ADDRESSES TO GRADUATES OF THE WESTERN ILLINOIS STATE NORMAL SCHOOL JUNE 2. 1907 JUNE 7. 1908 MAY 30. 1909 BY ALFRED BAYLISS PRINCIPAL Printed in Manual Arts Print Shop. COMPENSATION What Profit Hath He That Worketh In That Wherein He Laboreth? — Ecclesiastes III. 9. The laborer is worthy of his hire. Few men love work for its own sake. The well-nigh universal motive to labor is the reward/ — the “profit in that wherein he laboreth.” It is not unfitting, therefore, that you wno deliberately have chosen, and who very soon are to begin the pursuit of a definite vocation, and we, your friends, who approve your choice, have encouraged it, and to the measure of our ability, sincerely have sought to advance your preparation for it, should together consider its social value, and what prospect, if any, there may be of worthy reward. The life motives of no two men ever were or ever can be just the same. The barest enumeration of the complex influences oper- ating to make up a single strong human character would transcend the limits of tne present hour. Were the time limit ignored, a just analysis of the same w r ould baffle any but Him who is the searcher of all hearts. To this much, however, we shall all assent. In the last analysis, the chief glory of any human endeavor belongs to him who initi- ates it. Then, if it be true that the most worthy work of man is effort to improve human conditions, the business of teaching little children is a noble one. When the disciples of the great Teacher of man re- buked those that brought little children to Him, we are told that He was displeased with the disciples, hut took the children in His arms and blessed them, declaring to them who were there, a.nd to all men for- ever, that “of such is the kingdom of heav- en.” So no occupation of civilized man is nobler than that of the teacher of little children. It is the foundation work in the perfection of mankind. Nor, in saying this, do I seek to exalt the school. Considered merely as a social in- stitution, the school is not of elementary rank, as the family, the church, or the state. Its function is economical and secondary. It is an organism which has come into use with the growth of civilization to do better, and at less expense, part of the work which primarily belongs to the family, — which is society in embryo. The school, then, is the handmaiden of society, an indispensable ad- junct to, but not a substitute for the family. This view is in no way inconsistent with the essential nobility of the teacher’s work. The son of man declared that He, himself, came not to be ministered unto, but to min- ister, and directed that whosoever would be great among men should be their minister, and whosoever would be chief among them, let him be their servant. Service thus be- came the supreme test, and tried by that test, no occupation is more dignified nor more worthy. None is more necessary, save only those employments which have to do with the primal necessities of physical life itself, — food, shelter and clothing. Social ideals recede, enlarge, -and often change their forms as we seem to approach them. These transformations are silent and usually unannounced. The marvelous in- dustrial growth, and changes of business 2 methods, due chiefly to the invention of labor-saving machinery and improved meth- ods of transportation of goods, are ob- vious enough. No less radical and, upon re- flection, equally obvious are the social changes that have accompanied or followed closely after them. Within the easy recol- lection of men not yet old the prevailing faith and practice were that opportunity was free, and the performance of individual obligations came very near to summing up the whole duty of man. The individualistic ideal certainly dominated all educational thought and practice. For the common child, the traditional three R’s and the catechism were enough, and if the child were a girl there were many who thought that at least one of the R’s might be spared without great loss. But the common consciousness has been wonderfully enlarged in recent years. We have come to see that social and altruistic motives have to do with the quantity and quality of traming. Our notion of what consti- tutes a “good, common, school education” has grown accordingly. The substitution of machines for the hands of men, extending In so many ways even to the work of the household; the wonderful advances in col- lecting and distributing the news; the prog- ress of representative government controll- ed by enlightened public opinion, and the growth of humanitarianism, have combined to increase the burden, and obligations, and duties and ideals of the people’s schools. The machine has made cities, and the fac- tory system has made manual training as imperative as grammar. The newspaper has been a superficial educator in almost 3 every line of human thought and endeavor, and the greatest of all influences in form- ing and directing public opinion. The school has reacted by a clearer recognition of its responsibility for the initial steps in train- ing the young citizen for his special func- tion of self government. The endurance of democracy depends upon the fidelity and efficiency of the elementary schools. Self- government in schools, is by no means a vagary, and may be realized, as a mode of training in citizenship, very soon after we see that its meaning is not limited to the mere duplication of forms intended to meet other and quite different conditions. The growth of humanitarianism, or conscious- ness of kind, — is manifested in a variety of ways. Five cities circulate through their free libraries ten million books a year, and seven thousand lesser ones do likewise in proportion to their means. The schools re- act upon the libraries both directly and in- directly. They use the civic libraries, and they establish little libraries of their own. There are ten thousand school libraries in Illinois, with a million volumes in them. The schools, in their capacity of social or- ganisms, in imitation of the cities, are buy- ing books at the rate of seventy thousand volumes a year. Free lectures, art exhibits, social gatherings, vacation schools, play grounds, out-of-door as well as in-door gym- nasiums, and the utilization of the public school plant the year round, are some of the responses of the schools in cities to the growth of altruism in society. These things increase the burden and complexity of the teachers’ business. He must note and encourage the beginnings of 4 a social spirit that will grow into the power of sympathy with life under all right condi- tions. He must develop an honest ambition to be ini some definite way a dynamic force in a progressive community. He must in- oculate the children against the insidious tendency to evanescent ambitions, and ground them in the conviction that, as hu- manity is now constituted, any youth with a positive aim, and an ambition not incom- mensurate with his powers, may by sheer force of will and honesty of purpose, push himself through the social drift-wood to the accomplishment of something quite to his owiii credit and of value to the world. He must, withal, send them on to the next grade, or out of school, with as little as pos- sible of what Emerson calls the distinctive foible of American youth, — pretense. “The mark of the man of the world,” says he, “is absence of pretension.” He does not make a speech, he takes a low business tone, avoids all brag, is nobody, dresses plainly, promises not at all, performs mucn, speaks in monosyllables, hugs his fact. He calls his employment by its lowest name, and so takes from evil tongues their sharp- est weapon.” Something of this poise and reserve power should be characteristic of the best product of even our commonest schools. And as if all this were not enough, every other year adds a new formal subject to the overcrowded curriculm. One year it is a special hygiene, the next civics from a book, and the latest proposal is the nutri- tive value of foods, with the elements of scientific tilling of the soil in the near back- e^ound. 5 In short, by a progressive variation and enlargement of its methods, the common school has become as complex as society itself. We measure its efficiency by the degree in which it harmonizes its daily pro- cedure with the ends of society. A teacher is good or bad according as his work fits into the stage of growth of the children. A school is good or bad according as its work fits the stage of growth of the com- munity whose servant it is. The constant question before the present day teacher is, “Does this day’s work promote individual and social growth?” Progress, therefore, cannot all be in straight lines, nor can it always be estimated in figures or measured by a yard stick. Apportionment of oppor- tunity must be equitable. God has ordained that the power of absorption shall be un- equal. The maximum growth,, therefore, is not the final criterion. Of course there are things of which a teacher must be sure. But it will often be much more difficult for you to be sure of anything than it will seem to you that it is for sundry of your critics to be sure of everything. Nor will it, at first thought, always be easy to understand why the teacher of ten years ago, who is now a prosperous man of affairs, or the mother of a brigh x , but erratic, boy seems to measure results by a standard so differ- ent from yours. This experience will test your mettle. Standards vary. Even stand- ards of morality change. So with the tests of education. Men and women, effiiqienit and progressive while actively employed in education, suffer a sort of atrophy when their energies have for some time been di- verted to other channels. Their judgments 6 are not based upon present facts. But tney must, notwithstanding, be respected. Such are some of the elements -and con- ditions of the work in which you propose to engage. What profit may you reasonably expect to find therein? From the pecuniary point of view, it may as well be conceded at the outset that the rewards are incommensurate with the ser- vice expected, usually even with the service actually rendered. We the people do appre- ciate our working teachers. We do like them. We are both grateful and civil to them. But we do not yet adequately pay them in dollars and cents. Let not your hearts be troubled over that. If we are to work up to our highest efficiency the wage scale must of course, include the minimum cost of the essential means of growth— ^ books, travel and reasonable recreation. Over and above these there should be a lit- tle margin for the proverbial rainy day. This much is but the measure of the abso- lutely unrefusable. It is merely the “Fair day’s wages for the fair day’s work , 5 indis- pensable to the noblest workman and the least noble, if any such distinction there be. But if mere acquisition of wealth ever be- comes our governing motive, the teacher’s occupation will no longer attract us. Teach- ing is not, and happily, never will become a lucrative employment. It is better so. The commanding purpose of life is to live. Teaching is the art of guiding the life of others, by surrounding it with the condi- tions of and incentives to the growth upon which expanding life depends. Great wealth too often leads to wanton luxury, gorgeous rainment, finer cookery, dyspepsia, or worse 7 yet, to the vice of greed and the disease of money mania. Midas longed for gold. He got it,— -and with it a pair of ears. Our country has now greater riches than any nation ever had before; but if it is to be- come the happiest, wisest, most beautiful, and in all things the best country in the world, it will be for quite other reasons than that. Considered -as a victory — the re- ward of that wherein we are to labor — money beyond our needs hardly is worth tabulating. Its whole value is as a symbol, - the means to -a worthier end. Not from any point of view, much less the teacher s, is great wealth a final criterion of success. 2. Power among men, and over them, as a motive of life, hardly is more worthy. “Where the word of a king is, there is power; -and who may say unto him, What doest thou?” Nevertheless, uneasy lies the head that wears a mown. A man becomes mayor, or governor, or president, — very of- ten, even a member of the school hoard, — at the expense of much peace of mind. There is a power behind every throne, as well -as upon it. Too often the “king” must sacrifice his manhood, or seem to fall down. In the end ambition is both dangerous and unsatisfying. “By that sin fell the angels!” “He who ascends to mountain-tops shall find The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow; He who surpasses or subdues mankind Must look down on the hate of those below. Though high above the sun of glory glow, And far beneath the earth and ocean 8 spread, Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow Contending tempests on his naked head; And tnus reward the toils which to those summits led.” 3. Great learning, in the sense of the mere acquisition of knowledge, — as an end of living, — is far from the highest motive. A so-called learned man may be the most miserly and selfish of men. There is a large sense in which “much wisdom is much grief,” and in which “he that increaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow.” Knowledge is entirely compatible with either good or evil. It is power. So is money. Either may be used as a shallow, ostentatious toy. Either may be the devil’s agent as well as the Lord’s. Knowledge is valuable or otherwise according to the use we make of it. 4. Fame, too, the ignis fatuus of so many unwise men, is one of the master illusions as a motive power of life. True fame, if it come at all, comes unsought. The whole earth is filled with the sepulchres of “famous” men whose names are unknown. When the valley of the Euphrates was the garden of the world and the center of its power, one Tiglath Pileser was “King of all Kings, Lord of Lords; the Supreme;- Monarch of Monarchs!” There was not to him a second in war nor an equal in battle. He himself admitted and so recorded it. What is he to us? A shadow, a phantom, a ghost! The gloiy of collective man is less evan- escent. But Nineveh, Babylon, Tyre, Jeru- salem, Athens, Rome, and a thousand less- er centers of his strength are but “jmonu- ments of his power converted into the 9 mockery of his weakness.” As the apostle Peter wrote to the strangers scattered about Pontus, “All flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass* withereth and the flower thereof fadeth away.” There is small profit tor him that worketh if that wherein he labor- eth is the pursuit of fame. For a brief time, he may wear long robes, receive greet- ings in the markets, and the highest seats in the synagogues, and the chief rooms at feasts, but the utmost he can surely leave behind him will be the record of a name, whose spelling is disputed, and that he lived, and flourished, — and died. Nobler aspiration than that might well be discov- ered in any kindergarten. 5. Even the form of greatness called gen- ius is not won by pursuit, nor is it a possi- ble end in itself. Genius is “the inspired gift of God.” The man who has it sees farther than his contemporaries. But his eminence is a dangerous one. The doom of Galileo awrnits him. Some Pilate shall scourge him. His crown shall be of thorns. His fate the cup of hemlock, — or the cross. And so on through all the long catalogue of man's unsatisfying desires. The truth is that we never can sell life for a price. Money wages to the extent of keeping him alive and strong, to the end that he may con- tinue to work, I say again that every workman high and low, must have. For the rest, he that would save his life must lose it, — byi giving it away. Make the real price noth- ing if you would receive all. Pray only for elbow T -room, insight, courage, strength, and leave to work. The profit is in the hands of Him who is debtor to no man, and in 10 whose eyes the faithfulest of us are un- profitable servants. From early in the morning unto the eleventh hour, His com- mand is “Go ye also into the vineyard; and whatsoever is right that shall ye re- ceive. *’ Nor let those of us who fondly im- agine that upon our shoulders has fallen the burden and the heat of the day, mur- mur at the thought that they that were hired about the eleventh hour may also in the end receive every man a penny. In this spirit must we enter upon our high calling. It is the peculiarity of our work that, in a very large sense, it is its own continuing and increasing reward. In it, as in hardly any other form of human endeavor, the workman both, loses and finds himself in his work. It is one manifesta- tion of the eternal principle of incarnation. For teachers who teach do so by living the life of children. They sacrifice their lives by merging them into the lives of others, to the end that the weaker life may endure. Thus in losing, their own lives- they save them. And this; is the teacher’s profit in that wherein he laboreth. I cannot doubt that you will attack your chosen work with energy, and will, and sympathy, tempering your ambition by the skill that is in you. You will not hurry. Neither will you rest. As well try to hurry the stars in their courses as to hurry Life. With this attitude of mind toward your chosen task, one element of your reward appears in advance. You will belong to the worthy fellowship of men and women who can sing at their work. In due time strength, and insight, and skill will come to you, and in the common school, God\s nursery of men, you shall find the vantage ground for a social service far beyond the power of silver and gold, and fame, and che fleeting acclamations of men to meas- ure or reward. Macomb, 111., Sunday, June 2, 1907. SUCCESS “And likewise he that had received two, he also gained other two.” — Matthew, xxv. 17. This parable of the talents opens up the whole question of human life, — its purpose, and whether it shall be weak or strong. It is the question of success or failure. A man who does not desire to grow in know- ledge, power and skill to the limit of his capacity, has hidden his one talent in the earth. He is now, or presently will be- come an unprofitable servant, from wnom shall be taken even that which he hath. His life will be a failure. One of the most severe tests of character that ever comes to us is that which comes during the suspense of waiting for one s opportunity. It is said of a most distin- guished volunteer general that, when the army was inactive for any considerable time, he became so discontented, unreason- able, and restless that his superiors were usually at a loss to know what to do with him — and even, sometimes, concerned them- selves unnecessarily about what to do to him. But he was; never known to make trouble for anybody but the enemy when the crisis of battle was on, or active opera- tions were in progress. So between the days of our preparation for a vocation and our actual entry upon it, there comes to most of us a period of uncertainty, — a com- plex of eagerness, and doubt, and hesita- tion which is commonly followed by a feel- ing of relief when, at last, we enter upon 13 the labor itself. The joy of labor then be- comes akin to the joy of battle. If your ex- perience is the common one, you will real- ize within a few days that you are living through such a period of suspense, and, by- and-by, it will be followed by the relief of •activity. You have chosen a vocation. It is sec- ond to none in moral dignity or in poten- tial social service. For this vocation you are in some degree trained. None of you are in the unskilled laborer’s bondage to time and place. You have a measure of that freedom which is the secret spring of power, — for the five talent man commands his own price, and even the two talent man has the advantage of a rising market. You are thus doubly fortunate, — fortunate in your choice, and in the freedom to pursue it. In due time the question will come to each of you, “How shall I invest the surplus which always comes to those who. trade wisely with the talents entrusted to them?” For manhood increases, as surely as money does, by prudent and safe investment of profits. No two talent man, however indus- trious and economical, ever rose into the five talent class by the methods of the miser. Mere saving, of course, is better than waste. But the timid servant was not saving his Lord’s talent when he went and hid it in the earth. Hoarding is .not sav- ing. It is the miser’s vice. The natural penalty for hoarding life instead of expend- ing it, is the “outer darkness.” It is a failure. What, then, is success, and how shall we attain it? 14 The question does not admit a categor- ical answer. Most of us are prone to mis- take certain possible rewards of success for the thing itself, — fame, for example, or honors. It does not follow, however, that the unknown man is unsuccessful. It may be quite possible for one w T hose name has never been printed in the newspapers, or one who has never, even been elected col- lector of taxes, to so live that when the day of reckoning, comes, he, though but a one talent man, shall hear the welcome “Well done, good and faithful servant!” Nor does success depend upon whether one has been given two or five talents, or but a single talent. Though there are many baser measures, I do not quite think it is meas- ured by the mere extent to which one con- tributes to the general welfare. To be sure, society grows by the accretions of what its efficient units add to the common stock, and he to whom was given five tal- ents gave more than the man who received but two. But the latter was exactly as successful as the former. The one talent man had he gained one, would have been as successful as either, and would have been more so than a five talent man who gained but four talents more. Let us say that the successful man is the one who makes the most of himself, and in proportion to his gifts, acquired powers, and opportunities, contributes most to the common good. We may no?; agree that this definition is complete and exact. Whether we do or not, the realization of a life of the greatest possible usefulness, each for himself, is no mean ambition, and the time spent in considering how we may achieve 15 this much cannot be wholly lost. In every life there are four leading fac- tors, heredity, environment, accident and personality. The first and third we can- not help. The second we can affect only through the last. Our personality, or char- acter, is a combination of physical, intel- lectual, aesthetic and moral qualities. These are the talents with which we are to trade. Our conceptions of what things amount to “satisfactions” of the desires that spring out of these qualities, and our mode of pro- cedure in obtaining them, determine our character a.nd whether it is static or kin- etic, growing or atrophied. The manner in which we bring our personality to bear upon our environment in the act of satis- fying our physical desires is, so far as others, who see only the outward manifes- tations, are concerned, the common meas- ure of our capability. But, in the case of the young man or woman, there is frequent- ly a margin of error for which their elders do not always fully allow. They often over- look the merely budding capabilities, and, of course, cannot see the inward ones. In the spring-time of life the outward mani- festations and the inward possibilities do not always harmonize. Every new man Jives in a new time. Thus it is inevitable that some time must be lost — consumed — in discovering true relations between, and in acquiring a true perspective of things. This no other can do for us. Each of us, often under the sharp spur of hunger, must solve this problem for himself. Happy are they who do not consume a whole life in floundering about from one disappointed ex- pectation to another, until their allotted 16 three score years and ten are wasted and gone beyond recall. This process of adjustment is not al- ways easy. It involves, in the first place, the inventory of our working capital. Often the young man sees double, or quintruple, and his one talent looks to him like two or five. Such an one has been likened to an unbroken colt starting for the forbidden pasture only to find the barrier impassaDie. The folly of inexperience drives him on. He follows the line fence, but finds it every- where in perfect repair, lunges madly and repeatedly upon its cruel barbs, fortunate, if, at last, he settles down to the sparse but honest picking, and waits for nature’s processes to heal his lacerated sides and limbs. I knew a young soldier once who was too cock-sure that the weapons of war were sabres and carbines, whose first order hit him like an electric shock: “Take a spade and clean out that ditch!” He, prob- ably, had not then heard the familiar ad- monition “Do the nearest duty first,” but he found it the necessary way then, as he lived to find it the better way always. In the period of self-discovery no other rule of action is more universal. I believe that no other is equally safe. Shall we, then, you are saying, abandon our ideals? I hope not. But when the hour of self-realization comes, we shall have found that our ideals as well as their impediments are in ourselves and not in the conditions which surround us. Circum- stances are the stuff to be shaped and adapted. Our America is all around us, and not away off yonder. The place, the material, the tools, are non-esentials. Tne 17 workman is everything. The nearest approach to an ideal school I have yet known was out on the prairie in an ugly little “box car” witn four win- dows and one stove, “13” unassorted child- ren, and a two-talent teacher whom the near by town people, while suffering from acute ophthalmia, rejected on the ground that she did not seem to them to be en- dowed with one talent. This does not imply that you should not be ambitious. But the prime condition of realization is self-knowledge. Is the work worthy? Can I do it? Too many men are like the unfortunate dog to whose tail some human imp has fastened a tin can full of pebbles. Their ambition chases them. The faster they run, the louder the rattle, and the louder the din the more fool- ish the chase. But if one has ac- quired a perspective, discovered himself, adjusted his inward capability to his out- ward, his ideals to original, actual condi- tions, and learned to discriminate between the noble and ignoble, he may safely put forth his strength. It does not look so to most of us today, for example, but a thou- sand years hence Booker T. and George of the same name may be much nearer to- gether than they seem just now. It was a with the first Washington. Is it less so, though objectively so different, in the case of this one? The ideal of both is human progress through freedom. The tin can figure is a rude one, but it fits. Amb ; itioin of that order is the greatest illusion of life. In the opinion of the ancients “to.e was the great man who scorned to shine,” and it is written that “before honor is hu- 18 mility.” The main purpose of this pseudo-ambi- tion is, of course, what we usually think of as some one of the “higher positions” in life. I have a friend who wishes with all his heart to be a “Colonel,” but who by rea- son of age and otherwise is quite disquali- fied. He is not altogether singular. If a thousand volunteers were wanted in Ma- comb, they would be forthcoming, and there would be many candidates for Colonel be- sides the one who could command a thou- sand men better than any other. The love of precedence is a stronger motive with most of us than the sense of power and duty. Many a well-meaning father has said “I am making, great sacrifices to give my boy an education. I want him to have a better chance in the world than I have! had,” — meaning all the while that he want- 1 ed him to be in some way a more conspi- cuous citizen. “Getting on in the world,” is all well enough if we mean the right' thing by it. But the motive must not be too low, and vanity is just one round below the lowest round of the ladder by which we should rise. It is on the ground. The noble ambition is to know rightly what we can do, and then, without haste and without rest, to go ahead and do it. Let him who would be great first become *. minister. Social service is the chief end of man. The man who knows his own limitations best is- the strongest. There will always be work for the strong man. “Infinite is the help man can yield to man.” If he have steadfastness of mind, the re- ward will come. It will be just enough, too. What is it to him whether his origi 19 nal tal'ent be one or five? That is the busi- ness of the Master. If the one-talent man had traded with it and gained another, ne, too, might have heard the “well done, good and faithful servant.” But if one has found his work, has ad- justed himself to it, and at length finds himself a leader of other men in their com- mon work, his success is still in danger of falling, short if he forgets that “A man shall eat good by the fruit of his mouth,” and that “He that keepeth his mouth keep- eth his life.” There is a source of strength which we are taught to seek without “vain repetitions” and we are warned that “much speaking” will not avail us. “Not William, the silent, only/' says the great Scotchman in his greatest book, “but all the consider- able men I have known, and the most un- diplomatic and unstrategic of these, fore- bore to babble of what they were creating and projecting. Nay, in thy own mean per- plexities, do thou, thyself, but hold thy tongue for one day, on the m-orrow how much clearer are thy purposes and duties; what wreck and rubbish have those mute workmen within thee swept aw^ay, when in- trusive noises tyere shut out! Speech is too often not, as the Frenchman defined it, the art of concealing thought, but of quite stifling and suspending thought, so that there is none to conceal. Speech too is great, but not the greatest. As the Swiss inscription says: Sprechern ist Silbern, Schweigen ist Golden; or as I might rather express it: Speech is of Time, Silence is of Eternity.” “Bees will not work except in darkness; thought will not work except in silence; 20 neither will virtue work except in secrecy. Let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth! Like other plants, virtue will not grow unless its roots be hidden, buried from the eye of the sun. Let the sun shine on it, nay, do but look at it privily thyself, the root withers, and no flower will glad thee.” Or, in other, and fewer and simp- ler words, a good tree is known by its fruits, or by our work and not by our words shall we be justified or condemned. Over and above all this, is there anything not nominated in the bond, but which also constitutes part of the weightier matter of the law of a successful life? Knowledge is good. Right ideas are good. Efficiency is good. So also, provided they do not take a fixed or permanent form, high ideals are good. This, I think, suggests one other factor in the kind of life we are considering. The law of intellectual and ethical growth is a continuing one. The day we arrive at the deliberate conclusion that we are justi- fied in merely holding fast to present pow- ers and acquisitions', stagnation sets in. The day that growth stops, we bury our Lord’s talent. That day we die. While we live we must live. Life means growth. To stop growing to die. No man ought ever to come to the end of his road. “This is the true sign of ruin to a race — It undertakes no march, and day by day Drowses in camp, or w T it,h the laggard’s pace, Walks sentry o’er possessions that decay; Destined with sensible waste, to fleet away ; For the first secret of continued power Is the continued conquest; all our sway Hath surety in the uses of the hour; If that we waste, in vain walled town and 21 lofty tower.” Let me close by calling to your minds but one other prime factor in a successful life, namely, the power of centering the at- tention and the will on the object in entire forgetfulness of self. The best thing in the world is* character. The next best is happi- ness. Neither is found until self is lost. If we cannot lose ourselves in our work, our work is unworthy of our best effort. It is 4 not conducive to our highest growth. But if it be a task in proportion to the talents entrusted to us, our daily task is our best educator, our surest well-spring of happiness. That does not mean that it is necessarily either great or small intrin- sicially. The common work must be done. Any work is a great work for us if it calls out our full power, — and absorbs us. To no vocation does this law apply more rigorously than to that of the teacher. To attain efficiency, increase it by intellectual and spiritual growth, crown it with the ability to lose one’s self in the appointed work or duty, — this is to be successful. Like begets like in all nature. If we can live this life we may induce the same mode of life in our pupils? Some of your schools may be small. I sincerely hope that will be the case. A wise ancient once said: “You will confer the greatest benefits on your city, not by raising its roofs, but by exalting its souls. For it is better that great souls should live in small habitations than that abject souls should burrow in great houses. Our vocation, in its highest as- pect, is the exaltation of souls. This, how- ever desirable such accessories may be, does not depend upon a great building, a 22 profusion of modern appliances, nor a high salary. These things in themselves are hardly less futile than the success that at- tends mere cleverness and dexterity, or the cajolery of the weaknesses of men. They do not touch either the root or the heart of the matter we are considering. Dominie Jamieson did not wheedle his “Maecenas” for a minute, but he made him help keep the grass down on the road “atween the college and the schule-hoose of Drumtochty” by the vigorous use of Scotch epithets and straightforward plain speaking. Drumtochty school was small. It was out in the woods. Like so many in Illinois, it had a door in one end, and birds sometimes flew in unheeded. But “schol- ars- were born there, for the Domsie had ideals, the missionary spirit, and the power to lose himself in his work. Not all of us may ever be able to say that “for five and thirty years w-e have never wanted a stu- dent at the university,” but most of us may blaze some section of a trail leading lrom the door of a little school to a higher, and guide some younger ones therein for a por- tion of the way. The life that begets life, the growth that induces growth, — this is the common school teacher’s reward. By that sign he conquers. For him, as for all men, the ability to keep his ideals within his own possibilities, and yet constantly enlarge them, to increase his life by in- vesting it, to save it by giving it away, — this is to solve the problem of a success- ful life. Macomb, 111., June 7, 1908. 23 PEACE He hath not dealt so with any nation. — Psalm CXLVII.-20. He who influences the times in which he lives influences all the times which are to follow. — Lincoln. The poet who wrote the beautiful festal anthem, part of which we have just read together, was the greatest and most war- like king of the chosen people of Jehovah. His reign and that of his son, together covered the most glorious period of their national history. The Jews are no longer a nation, but a scattered, and, in many lands, a persecuted people. Most of them persist in rejecting the gospel of Him who is the chief glory of their race. But while the world has been discovering that it is impossible to destroy them, it has been profoundly influenced by them, and the deot of civilization to the Hebrew people is im- measurable. The most advanced civil and social systems are founded upon their laws. We rest one day in seven by virtue of the social persistence of a Jewish law. We read, mark, and inwardly digest their his- tory. Their unequalled lyric poetry was never before used in public worship by as many people as use it today. We reverent- ly acknowledge thieir God, and pray to Him after the manner taught us by His son, our Lord, — a Jew of Galilee. Ethically speak- ing, no other branch of the human family has contributed so much to the sum of hu- man happiness. But as a nation th : eir glory 24 has departed, and, as far as we can now see, forever. The time, which elapsed between the exo- dus of the Jews from Egypt and the dis- ruption of the powerful kingdom of David and Solomon approximates closely the peri- od between Columbus and the war between the States, the memory of which is in all our minds today. How different would have been our history had the Union been broken! It was not so ordained. Our pio- neers continued their onward march. Fron- tier after frontier was established, obliter- ated, and forgotten. Even while the out- come of our struggle for existence was yet doubtful, the great race between the Union and Central Pacific railroads was begun, and presently there was no frontier, nor East nor West. The preserved Uuion has increased in material resources until it has become the first market-place of the world, consuming more than a third, — nearly a half, — of all the products of hu- man industry. Nowhere else on the whole earth are so many people, under one govern- ment, as well fed, and clothed, and shel- tered. Perhaps, in no other nation are these fundamentals of civilization so gener- ously supplemented by the means of satis- faction of the higher desires of Knowledge, Beauty, and Righteousness. To no nation so aptly as to our own, do the lines of the Psalm now apply: He hath strengthened the bars of thy gates; He hath blessed thy children within thee. He maketh peace in thy borders; He filleth thee with the finest of the wheat. Are we, too, in a peculiar sense a “chosen” people, a national instrument in 25 the right hand of Him who changeth not? No man, of a certainty, can answer such a question. Nor can we forsee our na- tional destiny. We do not in these later days so often characterize it as manifest.” One significant fact, how- ever, is coming into our national conscious- ness. The true grandeur of a nation does not depend upon its power in war. We see that aggressive war as an agent of national evolution has very nearly outlived its use- fulness. Organized murder is as unright- eous and as foolish as the duel. War is a means of settling relative might; but as a means of determining relative right, it is as uncertain as it is sinful. No dispute is ever settled until it is settled right. By nations, no less than by individuals, wise purposes are established by counsel. So on the other hand, we may justly antici- pate that our favored location and increas- ing strength will combine to give us a lead- ing, — perhaps the first, — place among peace making and peace loving nations. Ameri- can representatives may exceed in number those of any other world-power in the first general assembly of the parliament of man. For the federation of the world is no longer a poet’s dream. It is a visible, on-coming reality. Into the common consciousness of the world is coming the great truth pro- claimed by the royal Hebrew poet, that “There is no king saved by the multitude of an host. A mighty man is not delivered by great .strength.” — (Ps. 32:16.) In saying this, I am not looking backward. I would turn your minds to the possibilities of the future. We cannot recall the past. 26 Nor if we could, who shall say that the men who fought so hard and so well for the Peace of Appomattox could have done other- wise than just as they did. The men who di?d to save the Union, — they and their comrades, living and dead, — were the in- carnation of the conscience of an aroused nation whose life was threatened, and whose destiny was in the balance. All honor to them! -From the humblest little coffee- cooler in the ranks, to Sherman, the mag- nificent, and Grant, the silent man and brave, not one of them fought for conquest, or glory, or the lust of war. The Civil war was a struggle for self-preservation; an act of obedience to the first law of all nature. In the providence of God, the Union was preserved, and the prospects spread out be- fore us continue to be “high, exciting, and gratifying,” as Webster said they would be as long as it lasts. Nor can I, for one, ques- tion the national motives which impelled the rescue of Cuba from the rapacity and cruelty of decadent Spain. That war if war it may be called — was waged in the spirit of the noblest declaration of our greatest and most magnanimous soldier, — “Let us have Peace!” It was as upright, unselfish, and free from passion as the lawful pro- cedure of a trained policeman. It was a deed of national altruism done “with malice toward none.” But the prophecy of the future is Peace. Wars will cease, spears be cut asunder, and bows be broken. Chariots will be burned in the fire, swords become plow-shares, and spears pruning hooks. “Nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.” 27 In His own good time. He to whom one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day, shall judge between the nations, and every throne un earth shall be established by righteousness. This, then, is the one thought I would have you carry away from this place today: The objective point of prophecy and history alike is the pacification of the world, and that, if we, the teachers of America, do our duty well, we may hasten this so much to be desired consummation. How shall we know our duty? That, none of us is able to see in its en- tirety. Some fragments, or nearby ele- ments thereof we may perceive, though no two of us, perhaps, see even them in the same perspective nor in just the same com- bination. This much seems clear to me. If the sword goes, the book must come. "The dia- meter of the moral and ideal good,” said a greater Frenchman than Napoleon, “cor- responds to the calibre of men’s minds. In proportion to the worth of the brain is the worth of the heart.” Hence the utility of the book and the schoolmaster. Without justice there can be no lasting peace. Jus- tice is the product of reason. So the power to read, — by which I mean the power to think, — becomes a universal human require- ment. Thus our work lies at the very roots of the national life. Whoever else fails, we must succeed. What, then, is our ethical ideal? Here again no complete answer is ready made, waiting to be promulgated. Some element- al conditions seems to be evident. Civiliza- tion is founded upon efficiency. The most 28 precious gift of the Creator to His creatures is ability, — the power to do things. So- ciety is made up of individuals. Individuals, spontaneously or voluntarily, become aggre- gates. Voluntary aggregates of individuals become social organs. These organs de- velop and exercise capacities for subordina- tion, co- operation, self-control and altruism in the ratio of the total combining power of such capacities in the units which compose them. No social organism, whether family, church, school, or state can maintain its health and systematically grow if the indi- viduals which compose it are inefficient, im- moral, or weak. Hence, what we call “education;” a term very elusive of definition. Its purpose is to increase the psychical and moral wealth of society in, at least, the ratio of its increase in numbers and physical strength. The pro- cess seems to be a two-sided one. The new social units must be so trained as to set up in their minds such standards of ethical values as will make them safe and sane, and, to the extent that each is able to assi- milate it, he must be put in possession of the accumulated experience of the race. This is our work for progress and for peace. In what spirit do we consciously and delib- erately purpose to do it? How shall the children we teach act and react? What shall they know? These two things determine what they shall be. What they become de- termines the future of the nation. “It might be a, matter of dispute,” said one of the greatest teachers of the last cen- tury, “what processes have + he greatest effect in developing the intellect; but it can hardly be disputed what facts it is most ad- 29 visable that a young man entering into life should accurately know. I believe, in brief, that he ought to know three things: First — Where he is, — Secondly — Where he is going, — Thirdly — What he had best do under those circumstances. The man who knows these things and who has had his will so subdued in learning them, that he is ready to do what he knows he ought, I should call educated; and the man who knows them not, uneducated, though he could talk all the tongues of Babel.” Let us see what this “Course of Study” includes. First: “Where he is,” Ruskin ex- plained that he meant by the phrase “where he is,” “what sort of a world he has got in- to; how large it is; what kind of creatures live in it, and how; what it is made of, and what may be made of it,” which sounds like a definition of geography, or reminds one ut the first of the four standards set up by Dr. Van Dyke, — the power of clear sight, or the third category in Huxley’s wonderful defi- nition, “a mind stored with a knowledge of the great fundamental truths of nature and of the laws of her operations.” “Did you ever see the earth, Johnnie,” said a dear little miss of a teacher just out of the eighth grade. “No, ma’am,” said Master John. We shall fall far short of the educa- tion that will make America the first peace- maker of the world until we see to it that every young citizen is made consciously aware that he lives on an earth, in an at- mosphere, and that he is affected by and can affect both. He is entitled to know, and our national destiny is retarded until he 30 does know, something of the flora and fauna of the earth, — “what kind of creatures live in it,” — and to go out into it with some knowledge of the wonderful story of rock and plant and animal, as translated by the methods of modern scientific research. Are we doing so much as this? Read the fear- fully and wonderfully constructed child labor law and see. Not so long as the mere ability to read at sight and write legibly simple sentences is the only safeguard between the celebration of a lad’s fourteenth birthday by taking him from school and putting him at a man’s work. One such “breath of God; bestowed in heaven, but on earth never to be unfolded” refused even one day of grace for each year of his life, went out from un- der this roof the week before last, pleading, as he went, with tears and quivering lip, that his lesson lists and books from the library might be sent to him to study at night. When the case came to my atten- tion, the bitter cry of the great Scotchman came to me: “That there should be one man die ignorant who had capacity for knowledge, this I call a tragedy, were it to happen more than twenty times a minute, as by some computations it does. The miser- able fraction of science which our united mankind, in a wide Universe of Nescience, has acquired, why is not this, with all dili- gence, imparted to all?” Secondly, — Where he is going? Ruskin explains that he means by this that the edu- cated man should know “what chances or reports there are of any other world than this; — and whether for information con- cerning it, he had better consult the Bible, 31 the Koran, or the Council of Trent./* There is reason to believe that the religious mo- tive in education is undervalued. If this view be true, the reasons why the school can hardly do more than it does seem also to indicate that the cognate institutions, family and church, must do more. The con- dition is as it is. The reasons for its exis- tence do not alter the fact. If the wnoie man i.s* to be educated, speaking broadly, and disregarding dogma, his religious nature may not be ignored. Leaving out of con- sideration both religion and dogma, think- ing only of literature, it will be lamentable indeed if familiarity with the English Bible, greatest of all classics, ever ceases to be an essential part of the equipment of a culti- vated man. Thirdly, — “What he had best do under the circumstances.” Here we ought to find com- mon ground. More, maybe, than most of us can well cultivate. The honesty which is the best policy, the honesty which al- ways pays its debts, and never scamps work, — the honesty which would scorn to pack a caucus, or buy or sell a vote, — the thing we call “common” honesty is much, — very much, but it is not the whole thing in honesty. This is a matter of training large- ly. The law which governs is one of induc- tion, Like begets like. The ideal young citizen of a Republic destined to be first in Peace, must somehow be led into the right intellectual as well as moral attitude to- ward all truth. If we achieve this, he will. In the hand to mouth struggle for existence, which is the fate of so many, vision is often obscured. Occasional blunders are unavoid- able. Truth is the high ground from which 32 we overlook the field. Sometimes, when the clouds break, as they do and will, we get, through the rift, a view of the heights be- yond, — which we are striving to obtain. Honesty is an attitude. Again, the young citizen must have intel- lectual muscle and fibre; or, as Huxley puts it, his intellect “must be a clear, cold, logic engine, with all its parts of equal strength, and in smooth working order; ready, like a steam engine, to be turned to any kind of work, and spin the gossamers as well as forge the anchors of the mind.” This, of course, in degrees. But even the one talent man may have the power of continuity — concentration and persistence — patience. If we have these qualities, our pupils will get them. They are both infectious and contagious. In a republic like ours, patriotism should be the commonest of virtues. Do any of us think it is? If so, do not let us be too sure of o-ur opinion until it has been tried by other tests then our drum and trumpet emo- tions. Civic virtue is quite as necessary in the weak, piping times of peace as when the blast of war blows in our ears. It is a woman’s quality as well as a man’s. To make the test plain and simple, has the idea of universal education yet obtained possession of our hearts? Let us try it by these two fair and simple tests. Are we willing to vote to have the State tax rate raised sufficiently so that, after supplying the needs of the State’s charities with a liberality amply sufficient to place Illinois in the foremost rank, as of right she ought to be, there will be enough left to enable the State to supply free high school facili- 33 ties to every boy and girl who can be in- duced to use them, whether the home hap- pens to be beside a pavement or in the fields? Or should we be willing to vote, say two more cents on the hundred dollars to enable the State to supplement the re- resources of the school districts to such an extent that every district might have the services of a trained, competent, and fairly well paid teacher? Such tests as these are real. Are we, in fact, as patriotic in small and near things as we are in the larger and more remote affairs? There are times when pavements, lights, and sewers in the city, or the affairs of the little one-room school out in the country, make as legiti- mate appeals for “firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right” as the policy of a Governor or a President. We must so teach. But I must close. If we are indeed the most favored nation on earth, as I firmly believe we are, we must take the matter of universal education seriously, or lose our leadership. This country needs the largest possible number of liberally educated men and women for the responsible duties of leadership in all its forms. It needs rightly trained secondary school graduates in great- ly increased numbers for the social ser- vices of secondary responsibility. It needs absolutely universal elementary education as a condition of continued existence. For all of them the constituted authorities will provide the material equipment. The “Macedonian Cry” is for teachers, — ever for more and better teachers, — teachers who can influence the greater times that are to come by influencing aright the times in 34 which they live, — teachers who combine practical efficiency, founded upon honesty, intellectual ability, patriotism and good business habits, all colored and flavored with a little of the missionary spirit, plus a continuing tendency to growth, self-culture, and a higher life, all combined with char- acter enough to induce similar qualities in their pupils, to the end that democracy shall not become a by-word, through our unworth- iness and our country a failure, but rather the leader and powerful examplar of every land and people whose choice it is to “Depart from evil and do good Seek Peace and pursue it.” If you, young ladies and gentlemen of the class of 1909, can come back to us a little later, and say, “I have done my level best, and this school was one source of the strength that was in me, increasing my for- titude, my intellectual and moral resources, and my love of my work,” we, your teach- ers here, shall be lighter of heart, and firmer of purpose, as we rejoice with you that under the purple and gold of the Wes- tern Normal you have nobly striven to in- fluence the times in which we live by hold- ing fast to and increasing the righteousness which exalteth a nation, thereby influen- cing for good all the times which are to follow. Macomb, 111., May 30, 1909. 35