centres of learning
and living, colleges that yearly would send into the life of the South
a few white men and a few black men of broad culture, catholic
tolerance, and trained ability, joining their hands to other hands, and
giving to this squabble of the Races a decent and dignified peace?

Patience, Humility, Manners, and Taste, common schools and
kindergartens, industrial and technical schools, literature and
tolerance,--all these spring from knowledge and culture, the children
of the university. So must men and nations build, not otherwise, not
upside down.

Teach workers to work,--a wise saying; wise when applied to German boys
and American girls; wiser when said of Negro boys, for they have less
knowledge of working and none to teach them. Teach thinkers to
think,--a needed knowledge in a day of loose and careless logic; and
they whose lot is gravest must have the carefulest training to think
aright. If these things are so, how foolish to ask what is the best
education for one or seven or sixty million souls! shall we teach them
trades, or train them in liberal arts? Neither and both: teach the
workers to work and the thinkers to think; make carpenters of
carpenters, and philosophers of philosophers, and fops of fools. Nor
can we pause here. We are training not isolated men but a living group
of men,--nay, a group within a group. And the final product of our
training must be neither a psychologist nor a brickmason, but a man.
And to make men, we must have ideals, broad, pure, and inspiring ends
of living,--not sordid money-getting, not apples of gold. The worker
must work for the glory of his handiwork, not simply for pay; the
thinker must think for truth, not for fame. And all this is gained
only by human strife and longing; by ceaseless training and education;
by founding Right on righteousness and Truth on the unhampered search
for Truth; by founding the common school on the university, and the
industrial school on the common school; and weaving thus a system, not
a distortion, and bringing a birth, not an abortion.

When night falls on the City of a Hundred Hills, a wind gathers itself
from the seas and comes murmuring westward. And at its bidding, the
smoke of the drowsy factories sweeps down upon the mighty city and
covers it like a pall, while yonder at the University the stars twinkle
above Stone Hall. And they say that yon gray mist is the tunic of
Atalanta pausing over her golden apples