himself and be of consequence?”
“Most decidedly, and through work, congenial work. The happiest hours
of a man’s life should be when he is working. A man will not succeed
who is continually looking for the end of the day. Vacations are
necessary, but they are for the sake of work and success.”