Chapter 8

Your Opportunity Is Here: What Will You Do With It?

17 min

Never before was the opportunity of the educated man so great as to-day. Never before was there such a demand for the trained man, the man who can do a thing superbly well. At the door of every vocation is a sign out, "Wanted—a man." No matter how many millions are out of employment, the whole world is hunting for a man who can do things; a trained thinker who can do whatever he undertakes a little better than it has ever before been done. Everywhere it is the educated, the trained man, the man whose natural ability has been enlarged, enhanced one hundredfold by superior training, that is wanted.

Never before has the educated man had such great opportunities. Never before has there been such demand for the trained man, the man who can do something superbly well. At the entrance to every occupation is a sign: "Wanted: a man." No matter how many millions are unemployed, the whole world is searching for a man who can get things done. It wants a trained thinker who can do whatever he undertakes a little better than it has ever been done before. Everywhere, what is wanted is the educated, trained man, whose natural ability has been increased a hundredfold by superior training.

On all sides we see men with small minds, but who are well educated, pushing ahead of those who have greater capabilities, but who are only half educated. A one-talent man, superbly trained, often gets the place when a man with many untrained or half-trained talents loses it. Never was ignorance placed at such a disadvantage as to-day.

Everywhere we see well-educated men of limited minds getting ahead of more capable men who are only half educated. A man with one talent, superbly trained, often gets the position over a man with many untrained or half-trained talents. Never has ignorance been such a disadvantage as it is today.

While the opportunities awaiting the educated man, the college graduate, on his entrance into practical life were never before so great and so numerous as to-day, so also the dangers and temptations which beset him were never before so great, so numerous, so insidious.

Today, educated men, including college graduates, have more opportunities than ever before as they enter working life. But the dangers and temptations they face have never been greater, more numerous, or more insidious.

All education which does not elevate, refine, and ennoble its recipient is a curse instead of a blessing. A liberal education only renders a rascal more dishonest, more dangerous. Educated rascality is infinitely more of a menace to society than ignorant rascality.

All education that does not uplift, refine, and ennoble the person receiving it is a curse, not a blessing. A broad education only makes a dishonest person more dishonest and more dangerous. Educated dishonesty is infinitely more of a threat to society than ignorant dishonesty.

Every year, thousands of young men and young women graduate full of ambition and hope, full of expectancy, go out from the schools, the colleges, and the universities, with their diplomas, to face for the first time the practical world.

Every year, thousands of young men and women graduate from schools, colleges, and universities. Full of ambition, hope, and expectation, they take their diplomas and enter the practical world for the first time.

There is nothing else, perhaps, which the graduate needs to be cautioned against more than the money madness which has seized the American people, for nothing else is more fatal to the development of the higher, finer instincts and nobler desires.

Perhaps nothing is more important for graduates to guard against than the obsession with money that has seized the American people. For nothing is more destructive to the development of higher, finer instincts and nobler desires.

Wealth with us multiplies a man's power so tremendously that everything gravitates toward it. A man's genius, art, what he stands for, is measured largely by how many dollars it will bring. "How much can I get for my picture?" "How much royalty for my book?" "How much can I get out of my specialty, my profession, my business?" "How can I make the most money?" or "How can I get rich?" is the great interrogation of the century. How will the graduate, the trained young man or woman answer it?

In our society, wealth multiplies a man's power so enormously that everything is drawn toward it. A man's genius, art, and what he stands for are judged largely by how much money they can bring in. "How much can I get for my picture?" "How much will I earn in royalties for my book?" "How much can I make from my specialty, my profession, or my business?" "How can I make the most money?" or "How can I get rich?" is the great question of the century. How will the graduate, the trained young man or woman, answer it?

The dollar stands out so strongly in all the undertakings of life that the ideal is often lowered or lost, the artistic suffers, the soul's wings are weighted down with gold. The commercial spirit tends to drag everything down to its dead, sordid level. It is the subtle menace which threatens to poison the graduate's ambition. Whichever way you turn, the dollar-mark will swing info your vision. The money-god, which nearly everybody worships in some form or other, will tempt you on every hand.

Money looms so large in everything we do that ideals are often lowered or lost. Art suffers, and the soul's wings are weighed down with gold. The commercial spirit tends to drag everything down to its lifeless, sordid level. It is a subtle threat that could poison the graduate's ambition. Wherever you turn, the dollar sign will come into view. The money god, which nearly everyone worships in some form, will tempt you at every turn.

Never before was such pressure brought to bear on the trained youth to sell his brains, to coin his ability into dollars, to prostitute his education, as to-day. The commercial prizes held up to him are so dazzling, so astounding, that it takes a strong, vigorous character to resist their temptation, even when the call in one to do something which bears little relation to money-making speaks very loudly.

Never before have educated young people faced such pressure to sell their brains, turn their abilities into dollars, and misuse their education. The financial rewards offered are so dazzling, so astonishing, that resisting them takes a strong, vigorous character. That is true even when a person feels a powerful calling to do something that has little to do with making money.

The song of the money-siren to-day is so persistent, so entrancing, so overwhelming that it often drowns the still small voice which bids one follow the call that runs in his blood, that is indicated in the very structure in his brain.

Today, the siren song of money is so persistent, entrancing, and overwhelming that it often drowns out a quiet inner voice. That voice urges a person to follow the calling in their blood, the calling reflected in the very structure of their brain.

Tens of thousands of young people just out of school and college stand tiptoe on the threshold of active life, with high ideals and glorious visions, full of hope and big with promise, but many of them will very quickly catch the money contagion; the fatal germ will spread through their whole natures, inoculating their ambition with its vicious virus, and, after a few years, their fair college vision will fade, their yearnings for something higher will gradually die and be replaced by material, sordid, selfish ideals.

Tens of thousands of young people have just left school and college and stand eagerly at the threshold of working life. They have high ideals and glorious visions. They are full of hope and promise. But many will quickly catch the money contagion. Its fatal germ will spread through their whole beings, infecting their ambition with its vicious virus. After a few years, their beautiful college visions will fade. Their longing for something higher will gradually die, replaced by materialistic, sordid, selfish ideals.

The most unfortunate day in a youth's career is that one on which his ideals begin to grow dim and his high standards begin to drop; that day on which is born in him the selfish, money-making germ, which so often warps and wrenches the whole nature out of its legitimate orbit.

The most unfortunate day in a young person's life is when their ideals begin to fade and their high standards start to drop. On that day, the selfish desire to make money takes root. This desire so often twists a person's whole nature away from its proper course.

You will need to be constantly on your guard to resist the attack of this germ. After you graduate and go out into the world, powerful influences will be operative in your life, tending to deteriorate your standards, lower your ideals, and encoarsen you generally.

You will need to stay on guard against this germ. After you graduate and go out into the world, powerful influences will affect your life. They will tend to weaken your standards, lower your ideals, and make you generally coarser.

When you plunge into the swim of things, you will be constantly thrown into contact with those of lower ideals, who are actuated only by sordid, selfish aims. Then dies the man, the woman in you, unless you are made of superior stuff.

When you plunge into the thick of things, you will constantly meet people with lower ideals. They are driven only by selfish, base goals. Then the man or woman in you dies, unless you are made of stronger stuff.

What a contrast that high and noble thing which the college diploma stands for presents to that which many owners of the diploma stand for a quarter of a century later! It is often difficult to recognize any relationship between the two.

What a contrast between the high and noble ideals a college diploma represents and what many graduates represent twenty-five years later! It is often hard to see any connection between the two.

American-Indian graduates, who are so transformed by the inspiring, uplifting influences of the schools and colleges which are educating them that they are scarcely recognizable by their own tribes when they return home, very quickly begin to change under the deteriorating influences operating upon them when they leave college. They soon begin to shed their polish, their fine manners, their improved language, and general culture; the Indian blanket replaces their modern dress, and they gradually drift back into their former barbarism. They become Indians again.

American-Indian graduates are transformed by the inspiring, uplifting influence of the schools and colleges that educate them. When they return home, their own tribes scarcely recognize them. But once they leave college, the harmful influences around them quickly begin to change them. They soon begin to lose their polish, fine manners, improved language, and general culture. The Indian blanket replaces their modern dress, and they gradually drift back into their former barbarism. They become Indians again.

The influences that will surround you when you leave college or your special training school will be as potent to drag you down as those that cause the young Indian to revert to barbarism. The shock you will receive in dropping from the atmosphere of high ideals and beautiful promise in which you have lived for four years to that of a very practical, cold, sordid materiality will be a severe test to your character, your manhood.

When you leave college or your specialized training school, the influences around you will be powerful enough to drag you down. They will be as powerful as those that cause the young Indian to return to barbarism. For four years, you have lived in an atmosphere of high ideals and beautiful promise. Moving from that atmosphere into a practical, cold, and sordid material world will be a shock. It will severely test your character and your manhood.

But the graduate whose training, whose education counts for anything ought to be able to resist the shock, to withstand all temptations.

But a graduate whose training and education are worth anything should be able to withstand the shock and resist all temptations.

The educated man ought to be able to do something better, something higher than merely to put money in his purse. Money-making can not compare with man-making. There is something infinitely better than to be a millionaire of money, and that is to be a millionaire of brains, of culture, of helpfulness to one's fellows, a millionaire of character—a gentleman.

An educated man should be able to do something better and higher than simply make money. Making money cannot compare with building character. There is something infinitely better than being a millionaire in money. It is being a millionaire in intelligence, culture, and helpfulness to others. It is being a millionaire in character, a gentleman.

Whatever degrees you carry from school or college, whatever distinction you may acquire in your career, no title will ever mean quite so much, will ever be quite so noble, as that of gentleman.

Whatever degrees you earn from school or college, and whatever honors you may receive in your career, no title will ever mean quite as much or be quite as noble as “gentleman.”

"A keen and sure sense of honor," says Ex-President Eliot, of Harvard University, "is the finest result of college life." The graduate who has not acquired this keen and sure sense of honor, this thing that stamps the gentleman, misses the best thing that a college education can impart.

"A strong and reliable sense of honor," says former Harvard University president Eliot, "is the finest result of college life." A graduate who has not gained this sense of honor misses the best thing a college education can offer. It is what makes a gentleman.

Your future, fortunate graduate, like a great block of pure white marble, stands untouched before you. You hold the chisel and mallet—your ability, your education—in your hands. There is something in the block for you, and it lives in your ideal. Shall it be angel or devil? What are your ideals, as you stand tiptoe on the threshold of active life? Will you smite the block and shatter it into an unshapely or hideous piece; or will you call out a statue of usefulness, of grace and beauty, a statue which will tell the unborn generations the story of a noble life?

Your future, fortunate graduate, stands untouched before you like a great block of pure white marble. You hold the chisel and mallet in your hands: your ability and your education. Something meant for you lies within the block, and it lives in your ideal. Will it be an angel or a devil? What are your ideals as you stand on tiptoe at the threshold of active life? Will you strike the block and shatter it into a shapeless or ugly piece? Or will you bring out a statue of usefulness, grace, and beauty? Will it tell generations yet unborn the story of a noble life?

Great advantages bring great responsibilities. You can not divorce them. A liberal education greatly increases a man's obligations. There is coupled with it a responsibility which you can not shirk without paying the penalty in a shriveled soul, a stunted mentality, a warped conscience, and a narrow field of usefulness. It is more of a disgrace for a college graduate to grovel, to stoop to mean, low practises, than for a man who has not had a liberal education. The educated man has gotten a glimpse of power, of grander things, and he is expected to look up, not down, to aspire, not to grovel.

Great advantages bring great responsibilities. You cannot separate them. A broad education greatly increases a man's obligations. It brings responsibilities he cannot avoid without paying a price. That price is a shriveled soul, a stunted mind, a warped conscience, and limited usefulness. It is more shameful for a college graduate to sink to mean, low behavior than for someone without a broad education. An educated man has glimpsed power and greater things. He is expected to look up, not down, and to aim high, not stoop low.

We cannot help feeling that it is worse for a man to go wrong who has had all the benefits of a liberal education, than it is for one who has not had glimpses of higher things, who has not had similar advantages, because where much is given, much is expected. The world has a right to expect that wherever there is an educated, trained man people should be able to say of him as Lincoln said of Walt Whitman, "There goes a man."

We cannot help feeling that it is worse for a man to go wrong after receiving all the benefits of a broad education. It is worse than when a man without those advantages, who has not glimpsed higher things, goes wrong. Because much is expected of those who have been given much. The world has a right to expect that people can say of every educated, trained man what Lincoln said of Walt Whitman: "There goes a man."

The world has a right to expect that the graduate, having once faced the light and felt its power, will not turn his back on it; that he will not disgrace his alma mater which has given him his superior chance in life and opened wide for him the door of opportunity. It has a right to expect that a man who has learned how to use skilfully the tools of life, will be an artist and not an artisan; that he will not stop growing. Society has a right to look to the collegian to be a refining, uplifting force in his community, an inspiration to those who have not had his priceless chance; it is justified in expecting that he will raise the standard of intelligence in his community; that he will illustrate in his personality, his finer culture, the possible glory of life. It has a right to expect that he will not be a victim of the narrowing, cramping influence of avarice; that he will not be a slave of the dollar or stoop to a greedy, grasping career: that he will be free from the sordidness which often characterizes the rich ignoramus.

The world has a right to expect that a graduate will not turn his back on the light, once he has faced it and felt its power. It can expect him not to disgrace his alma mater, which has given him a better chance in life and opened the door of opportunity wide for him. The world can expect a man who has learned to use the tools of life skillfully to be an artist, not just a craftsman. It can expect him to keep growing. Society has a right to look to the college graduate as a force that refines and uplifts his community. It can expect him to inspire those who have not had his priceless opportunity. Society is justified in expecting him to raise the standard of intelligence in his community. It can expect his character and refined culture to show how glorious life can be. It can expect him not to fall victim to the narrowing and limiting influence of greed. It can expect him not to be a slave of the dollar or stoop to a greedy, grasping career. It can expect him to be free from the sordidness that often characterizes the rich ignoramus.

If you have the ability and have been given superior opportunities, it simply means that you have a great commission to do something out of the ordinary for your fellows; a special message for humanity.

If you have talent and have been given exceptional opportunities, it means you have an important mission. You are meant to do something extraordinary for others and deliver a special message to humanity.

If the torch of learning has been put in your hand, its significance is that you should light up the way for the less fortunate.

If you have been given the torch of learning, you should use it to light the way for those less fortunate.

If you have received a message which carries freedom for people enslaved by ignorance and bigotry, you have no right to suppress it. Your education means an increased obligation to live your life up to the level of your gift, your superior opportunity. Your duty is to deliver your message to the world with all the manliness, vigor, and force you possess.

If you have received a message that can free people enslaved by ignorance and bigotry, you have no right to keep it to yourself. Your education gives you a greater duty to live up to your gifts and greater opportunities. You must deliver your message to the world with all the courage, energy, and strength you possess.

What shall we think of a man who has been endowed with godlike gifts, who has had the inestimable advantage of a liberal education, who has ability to ameliorate the hard conditions of his fellows, to help to emancipate them from ignorance and drudgery; what shall we think of this man, so divinely endowed, so superbly equipped, who, instead of using his education to lift his fellow men, uses it to demoralize, to drag them down; who employs his talents in the book he writes, in the picture he paints, in his business, whatever it may be, to mislead, to demoralize, to debauch; who uses his light as a decoy to lure his fellows on the rocks and reefs, instead of as a beacon to guide them into port?

What should we think of a man gifted with godlike abilities and blessed with the priceless advantage of a broad education? He has the ability to improve the hard conditions others face and help free them from ignorance and drudgery. What should we think of this divinely gifted, superbly equipped man if he uses his education to corrupt and drag others down instead of lifting them up? What if he uses his talents to mislead, corrupt, and deprave, whether in a book, a painting, or his business, whatever it may be? What if he uses his light as a decoy to lure others onto rocks and reefs, instead of as a beacon to guide them safely into port?

We imprison the burglar for breaking into our houses and stealing, but what shall we do with the educated rascal who uses his trained mind and all his gifts to ruin the very people who look up to him as a guide?

We put burglars in prison for breaking into our homes and stealing. But what should we do with the educated crook who uses his trained mind and all his gifts to ruin the very people who look up to him for guidance?

"The greatest thing you can do is to be what you ought to be."

"The greatest thing you can do is be who you should be."

A great man has said that no man will be content to live a half life when he has once discovered it is a half life, because the other half, the higher half, will haunt him. Your superior training has given you a glimpse of the higher life. Never lose sight of your college vision. Do not permit yourself to be influenced by the maxims of a low, sordid prudence, which will be dinned into your ears wherever you go. Regard the very suggestion that you shall coin your education, your high ideals into dollars; that you lower your standards, prostitute your education by the practise of low-down, sordid methods, as an insult.

A great man once said that no one will be content to live a half life after discovering it is only half a life. The other half, the higher half, will haunt them. Your superior education has given you a glimpse of the higher life. Never lose sight of the vision you gained in college. Wherever you go, people will constantly urge you to follow the rules of a narrow, selfish kind of caution. Do not let them influence you. Treat any suggestion that you turn your education and high ideals into dollars as an insult. Treat it as an insult when anyone suggests that you lower your standards or debase your education by using dishonest, selfish methods.

Say to yourself, "If the highest thing in me will not bring success, surely the lowest, the worst, cannot."

Say to yourself, "If the best in me won't bring success, surely the lowest and worst cannot."

The mission of the trained man is to show the world a higher, finer type of manhood.

The trained man's mission is to show the world a higher, finer example of manhood.

The world has a right to expect better results from the work of the educated man; something finer, of a higher grade, and better quality, than from the man who lacks early training, the man who has discovered only a small part of himself. "Pretty good," "Fairly good," applied either to character or to work are bad mottoes for an educated man. You should be able to demonstrate that the man with a diploma has learned to use the tools of life skilfully; has learned how to focus his faculties so that he can bring the whole man to his task, and not a part of himself. Low ideals, slipshod work, aimless, systemless, half-hearted endeavors, should have no place in your program.

The world has a right to expect better work from an educated man. His work should be finer and of higher quality than that of a man without early training, who has discovered only a small part of himself. "Pretty good" and "Fairly good" are bad mottoes for an educated man, whether they describe his character or his work. You should be able to show that a man with a diploma has learned to use the tools of life skillfully. He should have learned to focus his abilities so that he can bring his whole self to a task, not just part of himself. Low ideals, careless work, and aimless, disorganized, half-hearted efforts should have no place in your plans.

It is a disgrace for a man with a liberal education to botch his work, demoralize his ideals, discredit his teachers, dishonor the institution which has given him his chance to be a superior man.

It is a disgrace for a man with a broad education to do his work badly and undermine his ideals. It is also a disgrace to discredit his teachers and dishonor the institution that gave him the chance to become a better man.

"Keep your eye on the model, don't watch your hands," is the injunction of a great master as he walks up and down among his pupils, criticizing their work. The trouble with most of us is that we do not keep our eyes on the model; we lose our earlier vision. A liberal education ought to broaden a man's mind so that he will be able to keep his eye always on the model, the perfect ideal of his work, uninfluenced by the thousand and one petty annoyances, bickerings, misunderstandings, and discords which destroy much of the efficiency of narrower, less cultivated minds.

"Keep your eye on the model, don't watch your hands," says a great master. He walks among his students, critiquing their work. The trouble with most of us is that we do not keep our eyes on the model. We lose our early vision. A broad education should open a person's mind so they can always keep their eye on the model, the perfect ideal of their work. They should be unaffected by the countless petty annoyances, quarrels, misunderstandings, and conflicts that greatly reduce the effectiveness of narrower, less cultivated minds.

The graduate ought to be able to rise above these things so that he can use all his brain power and energy and fling the weight of his entire being into work that is worth while.

The graduate should be able to rise above these things. Then he can use all his brainpower and energy and put his whole being into worthwhile work.

After the withdrawal of a play that has been only a short time on the stage, we often read this comment, "An artistic success, but a financial failure." While an education should develop all that is highest and best in a man, it should also make him a practical man, not a financial failure. Be sure that you possess your knowledge, that your knowledge does not possess you.

When a play closes after a short run, we often read this comment: "An artistic success, but a financial failure." Education should develop all that is highest and best in a man. But it should also make him practical, not a financial failure. Make sure you possess your knowledge, rather than letting your knowledge possess you.

The mere possession of a diploma will only hold you up to ridicule, will only make you more conspicuous as a failure, if you cannot bring your education to a focus and utilize it in a practical way.

A diploma alone will only expose you to ridicule and make your failure more noticeable if you cannot focus your education and put it to practical use.

Knowledge is power only when it can be made available, practical.

Knowledge is power only when it can be put to practical use.

Only what you can use of your education will benefit you or the world.

Only the education you can use will benefit you or the world.

The great question which confronts you in the practical world is "What can you do with what you know?" Can you transmute your knowledge into power? Your ability to read your Latin diploma is not a test of true education; a stuffed memory does not make an educated man. The knowledge that can be utilized, that can be translated into power, constitutes the only education worthy of the name. There are thousands of college-bred men in this country, who are loaded down with knowledge that they have never been able to utilize, to make available for working purposes. There is a great difference between absorbing knowledge, making a sponge of one's brain, and transmuting every bit of knowledge into power, into working capital.

The great question you face in the practical world is "What can you do with what you know?" Can you turn your knowledge into power? Your ability to read your Latin diploma is not a test of true education. A head stuffed with facts does not make an educated person. Only knowledge that can be used and turned into power is an education worthy of the name. In this country, thousands of college-educated men are loaded down with knowledge they have never been able to put to practical use. There is a great difference between soaking up knowledge like a sponge and turning every bit of it into power, into working capital.

As the silkworm transmutes the mulberry leaf into satin, so you should transmute your knowledge into practical wisdom.

Just as the silkworm turns the mulberry leaf into satin, you should turn your knowledge into practical wisdom.

There is no situation in life in which the beneficent influence of a well-assimilated education will not make itself felt.

In every situation in life, the benefits of a truly absorbed education will make themselves felt.

The college man ought to be a superb figure anywhere. The consciousness of being well educated should put one at ease in any society. The knowledge that one's mentality has been broadened out by college training, that one has discovered his possibilities, not only adds wonderfully to one's happiness, but also increases one's self-confidence immeasurably, and self-confidence is the lever that moves the world. On every hand we see men of good ability who feel crippled all their lives and are often mortified, by having to confess, by the poverty of their language, their sordid ideals, their narrow outlook on life, that they are not educated. The superbly trained man can go through the world with his head up and feel conscious that he is not likely to play the ignoramus in any company, or be mortified or pained by ignorance of matters which every well-informed person is supposed to know. This assurance of knowledge multiplies self-confidence and gives infinite satisfaction.

A college man ought to be an impressive figure anywhere. Knowing he is well educated should put him at ease in any company. College training broadens his mind and helps him discover his potential. Knowing this adds greatly to his happiness and increases his self-confidence beyond measure. And self-confidence is the lever that moves the world. Everywhere we see capable men who feel held back all their lives because they lack an education. Their limited vocabulary, low ideals, and narrow outlook on life often reveal that lack, to their embarrassment. A thoroughly educated man can go through the world with his head held high. He knows he is unlikely to appear ignorant in any company. He is also unlikely to feel embarrassed or hurt by not knowing things every well-informed person is expected to know. This assurance of knowledge strengthens his self-confidence and gives him infinite satisfaction.

In other words, a liberal education makes a man think a little more of himself, feel a little surer of himself, have more faith in himself, because he has discovered himself. There is also great satisfaction in the knowledge that one has not neglected the unfoldment and expansion of his mind, that he has not let the impressionable years of youth go by unimproved.

In other words, a liberal education makes a man think a little more of himself. It makes him feel a little more confident and have more faith in himself because he has discovered who he is. There is also great satisfaction in knowing that he has not neglected to develop and expand his mind. He has not let the impressionable years of youth pass without making good use of them.

But the best thing you carry from your alma mater is not what you there prized most, not your knowledge of the sciences, languages, literature, art; it is something infinitely more sacred, of greater value than all these, and that is your aroused ambition, your discovery of yourself, of your powers, of your possibilities; your resolution to be a little more of a man, to play a manly part in life, to do the greatest, grandest thing possible to you. This will mean infinitely more to you than all you have learned from books or lectures.

But the best thing you take from your alma mater is not what you valued most there. It is not your knowledge of science, languages, literature, or art. It is something infinitely more sacred and more valuable than all of these. It is your awakened ambition and your discovery of yourself, your abilities, and your possibilities. It is your resolve to be a little more of a man, to play a manly part in life, and to do the greatest, grandest thing you can. This will mean infinitely more to you than all you have learned from books or lectures.

The most precious thing of all, however, if you have made the most of your chance, is the uplift, encouragement, inspiration, which you have absorbed from your teachers, from your associations; this is the embodiment of the college spirit, the spirit of your alma mater; it is that which should make you reach up as well as on, which should make you aspire instead of grovel—look up, instead of down.

But if you have made the most of your opportunity, the most precious thing of all is what you have gained from your teachers and the people around you. Their influence has lifted your spirits, encouraged you, and inspired you. This is the college spirit, the spirit of your alma mater. It should make you reach upward as well as forward. It should make you aspire instead of grovel, and look up instead of down.

The graduate should regard his education as a sacred trust. He should look upon it as a power to be used, not alone for his advancement, or for his own selfish ends, but for the betterment of all mankind. As a matter of fact, things are so arranged in this world that no one can use his divine gift for himself alone and get the best out of it. To try to keep it would be as foolish as for the farmer to hoard his seed corn in a bin instead of giving it to the earth, for fear he would never get it back.

The graduate should regard his education as a sacred trust. He should see it as a power to be used not just for his own advancement or selfish purposes, but for the betterment of all humanity. In fact, the world is arranged so that no one can get the best out of his divine gift by using it for himself alone. Trying to keep that gift would be foolish. It would be like a farmer hoarding his seed corn in a bin instead of planting it, for fear he would never get it back.

The man who withholds the giving of himself to the world, does it at his peril, at the cost of mental and moral penury.

A man who holds himself back from the world does so at his peril, at the cost of mental and moral poverty.

The way to get the most out of ourselves, or out of life, is not to try to sell ourselves for the highest possible price but to give ourselves, not stingily, meanly, but royally, magnanimously, to our fellows. If the rosebud should try to retain all of its sweetness and beauty locked within its petals and refuse to give it out, it would be lost. It is only by flinging them out to the world that their fullest development is possible. The man who tries to keep his education, his superior advantages for himself, who is always looking out for the main chance, only shrivels, and strangles the very faculties he would develop.

The way to get the most out of ourselves or out of life is not to sell ourselves for the highest possible price. Instead, we must give ourselves, not stingily or grudgingly, but generously and wholeheartedly to others. If a rosebud tried to keep all its sweetness and beauty locked inside its petals, they would be lost. Only by sharing them with the world can its sweetness and beauty fully develop. A man may try to keep his education and advantages to himself, always looking for opportunities to get ahead. But he only shrivels and stifles the very abilities he hopes to develop.

The trouble with most of us is that, in our efforts to sell ourselves for selfish ends or for the most dollars, we impoverish our own lives, stifle our better natures.

The trouble with most of us is that we try to sell ourselves for selfish reasons or for the most money. In doing so, we impoverish our own lives and stifle our better natures.

The graduate should show the world that he has something in him too sacred to be tampered with, something marked "not for sale," a sacred something that bribery cannot touch, that influence cannot buy. You should so conduct yourself that every one will see that there is something in you that would repel as an insult the very suggestion that you could be bought or bribed, or influenced to stoop to anything low or questionable.

A graduate should show the world that something within him is too sacred to be tampered with. It is marked "not for sale." Bribery cannot touch it, and influence cannot buy it. You should act so that everyone sees this in you. They should know you would consider it an insult to be thought capable of being bought or bribed. You should also make clear that you would reject any attempt to influence you to do something low or questionable.

The college man who is cursed with commonness, who gropes along in mediocrity, who lives a shiftless, selfish life, and does not lift up his head and show that he has made the most of his great privileges disgraces the institution that gave him his chance.

A college man disgraces the institution that gave him his chance if he is cursed with being ordinary, struggles along in mediocrity, and lives a lazy, selfish life. He disgraces it if he does not hold his head high and show that he has made the most of his great opportunities.

You have not learned the best lesson from your school or college if you have not discovered the secret of making life a glory instead of a sordid grind. When you leave your alma mater, my young friend, whatever your vocation, do not allow all that is finest within you, your high ideals and noble purposes to be suffocated, strangled, in the everlasting scramble for the dollar. Put beauty into your life, do not let your esthetic faculties, your aspiring instincts, be atrophied in your efforts to make a living. Do not, as thousands of graduates do, sacrifice your social instincts, your friendships, your good name, for power or position.

You have not learned the best lesson from school or college if you have not discovered how to make life glorious instead of a dreary grind. When you leave your alma mater, my young friend, do not let the endless scramble for money suffocate and strangle all that is finest within you, whatever your profession. Do not let it smother your high ideals and noble purposes. Put beauty into your life. Do not let your sense of beauty or your desire for higher things wither as you make a living. Do not sacrifice your social instincts, your friendships, or your good name for power or position, as thousands of graduates do.

Whether you make money or lose it, never sell your divine heritage, your good name, for a mess of pottage. Whatever you do, be larger than your vocation; never let it be said of you that you succeeded in your vocation, but failed as a man.

Whether you make money or lose it, never sell your divine heritage, your good name, for a small gain. Whatever you do, be more than your job. Never let it be said that you succeeded in your work but failed as a man.

When William Story, the sculptor, was asked to make a speech at the unveiling of his great statue of George Peabody, in London, he simply pointed to the statue and said, "That is my speech."

William Story, the sculptor, was asked to speak at the unveiling of his great statue of George Peabody in London. He simply pointed to the statue and said, "That is my speech."

So conduct yourself that your life shall need no eulogy in words. Let it be its own eulogy, let your success tell to the world the story of a noble career. However much money you may accumulate, carry your greatest wealth with you, in a clean record, an unsullied reputation. Then you will not need houses or lands or stocks or bonds to testify to a rich life.

Live so that your life needs no eulogy in words. Let your life be its own eulogy. Let your success tell the world the story of a noble career. No matter how much money you accumulate, carry your greatest wealth with you: a clean record, an unblemished reputation. Then you will not need houses, land, stocks, or bonds to show that you have lived a rich life.

Never before did an opportunity to render such great service to mankind confront the educated youth as confronts you to-day. WHAT WILL YOU DO WITH IT?

Never before have educated young people had such a great opportunity to serve humanity as you have today. WHAT WILL YOU DO WITH IT?