LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. Ohai), Copyright So. Slielf.,:B.-T -J— UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. WORK AND PLAY TALKS WITH STUDENTS BY / JOHN E. BRADLEY, PH. D., LL. D., President of Illinois College BOSTON tlbe pilgrim ipress CHICAGO 12398 Library of Concjrert>- Two Copies Received JUN 29 19G0 Copyright entry No SECOND COPY. Deliverwl to OROER DIVISION, Copyright, 1900, by J. H. TEWKSBURY ^0 m^ wife, WHOSE ENTHUSIASM AND HELPFULNESS HAVE ENRICHED THE LIVES OF MANY STUDENTS AND INSPIRED ALL THAT WAS BEST IN MY OWN, THIS LITTLE BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. Student Life I II. Intellectual Growth . 19 III. Work . . . . 35 IV. Play . . . . 49 V. Health . . . . ^3 VI. Habit . . . . 81 VII. The Cost of Foundatic )NS lOI VIII. Unconscious Education 121 IX. Reserve Power ■ 139 X. The Scholar in Public Life ' 157 XI. Castles in Spain . 175 XII. What is Education .? 193 These familiar addresses were first given to the stu- dents of Illinois College. They were reported, and, most of them, first published in the College Rambler. After revision, they are now given to the larger public who are interested in student life and student aims. J. E. B. December, 1899. STUDENT LIFE Measure your 77iind''s height by the shade it casts. Robert Browning. The college, appealing immediately to the ?nental part, is yet to train every part. It is doing its duty only when it causes man to regulate appetite, to crush passion^ to guide desires, to quicken affec- tions, to prevent wrong, and to stiinulate right choices. President C. F. Thwing. STUDENT LIFE OTUDENT life presents many phases. Its special characteristics are strongly marked. An outside observer, misled by that which is most obtrusive, thinks of its gayety and its pranks, the noise and excitement which attend its intercolle- giate games, its festivities, and, perhaps, its mistakes. Those who are familiar with it, looking beneath its frolics and ebullitions, find a more serious side, rich with ambition and earnestness, but check- ered with doubts and misgivings. Hopes and fears, triumphs and defeats, are close- ly mingled on every college campus. Some of you are already familiar with the scenes of student life ; to others its experiences and its episodes will be com- paratively new. Such students may have come here with mistaken conceptions. 4 Work and Play They have heard the stories which are told in every community of college excitements, college rallies, college ** events," and these things have an un- due prominence in their ideas of student life. Let us understand, then, at the out- set that, in the college as in the outside world, industry and good habits attract little attention, while idleness, escapades, and every act which would fain be con- cealed have a wonderful facility of getting themselves reported. If our o-reat business here is not faith- ful and thorough work, we might as well pack our trunks and go home, and the college would better close its doors. But this kind of work is not published. It goes on unnoticed. It does not create a sudden disturbance and then mysteri- ously disappear around the corner. It joins in no rushes. It blows no horns, it rings no bells. But it is the principal factor in college life. It fills the time and engages the energies of most of us. Student Life 5 It develops mental power and transforms character, but, like the great forces of nature, it usually works silently and un- observed. College life is not peculiar in this respect. The same fact holds in society at large. The manifold indus- tries of a city or village roll on unnoticed ; but let some scandalous event occur and it quickly seems to be upon every lip. The daily papers report it, the telegraph spreads it abroad. But they have noth- ing to say concerning the upright men and women who go steadily about their own business. A generation ago, college students had a wretched habit of expending their sur- plus energies in tearing up sidewalks, unhanging gates, carrying off signs and other dubious midnight performances. You have heard men relate, with a touch of glee and a touch of shame, the ex- ploits and the disgraces of their own college days. That these things should have so largely ceased is due, perhaps. 6 Work and Play to the development of athletics and the introduction of the gymnasium. Vent is thus given to the exuberant vitality of youth and the way has thus been pre- pared for the more wholesome and manly sentiments which now prevail in most colleges concerning such disorders and riot. We welcome the change and would gladly make it complete and permanent. So let us not mistake that which is excep- tional, that which is trivial, or that which is unworthy for the main business which we have in hand. And let us all unite in a common purpose and an earnest endeavor to make our own lives and the general life of the college clean, manly and industrious. You who have come to college are picked men. You have been selected for leadership. You can be prepared for the unusual opportunities and respon- sibilities which await you only by faith- ful work. Your time is too valuable to be squandered in loafing or frivolity. Student Life 7 You need it for your daily work and you will find it none too long to make sure that your friends will not be disappointed in the great ends which have brought you here. The college boy becomes a man, not before but during his student days. The fiber and the stamina of his future years depend on the grit and self- control which he throws into his college life. He will meet new temptations, but the same prudence and restraint which he has learned by practice at home will keep him upright and safe from wrong here. One of the diflferences between the col- lege life of to-day and that of former times consists in the greater freedom which is now given to students. You have been amused at the codes of minute college laws which used to be published. But the present freedom of students con- sists not merely in release from surveil- lance, in determining so largely for themselves how they will pass their time, what their interests and who their asso- 8 Work and Play ciates shall be, and numerous details relating to their personal conduct, but also in the choice of subjects of study and in forming opinions on'moral social and religious subjects. When students entered college a gen- eration ago, they found a course of study prescribed for them which gave no op- portunity for selection of studies, and which consisted principally of those branches that were believed to possess the highest disciplinary value. The classics and mathematics were held to be nearly all that preparatory schools and colleges needed to teach. The analysis of words, the construction of sentences in their minor shades of differ- ence, and wrestling with intricate prob- lems were considered the true work of the student. By these things his accu- racy of thought, strength of reasoning, fairness of judgment and keenness of insight would be developed. Let us not undervalue what the col- Student Life 9 lege did for its students thirty or forty years ago. It laid firm hold of the great truth that intellectual strength is better than mere acquisitions. It inculcated it with every lesson. But there are other important things. While discipline is a fundamental purpose in education, it is intimately related to certain subordinate ends which must not be overlooked. The mind, like the body, grows strong by vig- orous exercise. In the gymnasium you raise the vaulting bar inch by inch to train yourself to jump as high as you can. Intellectual strength comes not so much by a dull routine as by intense and earnest effort. As far as possible we should be interested in what we study ; we should see its relation and its uses. The knowledge to be gained should be such as will be devoured with avidity. Hence the value of the elective system of studies which is now, in one form or another, incorporated into the work of all American colleges. lo Work and Play Form the habit of interesting your- selves thoroughly in your work. Cuvier, when a student, was one day walking along the beach in his native Normandy when he observed a cuttlefish lying stranded on a hillock of sand. Attracted by the curious object, he took it home to dissect, working for weeks upon it, and thus began the study of mollusks which ended in his becoming the most eminent scientist of his day. Hugh Miller's curi- osity was excited by certain remarkable traces of extinct sea-animals in the old red sandstone. He studied, investiga- ted, and became a leader of scientific thought. It was necessity, he said, which made him a geologist. He could not stop studying. How readily and how completely was the interest of these men aroused ! Dr. Johnson defined a genius to be *'a man of large general powers accidentally determined in some particular direction." Students do their best work when they are interested. Student Life 1 1 Their improvement depends not on their ability but on their effort. So be in earnest; throw vitality into your work. And while you thus gain strengdi and alertness of intellect, you will acquire and assimilate much that you will here- after be glad to know. You will not be ** ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth ;" you will see facts and laws in their relations and weave them unconsciously into your hab- its of thought. Such study will send you to the library and 3'ou will read, as you ought, with a purpose. The true love of reading, if not acquired in youth, is sel- dom gained at all. If the object of edu- cation is to make men and women cul- tured, it surely involves the copious reading of books and reading with real interest. And we may rest assured that while the great ends of mental discipline are thus incidentally attained, the treas- ures of knowledge, of sympathies and interests, thus secured, will prove of in- 12 Work and Play estimable value. Is there any true man who does not rejoice for all he knows and wish that he knew more? How many there are who wish that they had learned more in youthful hours which were wasted in idleness or misdirection ! But let us not carry our elective sys- tem too far. There are students who seem to stretch it from studies to life. They elect not only what they will do but also when they will work. As they always try to elect the easiest subjects and seldom elect to work, they get very little out of their student life, and it is apt to come to a premature end. Extreme cases of this kind are, fortunately, rare ; but a tinc- ture of this weakness pervades the lives of too many. Let every true student make sure that he selects his studies be- cause he values them, not because they are easy ; and let him prove that he can work not only because he is attracted by the subject but also because it is his duty to work. College life ought to train Student Life 13 him to buckle down to a disagreeable job, to stick to it till it is finished ; to distrust cleverness and put his faith in industry and earnestness. Let the stu- dent elect this course or that course, but let his work be vital. The college is made up of youth of superabounding life ; let their work illustrate and embody it. The atmosphere of college work, no less thar of college play, should be life, life ! College students may be divided into four groups. The first consists of men without intellectual aspiration and with- out positive convictions or purpose. They drift with the tide. They " cram to pass, they *' crib " to pass ; their only ambition is to get through. What little moral influence they have is bad. The second group is the middle class intellectually, morally and socially. They are not without self-respect and ambition, but their aims are low and their w^ork is commonplace. They would gladly stand high as students and as 14 Work and Play men, but their interest is weak and fickle. They do not often rouse themselves to earnest work. The third group consists of men who toil with fidelity and often with painstak- ing assiduity. They rank high in schol- arship and are regular at all college exercises. No one can speak of them but with respect. Their failure is in not reflecting on what they learn and the lack of an absorbing interest. History is to them only history, literature is only literature ; the lessons in character and life which these teach are overlooked. The fourth class is also made up of earnest workers. But, while they may not surpass all others in intellectual en- dowments nor in exact scholarship, they are distinguished from them by broad sympathies and an enthusiasm which vastly enrich their work. They seek knowledge, definite and exact informa- tion. The effort to obtain it not only yields mental discipline, but they work Student Life 15 with minds so open to truth in its com- pleteness and in its relations that they gain not merely information, learning, intellectual strength, but also that higher grace and power — culture. When Professor Tyndall was asked to name the formative influence which had been strongest in shaping his life, he quoted Nelson's appeal to his men just before the batde of Trafalgar — ''Eng- land expects every man to do his duty " — and said that the thought of duty had out- weighed all other motives in determining the work of his life. He could do what he believed he ought to do. No education is complete which does not teach one to be loyal to his convictions — obedient to the voice of duty. Religion cannot be taught ; it is a matter of personal choice and experience. But the persuasions to a religious life, " the forces which make for righteousness," are nowhere stronger than in the Christian college. The stu- dent who neglects these claims makes a 1 6 Work and Play lifelong mistake, and he who fails to become a factor in the religious life of the college loses an immeasurable oppor- tunity. Moreover, if a man would see his life in all its possibilities, he must go up into the mountains of spiritual thought as Christ went up into the mountain alone to pray. He must take time to reflect, in prayerful recognition, upon his sacred importance and responsibility as a man. Metaphorically he may be '' a worm," but literally he is an immortal soul, cre- ated in the image of God and given boundless scope for growth and the ex- ercise of his godlike powers. What young man can really understand him- self and his relations to his fellow men and not be lifted above base and unwor- thy things? When he thus sees the true significance of his life will he not strive to make the most of it? Will he not realize his best self? As one advances in his college course he is apt to lind his judgment changing Student Life 17 concerning many things. His estimate of men is different. The idols of his freshman year gradually sink into insig- nificance ; more mature reflection raises to first place men whose modest worth he had formerly overlooked. His clearer judgment and wider horizon give him better ideals of manhood and of culture than he had before. With this higher conception of what a true man should be, comes a vital question : Does his improve- ment keep pace with his ideal ? Is he sat- isfied with less than the best he can do? Character is cumulative. George Eliot says: '* We reiterate our lives in each new deed." " I looked behind to find my past And lo ! it had gone before." Fortunate is the man whose youth, wisely spent, has become for him a life- long spring of health and power. He will carry with him, amid life's burdens, the enthusiasm and the gladness of the true student. 3 II INTELLECTUAL GROWTH In life's small tkhigs be resolute and great To keep thy muscle trained; know 'st thou ivhen Fate Thy measure takes, or when she ''II say to thee, ' I fi7id thee worthy ; do this deed for fne P " J. R. Lowell. " I would the s^reat world grew like thee. Who growest not alotie in power And knowledge, but by year and hour, In reverence and in charity y Alfred Tennyson. II INTELLECTUAL GROWTH T WISH to take a few minutes this morn- ing to talk familiarly with you con- cerning some of the conditions of intellec- tual and moral growth. Students often fail to receive the full benefit of their study and instruction because they do not know how to co-operate most effectively with their teachers in efforts for their own im- provement. There is no lack of willing- ness on their part — no lack of fidelity and skill on the part of their teachers, but simply a failure to put themselves in the position to receive the stimulus and mental uplift which might be obtained. We have all observed the difference in the intellectual progress of different stu- dents. One seems to grasp every subject with ease and certainty. His classmates point to him with pride. If we meet 22 Work and Play him after an interval of a few months we are impressed with his intellectual growth. Another makes little progress and becomes a hard problem to himself and his friends and especially to his teachers. Now it is generally true that a student's advancement will be in proportion to his dihgence in study, and this is what we naturally expect. But it was not so in the case of General Grant, it was not so in the case of Henry Ward Beecher. And there have always been enough instances of successful men who were poor students to keep some excellent people busy explaining and to afford great comfort to lazy and conceited stu- dents who want the rewards of hard work without being willing to do the work. In this college we have an ad- vantaore over some institutions in that nearly all who are here have come with a desire and a distinct purpose to im- prove. There are schools in which other Intellectual Growth 23 considerations prevail more largely, in- stitutions whose students have little ap- preciation of the value of a college train- ing. There are classes of people in every large community who have no aspiration for mental or moral improve- ment. Their feeling towards all that is above them is one of envy and hate, with no ambition to attain to excellence them- selves. Thus the philanthropic workers who are carrying on the Hull House and other social and college settlements in Chicago and New York find their first and most difficult duty to be that of in- spiring in the minds of those among whom they labor a desire for something better and a willingness to strive for its attainment. A college boy without am- bition is a discouraging subject for his instructor. If he cannot become inter- ested in his work, he might as well give it up. If, then, we desire to grow, let us try and apprehend clearly the conditions 24 Work and Play and the means of growth. We shall thus be able to work intelligently to secure the desired end. There are certain processes of devel- opment which go on in us unconsciously. This passive growth is no more credit to us than our increase of stature or of avoirdupois. It probably never raises a person above mediocrity. The growth which leads to real excellence is always accompanied with conscious effort. Great men do not become such by idly waiting and wishing. There is much in heredity, but there is more in education and environment. No blood was ever blue enough to make a man eminent except as he himself strove to attain eminence. Intellectual growth requires, first, a consciousness of one's need of growth, and, second, a consciousness of one's capacity for growth. There are some people who feel no need of improvement ; they are self-complacent in the belief that Intellectual Growth 25 they are great already. And there are multitudes whose sluggish and benighted minds never discover their own igno- rance and feebleness. It is only as one realizes his need that we can hope for his improvement. One of the most sal- utary processes which certain students undergo at the hands of their fellows is to have the conceit taken out of them. While the methods by wdiich this is accomplished cannot always be com- mended, and while we pity the victim, just as we would if he were having a bad tooth extracted, we are glad to have him cured of a disease which is worse than the toothache. But many who are conscious of their need distrust their capacity for growth. Faith in ourselves, in the capacity of our faculties to respond to the demands which will be made upon them, is no less essen- tial than the consciousness of our need of improvement. History abounds in inspiring examples of men who have 26 Work and Play risen to eminence in spite of personal dis- advantages. When Beaconsfield, stam- mering through his first parliamentary argument, was at length coughed down by his jeering audience and compelled to take his seat, he exclaimed : " I yield to your ridicule to-day, but the time shall come when you will be glad to listen to me." If we may believe the stories which have been handed down to us, Demosthenes was accustomed for years to recite poems and orations as he ran up hill and to declaim in the face of the winds and the waves that he might strengthen his voice and lungs and overcome natural defects in his speech. It is safe to assert that no one ever at- tained to superiority who could not *' screw his courage to the sticking-point." We develop our powers by overcoming the difficulties which confront us. The solu- tion of a difficult problem in mathematics, the first participation in a society debate, the successful dash in a football game, all Intellectual Growth 27 test and develop an ability to accomplish a purpose. "All progress," says von Ranke, the German historian, *' whether of individuals or of nations, has been through conflict." A symmetrical character implies an even balance between self-confidence and modesty. An excess of either is a serious, often a fatal, barrier to success. He who is over-confident gives offense by his arrogance and neglects the pre- paration necessary to successful perform- ance. He who is self-distrustful cannot rouse his powers to their fullest exertion, magnifies the obstacles in his way and yields to difficulties which might be over- come. Henry Clay was content to be a grocer's clerk until he was suddenly awakened by a strange personal experi- ence to the possibilities which lay slum- berincr within him. Then he roused himself and determined to surmount every obstacle. The true means of intellectual and 28 Work and Play moral growth is, then, vigorous effort towards a definite end. A clear aim and an earnest purpose must go hand in hand. A certain half-truth current nowadays declares that *' we learn to do by doing," and there is an old maxim which says that practice makes perfect. But it de- pends on the kind of practice whether it makes perfect or not. We do not always learn to do by doing. You have seen pages of school-boys' copy-books where every line grew poorer from the top to the bottom of the page. Sometimes practice results in listlessness, sometimes in celerity rather than in good work. There are men whose business requires them to sign their name so often and so rapidly that their signature is almost illegible. We find many persons who have done one thing so long that they do it poorly. They take little interest in their work and it becomes a dull routine. Mere repetition makes men mechanical rather than skilful. Practice makes Intellectual Growth 29 perfect when there is a definite aim. We must clearly apprehend the exact thing to be done ; we must muster our energies to do it most effectually. Did you ever watch the pitcher in a baseball game? How his eye guides his hand as he sends the ball spinning past the bat? A good pitcher illustrates the kind of practice which makes perfect. The intellect and the will must unite in vigorous action if we are to learn to do by doing. The conditions of mental growth are few and simple, but they are important. In general they are the same as those of physical growth. The body cannot grow without food ; neither can the mind. The farmer fattens his steers by feeding them well ; he cannot raise large animals without giving them an abundance of good food. But he also looks carefully to other conditions. He gives them appro- priate exercise. If one of his colts is to be a racer, he tests his speed from time to time on a good track. He notes the 30 Work and Play effects of different kinds of food and diff- erent forms of exercise. The training of a thinker involves the same conditions as the training of a racer. The student must have mental nourish- ment, food for thought; that is, he must learn facts. Lack of information causes feeble thinking, obscure thinking. It is only when facts are clearly apprehended, when they are known in their relations, that they will be fairl}^ and vigorously considered. But practice, judicious ex- ercise, is also needed. The mind must be trained to ease and clearness in ac- quiring information : it should be nimble and Argus-eyed ; it should also sift and classify its acquisitions. Unclassified knowledge, unassimilated facts, hinder and enfeeble thought. It is only when truth is seen in its relations that it truly educates. Mistakes have often been made just at this point. Some have over-estimated the importance of acquiring facts ; others Intellectual Growth 31 have given undue emphasis to drill. It has been thought that better results, or quicker results, would be obtained by omitting one or the other of these factors. Some have magnified the element of ex- ercise ; they have likened education to gymnastics ; mental training has been believed to consist in the rapidity with which certain acts are performed ; they would have every teacher a drill-master. But they forget the element of acquisi- tion, that the mind must have materials with which to work. Perhaps the black- smith could harden the muscles of his arm and make it strong by merely pound- ing the anvil, instead of working to fashion the hot steel. But it is not so with mental effort. The exercise which strengthens the mind has a purpose. Aimless repe- tition makes the mind dull and mechan- ical. Mental training is not like turning a crank ; it is rather like the athlete's spring, like the racer's dash. Lessing uttered only a half-truth, or a truth which 32 Work and Play has often been misapplied, when he said that if he held truth like a bird in his hand he would let it fly away that he might catch it again, since it is the pur- suit of truth, he says, which is valuable, rather than the truth itself. But truth is desired because of its value in itself or in its applications. Modern industry has been developed by utilizing the truths which science has sought out. Scholar- ship is the reward which comes to him who has found and appropriated many truths. The mind grows strong in the process if the search for truth is intelli- gent and thoroughly in earnest. The truth must be worthy of the pursuit ; it must call forth the mind's best energies. Hence the value of interest in study ; listless or aimless study yields no strength. Select studies in which you feel a spontaneous interest, if you can ; if not, create an interest. College days ought to yield us an enduring enthusi- asm in some department of study. It Intellectual Growth 33 often happens, indeed, that the early- enthusiasm thus gained leads to valuable results in after life, or determines one's future callincr. Have you a lesson or a class exercise to prepare? Set before yourselves the hinrhest standard ; be content with no slovenly work. Bring all the energies of your mind to the preparation. Train your faculties to respond to your demands upon them as the pitcher trains his mus- cles. Do not allow yourselves to spend two hours upon what should be done in forty minutes. Permit no interruption, no wandering thoughts. Learn to con- centrate all your powers and compel them to act every time with their utmost vigor. This is the secret of growth. 4 Ill WORK " Work is my 7'ecreation, a delight like that Which a bird feels in flyings or a fish In darting through the waters H. W. Longfellow. * ' The law of jiature is that a certain qnantity of work is necessary to produce a certaiji qtiantity of good. If you want knowledge, you must toil for it ; if food, you must toil for it ; and if pleasure^ you jnust toil for it.'''' John Ruskin. Ill WORK A YEAR or two ago, Edward Everett Hale published an article in one of the magazines entitled '* Getting the Best of It." It was of special interest because it was understood to describe his methods of daily work. If it had enabled him to accomplish so much, why would it not be serviceable to others? The article attracted much attention, and while some doubted the practicability of his pro- gram, all agreed that each day's work should be so planned as to yield the largest possible result with the smallest possible expenditure of nervous energy. No one can measure the power of work. It is work that has built up the world's in- dustries and carries them on, organized its vast systems of transportation and ex- change, filled its warehouses with goods and provisions and carried comfort and 38 Work and Play contentment into millions of homes. A laborer puts in his spade to dig a trench. He can remove but a few pounds of earth at a time, but he perseveres and in a few days he sees a goodly piece of work accomplished. A student looks at the well filled shelves of a library and says to himself: *' No one can read all these books ; I might as well give up try- ing to know anything. There is so much to learn in every department of study that I am discouraged before I begin." But we have all heard of the man who read the seven volumes of Rawlinson's Ancient History during the tedious moments when he was waiting for his meals, and a busy young man, who was carrying more than the re- quired amount of college work, found time this year in the leisure hours of two months to read five thick volumes of history. It only requires time and well directed work to make almost any one of us a learned man. Work 39 Great men have always been great workers. The essential characteristic of strong manhood is power of accom- plishment. It is not wealth nor official position, but brains and work that take first rank. Not long ago two important positions became vacant at the s^me time in a great business office. One man was appointed to fill both positions at a salary higher than the combined salaries of both of his predecessors. His ability, in one sense, was no greaterthan theirs ; but he was known to be an ex- traordinary worker. He was more valu- able to his emplo3^ers than two common men. The highest working power stands at the head. A strange mistake in the interpreta- tion of Scripture has taught us to look upon work as a curse. Human pride and laziness readily accept this view. But reason and science, as well as the Bible, teach us that a life of work is man's normal condition and his greatest 40 Work and Play blessing. Much of the folly, misery and crime of the world are the result of idle- ness. It is difficult even to provide needed leisure for working men with- out bringing with it unseemly vices. Christianity honors work, exalts it, dis- tinguishes it from labor. Wor/e implies intelligence, implies a purpose, implies hope; labor is blind, unthinking, aim- less. The Latin word labor has come down to us from a heathen civilization and still carries in its meaning the taint of heathen hopelessness and oppression. Christianity teaches man to work out his own salvation. It sets before him a thousand possibilities of improving his condition ; it cultivates ambition and then it bids man work ; and it teaches that patient work yields grand results, not only in material products but also in intellectual enjoyment and in strong, well balanced character. The gentleman of leisure is not ordi- narily the highest kind of a man. Un- Work 41 less he has retired from his business or profession after many years of industri- ous activity, he will rarely show robust and manly character. The very enjoy- ment of our vacations depends upon the vigor with which we have been working. A real vacation can only be earned by work. The best time of our livinef is the time of working, when we are sum- moned to put forth our most earnest efforts to meet the duty of an appointed hour. Why should we despise a daily routine? Few men are ever happy with- out it. Let us prize most the education which fits us for earnest, manly work. Napoleon could go through the man- ual of arms better than any soldier in his army, he could make or repair any article used in his campaigns, he was gifted with marvelous foresight and in- tuition, but his real genius consisted in extraordinary ability to work ; — now gal- loping to the head of his army to cheer his soldiers by his presence, now stop- 42 Work and Play- ping to consult with a field-marshal, now looking after the baggage-train in the rear and, when a halt was made, sitting surrounded by his secretaries more than half of the night, answering inquiries, preparing orders and planning the details of his campaign. Garfield was eloquent, poetic, versa- tile, but his strength consisted in the ability to do an enormous amount of work. The librarians of Congress tell, to this day, of the remarkable number of books he used to consult when he was in the House. He w'ould send for a hundred volumes at a time ; and when he made a report or a speech on an impor- tant bill that was pending, it would appear that he had found something for his use in every one of the books. The late Dr. Philip SchafFwas a mar- velous worker. Perhaps no pen has been so productive in this countr\^ as his, while the quality of his work is attested by the fact that when he visited the Work 43 World's Fair some years ago he found in the little library of five thousand books which were deemed the best ever published in the United States fifteen of his own books. And yet he was never hurried ; he had time to frequent liter- ary clubs, had leisure for the most delightful social relations and he ren- dered a great variety of services to the public and to the Church. Since, then, work is so powerful, so important a factor in our lives, our col- lege days ought to yield, _;fr5/, the ability to work effectively and, second^ the love of work. I. Our education should not be ex- clusively intellectual. How often do men's best thoughts and purposes fail of realization from lack of ability to carry them into effect 1 That young men should learn to think is well ; that they should learn to act is better. They should learn in school and college the secret of accomplishment, how to 44 Work and Play escape discouragement and defeat, how to achieve successes that will endure. Each obscure passage in the Greek or German, each knotty problem in mathe- matics, ought to be regarded as a sort of challenge which it would be disgraceful to decline. Students should acquire the habit of investigating for themselves, of setting themselves deliberately to work to find out in the library or laboratory the exact truth which they need to know. They should learn to overcome difficul- ties, to rouse their energies and hold each practical problem firmly in hand until its perplexities disappear. The old-fashioned virtue of perseverance should be cultivated. Young men should be ready to declare with Car- dinal Richelieu that ''in the bright lexicon of youth there is no such word asy^/7." The proof of will-power is the ability to succeed. 2. College training ought to enable us to overcome a dislike of work. The Work 45 element of inertia is pretty strong in most people and they accept work as a necessity which they would gladly escape. Since it is a necessity for most, a true philosophy w^ould teach us to welcome and enjoy, not to resist, it. Those who try to do this usual- ly find that they become interested in the work, whatever it may be, and idle- ness becomes distasteful and oppressive ; they are able to exclaim with Lord Chancellor Coke ^^ Labor ipse volun- tas.''' It is safe to say that unwilling work is usually poorly done and he who would put forth his best energies must become so interested as to find zest and inspiration in his work. To assist you in making the work of each day as easy and effective as possi- ble, perhaps you will find these sugges- tions helpful. {a) Remember that each day will bring its own work. A distinguished graduate of this college, Hon. Newton 46 Work and Play Bateman, says that when he was a stu- dent he could saw two cords of wood in a day, but that if he was idle one day he could not saw four cords the next day. If you are to be successful students, you will find your time pretty full. Resist encroachments upon it. Keep a little in advance of your work. Gain your leisure before you take it. (3) Learn concentration. If you can prepare a lesson thoroughly in one hour, don't spend two hours upon it. Compel your mind to put forth its best energy. Permit no interruption while you are en- gaged in study. I once saw a student completely absorbed in his work while five or six fellows were lounging and chatting in his room, but even he would have found it easier and more beneficial to study alone. The habit of two or more students getting out their lesson together does not tend to develop the best working ability. (c) Be systematic. Have regular Work 47 hours for study, regular hours for exer- cise, regular hours for sleep. Do not depend upon impulse, but rather train your impulse, your interest in the thing to be done, to come to your aid at the right time. If you cultivate the habit of devoting the same hours each day to the preparation of certain lessons, reading in the library at certain hours and having fixed hours for all your work, you will find the interest rising at the right time to make your work easy, as surely as your appetite will return at meal-time. {d) Don't be bafiled. Train yourself to succeed, not to fail. If you cannot surmount obstacles in one way, try an- other. It is the bulldog grip that wins. When the cultured young Governor Rus- sell of Massachusetts said at a Harvard dinner that he would rather hear that Harvard had won in an intercollegiate game of football than in an intellectual contest, he did not intend to disparage high scholarship or literary excellence, 48 Work and Play but rather to exalt that strength of will which is a prerequisite to success in any undertaking. If you have convictions, live up to them. If life presents a prob- lem, solve it. If tasks and difficulties rise mountain-high, tunnel through them. There are few thincrs which work in- spired by faith and hope cannot accom- plish. " To thine own self be true And it must follow as the day the night Thou canst not then be false to any man." IV PLAY ^'A day for toil, an hour for sport.''"' R. W. Emerson. ' ♦ Our pleasures and our discontents Are rounds by which we 7nay ascend.'''' H. W. Longfellow. ' * If those who are the enemies ofin7tocent amuse- ments had the direction of the world, they would take away the spring and yotith, — the former from the year, the latter fro7n the hiunan life.'''' Balzac. IV PLAY T^HE subject of one of our recent chapel talks was Work. It may have seemed like a rather heroic topic, but I think we all agree that our success in life will depend largely on our ability to do a large amount of good work. Every year increases the importance of working power. A college training ought certainly to yield good results in this direction. Carlyle says : '* The only happiness a brave man ever troubles himself about is happiness enough to get his own work done." But, fortunately, life is not all made up of work. No one can work inces- santly, and the attempt to do this always defeats itself and often brings its own swift penalty. He who would acquire and retain great capacity for work must 52 Work and Play beware lest he lose the very power which is so valuable to him. The ability to work well implies the ability to rest well. Health is fundamental. A famous wit once said : '* If I was to pick out a wife for the Crown Prince of England, I would ask first, 'Does she sleep well?' second, 'Does she eat plain food?' and if so, I 'd tell the prince to take her and be thankful for whatever other good qualities she possessed." Primitive man lacks power of applica- tion ; he acts from impulse, as he is incited by hunger, love or hate. " There is danger," says Herbert Spencer, '* that civilized man will lose the power of re- pose, of the ability to enjoy the present good in his eager strivings for the fu- ture." We want health and heartiness and a bounding pulse. Many people are cyn- ics without knowing it. They are under- vitalized, overworked — victims of worry and borrowed trouble. Their friends Play 53 sometimes think them profound, but who would not rather be superficial and shal- low than to be morose and cynical in order that he might be thought deep? The opposite of work is not idleness, but play. Nature's penalty for idleness is no less stern than for overwork. She demands the joyous alternation of work and play. Every person whose life is to be robust and hearty must have his peri- ods of play. Recreation must turn his thoughts into new channels, relieve the pressure upon the brain and the tension upon the nerves, and give tone and vigor to the muscles and vital organs. I am sorr}^ for the man who no longer likes to play. He has lost one of the most precious gifts with which nature endowed him. God intended that we should live in the sunshine, not grope about in clouds and shadows. It is a credit to a person's physical and moral condition that he likes to be amused. Some one has said that it is work that 54 Work and Play transforms a boy into a man ; but it is also to be said that the boy of -promise plays. If any boy says that he would rather sit and study than to go to the playground, take a good look at him. Either he is sick, or prematurely devel- oped, or he is a little humbug, trying to get credit for studious tastes under false pretenses. If his schoolmates are at play, he ought to be squirming in his chair and impatient to join them. Un- less he is a poor, premature little book- worm, with flabby muscles and quiver- ing nerves, he is an incipient little pre- tender. ** Man made the school; God made the playground," says Walter Bagehot. So, I say, do n't be ashamed of the fact that you love to play and that you sometimes leave vour lessons behind with a sense of relief, and hurry away to the athletic field or the gymnasium, or to the familiar haunts of your friends and playmates. Do not become prema- Play 55 turely blase, and look on with a lazy indifference and superiority while others amuse themselves. Military drill and the systematic train- ing of the gymnasium are excellent; no one should undervalue them ; but real play is better. It was noted, years ago, by Dr. Wiese, that the young men of Rugby and Eton did not play in order to develop their muscles, expand their lungs, quicken their circulation, improve their figures, or add grace to their bear- ing. They thought of none of these things. They simply played, from the mere love of playing, and all these and many other benefits were the results. Why is the little child so ceaselessly active ? Every muscle is called into exer- cise. To the ordinary observer, it seems like a perpetual but meaningless use of half-developed organs. Sometimes the restlessness and noisy ways of the little ones disturb older people, and attempts are made to check them. But, fortunate- 56 Work and Play l}', the natural impulse is too strong, and such efforts are largely unsuccessful. The appetite for play, for amusement, for exercise, is no less fundamental in our constitution than the appetite for food. It is implanted for a purpose, and subserves an end which must be as important as its phenomena are strik- ing. What is this purpose? The first answer to this question is that the impulse to play secures physical I development. The bodily frame is to be I built up and made strong and supple for use. The law of its growth is exercise. The love of play secures it. The sense organs are also trained. Many sports are as admirably adapted to train and quicken the senses as they are to strengthen the muscles. Play trains the intellectual powers. In few persons does the intellect ever attain its full development. It is like an organ of many keyboards and stops ; the danger is that its possessor will ac- Play 57 quire the use of only a small part of them. Education consists largely in awakening these slumbering powers and revealing the harmonies which nature makes possible. Play brightens the mental processes, and adds gladsome tints to activities which would otherwise be prosaic. Play cultivates a habit of glad and generous appreciation ; a disposition to be easily pleased ; a joy in companion- ship and intellectual converse. What is more valuable than a cheerful spirit and a ready sympathy ? Nature intends that the impulse to play shall quicken the lighter emotions, and infuse gladness and vivacity and sparkle into the mind's activities. Those who play together quickly become friends. The sports of childhood and 3'^outh train the will. Games of streno-th or skill appeal to each contestant to put forth his utmost efforts. Aijain and again the test recurs, and each time the 58 Work and Play will marshals all the forces at its com- mand to attain the end desired. Thus the man learns in his youth to meet com- petitors, to surmount obstacles, to face an opponent, to unite his efforts with those of others. Play lays the foundation for strength by the exercise which it calls forth, — strength of body, strength of mind, — and then it trains and invicforates the direct- ive power which is to use it. Such, in brief, are some of the uses of play. It is the recruiting-officer and drill-sergeant of all the physical, mental and moral powers. While it springs from an irresistible impulse, it contrib- utes to the highest rational ends. But this love of play must be con- trolled — subordinated to worthy aims. Suppress it and you dwarf every intel- lectual and moral power ; give it free rein — full control — and it defeats its own ends, loses its charm, and becomes a source of weakness and ruin. Play is a Play 59 necessity, a delight, but it must be in- dulged with due subordination to the higher ends of growth and character. Three principles may guide us in the pursuit of recreation : 1. Play should be invigorating. Its purpose is to promote cheerfulness, buoy- ancy, and a healthful glow. If it is ath- letic, it should quicken the circulation and purify the blood. If it is mental, it should be interesting enough to divert the thoughts from their previous chan- nels. If it is both athletic and mental, double benefit will be received. It should be hearty and somewhat exciting ; it fails of its purpose if it is too quiet and pas- sive. Loafing is not play. 2. Play should be innocent — not harm- ful to ourselves or to others. Here is a young man w^ho likes to play certain games, but who says they are not inter- esting enough unless he stakes some money on the result. If he does that, he is making a fatal mistake, and enter- 6o Work and Play ing the path which is trod by spend- thrifts and gamblers — a steep decline from which few escape. Another, re- joicing in his strength, craves the excite- ment of personal encounter. Hence we find students in the German universities fighting a kind of sham duel, and young men in certain American colleges taking their exercise with boxing-gloves. But we have prize-fighters enough without trying to develop them in our institutions of learnincj ! Let us choose amusements which will not create in us low tastes or false standards of right and wrong. 3. Play should not be excessive. No- where is self-control more important than in those amusements which tempt us to excess. A few years ago the name of a certain young man was known ail over the country. He was famous in several lines of college athletics. His whole soul was in them. But his interest in other and more important things was lost, and his college course was a fail- Play 6 I ure. His enthusiasm for athletics was a good thing, if properly controlled. Not so controlled, it became the rock on which he was shipwrecked. One's rec- reations afford a test of character. The strong man puts them in their true place. They are an incident, a pleasant change in the routine of his daily life. He en- joys them keenly, but he gives them up at the proper time. The weak man is absorbed by his amusements, and for- gets everything else. They usurp the place of his work, blind his reason, and stifle his conscience. It is said that football originated in Yale college fifty or sixty years ago in an effort to prevent brutality. The freshman and sophomore classes were having trouble, and a collision and a free fight were imminent. The seniors, jealous for the good name of the college, acted the part of peacemakers, and ar- ranged for a trial of strength by a foot- ball match between the classes. This 62 Work and Play was the old game of football. Twenty- five or thirty years later, Rev. Dr. D. S. Schaff brought to this country the new Rugby game which has become so popular. It is a rough game. For ig- norant or clumsy players it is a dan- gerous game ; but, when the Duke of Wellington, late in life, sat watching a game of football among the students of Eton college, he said : " There's where the battle of Waterloo was won." Amusements are a necessity, relieving an overburdened mind, restoring elas- ticity and vigor. They are a discipline of judgment, of temper, of will. They brace the body and calm the spirit. They keep the heart young, the tastes simple, the sympathies warm. Without them the body, mind and spirit alike lose their rightful gladness and tone. V HEALTH ■i ' ' T/ie 7norality of clean blood oitght to be one of the first lessotis taught its. The physical is the sub- stratiwi of the spiritual', and this fact ought to ^ive to the food we eat and the air we breathe a transcend- ent significa^tce.'''' John Tyndall. V HEALTH "LJEALTH is said to be wealth. It is more ; it is the foundation of every blessing in life. Wealth, scholarly at- tainments, even life itself, lose half their value without this priceless gift. In pur- suit of health, people give up the com- forts of home and the companionship of friends, travel to distant lands and live in lonely retreats. Once lost, no search is too difficult, no price too great to pay for its recovery. And yet with what recklessness and prodigality this treasure is squandered ! The number of oreventable diseases is enormous. In this age of scientific re- search, when the secret germs of so many diseases have been discovered, it is still said by a high medical authority that ninety-six per cent, of the deaths in this 6 66 Work and Play country are premature and unnecessary. The best physicians devote themselves more and more to the prevention rather than the cure of disease. It is to be hoped that the time will come when we shall pay our doctors as we do our pastors, to keep us well and doing well, rather than to cure us when we fall sick. Those of you who are looking forward to the study of medicine may readily realize that a full collecre course affords none too much preparation for the profound investiga- tions which must be carried on by the physician of the coming day. No man needs wider information or deeper in- sight than he who guards the life and the health of his fellow men. Assuming, then, that most sickness is unnecessary, that it is, generally, our duty to be well and OKr sin, or some other person's sin, if we are sick, let us glance briefly at some of the conditions of good health. Of course a treatise on hygiene cannot be compressed into the limits of a Health 6^ familiar talk, but, confining our attention to the personal aspects of the matter and to those things which especially relate to student life, a few points may be em- phasized. Hygiene has been defined as the science which teaches people to take the ounce of prevention instead of the pound of cure. Of course the ounce of preven- tion is not always pleasant to take. Peo- ple persuade themselves that it is a need- less precaution, that the dose is too large or too bitter, or that it will be more agree- able at some other time. Sometimes the ounce seems so trivial as to be of no con- sequence, and so it is forgotten or neg- lected till suddenly the pound of cure becomes necessary. Surely we must count that education poor and incom- plete which does not train to good judg- ment and self-control in the care of the health. " Be watchful over your body," says Descartes, *'if you would rightly exercise your mind." Let us select a 6S Work and Play few practical points as worthy of special consideration. I. Food and Drink. These are the foundations of life ; they have peculiar relations to our health. No small part of the diseases which afflict mankind spring from the misuse of food and drink. Lest, in the press of other interests, we should forget these necessities of our nature, two sentinels have been placed on guard to remind us from time to time of our danorer. One of these sentinels we call hunger, the other, thirst. But while the}^ are pretty sure to tell us when we need to eat or drink, they cannot always be relied upon to tell us when to stop eating and drinking. The tempta- tions of cooks, caterers and distillers do more to shorten human life than all the contagious and inherited diseases the doctors know. Moreover, appetite, which ought to be a faithful guide, is easily suborned and made the efficient allv of our deadliest Health 69 enemies. The world presents no more revolting spectacle than the man who has become the degraded slave of appetite. Thousands of people go through life dyspeptic and handicapped, because in youth they were unwilling to practice a little self-restraint in the use of various palatable but indigestible dishes and condiments ; while other thousands lay the foundation in 3'outh of lifelong mis- ery and disgrace by learning to tamper with alcoholic drinks. He who eats too much takes a step towards the contempt- ible vice of gluttony. He who acquires an appetite for intoxicating drinks lights a torch to burn his own dwelling. There can be no temperate use of poisons. Every city and town in the land affords staggering, bloated, loathsome illustra- tions of the destruction of health and manhood by indulgence in intoxicating drinks. Many of these men, once as strong and hopeful and ambitious as you are, laughed at the squeamishness of 70 Work and Play those who thought it was dangerous to drink light wines and beer. They glo- ried in their independence and their strength. But now their maudlin words and labored breath portray, as no tem- perance lecture can, the abject bondage of him who is a slave to appetite. Let every student remember the beautiful words of Tennyson : " Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control; — These three alone lead life to sovereign power/' 2. Brain-workers need more sleep than other people, yet they often get less. Their brain goes on working after they have retired to rest. Grinding, like a mill without a grist, it only wears away its own substance, exhausts its own power. Blessed mystery of sleep ! No physician or biologist can explain it ; it is akin to creation, a divine thing. And yet, how men trifle with it, defraud it, begrudge the hours which it consumes ! Kant, the philosopher, had acquired, by Health 7 1 practice, a dexterous mode of wrapping himself in the bedclothes, like a silk- worm in its cocoon. When thus snugly folded in, he would say to himself, " Can any man enjoy better health than I do?" And when he tells us that he retired every night with this peaceful reflection at the same hour and rose at precisely the same hour every morning for thirty years, we are not surprised at his robust health or the matchless vigor of his mind. Byron complained of sleeplessness, des- pondency and nightmare. He " wrote when the fit was on " by night or by day. He was one of those men of whom Goethe sneeringly says, *'they spend their days complaining of headache and their nights drinking the wine which produces it.'' His lamp of life went out when he was but thirty-six, and the world has never ceased to lament the loss and misuse of his brilliant intellectual gifts. Gladstone slept regularly, took systematic exercise and observed the conditions of good 72 Work and Play health, and we find him, hale and hearty, returning to the premiership at eighty- four. Be jealous of the hours of sleep. Make your work, your amusements, your social life, conform to the reasonable demands of this beneficent visitor. Count it not pleasure, but dissipation and weariness, to spend the hours which belong to sleep in gayety or unseasonable work. Enjoy society and cultivate friendship, but always subject to the claims of duty and usefulness. Here are two young men working side by side. One sleeps early and long ; the other retires late and irregularly. You say they seem to get on equally well, but Kant would have told you, as their physician will tell you, that one of them is slowly exhausting his stock of vitality, while the other is keeping it full. In time, one will be bankrupt, the other rich, in health. "I can do nothing," said General Grant, " without nine hours Health 73 of sleep." Horace Greeley refused to sit up at night sessions of Congress, ab- ruptly leaving when his hour for retiring arrived. No young man can afford to disregard, or cut short, the ministrations of ♦« Kind nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep." 3. Another great preserver of life and health is exercise. Nothing destroys power so completely and effectually as disuse. Compare the arm that has been carried in a sling with the arm that has wielded the blacksmith's hammer. Com- pare the hard, well-rounded muscles of a college athlete with the puny frame of one who has been confined in a close room. But even this contrast does not tell the whole story. It is more than a hundred years since Priestly discovered oxygen, but there are many people who do not seem to have discovered it yet. They shut it out of their homes and al- most shut it out of their lungs. Oxygen 74 Work and Play is life ; the gas which it liberates is death. The most important effect of exercise is to produce a vigorous flow of blood to the lungs. If taken, as it should be, in the open air, or in a large, cool room, the blood is rapidly oxygenated, purified from dangerous poisons, and life and strength and health are absorbed. Nature has provided for this bodily need during childhood by implanting the love of play. The sports in which chil- dren most delight are admirably adapted to develop and strengthen the body. That man is fortunate who never out- grows the fondness for play. But it must be conceded that many men do not thus preserve their childish impulses. They lose this one very young ; indeed, some are never so old, in this respect, as about the time they are college students. You will find, sitting side by side in every company of students, those who delight in athletic sports and those who shrink from vigorous exercise as they would Health 75 from an ice-cold bath. They almost re- sent the kindly but expensive provision made for their welfare in playgrounds and gymnasiums. And to such I say, take your exercise whether you enjoy it or not. Your disinclination to it is the strongest proof that you need more of it. The reward of exertion is the ability to exert yourself more easily next time. Not long ago, a man walked down the principal street of an Eastern city carry- ing a barrel of flour under each arm. A few years before he had been given up to die of an incurable disease ; but well- directed exercise quickened the circula- tion and gave vigor to every part until he astonished a whole city with his feats of strength. 4. Much has been said recently con- cerning the danger of overwork. That there is a danger of this kind, no one will deny. Men break down from overwork; the nerves give way from sheer exhaus- tion. Students undermine their health 76 Work and Play from excessive study. Prudence and good judgment are necessary in these things. But so much misapprehension exists and the danger is thus so greatly increased, that we ought to estimate it as carefully as we can. We do well to remember, then, that mental exercise is as conducive to bodily health as physical exercise is to mental health. "A sound mind in a sound body" implies the vigorous activity of both. They are not counter claimants of a lim- ited stock of vitality, but rather constituent factors of one whole. Intellectual tone, cheerfulness, earnest purpose invigorate the body no less certainly than good physical conditions strengthen the mind. A score of people overwork their bodies where one overworks his mind. Com- pare the faces of the cash-boys and girls in a city store with those of the children in a grammar-school; compare the youth in high schools and colleges with the clerks and operatives of the same age. Health ']'-j '* Itis the factory-children, not the school- children, that die," said an eminent phy- sician, not long since. Intellectual pur- suits are the most healthy occupations. Records of life insurance show that brain-workers outlive mechanics and laborers. Make a list of a hundred of the most eminent men this country has produced and you will be delighted to find what a large proportion of them lived to a good old age. The average age of the fifteen presidents of the United States, first deceased, was seventy-five years. The triennial catalogues give eloquent testimony to the prolonged lives of col- lege graduates. There is no better tonic than success. Defeat is as demoralizing to the health as it is to the character. It is often better to make a brave eflfort and incur fatigue than to give up and say, '' I can't." Education consists in gaining the ability to use one's powers — to make them yield the largest possible service. It trains men to do things — not to refrain 78 Work and Play from doing them. The men who are getting the most out of life are the broad- gauge men who are interested in all that concerns the public welfare. They were *' hustlers" when they were students. The man who draws back within his shell, who has no time, no strength, for anything but his own self-centered round, makes his health as precarious as his in- fluence is insignificant. Better to wear out than to rust out. Barbarians are short-lived ; but the clear-headed grad- uate of a New Hampshire college, doing more thinking in a month than an Esqui- mau in a lifetime, resists disease and stands like one of his native hills, calm and serene for almost a century. But some one will say : Is there, then, no danger of excessive study? Is por- ing over books twelve or fifteen hours a day the best tonic? Have young people never been injured by brain-work? There is, of course, the possibility of excess in study as in all other employ- Health 79 ments. But study is not dangerous nor destructive of the health except in rare instances. In most cases of poor health, apparently induced by hard study, im- pure air, want of proper exercise, social diversions, or something else, is the real cause. It is care, trouble, worry, disap- pointment, jealousy and hate that crush out life and hope. It is the exultant glow of " Something attempted, something done," which renews them. VI HABIT <* This law is the 7)iagistraie of a 7naiCs life.'''' Joseph Johnson. ' ' Habit is a cable ; we weave a thread of it every day, and at last we caiuiot break it.'''' Horace Mann. *' Use almost can cJiange the stamp of N'atnre.'''' William Shakespeare. VI HABIT T N the early history of periodical literature, Dr. Samuel Johnson wrote a series of allegories on familiar sub- jects for the Rambler. They attracted much attention and have been famous ever since. One of these allegories personifies education as a gentle queen and describes her solicitude that all her subjects should be free from the power of a tyrant named Habit. Habit was always lying in wait for the un- wary. As Education led her followers up the side of the mountains which lay in the pathway of learning, nothing was more noticeable than her frequent cautions to beware of Habit. She was always guarding them against this dan- gerous enemy and kept calling out to one and another, at every step, that 84 Work and Play Habit was ensnaring them ; that they would be under the dominion of Habit be- fore they perceived their danger ; and that those whom Habit should once enslave had little hope of regaining their liberty. This has been, from Dr. Johnson's day to the present time, the prevalent idea of Habit. Rousseau, in one of his oracular utterances, says that the only habit which a child should be permitted to form is to contract no habits whatever. Habit has been represented as a devour- ing monster, as a poisoned atmosphere, paralyzing effort, as a treacherous dwarf, ready to develop a giant's strength at an unguarded moment. " Habit, at first, is but a silken thread, Fine as the light-winged gossamers that sway In the warm sunbeams of a summer^s day ; A shallow streamlet rippling o'er its bed, A tiny sapling ere its roots are spread. A yet unhardened thorn upon the spray, A lion's whelp that hath not scented prey, A little smiling child obedient led. Habit 85 Beware ! that thread may bind thee as a chain, That streamlet gather to a fatal sea, That sapling spread into a gnarled tree. That thorn, grown hard, may wound and give thee pain, That playful whelp his murderous fangs reveal, That child, a giant, crush thee 'neath his heel." But though these figures vividly por- tray the insidious nature of evil habits, there is another side of this truth far more agreeable to contemplate. The power of an evil habit is not necessarily greater than that of a good habit. The one aids and elevates as surel}^ as the other degrades. Indeed, the value of well formed habits can scarcely be over- stated. Habit gives ease and certainty to acts which would otherwise be diffi- cult or misdirected. It is nature's method of accumulating strength and vastly augmenting our powers of accom- plishment. Thus a bookkeeper foots up long col- umns of figures with an ease and cer- 86 Work and Play tainty which surprise us. He will add five or ten columns while we are adding one and not work half as hard as we do. A business man will run through a pile of a hundred letters, making a note on this one and a figure on that and assign them to different clerks to answer or record with wonderful rapidity and never make a mistake. Such men illustrate the value of habit. Give them some- thing else to do and they will show no such facility. Habit diminishes the time necessary for any given action. Compare the clumsy finger exercises of a beginner on the piano with the performance of a skilled pianist; compare the time the child spends over his first written words with the rapid writing of a college boy in taking notes of a lecture. As Mauds- ley says : " If an act became no easier after being done several times, no prog- ress could be made. The washing of his hands or the fastening of a button Habit ^j would be as difficult for a man as for a child." We may rejoice, then, that " man is a bundle of habits," for his habits mul- tiply his powers a hundredfold. The discipline of education consists largely in the formation of habits. The Duke of Wellington, referring to the familiar proverb concerning habit, ex- claimed : "Habit a second nature! Habit is ten times nature." Wellington was himself a fine illustration of habit and we can easily see how such a man, relying upon his trusted soldiers, might think so. The daily drill and the years of discipline completely fashion a man over again. Habits are of various kinds, physical, mental and moral, though many habits involve both mental and moral activities. Examples of bodily habits are peculiari- ties of gait or gesture, or skill in using some tool, as a saw or hammer, or an engraver's chisel. A child accidentally or by imitation falls into some peculiarity 88 Vv^ork and x^lay of speech and soon finds it fastened upon him as a fixed habit, difficult or impossi- ble to overcome. Or he may fail at the proper age to acquire the distinct articu- lation of certain sounds — that is, to get his vocal apparatus to do its full work — and so he will always lisp, or have some other peculiarity of speech. In the same way people form their own individual handwriting, almost as characteristic as their faces, the result of habit. Manners are habits. A courteous bearing is not merely the expression of the man for the moment ; it is the record of his attitude of mind for years. If he would enter a room or say good-morn- ing gracefully, he must do it uncon- sciously. We cannot do anything well till we can do it without thinking. Thus a boy does not really know how to swim till he can swim. Complete knowledge in many such things implies an estab- lished habit. Our education and experi- ence ought to train us to make as many Habit 89 useful actions as possible habitual and automatic. The details of our daily life usually follow a routine. People some- times regret this, but we are fortunate that it is so. Why should we waste our energies in deciding the same questions everyday? The good old maxim, "a time and a place for everything " is the crystallization of a hundred good habits. Who is more miserable than one in whom nothing is habitual but inde- cision? In one of Professor Huxley's books the story is told of a discharged soldier who was so accustomed to the military drill that he would always suit the action to the word of command. One day, a wag who saw him carrying home his dinner called out "Attention ! " Where- upon the soldier instantly brought his hands down and dropped his mutton and potatoes in the gutter ! When a pupil begins to play the violin, a book is often placed under his right armpit which he 90 Work and Play is to hold fast by keeping the upper arm tight against his body. This prevents his swinging his elbow awkwardly as he pla3^s. In the same way, mechanical devices are employed to prevent bad habits or mannerisms in the young pianist, singer and speaker. Habit implies an accumulation of energy by repeated actions till a mental faculty or a bodily organ is predisposed or held — habihis — to act in a certain manner. The mind repeats its activities with a constant tendency to perform each process in the same way it has acted before and with a constantly increasing facility. Habit steadies and gives strength. It gives mo- mentum and finish to every act. We have truly learned not that which we can be examined upon, but that which has been absorbed into our habits of thought. A boy begins to be a gentleman by remem- bering to perform certain courtesies ; he really is one when these acts become so habitual that he performs them uncon- Habit 91 sciously. He begins to be morally up- right when he tries to treat his school- mates and others kindly and fairly ; he really becomes so when the habit has ripened into character. " Sow an act and you reap a habit, Sow a habit and you reap a character." Habits are formed largely in youth ; they constitute one's personality. By the time one is twenty-five, often much earlier, you see the professional bearing and habit settling down upon him. Cer- tain little mannerisms indicate that he is a young doctor, or minister, or lawyer, or commercial traveler. And still earlier do one's habits, his looks and his man- ners, point him out as studious or earnest or superficial or fast. No one can say that he will do a thing only once. The very act of doing it — the act which was to be his first and his last of the kind — makes him weaker to resist the tempta- tion w^hile it increases its power. 92 Work and Play In *' Sandford and Merton " the story is told of a young man who purchased a handsome memorandum book every day and immediately proceeded to fill it with good resolutions, one on a page. When- ever one of his resolves was broken he hastened to tear out the leaf on which it was written. All of his books which were more than a few days old consisted of empty covers ! None of his good purposes were maintained long enough to yield a habit. Too often is it thus with men's best intentions. They fail at the very outset. Professor Bain has sug- gested several excellent maxims for the benefit of those who are tr3ang to estab- lish a good habit, or overcome a bad one. In the first place give the desired habit as strong an initiative as possible. Its beginning should be an event worthy of note. No other engagements or allure- ments should be permitted to conflict with it. Give it all the momentum you can in Habit 93 the outset in order that it may not break down before it has had time to be forti- fied by repetition. In the second place, permit no excep- tion until the habit is well rooted in life. Each inducement overcome makes the next conquest easier. Moral habits imply the presence of two hostile pow- ers. Never lose a battle ; for a step in the wrong direction costs all that has been gained and makes a new start more difficult. Every time a resolve evapo- orates without result is worse than a chance lost. The third maxim is that we should seize the first opportunity to act on every good resolution. Good sentiments or in- tentions are of no value if the will is not able to hold the position it has chosen in the various concrete cases as they arise. Keep the faculty of effort strong, if need be, by a little gratuitous exercise. What is needed is not emotion, but manly deeds. 94 Work and Play Such things as smoking, drinking and opium-eating are sometimes spoken of as physical habits ; they are even called diseases. Of course they have their physiological side ; their effects are often very marked. But all such habits begin m separate actions which are free and voluntary. They are therefore moral habits. The use of the stimulant is entirely within the field of personal control ; the effects of the use are entirely outside this field. Men often foresee and regret consequences which they could avert if they were willing to deny them- selves. They crave the indulgence even though they know that it is wearing the ruts of habit deeper and deeper. In the formation of these habits the will does ver}^ little in the outset, but it surren- ders much. Each time the surrender is made the will grows weaker and the physical excitability becomes greater. At length the craving is irresistible and the dominion of the will over that feature Habit 95 of the bodily life is abandoned. Then the habit may be truly called physical, for in that particular the person has ceased to be a man and has become an animal, or a thing. His intelligence draws helplessly back while his appetite drives him on. What could be more pit- iable ! *' Conceive," says Coleridge, " a poor, miserable wretch, who for many years has been attempting to beat ofT pain by a constant recurrence to the vice which reproduces it. In short, conceive whatever is most wretched, helpless, and hopeless, and you will form as tolerable an idea of my state as it is possible for a good man to have." If, now, it be asked what is the secret of the wonderful power of habit, why habits are so easily formed in youth, and why they are so persistent, I answer that I believe the true answer, so far as we can go in our explanation, has been found during the last few years. The mind uses nervous force in all g6 Work and Play its activities. Every time an act is per- formed this nerve-force makes, as it w^ere, a track for itself along which it will run more easily next time, and after a few repetitions it is difficult to make the nerve-force run in any other way. Now, in the economy of nature, the use of the hands in labor or athletics will no more surely harden the muscles and make cal- lous spots on the palms than it will cause the nervous force to run along certain lines and result in certain regular move- ments. And when one thinks the same thing happens ; the nerve force is wear- ing channels for itself — mental habits are forming. And if one talks, habits of speech are forming. If he acts, habits of life are forming. And thus the new psychology of which some good people have been afraid is, as Professor James has shown, the strong- est ally of sound moral instruction. Every right action helps to form a right habit which is a source of strength ; every Habit 97 wrong action tends to break down a good habit or establish a bad one. In the play, Rip Van Winkle excuses him- self for each new drink by saying, " We won't count this time." So young men say nowadays. Well, they may not count it, their friends may not count it, kind heaven may not count it ; but it is being counted none the less. Down among the cells of the brain and along the lines of the nerves, the molecules and fibers are steadily registering and storing it up against the time of the next temptation. And how often the account becomes too heavy for the man to pay, and, try as he will, he cannot reform ! He has been running in debt to nature till he is morally insolvent. But, fortunately, it is not our mistakes and sins alone that are thus registered. Every right choice leaves its impress ; every manly decision is counted no less certainly. The youth who resists the temptation to shirk to-day makes it easier 98 Work and Play to do good work to-morrow. Industry, integrity and self-control may become so habitual that temptation along these lines cannot move us, and even happi- ness and cheerfulness ma}^ become habits by always looking on the bright side. The student who keeps faithfully busy each day may rest assured of the final result. The little molecules will find their appropriate places in his brain as certainly as they will in a cr3^stal or a flower. Only let him persevere in whole- some effort and study and he will cer- tainly find as the years glide by that right mental activities have become mental habits, and right moral activities have become moral habits, and have given him strength to take his place among the strong and successful men of his genera- tion. He will have some battles to wage, but he will win, and it will do him good to \vin them. There is a fable of a Nor- man captain who inherited all the virtues, Habit 99 — courage, sagacity, foresight, persever- ence, whatever they were, — of the per- sons slain by him in battle. Thus only could he grow strong. This fable be- comes fact in the life of every one who conquers an evil habit or acquires a good one. LofO. VII THE COST OF FOUNDATIONS •Too low they build who build beneath the stars.'''' Edward Young. ' Souls ai'e built as temples are, — Based on truth'' s eternal law. Sure and steadfast, without flaw, Thro2igh the sutishine, througJi the snows, Up and on the building goes ; Every fair thing fluids its place. Every hard thing lends a grace. Every hand may make or mar^ VII THE COST OF FOUNDATIONS 'T^HE cost of foundations is proverbial ; it is often discouraging. When a man who proposes to build a new house first looks over the plans and estimates, he finds that the artistic features of win- dows, porch and roof will add compara- tively little to the expense, but that the solid masonry, buried deep out of sight, is the most costly part of the building. In all ages deep and secure foundations have been sought for structures which were to endure. Those whose base was weak have long since disappeared, but the Pyramids and the Parthenon and many another ancient edifice will testify, for ages yet to come, to the skill and foresight of the men who laid their in- destructible foundations. The walls of the Board of Trade build- I04 Work and Play ing in Chicago are said to rest upon huge granite pillars, fifty feet long, filled round with great beds of concrete. Other towering buildings in that city have still stronger foundations. Seven of the twen- ty millions which the capitol at Albany has cost were expended before the first story was reached. Its stately roof might almost have been buried in the great excavation which was made to receive its sub-structure. When it was pro- posed to build a lighthouse on Minot's Ledge at the entrance of Boston harbor, it was found that the rock was uncovered only twenty minutes a day, at low tide. It took two years, at great cost, to shape the sea-worn surface to receive the tower ; it took five years more to lay the first courses and attach them securely to the rock. Then one year sufficed to com- plete the tower and place in position one of the most celebrated lights which flashes its rays along the Atlantic coast. The young student often stands dis- The Cost of Foundations 105 heartened at the cost of an education. It will take so many years, he complains, to go through college, and then there are other years of preparation to follow. He wants to be in business or profes- sional life at once. In his eagerness to be a man among men he is tempted to take a'* short cut " in education. Why should he not enter at once upon the study of his profession? Why spend so much time upon general and disciplinary branches? Why are they so important? If he could save four years in preparing for his life-work what a gain it would be! Most 3^oung men have such thoughts as these. They are impatient of prelim- inaries. They are interested in whatever bears upon their future calling, but dis- posed to criticize and question studies and methods of work which do not im- mediately contribute to prepare them for their calling. They want to be putting on the roof when they should be making io6 Work and Play the foundation strong. No doubt some of you often have feelings of this kind, for it must be admitted that while the number of college students is increasing rapidly in this country, the great majority of young men still refuse to take time for a college course. It is well therefore for us to bear in mind that the conditions under which men work have greatly changed during the last few years ; other changes are taking place. Competition has grown fiercer, personal rivalries and compari- sons are closer ; many of the old methods of carrying on business or conducting professional practice are out of date and no longer possible ; con- certed effort has taken the place of indivicTual action ; skilful leadership and foresight have become more and more important. In almost every direc- tion, the obstacles in the way of business or professional success have increased. If you are to do as well as your fathers The Cost of Foundations 107 have done, you must possess more than their abilities. But you need to do better, for standards have been raised. It takes more money to make a man rich than it used to take ; and in the • same way it takes more abihty to make him able, more learning to make him learned, more education to make him cultured. Many a man who would have risen to note a generation ago is only ordinary now and sinks out of sight. On the other hand, the possibilities which await the 3'Oung man of the highest ability and culture have greatly increased ; honors and emoluments have multiplied ; new opportunities for dis- tinguished service have sprung up. The world is in sore need of stroncr, useful men ; they have never been more loudly called for than at the present time. Formerly, the only opportunities offered to college graduates in this coun- try were found in the three " learned io8 Work and Play professions," the Christian ministry, law, or medicine : but now every department of science and almost every branch of manufactures requires its broadly trained scholars and experts, while the great business interests and enterprises de- mand a constantly increasing number of men of the highest ability and training to guide and direct their affairs. Not long ago a teacher's position, paying a salary of eighty-five dollars a month, became vacant in the state of Iowa, and in a short time six hundred and ten ap- plications were received from fifteen different states. But if a high position requiring unusual ability is to be filled, trustees and committees often spend many months searching for a suitable man. The crowding is all around the foot of the ladder ; the saying of Daniel Webster was never more strikingly true than it is to-day, that " there is plenty of room in the upper stories." The inference is therefore irresistible The Cost of Foundations 109 that every aspiring young man should lay his foundation of liberal study broad and deep. It is of course each one's duty to make the most of himself; higher considerations than those which have been suggested might be urged, but it is unnecessary to dwell upon them here. Only let us clearly understand that the obstacles in the way of the weak and inferior have multiplied, while new and attractive opportunities are con- stantly opening before the strong and well equipped. " To him that hath shall be given." But the fields of study have been greatly extended ; colleges offer much more to their students than formerly ; no one can pursue all the courses ; which shall we elect? Most students should seek personal advice in this matter; we can give here only one sug- gestion : Choose broadly ; do not specialize too early. Give your powers time to de- I lo Work and Play velop under favorable influences. Spe- cial training is best when it rests upon a broad and strong foundation of liberal study. Let us note a few corner-stones : 1. A well educated man in the comino- years will possess the power of concen- tration. He will be able to focus his mental energies and bring them to bear upon a definite point ; he will be able to hold them steadily to the matter in hand; his mental grip, while quiet and easy, will be firm. He will be able to give accurate and prolonged attention to the facts and phenomena presented. His studies will have made him familiar with the methods of investigation pur- sued in modern science ; and he will unconsciously employ them, as occasion arises, in the search for truth and the detection of error. 2. His powers of retention, his mem- ory and imagination, will also be trained ; he will be able to hold and organize his knowledge for ready use. The Cost of Foundations 1 1 1 It will not be a mass of disconnected facts, but rather a comprehensive ac- quaintance with the laws and relations which underlie them. He will know the great events of history and the lessons which the}^ teach. The experi- ences of mankind, their struggles for freedom, and their groping for the truth, then- various phases of social evo- lution, will have their bearing for him upon present day problems. He will be, in the best sense, a well informed man. 3. His judgment will be trained. He will be able to discriminate clearly, to compare accurately and justly. His habit of thought will lead him constantly to distinguish between that which is essential and that which is accidental, between the real and the apparent, the true and the false, the good and the bad, the right and the wrong. His analysis of subjects will be clear and logical. Holding each deduction steadily in hand. 1 1 2 Work and Play he will be able to apply it till his chain of reasoning is strong and convincing. The habit of foresight will be formed, and, blending experience with expecta- tion, he will wisely judge of the future from the past. 4. In the coming years the well edu- cated man will possess the power of clear and easy expression. It is not enough to perceive, remember and think well ; mental processes lose their value in pro- portion as they fail of utterance. One's education is incomplete and disappoint- ing if it does not enable him to state his wishes or opinions distinctly and forcibly on any subject. Perhaps it is too much to say that he should do it equally well by voice or pen, but he must, at least, be able to join, at any time, in confer- ence or debate as occasion may arise. His weight and influence will depend largely on this power. Nothing is more central in a good education than a real acquaintance with one's native tongue. The Cost of Foundations 113 A knowledge of a dozen languages, of ancient and modern history and of all the sciences, would not compensate one for ignorance of English. No man's education is good until he has read dis- criminatingly in all the great depart- ments of American and EngHsh litera- ture. These are some of the foundation- stones which every college student should lay. Others might well be added; no one will claim, I am sure, that we have made the requirements too comprehensive, or set the standard too high for the liberally educated man. Whatever may be his professional or business attainments, whatever intimate and minute familiarity he may subse- quently acquire with any special study or calling, he will need, and ought to possess at the outset, all the qualifica- tions which we have outlined. Nothing less will constitute him a well rounded and well trained man. 9 114 Work and Play As we enter upon the work of a col- lege year, new hopes and purposes spring up within us. Aspiration is quickened ; thoughts at once joyous and serious fill our minds. Let us see to it that these desires shall not be fleeting and evanescent. Whatever else the coming months may fail to bring, they need not and should not fail to strengthen our moral fiber — our true manliness. Dr. Arnold of Rugby was accustomed to estimate his students less by their intellectual attainments than by their personal character and stamina. He urged upon them " moral thoughtful- ness ; " their real improvement would be evinced by their conduct. It is natural for youth to act from impulse ; maturing years and discipline should bring reflec- tion, a thoughtful regard for every in- terest, not forgetting our own. Let none of us think that, because w^e are well and strong, we may therefore disre- gard the conditions of good health, or The Cost of Foundations 115 that because we have talent we may neglect the means of intellectual growth, or that because we are away from home we may relax the principles of rectitude or the rules of gentlemanly intercourse. Nowhere do actions ripen into habits more rapidly than in college. Any edu- cation is weak and narrow which does not make us kind, considerate and ap- preciative. And let us not suppose that the old- fashioned, homespun virtue of industry is less needful in college than in other places. Nowhere is the loss of time more disastrous, nowhere are the temp- tations to waste it more frequent. Pleas- ant companionship, diversions, indolence and love of ease are all liable to en- croach upon the hours of work. The result is poor and hurried preparation of lessons, neglect of college and society exercises. And more serious than this loss is the habit of slipshod work which is thus formed and the willingness to be 1 1 6 Work and Play satisfied with less than the best that one can do. Our future character and quality, our moral stamina and force of will depend upon the habit of doing our best every time. And to this comprehensive virtue of industr}^ we need to add another plain and unpretending but fundamental trait — that of earnestness. The lukewarm man, the student who is half awake and half asleep, will never accomplish any- thing. It is natural for youth to be enthu- siastic ; nothing is more becoming. And yet, many young people, college boys among them, have conceived the idea that it is iii bad form to be very much in ear- nest about any thing. ** Harvard indif- ference," as the Nation called it, was al- most a fad in many colleges a few years ago. It has not disappeared from some of them yet ; but it is going. There is no room in any college for a Nil Adinirari society. It you have strong muscles and a bounding pulse, act as if The Cost of Foundations 117 you had them. Why should a young man belie his abounding vitality? Why affect a supercilious unconcern, or en- gage with sluggish indifference in those things which should elicit earnest pur- pose and enthusiasm? Why live in intellectual hovels when we might live in palaces? The preparation for college is cen- tered upon the scholastic requirements for admission ; the requisites in those things which pertain to character are too often overlooked. The higher insdtu- tion must supplement, as it can, the work of the preparatory years. Great temptations beset a college boy in the comparative freedom of his student life. If he has been sheltered from evil influ- ences at home, or if he has not learned to resist them, can he stand against them now? Sooner or later he must meet them. Is he equal to the responsibility of self-direction? Some evening when he is with a lot of friends, can he raise 1 1 8 Work and Play his protest if something is proposed which he knows to be wrong? And if he is unable to stop it, can he separate himself and go to his room w^hile his friends enjoy themselves? Can he com- pel his reluctant energies and faithfully perform his work when temptations to shirk it press upon him? Can he turn away from the allurements of vice when he sees no danger of discovery or dis- grace? Are his habits and integrity guarded by firm principles? For most of us there need be no doubt concerning these things ; if some are weak let those who are strong throw about them a manly protection and care. Such are the foundations upon which we need to build. They cost much in self-denial, in modest thoughtfulness, in patient and earnest work. But they enable us to build a comely and endur- ing structure. Upon them our lives may rise in symmetry and stand un- shaken by time or tempest. They af- The Cost of Foundations 119 ford ample compensation for every sac- rifice in the consciousness of purity, integrity and uprightness. And they give us faith in ourselves and faith in the future that we shall realize its inspir- ing possibilities. VIII UNCONSCIOUS EDUCATION ^'■Love is ever the beginning of knowledge, as fire is of light.'''' Thomas Carlyle. ' '■A desire of knowledge is the natural feeling of mankind ; a?id every human being whose nmid is not debased, will be willing to give all that he has to get knowledge P Samuel Johnson. * ' Repose and cheerfulness are the badge of the gentleman — repose in energy. '''' R. W. Emerson. VIII UNCONSCIOUS EDUCATION W E all understand that education is a growth, a development. The mind is not a storehouse to be filled or a ma- chine to be set in motion ; it is a spiritual principle, putting forth its own energies and working out its own ends. We also understand that in its pro- cesses of growth the mind is constantly- influenced by the things towards which its activity is directed. We grow to be like the things which we think most about. He who habitually thinks of low or selfish things will be himself debased, while the mind which is filled with noble conceptions tends to become strong and pure. One's likes and dislikes are usu- ally reflected in his habits of thought. I wish this morning to think with you for a few minutes along the line of the 124 Work and Play indirect or unconscious education we are constantly receiving. We recognize, of course, the value of the discipline gained in the recitation-room and laboratory. The intellectual powers are trained and developed by study and drill. The col- lege work stands first ; it is the soil into which our mental growth strikes its roots. But I remember that the experiment was once tried in the royal botanical gardens at Kew of planting a tree in a large box in which it grew rapidly for some years. It was then transplanted and, while the tree had gained hundreds of pounds in weight, the box of earth weighed nearly as much as when the tree was first set in it. The mind, like the tree, derives the materials of its growth largely from the atmosphere which surrounds it, and while, like the tree, it grows best in a good soil, it also requires certain other favorable conditions of air and warmth and sunshine. We will look for a mo- Unconscious Education 125 ment at some of these unconscious influ- ences of growth which are of special importance during our college days. The first of these is our environment. Buckle has pointed out in his great work on the Intellectual Development of Europe that the type of civilization developed by the people of each country is largely due to their natural surround- ings. Thus we find in the Swiss moun- taineer, the Scotch highlander, the Yar- mouth fisherman, and the Hollander guarding his dykes and canals, marked characteristics and differences due to their locality and the life which they lead. Most persons are deeply influ- enced by the home in which their child- hood is passed. Some 3^ears ago Wash- ington Gladden wrote to several hundred of the most successful men of his city asking them certain questions concern- ing their early life and habits of work. The replies showed that the boyhood of over ninety per cent, of these men was 126 Work and Play passed in the country, generally on a farm, and that they learned to work with their hands. They knew the value of money, and early acquired habits of thrift and industry. Many of them gained a college education under great difficulties. Now it does not follow because Daniel Webster could mow, or because Nathaniel P. Banks was a bobbin boy, that every student who has had like experiences will be a great man ; but it is true that the youth who has learned to apply himself, who is willing to " shovel," has a great advan- tage in the struggles of life. John M. Palmer, a man whom the people of Illi- nois have so long delighted to honor, mixed mortar and carried the hod to pay his expenses while he was attend- ing school. Who can estimate how much of the strength and lofty purpose which have always characterized Sena- tor Palmer, which characterized Abra- ham Lincoln and Richard Yates, and Unconscious Education 127 which have been evinced by most of the makers of the Great West, was due to their early environment, in which they learned industry, economy and self- reliance? But, besides these great foundation habits which are laid in 'our early asso- ciations, there are influences more subtle and pervasive which help to form our judgments and often our convictions and ruling ideas. A fine college campus is a perpetual teacher. Beautiful build- ings and their historic associations, great names and the deeds or places connected with them, and even the anniversaries which commemorate the birth of a nation or a hero stimulate our ambition and make it easier to do our best. Art and music and pleasant surround- ings improve our intellectual life. Re- fined tastes and courteous manners are silently absorbed ; rough habits steal up- on us unawares. If any of us suppose we can, without harm, permit our rooms 128 Work and Play to become repulsive with dirt and dis- order, it is a serious mistake. Carlyle says that he who lives like an animal becomes an animal. An atmosphere of refinement and courtesy is as necessary for intellectual and moral health as pure air is for our bodies. " He who drinks beer," says Emerson, " will talk beer." He who absorbs from his daily surround- ings — from the very atmosphere he breathes — an interest in science and lit- erature and scholarly themes is gaining an intellectual uplift which may deter- mine his career. Dr. Thomas Hill, for many years president of Harvard col- lege, used to say that if a man only rubbed his shoulders acjainst the colleo^e walls he would in four years receive no small part of a liberal education. Who can measure the influence exerted by the college literary societies, by college athletics, by the dormitor}^ life? It seems but a little thing to attend our daily chapel service, but the graduates Unconscious Education 129 of many a college will testify that this recognition throughout the college course of their dependence upon the heavenly Father's care has had a beniorn and abiding influence upon their lives. Companionship plays an important part in our education. The keenest ob- server of men and things that ever lived once said : "He that walketh with wise men shall be wise : but a companion of fools shall be destroyed," or, more lit- erally, " go to pieces ;" and the shrewd old Yankees used to say: "A man is known by the compan}' he keeps." The influence of our daily intercourse can hardly be overestimated. There are few characters so strong that they may not go to pieces under the disintegrating influence of evil associates. It v^^as not the brilliant society of Edinburgh but the smuggler boys of Kirkoswald that led Burns astray. The social atmosphere and customs amidst which we live have a silent but 10 130 Work and Play powerful influence upon our character and habits of thought. A young man once entered Oberlin College who was addicted to profanit}^ This vice was frowned upon in the college circles, and he soon gave it up. But returning at va- cation to his old associations he resumed the habit. When he went back to col- lege he stopped swearing, but in his vacation he always relapsed into pro- fanity. Many another young man is almost as fickle and characterless. Un- stable and chameleon-hued, he changes to suit the crowd he chances to be with. Every student should be sure of his backbone. What a pity that a popular maxim should advise us " when in Rome to do as the Romans do," as if we were to have no mind or principles of our own. The companionship which students have with one another in Chris- tian colleges is generally wholesome and invigorating, far better than they have out of college. But in most schools. Unconscious Education 131 cases may be found of that which abounds in every city and village throughout the land — the degradation of character by personal influence. The wise young man will therefore determine never to associate familiarly with those whose habits are bad or whose influ- ence will draw^ him down. But in college as in the outside world we are thrown together in various rela- tions. We must discharge these rela- tions. We cannot get rid of them if we would. We must meet various sorts of people and have constant relations with them. It is a grand thing to fulfil all the obligations which spring from our associations in the school, in business, in society. That life is exceedingly narrow and sheltered which does not come in contact with some corrupting influences. Well-rounded manhood im- plies strength and judgment safely to meet all sorts of men. Our associations are not wholly of our own choosing. 132 Work and Play They are largely the outgrowth of our occupation and place of residence. That youth is fortunate who is never thrown into corrupting associations ; he is more fortunate whose quick perception and firm principles prove a panoply of de- fense against every evil allurement. But while our associations are thus largely the result of circumstances, our friendships are peculiarly our own. No one need ever continue, or even form, an unworthy friendship. It is true that casual association leads to companion- ship, and companionship often ripens into friendship ; but what communion hath light with darkness, or what fel- lowship have truth and purity vv'ith falsehood and uncleanness? Prize your friends ; bring yourst-lf into closest sym- pathy with them ; enjoy them ; be ready to serve them, to make sacrifices for them ; but be sure, first of all, that they are worthy to enter into your life, and never give your confidence and aflec- Unconscious Education 133 tion to one whose influence will drag you down. " The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel ; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hvatched, unfledged comrade." And now to this warnlno; it is but fair to add the assurance that well assorted friendships contribute no less to our improvement than to our enjoyment. Bacon declares that a friend is another self, and a still higher authority says that as iron sharpens iron, so a man bricrhtens the countenance of his friend. Much of our success as well as our pleasure depends on our friends. In- deed, they are a necessity; we cannot get along without them. '^Untis homo^ niillus homo " is an old Latin proverb which concisely expresses the truth that one man alone is no man at all. He who tries to live without friends narrows his life and dwarfs his powers. Form no unworthy friendships, but do not 134 Work and Play become hermits. Let your powers of mind and heart expand under genial intercourse with those whom you can respect and love. One practical suggestion : There is no place where politeness is of more value than where it seems superfluous. Respect your friend's ideas and prefer- ences. Don't think you must be con- stantly setting him right or giving him advice. Some people seem to think they can say to their friends, face to face, such things as they say about strangers behind their backs. Don't have stock subjects of dispute which you are always liable to stumble upon. Cul- tivate the amenities even with your most intimate friends. A third source of unconscious educa- tion is to be found in our aims and ideals. These are the motives by which we are actuated. To a large extent they have already made us what we are. All good work, all high endeavors, are Unconscious Education 135 born of aspiration. *' Hope tells a flat- tering tale.'" Fancies light as air, springing from incidents which the world deemed trivial, have been cher- ished in the heart of a boy till they have made him great. Thought makes character. As a man " thinketh in his heart, so is he." He who does not think high things, whose imagination does not revel in glowing pictures of what he hopes to be and to do, will not achieve high things. Every youth has his day-dreams, his half-formed ideals. We cannot guard too closely this foun- tainhead of our aspirations. Thought quickly passes over into action. The ideal becomes the real. The germs of a pestilence in the body are not more active to destroy the health than false ideals are to corrupt the character. They poison the very springs of action, making of one a spendthrift or a libertine ; of another, a quack or a miser. Henry Schliemann, while still an er- 136 Work and Play rand-boy, resolved that he would one day unbury Troy. His bold purpose and the wide renown which it afterwards brought him were born of his boyish dreams. He would never have found Troy, he tells us, had it not been for the inspiration he caught while reading Homer. Robert Fulton, a young miniature- painter of seventeen, conceived the bold fancy that a ship might be propelled through the water by steam. Still prac- tising his art as a livelihood he went to London to study mechanics and to Paris to test his inventions. He endured un- told hardship and ridicule, and at length, after more than twenty years of study and experiment, he was triumphantly carried on his little ''Clermont" from New York to Albany. The youth who is strong enough to drive out all unworthy aims, who will make room for no ideals but those that are high and pure, is training himself Unconscious Education 137 towards a noble manhood and enduring success. He may never reach his ideal, for that will advance with his progress ; but, like hope, it will beckon him on and nerve him for still higrher achievement. «' Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll ! Leave the low vaulted past ! Let each new temple, nobler than the last. Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!" IX RESERVE POWER ^ '■There is nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness.'''' William Shakespeare. " Gentleness is power.'''' Leigh Hunt. ' ' The world is God's seed-bed. He has planted deep and inultitudinonsly , a?td jnany things there are which have ?wt yet co7?ie ?//.'" H. W. Beecher. IX RESERVE POWER OOME men are able to find valuable suggestions in events which to others seem trivial. General Garfield once said : ** When I was a freshman in college I looked out of my window before retiring one night and saw a light twinkling in the room of my principal competitor for the prize in mathematics. It gave me a hint which I was not slow to take, and I then and there determined to invest a lit- tle more preparation in the contest for the prize. I smile now as I recall the rivalry of those days, and the resolution to do a little more work which gained the much coveted prize, but I rejoice in the great truth which I then discovered, and which applies in business, in politics, in morals, in every relation in life, that a margin of unused resources is the best guarantee of integrity and success." 142 Work and Play If every student could learn the lesson which Garfield learned in his student days, it would be greatly to his advan- tage. Not that he might be taught how to beat his competitor and take a prize ; not merely that he might learn the value of thoroughness and continue to work until his lessons were learned, but rather that he might know that real strength consists largely in energy which is not used, that power held in reserve is often more effective than that which is applied and multiplies one's working-capacity many fold. This is a principle of far-reaching im- port, but one which men are very slow to learn — a paradox, constantly illus- trated in our daily life. People ignore it, or perhaps deny it, as they do the sayings of the Bible that " unto every one that hath shall be given" and "there is that scattereth, and yet increaseth," but they go right on making life's suc- cesses large or small in the same propor- Reserve Power 143 tion that they conform to this law. No one can escape it or set it aside ; the wise and fortunate man is he who adapts his life to it most completely. Nature teaches this truth on every side. The swinging of the tides would carry all the machinery of the world could it be utilized. A lump of earth or a drop of water holds imprisoned within itself latent forces which would lift mountains were they called into use. The sun gives out heat enough every hour to consume all the planets of the solar system. Even when the en- ergy is exerted and applied, it is the gentle and unnoticed forces which pro- duce the ixreatest effects. The boisterous winds sought in vain, in the fable, to rob the traveler of his cloak, but the genial sunshine soon made him cast it aside. The silent forces of vegetable growth lift from the soil or condense from the air the wonderful materials which cover the earth with verdure, fruits and for- 144 Work and Play ests, while other unseen forces gather from the land and sea the particles of water which refresh the fields and fill the lakes and rivers. In mechanics, the first condition of good work is ample power. A Corliss engine, capable of driving the machinery of a whole exposition, will cut tlie smallest screw or the finest watch- spring. The locomotive of a generation acfo worked with a full head of steam as it jerked and jolted a few cars slowly along ; but its modern successor, sweep- ing with its heavy train three times as fast across the continent, uses but half its power. The ''ocean greyhounds" never run at their full speed, but the ''tramp" steamer drives its engines to their utmost capacity during every hour of its tedious voyage. Still more conspicuous is this law in human aff'airs — in the great crises and emergencies of life. It is the general who knows that he is well supported who Reserve Power 145 can lead a resistless charge. It was the arrival of Blucher's reserves which won the field of Waterloo. It was the United States soldiers who enabled the New York police to suppress the draft- riots without striking a blow. At the Battle of Gettysburg, when that last ter- rific charge of the Confederate forces seemed about to break through Han- cock's lines, it was the brilliant dash of the Vermont reserves which lent new courage to the Union ranks and turned the tide of battle. When danger threatens, w^hen prudent counsels are needed, people eagerly turn to the man whose wisdom and streniith are most trusted. It is related by Emer- son that, whenever Lord Chatham spoke, those who listened felt that there was something finer in the man than anything which he said, and additional weight was thereb}^ given to every sentence \vhich he uttered. History abounds in records of men whose deeds bear no ade- ji 146 Work and Play quate proportion to the esteem in which they were heWby their contemporaries. Measured by abilit}^ displayed, intellect- ual or military achievements, America has had many greater men than Wash- ington ; but no one has ever yet arisen to dispute with him the foremost place in the nation's veneration and honor. Every community contains persons whose mere approval or dissent carries more influence than the ablest arguments of other less trusted advocates. The power of such men is, in a sense, latent; it is not consciously displayed and as- serted ; it makes itself felt without effort and often by unseen means. It has been said that '*the measure of power is the resistance of circumstance," but it is the felicity of reserve power to create cir- cumstances, or so to shape them that the crisis never comes and the battle is won before it is visibly joined. Men recog- nize their safe leader ; they find in him a power which they cannot, perhaps, Reserve Power 147 analyze but which they gladly acknowl- edge. His presence inspires confidence and his words are like a tonic. We have all seen the quiet poise, the modest self-assertion, of such men. In many things, we would be glad to take them for our models. We ask, What is this intangible, indefinable quality which men call reserve power? What is its secret? Can it be cultivated ? He would be bold who asserted that every man's power can be clearly explained. Too many factors contribute to it, some of which are diflicult to trace. But it is easy to point out certain fundamental ele- ments of personal power, native gifts and also fruits of training, open in vary- ing degree to every one, which become an unfailing aid and reinforcement to their possessor. I. A settled purpose contributes vastly to one's strength. It is a propelling force. A weak and vacillating will brings not only failure, but also the habit and ex- 148 Work and Play pectation of failure. It is the man who is dead in earnest that succeeds ; if baf- fled or obstructed in one direction, he tries another ; he sticks to his point till he carries it. Because he knows no such word as fail, because he habitually attains his end, he grows strong and irre- sistible. " Unto everyone that hath shall be given." It is a trite saying, but as true and as important as it is trite, that there can be no mastery over others until one has learned to govern himself. It is the man who holds his faculties in steady control in the ordinary affairs of life that accumulates a reserve, a force of will, to meet its crises. A quiet spirit and a quiet manner are great elements of strength. Excited or unruly souls yield to the spell of calm composure. Repose is not stagnation or inaction ; it is the serene mastery of one's self with an assurance which masters others. ''The shallow murmur, but the deep Reserve Power 149 are dumb," says Sir Walter Raleigh. The man who first declares his opinion when great issues arise seldom gains our confidence, while he who calmly waits till others have spoken and thoughtfully weighs every consideration commands our willing assent. Silence is sometimes more convincing than argument. A set- tled purpose, moreover, yields a steady progress. A spurt at the start may be good — there are times when it is indis- pensable — but it is usually the " unrest- ing, unhasting advance " that wins the day. We must have a quiet spirit if we would get the best out of ourselves. He who gains the mastery over a strong im- pulse, a quick temper, a sharp tongue, a roving imagination, little by little acquires an energy on which he can draw in time of need. Every such act of self-control is like a deposit in a savings-bank. Nature puts it out at interest and holds the accumulating fund. She makes him rich in will-power, in mental poise, — a 150 Work and Play reserve of energy for himself and a guar- antee to the world of fitness for her ser- vice and honors. 2. Simplicity augments one's strength. Men want the truth ; they want no re- servations or double-dealing. It is the man whose transparent course leaves no room for doubt that gains their confi- dence. People admire brilliancy, ap- plaud it, honor it, for a time ; but they tie to genuineness. They want reliabil- ity ; they trust their interests to the man who is straightforward. Temptations to conceal or evade are constantly pre- sented. Duplicity is the recourse of weak men ; it takes strength and charac- ter to resist the inducements to assume false colors. But the man who has the courapfe of his convictions and unflinch- ingly stands by them is not only safer than the trickster, but is also gaining strength which will support him in every emergency. There is no higher great- ness than the greatness of simplicity. Reserve Power 1 5 i 3. Ample intellectual resources afford a constant reserve. Ignorance is always at a disadvantage. Most of the prob- lems which men meet are simplified and made easy by fuller information, by acquaintance with related subjects. It is marvelous how almost ever}" item of knowledge sooner or later becomes directly serviceable ; and how, if not immediately used, it contributes indirect- ly to help one in his work. A New York capitalist recently said that his col- lege education had been of constant ser- vice to him in meeting men, by enabling him to feel that he was their intellectual peer and at no disadvantage in point of culture or discipline. He thus had confidence in taking steps or making decisions where he would otherwise have been in doubt. There can be no question that people have greater confidence in a leader and hold him in higher esteem if they are sure of his mental equipment. Thorough 152 Work and Play training, then, broad culture and infor- mation, are a constant reserve which give a man power in every department of service. 4. Executive ability constitutes an im- portant element. It is interesting to observe the differences among men in this regard. Some work with great rapidity and for many hours at a time ; their powers of accomplishment are won- derful. Others can do but little ; the limit of their working capacity is quickl}^ reached. There are few important posi- tions which do not at times call for ability to do a large amount of work in a short time. Such conditions are not favorable to good work. But speed is in- dispensable ; there is no time for reflection or delay ; the opportunity will soon be past ; the best possible use must be made at once of the time afforded. An editor, for example, finds it necessary to write on an important matter just before the paper goes to press ; a lawyer has to 4 Reserve Power 153 make a brief, or prepare to try a case, on very short notice ; a preacher or a statesman must speak on an important occasion with little time for preparation ; an author must furnish an unusual amount of copy within a limited period ; an officer in a great corporation is unex- pectedly called on for a statement or estimate covering large amounts. In these and multitudes of other cases a man's opportunity comes and is quickly gone ; and his value depends upon his capacity for rapid work, for prolonged effort. If this has been tested and proven it becomes to him a reserve power, enhancing the esteem in which he will be held. One's college da3's ought, at least, to lay the foundation of this power. No one believes in cramming; hurried and superficial preparation of a lesson is only to be condemned. But the ability to work rapidly, to prepare a lesson thor- oughly in a short time, is one of the 154 Work and Play most desirable results of a college train- ing. It ought to be attained as early as possible in one's .student life. It stands in sharp contrast with the easy-going procrastination which creeps upon too many of us unawares. 5. It would be a serious omission should I fail to add that an intelligent and unwavering faith is an important element in one's reserve power. Faith in one's self, in one's faculties and powers and their ability to respond to the demands which will be made upon them, is right and necessary. It is not o'erweening confidence or conceit, but a calm assurance of one's strength. It is simply trusting one's intellectual powers and relying upon them for their necessary service, just as one trusts his eyes or his ears and knows that they will do their proper work. Faith in others is also right. Not that we are to put our- selves in the power of strangers, or neglect proper precautions ; but simply Reserve Power 155 that we need to trust the men with whom we work and that mutual confidence and interdependence are necessary and pro- mote our peace and efficiency. Faith in truth, faith in righteousness, faith in a higher Power whicli makes for right- eousness, faith in a heavenly Father, who loves and cares for his children and who will not desert them in their times of stress and difficulty, contributes, as nothing else can, to one's reserve strength. It was this faith which gave calm assurance and irresistible vigor to Cromwell and his Ironsides, to Luther as he nailed his theses to the church door in Wittenberg, to Savonarola, to John Knox and to every champion of justice and freedom. There is nothing higher or nobler in one's education than to learn the power of a living faith. It is like awaking to one's possibilities and resources. It enables a man to make the most of himself and of his life, to inspire confidence and bring out the 156 Work and Play best in his fellow men, and it enables him to stand in hours of struggle or of darkness, with, his hand firmly grasping unseen strength and to hear a voice assuring him of divine guidance and sup- port. X THE SCHOLAR IN PUBLIC LIFE " States?na7i, yet friend of tnUJi ! of soul sincere. In action faithful a7id in ho7ior clear ; EjtJiobled by hijnself, by all approved. And praised, unenvied, by the muse he loved ^ Alexander Pope. X THE SCHOLAR IN PUBLIC LIFE 'T^HE death of Gladstone (which is re- ported in this morning's papers) suggests some practical thoughts upon which it cannot be unprofitable for us to dwell for a few moments. His charac- ter is so exalted and his career so illus- trious that comment and eulogy seem superfluous and out of place. His deeds need no explanations or defence ; it is unnecessary even to recount them. His splendid attainments and personal worth scarcely admit of commendation or re- view. We instinctively feel that analy- sis of character and motives would be- little and obscure a statesmanship which has long stood forth so grand and clear as to be recognized and honored all over the world. But his life affords some very practi- i6o Work and Play cal lessons of preat value to us as stu- dents and young men. Whatever other traits college boys may have, they are pretty sure to love a hero. They admire a great man and are thrilled by his achievements. It is not easy to be great even in college days, and the enthusiasm of students flows spontaneously for the man who has won distinction. You do well, 3^oung gentlemen, to study a great life and to catch the inspiration which it affords. Though the contemplation may not make you great, it will surely help as well as please you. From studying eminent men, one may gain an impulse to make his own life sublime. We have time this morning to note but two of the valuable lessons which the life of Gladstone suggests ; I wish it were possible for us to give even these two the careful consideration which they deserve. And, first, the career of Gladstone teaches us the value of a long life. The Scholar In PubHc Life i6i His eighty-nine years nearly span the century. When he was born, Napoleon had just effected his divorce from Jose- phine, and Waterloo was six years in the future. Scott had just published *'Marmion;" Macaulay was a boy of nine. Disraeli, his rival in politics, over whom, three quarters of a century later, he was to pronounce so beautiful a funeral oration, was four years old. The world had yet to wait another de- cade before it could record the births of Dickens and Thackeray, Tyndall and Huxley, Helmholtz and Pasteur and all the rest of that galaxy of scientists and thinkers who have made this century so remarkable in the annals of scientific discovery and popular progress. Glad- stone himself declared, a dozen vears ago, that the increase of wealth during the present century exceeds the accu- mulations of all the centuries which have preceded it, and that the inventions and scientific discoveries of the nineteenth 12 1 62 Work and Play century surpass in number and impor- tance those of all the previous ages. What a privilege to have lived so long and to have had so large a part in such progress ! The v^orld has many maxims which admonish us to '' live while we do live," to ** seize the present" and leave the future to take care of itself. Excellent people sometimes resolve to do certain work or live in certain ways even if it should shorten their lives, but no one ever yet accomplished more work or got more out of life in the long run by disre- garding the conditions of health, while many have sacrificed their future enjoy- ment and efficiency and even their lives by mistaken conditions of work or by neglect of the simplest precautions. And so it is gratifying to learn that Glad- stone laid the foundation for his many years of earnest work in his youth ; that he expected to live to a good old age and deliberately planned for it ; that The Scholar in PubHc Life 163 from his early manhood to his latest years he rejoiced in the strength which could swing a scythe or fell a tree, and cultivated it. His example as well as his words commend physical culture. The ideal student of a generation ago, with his flabby muscles and pale cheeks, has given place to the hard-fisted fellow who can play center rush on the football team, while the average college man of to-day can do and does far more intel- lectual work than his old-time predeces- sor. His eyes and brain work fewer hours, but they accomplish more. We have learned to recognize the value of blood and breath — the necessity of a sound physical basis. But the tempta- tion is still presented to many students to neglect needful exercise, to abandon the sports and amusements essential to the best mental tone. It is fortunate that such students should be reminded of these things by the example of so illus- trious an intellectual worker as Glad- 164 Work and Play stone, a man whom no one has ever ac- cused of mental unproductiveness or mis- use of time. His life illustrates the fact that intel- lectual pursuits are conducive to health. He was never weighted by physical in- firmity. He believed that change of work is the best rest for a scholar. He had in his library three tables, at one of which he studied the problems of poli- tics, at another, the problems of litera- ture, and at a third, the problems of religion. He accumulated a library of twenty-five thousand volumes which were filled with the notes, references and impressions of the reader. His days of recreation and leisure were largely devoted to profound study of classical authors. Biblical interpretation and his- torical research. But, in all his enthusi- asm for study, he never forgot proper physical limitations or enfeebled his body by neglect of sleep or exercise. If any of you have a theory, as young The Scholar in Public Life 165 men sometimes have, that the factor of time may be disregarded, do not cherish it. A man's work is cumulative ; each noble deed illustrates and adorns those which have preceded it. Gladstone has been a great man, a famous man, for more than half a century ; but how dif- ferent would have been his place in his- tory if he had burned life's candle at both ends and died, like Byron or Shel- ley or Poe, in the prime of his manhood ! What an inspiration to think of him as living on, adding decade to decade, wit- nessing the changes and the progress of the passing years which he had done so much to promote, and girding himself again and again to meet the new issues of public and private life as they arose ! The memorable campaign for home rule in Ireland was conducted by Glad- stone when he was seventy-seven. He bore his defeat as calmly as if it had been a victory, began at once the culti- vation of public sentiment in favor of 1 66 Work and Play needed reforms, and at eighty-four re- turned to the premiership to resume the struggle and carry it to a practically victorious issue. Some of you have heard our honored associate, who sits upon this platform, talk about the art of longevity — an art which he most beautifully illustrates in his own person — and have been enabled to realize how much an added score or two of years mean. Think what they mean to the man himself whose ripened powers enjoy the best which life's oppor- tunities afford ; think how much they mean to his family and friends and how much they mean to the community in which he lives. How fine is the honor which is everywhere paid to such an old age ! Do not let any one persuade you, young gentlemen, that it is of little ac- count. And do not forget that the foundation of vitality and endurance on which it must be built is laid in early life. One of America's most distin- The Scholar in PubHc Life 167 ffuished scholars was frail and in feeble health in his youth, but well-directed ex- ercise gave tone and vigor and vitality. With robust health came increased mental power, and now for nearly half a century he has been an honored leader in his department of research. If he who achieves distinction may be envied, how much more should he be deemed fortunate who wears his laurels for many years ! The second lesson which I wish to draw from the career of Gladstone is the opportunity and the duty which polit- ical life offers to young men of the finest talent and culture. The scholar in poli- tics is an unfamiliar sight in this country. The selection of party candidates, the management of political campaigns and the shaping of party policies are gener- ally deemed too coarse and belligerent business to attract refined and scholarly men. Practical politics has become al- most a synonym for dubious deals and 1 68 Work and Play trading. They bring one into close con- tact or sharp antagonism with very unattractive characters ; they expose him to misrepresentation and slander ; they present great temptations. But for precisely these reasons they need the up- lifting influence of young men of the high- est grade. It is time that the positions of power and responsibility should be wrested from the corrupt and incompetent and filled by men of ability and honor. And so the colleges w^elcome every move- ment which aims at the overthrow of a political boss or the education of the people in political freedom and righteous- ness. Every lover of liberty desires that the young men of thought and character, who year by year go forth from college halls, should be enlisted in defense of the nation's honor and welfare. We ap- plaud the youth who volunteers to follow the nation's flag and fight, if need be, on the field of battle ; but who shall say that he is less worthy who fights for the pre- The Scholar in Pubhc Life 169 servation of the nation's integrity and honor at home? The men of the present generation are too much absorbed in their own af- fairs. Business and professional life are too engrossing ; no time remains for public problems. The spoilsman and the schemer have had control. Our relief from political evils depends upon our young men. We need a generous infu- sion into the body politic of clear-sighted observers and students of public affairs. Ignorance and apathy go hand in hand. If men were better informed they would be more interested. Few men become statesmen or even politicians who do not gain an interest in politics in early life. Humboldt once said: "Plant your re- forms in the schools ; formation is better than reformation ;" and in the same spirit the college exhorts her students and young graduates to be interested in politics. The problems of democratic government are neither few nor simple ; they require 170 Work and Play profound study and should elicit lifelong enthusiasm. Most American statesmen of the better type began their political experience in their youth, seeming almost to inherit their career. Gladstone was trained to statecraft from his boyhood. He relates that when he was a lad of twelve, his father began for him a systematic course of instruc- tion in the science of government. An hour was devoted each day to a lesson in politics and finance. Guests at the Gladstone house were surprised to see the father, an eminent banker and a member of parliament, proposing grave and complicated problems, which the son examined and discussed with marvelous ability and enthusiasm. When, a few years later, he was a student at Eton his political training was continued, and when at Oxford he gained no small celebrity as a debater and orator. English politics and civil service were more corrupt in those days than ours The Scholar in Public Life 171 have ever been ; but this only made him more eager to enter public life, and at the early age of tv^enty we find him sit- ting in parliament and tw^o years later he was named by Peel as junior lord of the treasury. He was a tireless worker and threw himself with ardor into the strug- gles of that troubled period of English history. It is not easy to exaggerate his work or the value of the services which then and all his life through he rendered to England and to civilization, but we fail to estimate them at their true worth if we forget that they were lifted far above the plane of self-seeking ambi- tion. His steadfast aim was to brincr Christian ideals into politics. His whole career was an attempt to reconcile poli- tics with the Sermon on the Mount. He boldly asserted that the state must have a conscience and the reforms which he proposed sought to carry legislation up to the level of ethical standards. His interest and his sympathies embraced the 172 Work and Play world. He learned of the sufferings of prisoners in Naples, devoted a parlia- mentary recess to an investigation of their condition, saw these patriots in their dungeons, and then declared, in a letter of denunciation which aroused the world, that their treatment was a blot upon civilization and humanity. His utterances had the needed effect and, in after years, the Italians were wont to call him one of the founders of free Italy. And when, in the year 1896, the nations of Christian Europe looked with averted eyes while those terrible massacres were carried on in Armenia, it was the voice of the aged Gladstone which fitly charac- terized the ''great assassin" and com- pelled him to yield to the indignation of Christendom. And so, while we honor Gladstone, let us not fail to catch an inspiration from his example. Had he merely followed his scholarly tastes and preferences, we should never have heard of him in public The Scholar In PubHc Life 173 life. He would have avoided its con- tamination and unseemly struggles. He would have devoted himself to the more congenial fields of literature, which offered him distinction without the attacks and reverses of politics. But how grand- ly has he been rewarded for his sacri- fice ! Devoting himself to the public good, he has gained a fame which kings and conquerors might envy. Could the young men of this genera- tion in America catch his spirit, our polit- ical ills would vanish. The wretched notion that the civil service is a sort of government ambulance in which the lame and the weary may ride, and that still more detestable theory that public office is a reward of party service, would pass away like a miasma before the sun. Our consuls and other representatives in foreign countries would cease to discredit us in the eyes of the world ; committees to investigate government frauds and scandals would no longer present humili- 174 Work and Play ating reports, the righteousness which exalteth a nation would speedily come, and the hope of the Pilgrim and the Puritan would be realized. XI CASTLES IN SPAIN ' ' Wlioi I could not sleep for cold 1 had fire enough in my brai?i, And builded with roofs of gold My beautiful castles in Spain.''"' J. R. Lowell. We are sitch stuff as dreams are made oji.'''' William Shakespeare. ■ Yotir yo2ing 7nen shall see visions.'''' Joel. XI CASTLES IN SPAIN piTZHUGH LUDLOW relates that in his boyhood, the drug-store of his friend Anderson possessed such a fasci- nation for him that he wanted to taste everything he found there. He spent many leisure hours examining myste- rious drugs, inquiring into their composi- tion and their effects. One day he dis- covered, among the new goods, a little jar labeled Canahis Indica. Pleased with its aromatic smell, he proceeded to inves- tigate its other properties. He learned from the dispensatory that it was famil- iarly known as hasheesh, was used in cases of lockjaw, and that it possessed an extraordinary power of producing dreams. He forthwith rolled up a good- sized pellet and swallowed it. A few hours later, as you will antici- 13 178 Work and Play pate, he fell into an ecstatic dream. The room in his modest home, where he was sitting, began to enlarge and to grow surprisingly beautiful ; the hall became an enchanting vista and the stairs a magnificent avenue up which he could triumphantly ascend. His delight and anticipations knew no bounds. No young man ever before possessed such talent, deserved such consideration or enjoyed such distinction. The rich, the gay, the famous hastened to do him honor. The very atmosphere was radiant with hope and promise. He was about to summon the poor and oppressed of all lands to receive the golden rain which dripped from his fingers, when the famil}^ physi- cian administered a timely sedative and relieved him of his heavy responsibility. Scarcely less extravagant and improb- able are the day-dreams and air-castles of many a boy as he looks eagerly for- ward into life. His pictures lack pro- portion ; his events are unreal ; his Castles in Spain 179 projects are visionary. Many people deem such fancies worthless and look upon them much as they would upon the overwrought excitement of a hasheesh- eater. They are constantly exhorting us to be practical and warning us against vain hopes and illusions. Some of them would almost eliminate ima2;ination and poetry and bright fancies from our life. They would deprive youth of its ro- mance and fervor. They think it would thus avoid the temptations, mistakes and disappointments which an unfettered im- agination sometimes brings. But, for my part, I am sorry for the boy who has no day-dreams ; indeed, I am sorry for the man whose daily life is not cheered and brightened by many unreal fancies. It is true that his castles in the air may be as fictitious as the " Castles in Spain " of which George William Curtis has told us ; but like the castles in Spain they will be a source of perpetual delight, however fictitious they may be. i8o Work and Play Though he should live to be fourscore, I should wish that the Hght of glad an- ticipations might never cease to illumine his path. But we have a more serious reason to be sorry for the youth who has no day- dreams — a reason which is very funda- mental. All good work, all our best endeavors, all the worthy achievements of life, are born of aspiration. No man ever rises above his ideal ; high aims are the first condition of excellence. The man with low standards, the man with commonplace ideals and expectations, will do only commonplace work. If one's life is confined to the present, there is no room for dreams ; but if there is a Beyond in it, he will assuredly dream about it. If in life's morning he looks out upon a future which seems to rise peak above peak, he will long to climb them and scan the more distant horizon. The heart is not satisfied with the vision of to-day; it will again demand posses- Castles In Spain i8i sion when it sees the promise of to-mor- row. The dream of youth is a dream of gladness, success and honor ; and, let us hope, a dream of usefulness, nobility and consecration. The young man who does not think high things, whose imagination does not paint glowing pictures of what he hopes to be and to do, is training himself to be inferior, to be contented with the bald and sullen actualities of life. It is hope which leads to effort and hope springs from aspiration. There can be few worse misfortunes than to feel no aspira- tion to improve one's condition — to wear deeper and deeper the ruts of life with no desire to make it better, stronger or more useful. The great need of every student is ambition — the desire and determination to improve. A student without ambition is almost a contradiction of terms. The college can do but little for him. He needs to rouse himself and see the possi- 1 82 Work and Play bilities which lie before him, to kindle within himself a great enthusiasm to at- tain them. He will not stop with dream- ing if he sees great deeds to be done. We become like that of which we think — like that on which the heart is fixed. The eagle soars far aloft because he wishes to ; the horse is fleet because he wants to be ; the athlete is supple and strong because he desires to be so ; each has developed his powers according to his wish. It is in this way that '* the child is father of the man." Thought is supreme and, under the divine com- mand, creates us w'hat we are. He who keeps before his mind the lofty powers of intellect and character which he would gain will one day find that they are his as certainly as training will de- velop the athlete's muscles ; and he who steadfastly holds in view the splendid thinsrs which he would som.e time do, will at length gaze upon them as his finished work. Castles in Spain 183 And this is as truly natural — accord- ing to nature's laws — as the growth of a young man's stature. The difference is that one kind of growth comes in obedi- ence to his wish ; the other without regard to it. The dream, the aspiration, the purpose, become as truly a means of growth as are the digestion of the food or the circulation of the blood. The youth who truly aspires, who deter- mines to improve, will unconsciously seize the opportunities and use the means of improvement no less certainly and naturally than the flower selects from the atmosphere and the soil the materials of its growth. The opportunities, the sacred trust and responsibility of life, unfold grad- ually before most of us ; we see them dimly at first and from afar, or like one slowly awaking to new surroundings. But sometimes the aw^akening comes suddenly and after long delay, like the bursting forth of a great fountain. You 184 Work and Play remember the story of Garfield and the self-discovery which came to him. He was employed, when a youth, on a canal-boat, and, in spite of the entrea- ties of his noble mother, was growing up in coarse and sluggish indifference. One dark midnight he was called up to take his turn at the bow as the boat was passing through one of the long stretches of slack-water on the Ohio and Pennsyl- vania canal. Mechanically and half asleep he began uncoiling a rope, when it caught in a tangle. He gave it a jerk, and then a harder jerk, and, as the knot gave way, he staggered backward and fell overboard into the deep, dark water. The boat glided on, brushing him aside as it passed. No human help was near, and only a miracle could save him. So the boy thought, as he instinctively clung to the rope which he held in his hand. But it slipped loosely off the coil, and he sank beneath the surface, and the boat left him far behind. At length he felt the rope Castles In Spain i85 tighten in his grasp and hold firmly. Hand over hand he drew himself along and climbed on deck. Recovering from his shock, and surprised to find himself still alive, he examined the rope. An- other kink had caught in a crevice in the edge of the boat and saved him. The coil was nearly unwound ; only a few more yards and he would have clung to it in vain. Wondering how it could have hap- pened, he coiled the rope again, and tried to throw it into the crevice ; but it would not catch. Many times he tried to make it kink — six hundred, it is said — but it would kink no more. Then he sat down and thought. " I have thrown this rope," he reflected, "six hundred times, but I cannot make it catch. I might have thrown it six thousand. It is one chance in thousands which has saved my life. Providence, then, must think that it is worth saving, and I '11 not throw it away." Ere the first streaks of 1 86 Work and Play dawn appeared, the horizon of his life had widened, and was lighted up with the rays of a brighter promise ; for his imagination was already weaving the beautiful day-dreams of what he would one day become. He left the boat at the end of the trip, and the world knows his history. From that day his heart was aglow with thoughts of the things he would do. He never ceased to be an idealist. In col- lege his enthusiasm gave new life to every interest. Traditions lingered long among the students of the enterprises which he origmated and the impetus which he imparted to them. It was his vivid imagination and the prompt execu- tion of its designs which made him the idol of the Army of the Cumberland ; and when his life was ebbing slowly away the whole civilized world awaited the end in sorrow, because it had learned to love a man whose dreams had lifted humanity to a higher plane. Castles in Spain 187 It is thus with every great leader. It is the man with a lofty purpose, whose imagination never permits it to fade from his sight, that achieves great ends. Cyrus W. Field had in his boyhood a dream of wealth — but only as a means of service. He would be rich, and then he would do somethingr that should ben- efit mankind. He believed that when a man had accumulated a quarter of a mill- ion dollars he should withdraw from busi- ness and devote the remainder of his life to his fellow men. This sum was deemed wealth in those days ; it might not seem so now, but it doubtless appeared a vast sum to him as a country boy. He gained his wealth and was lookino- for a field of philanthropic service, when suddenl}^ his fortune was swept away. He built up another, and again retiring from busi- ness sought an opportunit}^ to contribute his share to the world's progress. He had been a friend of Joseph Henry and Professor Morse, and was glad to be- 1 88 Work and Play come interested in the project of an Atlantic cable. One after another the original projectors of the cable with- drew. Discouragements and obstacles multiplied, but his faith never faltered. So long as Field lived it mattered little what other friends of the cable aban- doned it ; for with his enthusiasm and will behind it, the enterprise was sure to succeed. The honors which came to the founder of the Atlantic telegraph, and the contribution which the cable was to the progress of science and civilization, were the fruit of his dreams. There will be no high achrevement if there be no lofty ideal. William Lloyd Garrison and Gerrit Smith were dreamers. Men called them impractical, foolish, mad; but posterity will never cease to honor their memory. John Howard and Elizabeth Fry were dreaming fanatics, wasting their splendid talents, it was said, on criminals, paupers and imbeciles, worthy only of contempt. Castles in Spain 189 But the waves of philanthropy which they set in motion now encircle the globe. The harsh and cruel treatment of the unfortunate classes has been swept away, and Christian nations are learning the lessons of pity and kindness. Let us cease to call the dreamer impractical. Milton, Tennyson, Long- fellow and Whittier were dreamers and seers, but who shall say that they were not practical, or that their fair visions have not brought comfort, joy and in- spiration to every lover of English verse? Gutenberg, Columbus, Newton and Franklin were visionaries, and so also were Watt and Fulton and Morse and Faradav, but what would our modern life be without their discoveries and in- ventions? And let us be thankful for the recog- nition of the ideal which has come in our day. Half a century ago ** works of fiction " were condemned as dangerous to the moral health of the community. igo Work and Play They created an imaginary world, it was said, peopled with unreal men and women, whose experiences were not those of real life. But before the preju- dice against such books had passed away. Uncle Tom's Cabin appeared, and was read by millions on both sides of the Atlantic. In every intelligent home in England and America, Uncle Tom's scarred and furrowed face was familiar, and had carried an ideal of wrong, of suffering and of patience which had touched the heart of the world. From that hour slavery was condemned and must cease. In like manner the stories of Dickens, Kingsley and many other authors have swept away great evils, or fired the imag- ination of youth to desire and to do great things. We are told, in the sacred story, that the Lord appeared to Solomon one night in a dream, and said, " Ask what I shall give thee." Men have read this passage Castles In Spain 191 for ages, carelessly or wonderingly, and have said it was a miracle. But is not the miracle repeated in the history of every 3^outh ? Does not God thus reveal himself now in the secret wish, and tell us each to ask what we will? Does not each become the arbiter of his own for- tune? We also read that God was pleased with Solomon because he suppressed vain and selfish wishes, and asked for broad-minded wisdom and the ability to make his life count for the benefit of his people. And so our lesson would be in- complete if we failed to note how much depends upon the moral character of our dreams. Out of the heart are the is- sues of life. If our imaginings are low, our longings unclean, we will assuredly grow in likeness to the ideals and aims which we cherish. And the student whose enthusiasm kindles for true ex- cellence, for keener intellect, for better work, will no less certainly find his de- 192 Work and Play- sires realized. Day by day he will, in a sense, answer his own prayers. He will gain the desired excellence, and, if he really seeks it, the highest type of man- hood and integrity. The dream which he loves to cherish will be fulfilled. Only let him choose wisely, for he will inherit the kingdom of which he is the rightful heir. XII WHAT IS EDUCATION? * ' Our pleasures and our discontents Arc rounds by which we may ascend y- H. W. Longfellow. Cultivate the physical exclusively , and you have aft athlete or a savage ; the moral only, a?id you have ati enthusiast or a maniac ; the intellecttial only, and yoit have a diseased oddity — it may be a 7no)istcr. It is only by wisely training all three to- gether that the co?nplete man is formed. Samuel Smiles. XII WHAT IS EDUCATION TylyTHY are we in college? What do we hope to gain by spending four years in study? Do the benefits justify us in giving so much time to it? College officers are often consulted by students with reference to the choice of electives, or the value of certain studies. In such conversations, doubt is sometimes sug- gested concerning the utilit}^ of a col- lege course or of certain parts of it. Vague or mistaken ideas are disclosed on the subject of education and what it should yield. Fundamental aims are overlooked ; secondary or incidental ben- efits are exaggerated. It may interest you to know that ele- mentary education is likewise called in question and that its scope and methods are sharply criticized. President Eliot 196 Work and Play declared in an article in the Forum^ not long ago, that there was serious and widespread disappointment at the results of popular education ; that it had failed to promote general contentment and hap- piness, that it did not lead to good mor- als, and that it did not even secure gen- eral intelligence. The daily press has abounded for years with criticisms of the schools which, if less sweeping, have been no less positive. While these at- tacks have been aimed especially at the public schools, they apply in a degree to all education and suggest that we ought to inquire what are the essentials in education. We need not consider these criticisms further than to note the boundless faith which they evince in the power of education. If they are half as important as is alleged, then the school- master holds the destiny of the nation in his hand to an extent which he has scarcely realized. Little is left, it would seem, for the church or the Sunday- What Is Education 197 school or the printing-press, or even the home, to do. But while the school is only one of the uplifting forces of society, we certainly wish that it should yield for us the best results possible ; and we know that it can only do this when we understand its pur- pose and do our part to promote it. The college is one of the most important of the influences which mould the man. What are the ends which it is designed to promote? What may we expect to get out of our four years in college? The best education is the hio-hest de- velopment of the individual in all his powers. The college aims to afford the means and conditions of such a develop- ment. New institutions have arisen in recent years which aim to meet new and specific wants ; the organization and work of the American college have also been changed ; but its spirit and pur- pose have remained constant from its very beginning. Its graduates are to be 198 Work and Play the thinkers and advisers of the commu- nities in which they live. They need the best possible preparation for these great responsibilities. They should be men of strength, men of culture, men of character. They should consciously seek in their college days to secure this equipment. I. The first requisite in a leader is strength. Strength presses to the front; weakness retreats to the rear. Strength begets courage and confidence ; weak- ness brings distrust and defeat. Even physical strength is universally admired. With what breathless interest and enthu- siasm do great crowds watch a well- fought game of football ! How they applaud every strong, quick dash ! A dozen years ago in a little New England village, a company of workmen were building a house. The timbers had just been raised and the men were walking around on them in their work, when one of them made a misstep and fell. A What Is Education 199 fellow workman at his side saw the fall and with marvelous swiftness and strength threw out his hand, caught his comrade and, at the risk of his own life, lifted him to the timber again. It was a noble feat of strength, and the carpenters in that little town tell of it with pride to this day. Every nation of the world cherishes in song and story its brave, strong men. If we turn to the realm of mind, we find our admiration rising still higher. Strength of intellect surpasses strength of body as mind outranks matter. Brute force counts for but little in the presence of man's inventions. A crowd of college boys and their friends applaud when one of their comrades breaks through the opposing line or makes a successful run on the football field, but the whole world honors the man of intellectual genius. It cherishes great masterpieces in litera- ture and art and trains its youth by a study of the classics which have come 200 Work and Play down to us from andquity. Mental dis- cipline must unite with training of nerve and muscle, if we would secure a robust and wholesome manhood. The college is a place where young men should learn to apply themselves — to face and overcome difficulties ; a place to acquire habits of industry, of concen- tration, of earnest work. This college believes, with Cicero, that " more men are ennobled by study than by nature," and that if it is to have alumni whom it will delight to honor in the future, it must give them, while students, courses of instruction and study which will com- pel their respect. Therefore it says to every young man : Find your purpose ; grasp it ; throw heart and soul into it ; train every power, that you may achieve it. Let your life sweep out along the line of highest promise, and the hope, the aspiration, the strength which buoy it will strengthen and enrich every life which it touches. No one can uplift What is Education 201 the Hves of other men until he has a pos- itive Hfe of his own. If college-trained men are to be leaders, they must be men of earnest purpose, men of strength. 2. But no college man may content himself with this. Liberal culture is also necessary. Intensity alone tends to narrowness. Strength of body or of in- tellect does not in itself constitute a sym- metrical manhood. The man of one idea may be impractical ; he cannot be broad and catholic. Education must do more than train specialists. Who has not admired the skill while he has pitied the limitations of such men? Their con- centration of interest disqualifies them for the broader aspects of life. *' Beware of the man of one book," says Montaigne. He who reads but one book may be a hard man to encounter ; his precise and positive knowledge may be irresistible along its own line ; but his interest and sympathy will be as narrow. He will run his own little round with 202 Work and Play ease and certainty ; outside of it he will be at constant disadvantage. Napoleon appointed Laplace, the great mathema- tician, minister of finance. He failed. Napoleon said of him that he carried the spirit of the infinitesimal calculus into every aff'air of State. He could look at a subject from no other standpoint. Such a man may be an expert in his own department, as quick and as sharp as a needle ; but like the needle, his keenness is the result of his narrowness. You need an education which will broaden your life by enlarging your sympathies as well as your knowledge ; an educa- tion which will bring the rich into sym- pathy with the poor, the employer with the workman, the believer with the doubter. Let the college student, then, read many books. Let him explore the treas- ures of all departments of literature, and, rising above selfish aims, deepen his interest in unseen things. Let him catch What is Education 203 the spirit of the great masters of thought, and learn to enjoy their companionship. In the graceful words of James Russell Lowell, " Let it be the hope of the col- lege to make a gentleman of every youth who is put under its charge, a man of culture, a man of intellectual resource, a man of public spirit, a man of refine- ment, with that good taste which is the conscience of the mind and that con- science which is the good taste of the soul." When this has been accomplished, my friends, you may safely become *' men of otie book." A vigorous mind must have its stor- ing period. You can draw no water out of an empty cistern. In early life the ca- pacity for absorbing knowledge is large. Facts and ideas are quickly incorporated into the habits of thought. The youth of active mind rapidly gathers facts, im- pressions, tastes, which become the foundation of his future work. Better that he should read too many books 204 Work and Play than too few. Better that his interest should flit from one subject to another than that he should train himself to indo- lence and apathy. Therefore the college says to its stu- dents : Foster your intellectual cravings and minister to them with the best which science and literature afford. Lay broad and deep the foundations of your educa- tional house. Rear it in comely propor- tions. Take time to fashion and finish it in every part. Study the humanities ; learn the lessons of history ; catch the inspiration of grand and noble lives. Add to your strength grace and beauty, and 3^our college days will yield you an ever-increasing revenue of pleasure and of power. 3. The third essential in a symmetri- cal manhood is character. Strength and beauty will fail of their highest realiza- tion if a worthy motive is lacking. The world is full of people who are seeking high positions instead of fitness to fill What is Education 205 them. The true student aims first at good preparation — to become his best self. He does not permit his ambition to fix upon some coveted position when it ought rather to seek capacity to fill it. The young man who diligently makes the most of his opportunities and be- comes fitted for a station of honor and usefulness is the man who will get the place and adorn it. Do not believe the pessimism which would teach you other- wise. The " royal road " to success is through character and manliness. By character we mean integrity, moral uprightness, spiritual strength, the reach- ing out of the soul towards God. We also mean that quality in a man which begets confidence and respect. College life should foster this tran- scendent power. It trains to self-reliance ; let it also train to integrity and genuine- ness. It teaches a student to be himself, to despise imitations and shams ; let it also teach him to be loyal to his convic- 2o6 Work and Play tions, to recognize and obey the voice of dut}^ Let it teach him that the govern- ment of one's self is the only true free- dom. Moral discipline is as necessary as intellectual discipline ; it is simply storing up thought and action into char- acter. It teaches us to rise above im- pulse, to be self-restrained, self-balanced, to bring to the tribunal of reason the con- flicting claims of pleasure and of duty. Moral discipline trains to courage. It teaches a man to dismiss his fears by calmly facing them ; it enables him to see that the path of safety, no less than of honor, lies in straightforward truth- fulness and sincerity, that a man's real danger is in disloyalty to himself. Moral discipline teaches the marvelous power of work. It enables a man to hold the unsolved problems of life patiently in his grasp till their difficulties disappear ; it sends him to his daily task with a joyful mind, the master, not the slave, of his occupation. What is Education 207 The highest manifestation of moral growth is the Christlike spirit. Educa- tion fails short of its true end if the learner does not sit at the feet of the great Teacher. Religion does not con- sist in emotion ; it is an upward move- ment of the whole nature. The first and great commandment is to love with all the heart and soul and mind. A full manhood unites worship with work. I have thus endeavored, young gentle- men, to outline the educational ends which I would have you set before your- selves. Yours are to be selected lives ; make the most of them. Prepare to be leaders in the fields of opportunity which await you. The future of our country depends upon its earnest, thoughtful men. Our safety will not be found in the genius of some great man, but in the presence in all our communities of trained men, men of strength, men of wisdom, men of character. These are the true rulers of the people. Every free 2o8 Work and Play country must be governed by an aristoc- racy ; not an aristocracy of blood or of fashion ; not an aristocracy of talent only ; but an aristocracy of character. This is the true heraldry. Mar- 16 1901 JUN 29 1900 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 9 792 882 7