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of a man pushing forward with such dynamic thoughts in his head as these: "I am not required to succeed. I am not required to be victorious, I am not responsible for the outcome; I have succeeded, I have been victorious if I push straight ahead, get my quietus from the front and not from the back, and fall in the last ditch." How exceedingly valuable a man like that is to himself, how precious to a country. People admire and worship courage by a deep-seated instinct. They know its worth. And this is why down there at the World's Fair the people overlooked the magnificence, the luxury, the beauty and the splendor of the model railway train or passed by it with indifference, while they stood in hushed, uncovered crowds about the old boat in which Grace Darling made her daring rescues.
Just think of the difference in the productive power of a man who goes into the world a drafted man, expecting wrong, anticipating defeat, feeling that he is a mere misused puppet, the victim of some pitiless conspiracy, and the man who goes into the world a volunteer, feeling that he is in some sort a creator, a doer or poet in the world and expecting nothing but victory.
Think, for example, of the two kinds of poverty.
One of the mob arrested in Chicago not long ago testified that he had been without food for three days. Then they searched him and found two dollars and forty cents in his pocket And somebody suggested that this money was probably "trust funds." Well, this poor, debased, perjured coward represents one kind of poverty.
I knew a woman once who was left a widow with little children to support. She had neither money nor strength nor health; but she had courage. She left her friends and acquaintances in the cast, and went to a new country among strangers. And there she fought her battle. It was little she could earn; but when she had nothing she spent nothing. She was refined; she was timid; she was unused to the world; yet she shrank from no honest means of earning a living. She had tastes; she loved beautiful things; but her home was poor and bare, and one
dress outlived a dozen changes of fashion. She fought her battle. She never complained. She was always cheerful. People came to her for sympathy; she never went to others. She kept her children in school and church. She infused into them her own self respect and courage. They wore patches and were thankful that they had five cents to spend on the Fourth of July. But such was that mother's marvelous wisdom that until these children grew up and were as well launched in the world as money could have launched them, they never even dreamed that they were poor. And they were not. They were rich.
Think of the difference between these two cases—of the courage of this woman—of the cowarice of that man.
Now, ignorance is always fear—fear and danger. Knowledge is courage—courage and safety. Terror is of the night, not of the light. Your education is a shaking of fear. You are learning to value the things of life at their real worth. You are getting out of the night and shadows into the clear day—you are taking on courage.
Integrity: I know that to speak of integrity as a money-making quality is to run counter to a good deal of frivolous comment and to the teachings of the cynic, but it is to have the unqualified support of the real business world. Of course nobody denies that honesty is profitable, speaking from the standpoint of the nation. Everybody knows that to the community, taken as a whole, dishonesty is wanton waste and destruction. A nation of thieves is a nation of paupers. But many would have you believe that while honesty is a good thing for the nation, there is no money in it to you. My experience is that this is a gross mistake. I say you cannot take any commodity to market today that will sell quicker or bring a higher price than just plain honesty. The whole world is employing someone or dealing with someone perpetually, and the whole world is asking just one question every hour of the day; "Can I trust this man?" This has become especially true now that men act, so much more than formerly, through agents, servants, and trustees. Honesty alone will not make you rich any more than dishonesty alone; but speaking
from a very gross, material, worldly point of view. let me say that it takes a very smart shrewd man—a financial genius—to make money out of rascality. Depend upon it, you are not smart enough.
Now, a liberal education defends a man against the assaults of dishonest impulses. It makes him stronger to meet temptation and it diminishes the temptation. It lessens the value of material things and increases the value of other things. If a man be a mere money bag, he is worthless until filled, and he collapses as soon as he is emptied. Therefore, when temptation comes, he falls as a matter of course. But with one who is related to the great beautiful world of nature and humanity in a thousand ways besides through the bank, the case is different. When temptation comes to him, when the bribe is offered to him, he is more likely to say: "Keep your thousand; keep your hundred thousand; keep your dollars and your offices; I have the honor to be a man Keep your ease, your luxury, your distinction, your social position; I have the exquisite honor to be a woman!"
The next query you may put to me may be: "Shall I, through my education, be any more likely to become a millionaire?" Well, I hope not. Opinions differ here, but I am inclined to think not. My observation is that in ninety cases out of a hundred a man to become rich must just about worship money; must delve and dig and sweat and spend his years and his strength. He must see nothing but money—nothing but money in all his journey through the world. He must make money his supreme object, to that he must bend every energy of mind and body. He must harden his heart and tighten his grip and shut his eyes and so grow old. Now, I say that the man who makes money the supreme object of his endeavor, who subordinates everything else to that, who measures success by that, who rates his fellow citizens on the basis of Dunn or Bradstreet, is a fool. And this is not cant, nor sentimentalism, nor religion, but reason and logic and good, plain, horse sense. And to see it you have only to imagine the whole world animated by that kind of insanity. What a tremendous and immediate exo-