On the Right

Boston, May 8—Every ten years or so, I meet with Professor Arthur Schlesinger Jr. in public debate, an experience I always find instructive, which is to say nothing of what Mr. Schlesinger must find it. This time around hostilities began early, when Mr. Schlesinger, making his way aft to the economy section of the New York-Boston flight, paused briefly to tease me for sitting, typewriter on my lap, in the first-class section. I retaliated, after we were under way, by asking the stewardess to deliver a package into which I had rolled a cigar, with the notation: “Arthur: This is my contribution to your last meal.” After we landed at Boston, Professor Schlesinger told us that now he knew what was wrong with conservatives, they smoke such lousy cigars. I replied that we were given no choice by those who bungled the Bay of Pigs.

I confronted Mr. Schlesinger, during the debate, with the resolution of the Americans for Democratic Action, which called for the impeachment of Richard Nixon. He told the crowd he knew nothing about the resolution, although he did not contest that he continues to serve as vice chairman of the ADA: and managed to make it all sound as though I had made up the resolution. Tricky Arthur. Returning to the reception hall after the debate, the professor’s captivating elderly mother turned to him and said, “Arthur, really, I do not believe that it is sensible to try to impeach President Nixon. To begin with, you would have to get all the facts absolutely straight . . .” “But Mother,” Arthur said impatiently, “I had nothing to do with it!” “Even so,” said Mrs. Schlesinger, the widow of the famous historian, lest her point be lost, “it really isn’t a good idea, Arthur.” I took pleasure, on bidding Mrs. Schlesinger goodnight, in telling her that I knew her son Tom, and that if you threw him in, you came out with an acceptable average among her two sons.

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William F. Buckley Jr.

William F. Buckley Jr. founded National Review magazine in 1955.

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William F. Buckley Jr.

Boston, May 8—Every ten years or so, I meet with Professor Arthur Schlesinger Jr. in public debate, an experience I always find instructive, which is to say nothing of what Mr. Schlesinger must find it. This time around hostilities began early, when Mr. Schlesinger, making his way aft to the economy section of the New York-Boston flight, paused briefly to tease me for sitting, typewriter on my lap, in the first-class section. I retaliated, after we were under way, by asking the stewardess to deliver a package into which I had rolled a cigar, with the notation: “Arthur: This is my contribution to your last meal.” After we landed at Boston, Professor Schlesinger told us that now he knew what was wrong with conservatives, they smoke such lousy cigars. I replied that we were given no choice by those who bungled the Bay of Pigs.

I confronted Mr. Schlesinger, during the debate, with the resolution of the Americans for Democratic Action, which called for the impeachment of Richard Nixon. He told the crowd he knew nothing about the resolution, although he did not contest that he continues to serve as vice chairman of the ADA: and managed to make it all sound as though I had made up the resolution. Tricky Arthur. Returning to the reception hall after the debate, the professor’s captivating elderly mother turned to him and said, “Arthur, really, I do not believe that it is sensible to try to impeach President Nixon. To begin with, you would have to get all the facts absolutely straight . . .” “But Mother,” Arthur said impatiently, “I had nothing to do with it!” “Even so,” said Mrs. Schlesinger, the widow of the famous historian, lest her point be lost, “it really isn’t a good idea, Arthur.” I took pleasure, on bidding Mrs. Schlesinger goodnight, in telling her that I knew her son Tom, and that if you threw him in, you came out with an acceptable average among her two sons.