Tulane University of Louisiana. COMMENCEMENT ADDRESS BY President WM. PRESTON JOHNSTON, LL. D. JUNE 30, 1898. Tulane University of Louisiana. COMMENCEMENT ADDRESS BY President WM. PRESTON JOHNSTON, LL. D. JUNE 30, 1898. PRESS OF Walle k Company NEW ORLEANS Commencement Address BY President Wm. Preston Johnston, LL. D. JUNE 30, 1898. COMMENCEMENT Day is an immemorial custom among American Colleges and Universities. It is said that it owes its title to the fact that then the youth leaves boyhood behind him and commences the life of a man. But human life is always beginning—a being and a becoming—and each day is a commencement for a new and higher existence, if we will only aspire to and strive for it. However this may be, Commencement is everywhere a time when the friends of an institution come together to note its progress, and by their presence to encourage the young aspirants in their high career. And thus it becomes my duty to-day, as the chief execu- tive officer of this institution, to give a brief statement of the work of the past year. In doing so I am happy to say that it affords every ground for encouragement in our future progress. When last summer we grasped hands in parting we had every reason to believe that the institution would open as usual and with a large increase in its numbers. We knew 4 that its reputation as an institution of a very high order in its instruction, methods, moral elevation and rapid growth was reaching ouf to new and unexpected quarters. But you well remember the paralysis that struck New Orleans in September, when every dpor was barred against her. Surely then it seemed that this year’s work was destined to failure, and that we might come out at its end crippled and set back in the great race of educational achievement. We had to lose two months of our session, October and November; but we opened with a full attendance; and by extra work, the ignoring of holidays and the zealous co-operation of professors and stu- dents, we believe that we are to-day at the close of one of the most successful sessions since our organization. In two de- partments of the University there was a slight, but not dis- couraging, decrease in the number of students, as was expected. But in the Law Department and in our Academic Colleges there has been an actual increase in numbers and a very marked improvement in tone and scholarly attainment. This has been a source of profound congratulation among the friends of Tulane University, and is of good omen for the future. Moreover, our graduates who have gone elsewhere to pursue special lines of study win fresh laurels in new fields, and write, or bring back word, that our endorsement and de- grees are recognized everywhere as a sure proof of attainment. We have, indeed, much reason for congratulation and our satisfaction would be unalloyed but for two misfortunes. One is the loss of our well-beloved Professor Hurt, upon whom fell suddenly the mortal stroke in the midst of his duties and usefulness. He was a gentleman who was perhaps better known to the general public than any other professor, through 5 liis long connection with Tulane High School as its principal and his strong social instincts. He was eminently genial in manner, sympathetic in feeling, and with a vivid intellectuality that made him welcome in every company. As a classical scholar, he left few equals, if any, in the South; but, while devoted to his work, he cared little for personal distinction. His memory will be long cherished in this University. The other cloud upon our horizon is the war with Spain. While most of our students are of an age at which it is proper to hold in check the military instinct, some of the older and best trained of our young men had before the outbreak of the war allied themselves with existing military or naval organi- zations for local defense. Though under no obligation to volunteer for extra territorial service, they have felt it to be a duty to stand in with their comrades wherever their lot was cast. We would not have them hold back. I remember General John S. Marmaduke told me that at the outbreak of Sectional War, his father, Governor Marmaduke, who was a Union man, urged him to stay out of the conflict. He replied, “ Father, I am a professional, educated soldier. I believe the South is right, and my honor demands that I should fight for that cause. ’ ’ The old patriot responded promptly and sorrow - fully, “My son, if honor calls you, follow honor every time.” And so we say to these young men, who are among our noblest and best, “Great as is the sacrifice, follow honor every time.” Fortunately, there was nothing in their long line of studies to debar those who were Seniors from their diplomas and degrees, which will be conferred to-day. One, as you know, after mounting seven rungs of our ladder in as many years from the lowest class in the old High School to this 6 Commencement, and winning honors at every step, leaves us with newly plucked laurels as victor in the Inter collegiate Oratorical Contest at Oxford, Mississippi. God bless and care for them all. You have heard all around for the last two years the cry of business depression and the arrest of enterprise. Of course, we like others have suffered from causes that touched every interest. But while we could not make great strides or any large expansion in our efforts, we have not stood still. It is a curious phenomenon of New Orleans life—and death—that no one here, whether millionaire, or modest giver, feels called on to help on the great cause of education with donation or devise, by building up this University. In the North, both Hast and West, a rich man does not feel that he has done his duty to society, or the people among whom he has lived and prospered, unless he contributes generously, living as well as dying, to some great University that is shedding its benign and civilizing influence over the land. Millions are poured annu- ally into the treasuries of Harvard and Yale. At Columbia, with its $20,000,000 of endowments, $2,000,000 have been lately given for library purposes alone, although it already possessed a noble library. You all know about the gift of Leland Stanford, some $15,000,000, it is said; and that of Mr. Rockefeller of some $8,000,000 or more to Chicago University. And these are but a few of those who fed the stream of bene- ficence. One thing very noteworthy is the clear perception of these great business men that it is in the concentration of wealth and power in a great University, that the most good can be done. I do not say all, but the most good. If you scatter your benefactions widely enough they fall like a faint 7 drizzle on the parched earth. But gathered into a proper aqueduct of irrigation like a great University, they can be turned in fertilizing streams where most needed. Mr. Edgar H. Farrar showed some years ago how more than $2,000,000 had been given by this State for education, but that it was scattered so widely that all trace of it had disappeared. Mr. Tulane told me that he had given about $15,000 a year from the close of the war up to the date of his first donation here for the education of individuals; and he added mournfully, “it has done no good.” He then gave his endowment here, and I leave it for others rather than myself to say what good it has done. Now, the strange thing to which I wish to call your attention is the singular indifference of our rich men to the growth and development of this University. Is there one among them who will say it is not a powerful agency for good to our people? If so, I point him to our alumni. I point him to the young men who have gone out from these halls, stamped with our brand, (to use a phrase which cannot be misunderstood), and ask him where he will find a better record for the same number of graduates of any institution in all this broad land. We have been giving degrees scarcely more than ten years, and I ask you to look at the pulpit, the bar, the medical profession, the teachers, the engineers, the business men, the gallant volunteers of this state and city, and consider who stand higher than the alumni of Tulane. “By their fruits ye shall know them.” That is the test. Perhaps no more striking illustration could be found of the growth of Tulane University and its increased hold upon our community and especially upon its alumni than the 8 spontaneous organization during the present year of a new and reconstructed Alumni Association including graduates of all its departments. The very names of its members constitute a tower of strength, and the enthusiasm evinced betokens the heartiest co-operation in all the legitimate work of the University. But it is not only in this direct and visible way that this University must be judged. It is not only those who have won its honors by arduous work through consecutive years who have benefitted by its presence. As one among many benefactions to our j>eople we can show five thousand pupils who have received free instruction in drawing, more than half of whom have acquired a skill that fitted them for increased usefulness in life as teachers, draughtsman, archi- tects, designers and as toilers in other industries. Such work makes little noise in the great world, but it enters into nearly every respectable home in this city in one form or another. It was seed sown for a bountiful harvest. When Tulane University was organized, there were dormant in this city intellectual and moral energies by the score that waited an awakening. Culture was here, taste was here, talent was here, genius was here; but they all shrank back from declaring themselves lest they should stir the ribald sarcasm of a rampant Bohemianism. What was needed was a nucleus that did not fear ignorant ridicule, that could afford to confront and scorn it, and that would stand like a great rock in the desert for the dignity of scholar- ship and literature and public morality, a rallying point around which all the higher spiritual influences could set up their standards and feel their touch with the world’s best 9 thought and effort. Such influences are present to-day in this city; they abound here, and they are the readiest to admit their indebtedness to this institution for sympathy, encouragement, and in their first struggling efforts, the ma- terial aid needed for their further and full evolution. And it is to this that we may fairly claim has been due, in large measure, that wonderful enlargement and elevation of scope among our best women, as well as among men, that puts this city in the front rank in a recognition of her divinest mission. But to be more specific as to what has been accomplished during the current session, I will mention a few things. Two years ago we established classes in Sugar Chemistry. The effort was tentative. If the people wanted them, they could have them. If not, they could be dropped. We were suffi- ciently encouraged to open, during the past year, a Sugar School with solid instruction in General Chemistry, and such full aud complete teaching in Mechanical Engineering as will fit its graduate to take charge of the largest Sugar House and render services to its owner worth ten times his salary. Here- after, if Europe or the East, in any of their institutions,'can fit a young man better for work in this branch, we will be glad to learn from him and them and to admit their superiority. We have established also for the next session an Art De- partment, by which we hope to aid those struggling students who with an eye single to their professions, look forward to a career in art, architecture, design, coloring and other branches of the Fine and Industrial Arts. But this you will find with, ampler details in our catalogue. One memorable act of the present year has set a final seal, let us hope, to the place and position of Tulane University as 10 a great University, and not a High School. It was to found “a great University” that Paul Tulane gave his endowment. It was for this that all the authorities of the University have planned and toiled for fourteen years. It was in view of this that the Supreme Court, in interpreting the act creating Tulane University, said, ” We felicitate ourselves that the way to this consummation (the tax exemption) has l>een timely cut by the Legislature, so that the stream of Paul Tulane’s bounty shall flow’ on undiminished, w hile the children of our State through continuing generations shall rise and call him blessed.” And now the Convention, lately adjourned, has by its solemn enactment ratified all preceding legislation and con- stitutional endorsement to this end, and clinches the nail that was securely driven years ago. Tulane University is again fully recognized as a state institution, even though, instead of drawing on public revenues, it supplies their deficiencies. Hereafter, only those who cannot, or will not, learn the difference between a University and a Kindergarten will growl because we do not give them elementary instruction instead of fitting our young men to take the first and best places in the race of life. To men w ho know’ what the actual scope and aim of a University is, the ignorant criticism levelled at it is a matter of profound astonishment. The University is often denounced because it does not do the work of the High School or even the Primary School. It might as well be asked to perform the duties of the army and navy. Both are useful, all indeed, are necessary; but the agencies organized by society has each its own purpose and function. And for the University to 11 attempt all, or any, of them would convert serious, valuable work into mere ope)a bouffe. No, the University has its own sphere, well known to the best informed classes in the com- munity, and in that it will abide. We know what we are doing, and that we are doing it well; and if the public does not yet see this fully, it is because higher education is com- paratively new in Louisiana. But in time the people will come to our support, as they do now in Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, New Haven, and Chicago, where their great and flourishing universities are the proudest boast of their civic life. There is one matter which I have time and again ex- plained, but in regard to which insinuations are still whispered in out of the way corners. It is that the University is “a rich man’s school.” That cat has nine lives and I have killed it at least eight times. I hope this will be its Nirvana. The assertion is false on its face. If there is a pure democracy on earth it is in a University—and this University. Who are the great men, the leaders, in a college? Not the rich assuredly. It may be true, as is sometimes asserted, that, in the wealthy Universities of the East, where the sons of many millionaires are congregated, they make a society of their own and exert an un- due influence. Such assuredly is not the case here, nor else- where in the South, so far as I know. The young men who excel in scholarship, oratory, athletics, and the God-given graces of personal leadership are those on whom all look with the most favor, and who give tone to the University. We have no “jays” here, and no snobs. A University is, indeed, in the nature of things, “thepoo)- boy’s school.” In the first place, it grants, even in those 12 institutions that exact the highest fees, benefits that cost from four to five times as much as the tuition paid by the student. Very few students, except the richest, could afford to pay tuition that would reimburse the Alma Mater for its outlay. Indeed, it is for this purpose that the endowment is given— to make good such deficiency. No private school could equip itself with proper teachers and appliances for competition with a University, and expect to get its money back. Let us sup- pose a case in this city. A poor l>oy may get a good primary education in the primary schools, and a good high school education in the High School, and there he finds that he stands abreast, or in front of, his wealthy neighbor. He feels the throes and aspirations of genius throbbing and striving for growth and expression. If there were no University in this city, he might look with longing eyes to his dream of future greatness, but, as a rule he would have to turn sorrow- fully to the tasks of business life. On the other hand, the lad of inferior talents, but with a prosperous father, can pack his trunk and go to some distant and famous University. Who, then, would be the loser if this University were blotted out. or cramped in its legitimate work; the rich boy, who can go where he pleases, or the poor boy who can go nowhere else? And here let me say, it is not a question of the poor boy only, but of all with whom money is not abundant. The cost of an education in one of the great Eastern Universities is double or treble that of an education in Tulane University. The youth who spends here $400 or $500 a year, sj)ends there, from $1,000 to $1,500 a year. If the superiority of the teach- ing. or any other strong and reasonable preference, warrants the parent in this expenditure he is perfectly right to make it. 13 and of this he is the proper person to judge. I believe, however, that he will not find this the case, except in certain specialties and lines in which we are always happy to concede their full due to more favored institutions. But is it, after all, the highest policy to send a boy away from his home to a distant section, unknown influences and alien habits of thought, just at the most critical period of his life? If parents, animated by all the solicitude of parental love, find it hard to guide or govern a youth of spirit, how can they expect strangers to do better for him? Of course, there are cases where it is necessary and best, but generally it is merely an attempt to shift the responsibility from their own shoulders to a distant mythical influence as shadowy as the modern Mahatma. You send the young man where he is separated from those with whom his lot in life is to be cast; the continuity of association, friendships, social and civic interests are severed; and he returns, after some years of ab- sence, a stranger in his own land to pick up the broken threads of fraternity and local interest as best he can. All these count in the battle of life, but they are disregarded when you send a youth to a distant institution. In the formative period of life there is no place for a young man like home. In my opinion, to blot out a University from the scheme of civilization in a city like this, is to leave a great gap. How often are we to be told that it is mind, not matter, that wins. It is not the big guns, but the men behind them, that gain victories. Well—here, we arm and equip such men with something stronger than dynamite. Now, how is this accomplished? By education. And what is the education that effects such tremendous results? Let us see. 14 Our fellow citizens behold here as the visible presentment of Tulane University ample grounds, and a group of handsome buildings, filled with extensive apparatus and fitted for the use of a numerous and learned faculty and a large body of superior young men engaged in study. On looking further into the organization of what they know to be Tulane Univer- sity, they will find a number of our best citizens giving their time and attention in gratuitous and disinterested efforts for its proper administration. All this constitutes an elaborate and expensive machinery and unless it is productive of adequate results is a great waste of moral and material energy. What is thus said of Tulane University is true of some 500 other universities and colleges of high or low degree in this country. The essential inquiry is what is all this for; what is the object and aim of this great organization? If we begin our answer by explaining the Medical Department, we are promptly met with the reply, “Oh, yes, we know al>out that.” The Medical Department has been here nearly three quarters of a century. We must have doctors and pharmacists, and we know the advantages the students have in our great Charity Hospital.” And the Law Department—“That too, we under- stand. Its graduates are the flower of our bar; it is the nursery of our jurists and statesmen. We are aware also of the great benefit it must be to our women to have Newcomb College where they can get a solid and systematic education and a training in the Graphic Arts. But why are a couple of hundred young men kept here in studying branches that we are told cannot be of any possible use to them in their after lives?” If the charge were true, there would !>e no answer, but it is not. And it would be easy to reply for ourselves and the 15 other colleges, in a light and airy way, by a general and rather vague rejoinder that our students are here to get an education. But that is not a fair or full answer, unless we know what an education is, and what the education is they get here. And now we must speak for ourselves, and let others speak for themselves, agreeing or disagreeing with us, as they think fit. We do not stand upon the defensive, but we can show what we have done and are doing. In the first place we must put in a general and special denial as to the uselessness of the studies in the University. Those who allege it know not whereof they speak. It is not a case of difference in point of view. They have no point of view. It is usually a case of color-blindness. Then again we frequently find people with crude, distorted and fragmen- tary views of life and education, passing judgment upon ques- tions that require experience, technical and professional preparation and knowledge, and a high order of intellectual ability. One object of education is to teach a man how to get a living; another is to teach him how to live. Of this latter object they take no account. The activities of human life, including self-preservation, a supply of necessaries and even luxuries, care of children, citizenship, the refinements of society, broadly marked but inextricably interwoven, are all within the purview of a complete education. But its highest ideal is in a full preparation for a right rule of conduct under all circumstances. The acquisition of knowledge and the discipline of thought and action are both required to give this preparation. Each man to his calling. The people who devote their lives to the theory and practice of education have a right to 16 claim that they are the best fitted to know what it is and what it ought to be. And these are the teachers. And this brings to mind the recollection that all the im- provements in education, in its aims, scope and methods, have come from within and not from without. Teachers have sounded the note of reform; the world at large has merely kept step to it, while the sciolists shout back its echoes to the inspired voices of the oracle. Teachers are continually ad- vised to do something, or to adopt some method or idea, that is an old story with them. Being a docile sort of people, they generally acquiesce in the platitudes of any wiseacre; or, even when it is plainly a false note, they merely dissent mildly. Still the common sense of the world is agreed that men who give their w'hole time to a matter know more about it than those who skim it or touch it only once in a while. Hence we claim that teachers are entitled to be heard al>out education. What are we here for? ”, asked a noted politician at a famous political Convention. To him the sj>oils of office were the object of life. But the question may be asked in a better spirit by any great organization. W’hen we see, as I have said, buildings, faculty, students, and money exjienditure, the student has a right to ask, “ What are we here for?”. “To get the best education |>ossible,” is a right and proj>er enough answer. But what is such an education? There are many answers; but they all mean, or ought to mean, al>out the same thing. It is a harmonious and equable evolution and developement of mind, soul and body, or rather of that organic totality that we call man. For these constitute one organism, and although we may separate them in language we cannot separate them in fact. ‘‘Whatever” says Mr. John 17 'Stuart Mill, “helps to shape the human being, to make the individual what he is, or hinder him from being what he is not, is part of the education.” And again, “The only indis- pensible part of the process—the mental act by which knowledge is acquired—is the pupil’s not the teacher’s; and indeed, that the teacher cannot, if he would, perform for the pupil.” James Mill says, “The end of education is to render the individual as much as possible an instrument of happi- ness, first to himself and next to other beings.” Fullness of knowledge, purity and elevation of sentiment and health of body will come as near securing this happiness as all other influences combined. Such an education begins in the cradle and ends in the coffin. But there are all sorts of teachers, promoting or thwarting this education, besides schoolmasters and professors. The first lessons are learned at the breast of the mother; truest, tenderest, most constant of teachers. Brothers, sisters and playmates are an incoherent, but potent, faculty. The hoodlum shouting his ribald oaths and drunken obscenity—advocatus diaboli—professor of hellishness—delivers his lectures on our street corners to gaping childhood, when he ought to be chained in his own proper laboratory with barred windows. Illustrated posters on our bill-boards inform our youth of the attractions of disreputable theatrical companies, or the terms of the next slugging match. The newspapers fill and thrill him with all sorts of pernicious fact and improbable fiction, as well as the real movements in the clock-work of the world. He gets it as it comes, good and bad. And then, if he is a work-laddie, and Sunday’s rest is not taken from him by the saloon keepers, he may, with some kindred spirit, find teachers in the liveoaks 18 of our parks or in watching the swirl of our great river. The* breeze that fans his brow, the glint of the sunshine on the long grass, the play of leaf and bough with their shadows, are kindly monitors to a tired soul. The market, the shop, the exchange are all school-rooms. And in all this, how small a part does the schoolmaster, or the college professor, play. There is a traditional fiction that the teacher stands in loco parentis—in the place of the parent—to a boy. Teacher, fatherr and boy alike must smile at this statement. There is the very faintest shadow of parental authority delegated to a teacher*, and but little of filial reverence accorded him by the student.. The lines of his authority are very narrowly drawn in the most personal of schools, but naturally and necessarily so in colleges and universities where the student passes daily under the tuition of several men, specialists, and from term to term exchanges his preceptors with his studies. This is not alto- gether a good thing; but it cannot be helped. The student loses the benefit of personal supervision and much of that salutary influence that one strong man’s constant care would give. But, on the other hand, he gains much. He receives the impress of many strong men. He is thrown upon himself, upon the habit of independent judgment and freedom of thought which may, indeed, lead him into many intellectual tangles and moral misjudgements, but will also accustom him to find his way out of them. For ages it has been the struggle of the enthusiastic mentor to mould the mind of the novice so as to fill out his own ideal. The analogy of the potter with his wheel modeling the plastic- clay into a beautiful image is a favorite figure of speech. Such images are godless idols. People try the process with their owm 19 children. Yet it is a false and futile plan. For if they could succeed in making the young mind in their own image, it would be the worst job possible. The Japanese gardener with his dwarfed trees is a better simile for such a master and the poor, trimmed, cramped, repressed nature of the thoroughly managed child. What it needs is growth, free growth, self- development, under a guiding hand. Still it is hard to convince many parents that the chief duty of the teacher is not to pump useless facts into empty heads. Coaching a boy is their idea of education, and it is too much the tendency of even good teachers in trying to help a weak student. But our chief business really is to make him think. John Stuart Mill, a great authority, says on this point, “The teacher’s part in the process of instruction is that of guide, director or superintendent of the operations by which the pupil teaches himself.” “It is an approved principle of the science of education that it should be the aim of the educator not merely to train faculty, but to induce in his pupils the power of exercising it without his aid—in other words, to make the pupils independent of the teacher. ’ ’ The conscious- ness of power, at first merely rudimentary, gains strength until it is developed into the habit of independent, mental self- direction. I may add, too, that the habit of clear, rapid, de- cided, independent thought is the highest form of intellectual education. But as the moral evolution of the youth must be trusted mainly to home influences and the environment, and, as the chief duty of the faculty is the intellectual training of the youth, so, to a large extent, his physical culture also must be incidental and dependent on his own volition. We cannot, in. 20 French fashion, march him out to the play-ground and his games, and we cannot safely keep him from them. The best we can do is, in some measure, to advise and aid. But what the best physical culture is cannot be called a settled question, and we must ask indulgence if we do not jump with every new athletic fad. or adapt our views to prefessional or semi- professional standards. Health, longevity and ability to attend to the main business of life must be regarded as well as muscle, in the nurture of the body. But all this will right itself. The evolution which aims at the highest attainable results, however, is self-development under the guiding light and influence of a superior motive. Where this is the rule there should be the least j>ossible compulsion, restraint or urgency by the authorities. And yet all must see how hard this makes the task of keeping a large body of high-spirited, restless students, full of youthful energy, in a beaten track toward a determinate goal. Yet this is what a faculty is called on to do. What are we here for? The evolution of organic man has been given as the answer. Here is the student with his heaven-bestowed powers and endowments to be trained, and here are the agencies to train them; the teacher, the studies or implements of training, the method employed in their use. It has been seen that while the faculty are the right ]>ersons to determine and direct the studies to be pursued and their coordination and sequence, still in this rounded work, the student, not the faculty, must play the larger part. Most of his moral and physical evolution, even more than his intellec- tual development, must be left to the student himself. It is made, it is true, under the light of his intellectual progress. 21 His entrance into college life is as if one were to come into a vast and dimly lighted chamber, “this majestical roof fretted with golden fire.’’ In it are set up the seven golden candle sticks of perfect knowledge; and, as the tapers are successive- ly lit on each, a gradual illumination fills the room with a radiance and glory that bring out all its splendors; for the name of this chamber, whose secrets are revealed to him, is “ the universe.’’ And every good thing and every evil thing comes clearlv to his sight. And then if the atmosphere, which is his moral environment, is pure and healthy, not only does he see truth, but the will power is given him to be and do what is great and good and noble and holy. Here, as I have said, we believe in free development and the culture of independent thought and will. We may sometimes sweeten the moral atmosphere with incense, fragrant, stimulating, and, if not surcharged, wholesome. But we cannot manufacture any vital air for the human soul like the breath of Heaven and we are not creators to breathe in a man’s nostrils the breath of life. Our part is to have a care that no foul con- tagion prevails to poison the young souls under our charge. If I have said so much of free growth in the whole nature of the student, it is because it is with us a fundamental principle. It is not a proper function of the schoolmaster or professor to mix his mathematics with theology, or his linguistics with the catechism. To each household there is a head to whom is confided by a higher power than man’s the responsibility for the religious training of its inmates. This family altar is such as the head of the house chooses to make it. Even in Oriental despotisms the autocrat takes care not to touch that tender spot, the human conscience. The Ameer of 22 Afghanistan leaves his religion to Moslem, Hindoo, and Christian alike. When he does not, woe to him or to the land he misgoverns. When our broad-minded founder, Mr. Tulanc, directed that this Uuiversity should be “Christian, but not sectarian,” it was in recognition, not contravention, of this idea. And why? Because to be “ Christian,” it must, w'ithin its scope, be administered in the spirit of the broadest charity and fra- ternity, so that its pupils and patrons, by whatsoever name called, be it Jewr or Gentile, Greek or Barbarian, may feel that they are here, not upon toleration, but on an equal foot- ing, and with equal rights. And such has been our course of conduct; and without entering into details, I can say it has been fully justified. Among the most essential principles of Christianity are, first: a clear perception of the infinite distance between Divine perfection and human frailty, between God and man. Second: Self-respect, which means the recognition that our bodies and souls are vessels in which the Divine nature has condescended to abide. Third: the rejection of brute force, so far as possi- ble, as an element of control and the substitution of charity or love for our neighbor, (the scientists call it altruism); and fourth: humility or reverence for the lowdy. Conformity to this ideal is very high culture; as high as we know how to strive for, and for this we strive. But among the fundamental principles, “Christian, but not sectarian,” on which society rests, the first is truth. To ascer- tain it, science inquires of nature, and philosophy of spirit. We can trust to the continual prevalence of truth as surely as to the sun’s rising, though we cannot say that either may not 23 be hidden by clouds to-morrow. An estimable man of busi- ness said to me not long ago, “I can trust nobody in business.” I wondered. “You keep a bank account, I suppose?”, I in- quired. “Oh yes.” “Then,” said I, “I think you must trust a great many people, for a rogue among them would spoil your business.” I felt that I had him, and I pushed the matter. “You travel a good deal on railroad trains. Did you ever think how many people you trust when you step aboard for your journey?” Civilization depends on this mu- tual confidence. The savage does not feel it. If it were not for dependence on everybody doing his part, our belief that all the myriad hands about us are busy with their rightful work, life in a city would not be tolerable. A desert would be a safer and preferable abode. What would become of our lights, water supply, roads, transportation, and commerce? What of our pleasure in meeting friends in social life? The duties may be poorly done, but failures from faithlessness are few. But enough of this; human society is based upon our confidence in one another, that men will be true in word and act. It is one sign of a gentleman—and a gentleman repre- sents the high-water mark of civilization—not to be unduly suspicious of men and'their motives. I am not recommending indiscriminate confidence any more than indiscriminate alms- giving. One need not abandon the use of his eyes or his com - mon sense. But we can be loyal and trustful; they are cor- relatives. And college association makes men so. There is a discipline of honor, a touch of the elbow in civil life, as well as in company drill. And college life gives this. The true college spirit is a sense of honor, sprung from the traditions of 24 chivalry and sublimated by Christianity. And this is the best outcome of college education. It is a great mistake to think it leaves a young man en- feebled for the battles of life. He who is animated by it bears the same relation to a fellow creature fed only on the crafty maxims of self-interest and personal gain that the eagle soaring in the upper air does to the jackdaw hiding his scraps of tinsel, or that the war horse does to the fox whose only power is to drag a cunning trail. The college life is a glorious thing for those youths who are permitted to have it and who enter into its spirit. It is the porch to a temple whose foundations are in the deeps and whose vaulted roof reaches the heavens.