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 Stanford University. Alumni 
 
 Association. 
 
 Addresses delivered before 
 the sixth annual meeting,.. 
 May 24, 1898, by Jefferson 
 Elmore, Charles J.C. Bennett.
 
 1 
 
 ROBERT ERIIEST COWAII
 
 ilj'
 
 Addresses Delivered before the Sixth 
 
 Annual Meeting of the Alumni 
 
 Association 
 
 Of the Leland Stanford Junior University 
 May 24, 1898 
 
 JEFFERSON ELMORE, '95 
 CHARLES J. C. BENNETT, '96 
 
 With an Account of the Proceedings of Alumni Day, and the 
 Treasurer's Report. 
 
 Published by the Alumni Association
 
 Addresses Delivered before the Sixth 
 
 Annual Meeting of the Alumni 
 
 Association 
 
 Of the Leland Stanford Junior University 
 May 24, 1898 
 
 JEFFERSON ELMORE, '95 
 CHARLES J. C. BENNETT, '96 
 
 With an Account of the Proceedings of Alumni Day, and the 
 Treasurer's Report. 
 
 , ,3 , , , ' , , 
 
 Published by the Alumm Association 
 
 1898.
 
 Press of C. A. Murdock & Co. 
 San Francisco.
 
 i-^oo »-r) (^-yf j 
 
 T 
 
 SOME INFLUENCES OF OUR UNIVER- 
 SITY, AND THEIR RELATION 
 TO LIFE. 
 
 I wish in this paper to call attention to some ways in which it 
 seems to me that our university influences the after-life of her 
 alumni. In doing so, I should like to be understood as speaking 
 from a purely personal standpoint. It is obvious, in the case of an 
 institution whose pride it is to minister to the special needs of the 
 individual, that every one is not affected by it in precisely the 
 same way ; so that my interpretation of the forces that were 
 brought to bear upon us, and of their relation to life, may not be 
 yours. 
 
 Doubtless there are general tendencies which act upon every 
 one that comes within the confines of these walls, and which, in 
 ^ spite of individual differences, tend to produce certain definite 
 ""l^ types of character. Still, I question very much if the time has 
 0= yet come to characterize these tendencies in general terms. A 
 g^ modern university, it need hardly be said, is an exceedingly com- 
 —^ plex institution. It brings into play forces that are not only hard 
 :« to measure, but that act and react upon one another in a most 
 g complicated manner. Moreover, in our own university, we have 
 to deal with special considerations. One of these* is the circum- 
 stances under which the teaching body performs its functions. 
 Not only is this body made up of men whose associations, whose 
 training, and whose views of life are most diverse, but it also acts in 
 an atmosphere of the greatest freedom. With this diversity of 
 character, and with liberty for each one to teach what seems to 
 him the truth, these trained scholars bring to bear the powerful 
 influence of their personalities on the young men and women that 
 look to them for inspiration and guidance. It must also be taken 
 into account that our university has existed but a short time. It 
 would be too much to expect, in this early period of adjustment, 
 
 SIS' 
 
 .370623
 
 lliat the forces which are at work here, and which each one of us 
 has felt so stroni^ly in his own Hfe, should have their general 
 trend clearly defined. Tliis will come when they have been 
 longer in operation, when their power has been made manifest in 
 a still greater number of human lives. In the mean time, one aid 
 to a determination of the common message the university has had 
 for us all, will be the record of what she has been to her indi- 
 vidual sons and tlaughters. To make a personal contribution of 
 this kind, in which you will no doubt find much for disagreement, 
 is the purpose of this paper. 
 
 If one should ask for the fundamental, distinctive influence 
 of the university, I should characterize it as moral, rather than 
 intellectual. In saying this, I do not wish to speak lightly of 
 the intellectual interests, but, important as they are, they do 
 not appear to me to be so powerful and so all-pervading as the 
 tendency toward right living. Even the new-comer, from his 
 very first day, has a distinct impression of this influence ; he 
 feels an impulse, not so much to study something as to do some- 
 thing, — something that shall give expression to the highest and 
 best part of his nature. Moreover, this deep sense of one's 
 relation to others, is as old as the university itself It used to 
 be said in the early days, by some who spoke without per- 
 sonal knowledge, that we had no atmosphere, and that we 
 should have one only after the laj^se of years. And yet, at that 
 very time, the atmosphere was here, and so distinctive that it 
 made us conspicuous in the academic world then as it does now. 
 
 Unmistakable as the presence of this influence is, it may seem 
 difficult to define so intangible a thing. And yet, in my opinion, 
 there is no doubt that the essence of it is a passion for humanity. 
 It comes from men eager to serve the welfare of others ; it stirs 
 in the hearts of those who come within its range the same 
 deep feeling, and so, by the interaction of thjse forces, it comes 
 about that the pre-eminent influence of our university life is an 
 interest in human life and a striving to make it more noble and 
 more fruitful. 
 
 There are many ways in which this love for humanity makes 
 its presence felt in the little world of student-life. We recall
 
 especially how it manifests itself in the relations that exist 
 between students themselves, and between them and their 
 teachers. Indeed, these relations are so well known, and in a 
 way so famous, that I need not dwell upon them. The sympathy 
 and the kindly consideration from one to another have already in 
 the past warmed many hearts; and the affectionate interest which 
 the one who teaches takes in the welfare of his pupil has borne 
 fruit in many lives. 
 
 Another indication of this same influence is the well-marked 
 feeling that everybody ought to do something in the world. 
 Education ought to lead to action, and not merely to contempla- 
 tion. In fact, the man is looked upon as a practical failure, who 
 does not put his training to the test in the performance of some 
 useful work. How strong this feeling really is, is perhaps best 
 understood by the graduate who, having left the university and 
 been engaged in active life, returns for additional study. He may 
 do so for the very best of reasons, but the old-time cordiality 
 gives way to a polite indifference warranted to chill the most 
 sanguine nature. As to his position in the student-world, he is 
 not nearly of so much consequence as the rawest freshman. A 
 case that illustrates and confirms what I am saying has come 
 under my notice. A graduate of the university, who has been 
 called to a responsible position in a foreign country, after suc- 
 cessfully pursuing his vocation for a year or two, decided, for 
 excellent reasons, to make a change. Seeing a few months of 
 inactivity ahead, he thought it would be pleasant as well as profi- 
 table to spend the time in his old haunts at the university. The 
 upshot was, that he came, endured the chill for a couple of weeks, 
 and then packed his trunk and fled to the warmer atmosphere of 
 Berkeley. This tendency to action, and the consequent interest 
 among students in the practical affairs of the world, is hard for 
 people from the outside to understand. The Mayor of San 
 Francisco, in a recent address to the Graduate Club on the pro- 
 posed new charter, apologized profusely for speaking on such a 
 subject to those who were in the quiet shades of academic life. 
 He did not understand the close relation which this ideal of 
 action establishes between this secluded life of study and the
 
 busy world outside. Now, whatever else may enter into this 
 glorification of doin^ some useful thing, it seems to me to arise 
 mainly from the feeling that the improvement of humanity is one 
 of the chief ends of life, and that he makes utter shipwreck and 
 failure who lets slip the opportunity to bear his part in this noble 
 service. Now, as in Judea of old, we must be about our Father's 
 business. 
 
 It is uniier this inthience that the university sends its graduates 
 into the world. How much such a view of life means both for the 
 world and for themselves, it would not be possible to over- 
 estimate. In the first place, it has put the graduate into posses- 
 sion of one great secret of life, — perhaps the greatest one of all. 
 It makes him feel that the way of life is not through the seeking 
 of his own interests, but in devotion to those of others. He 
 knows, so far as mere personal survival in the fierce struggle for 
 existence is concerned, that the man who lives for self sets in 
 motion the forces of his own destruction, but that he who forgets 
 himself for the sake of his brother arrays on his side all the forces 
 of the universe that make for life. He understands, also, as so 
 many have not, the profound wisdom of the great Teacher, when 
 he says : For whosoever will save his life shall lose it ; and 
 whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it. Animated with 
 such a spirit, — the precious gift of his own university, — our col- 
 lege man finds in service for others, not only personal success, and 
 all the pleasant things that go with it, but also the unfolding of 
 his own highest life. Then, again, let us think for a moment what 
 the presence of this devotion to humanity means in a community. 
 No one can express it in words ; nay more, one who has not seen 
 it can hardly believe the miracles that may be wrought by 
 unselfish love, — the coin that passes current among all kinds and 
 conditions of men, women, and children. It is through the work 
 of teaching that the community is to be mainly affected by this 
 spirit. In this field, the success of Stanford men and women has 
 been due largely to the fact that they are dominated by a desire to 
 accomplish something toward the ultimate perfection of the race, 
 — a feeling that turns the work of the teacher from mere drud- 
 gery into an absorbing passion. Nowhere is the influence of the
 
 university upon its graduates more strongly felt, and nowhere 
 is that influence passed on with greater power. 
 
 Another great influence which 1;he university exerts is the 
 religious one. In spite of the diversity of views held here in 
 matters of this kind, in spite of the bewilderment that sometimes 
 falls on the undergraduate, it has seemed to me that there is a 
 definite trend in a certain direction. This phase of the university's 
 significance has, perhaps, been more talked of than any other, 
 and I should say nothing about it, were it not for its absorbing 
 interest. In what I do say, I wish to keep in mind the fact that 
 many students experience in their college careers no vital change 
 in their religious beliefs. To these, and doubdess to many others, 
 there will be little or no relevance in what I have to say. 
 
 In just what terms this religious influence is to be formulated, 
 if it can be formulated at all, is, 6f course, a matter of individual 
 interpretation. Speaking for myself, I have no doubt that it 
 tends to a very important modification of certain beliefs gene- 
 rally considered as essential. In doing so, it does not leave one 
 who is influenced by it with no foundation to stand upon. 
 The statement, which is so often heard, that those who reject 
 accepted beliefs are at sea without anchor, is made without regard 
 to the facts. Indeed, a perfectly rational and satisfying theory of 
 life can be constructed with no reference to mediaeval dogmas. 
 Such a theory, I venture to think, is involved in our own religious 
 atmosphere. Roughly outlined, the main features, as they appear 
 to me, are God, a universe of law, salvation through putting 
 one's self in right relation to the forces that make for life, and the 
 uplifting of humanity through the power of love as the ultimate 
 end of our existence. With such a belief men can live and die ; 
 with it, moreover, they can transform the world 
 
 Assuming, then, that a graduate of the university, through his 
 own studies in an atmosphere such as we have here, has come 
 into some such philosophy of life, he is brought face to face with 
 the delicate question of his relation to the part of the community 
 that retains the old beliefs. His position is not at all an easy one. 
 For the church is an exceedingly important institution. Around 
 it center traditions of long standing, tender associations, and an
 
 8 
 
 increasinjij ainount of social activity. Then again, the church is 
 sometimes not as tolerant as it might be, especially when it feels 
 that essential doctrines arc being called in cjuestion. What, then, 
 shall be the attitude of the college man toward this venerable and 
 powerful organization, coming, as he does, with convictions of 
 his own, and desiring unselfishly to help his fellows to a better 
 life ? 
 
 Under the circumstances, it seems to me that two courses of 
 action are open, one or the other of which is likely to be followed. 
 One of these, with no disparaging implication, I venture to call 
 the course of compromise. The one who holds to it sees in the 
 church a long-established institution which has been and is a 
 most important factor in our civilization, and in whose activities at 
 present the best men and women of every community are engaged. 
 He also assumes that in respect to belief the church is in a stage 
 of transition, and that the time will come when it will divest itself 
 of all traces of mediaeval dogma. In the mean time, it is the duty 
 of the man with university training to help along this period of 
 transition. His own convictions, at least so far as they conflict 
 with the convictions of others, are to be held somewhat in abey- 
 ance. If he interprets their articles of belief in one way and his 
 neighbor in another, if where he sees "poetry" the other sees 
 "science," this is not to prevent them from worshipping and 
 working together. In the fullness of time, through his own co- 
 operation and that of men like him, and through other forces that 
 always make for progress, the church is to be transformed, in 
 which great movement he will have borne an honorable part. 
 
 The other course that is open to the university man with 
 serious views of life is, in many respects, the opposite of this 
 one. The main thing about it, perhaps, is the fact that he is 
 perfectly honest and frank in the expression of his own beliefs. 
 He does not, of course, go about in a spirit of propaganda, seek- 
 ing to upset the cherished convictions of others. Neither does 
 he conceal or with specious interpretation dilute what he himself 
 really believes, but on all proper occasions, with tact and with 
 the utmost tolerance lor the opinions of others, he gives brave 
 and manly utterance to his own conception of the truth. From
 
 this attitude, there results a certain isolation from the church. 
 Whoever assumes it must find other sources for his own religious 
 life, and through other instrumentalities he must chiefly accom- 
 plish his part in the upbuilding of huAianity. 
 
 Now this second attitude of perfect honesty and candor is the 
 one, in my opinion, that ought to be assumed toward the old 
 beliefs. If it involves, in our work, the loss of the organization 
 of the church with its countless possibilities of influence, it at least 
 saves the integrity of the individual character. No one has the 
 right to say anything that tends to overthrow established beliefs, 
 unless his own convictions are grounded on the most careful 
 study. But when once these convictions have been formed, it is 
 the highest duty of every honest man to speak out what he 
 actually believes. Questions of mighty import stare us all in the 
 face, — questions of our relation to this life and to the life beyond. 
 Whoever, then, has an answer to these questions different from the 
 answer of tradition, is bound not only for others, but also for the 
 sake of the integrity of his own soul, to speak out his message 
 without evasion and without reservation. It is this loyalty to their 
 conception of the truth, this unwillingness to put themselves in a 
 false position, that keeps many university men and women out of 
 the church. 
 
 And it may be after all, that, for the church, whose useful- 
 ness we all wish to see preserved and increased, it is just as 
 well, for the present at least, that this should be so. Institutions, 
 it is true, develop from within ; it is also true that they are 
 influenced from without. In the case of the church, there are no 
 doubt forces at work within, which in the course of time will bring 
 about many changes ; but it seems to me that there are serious 
 difficulties in the way of hastening from within the operation of 
 these forces. One is the difficulty which an earnest and honest 
 holder of the new gospel finds in identifying himself with an 
 organization whose fundamental beliefs he cannot accept. 
 Assuming that such a man is in the church by some kind of 
 moral legerdemain, what shall he do ? He is confronted with a 
 creed for the propagation of which the church mainly exists, and 
 by which even he himself is more or less vitally bound. For this
 
 lO 
 
 he would substitute his own deeper views; but if he should say a 
 single word against doctrines considered essential, — for example, 
 that of the vicarious atonement, — if he should seek to place an 
 interpretation upon them different from that of plain Christian 
 people, he would be guilty almost of an act of treachery. His 
 very position has tied his hands. And so under the present con- 
 ditions, the influences that may be brought to bear from without 
 for the transformation of the church are quite as important as those 
 from within. These influences from without will make themselves 
 felt especially through the younger generation. To them is to be 
 carried with hands unhampered the message of the new truth, 
 and when this is done, the object which we all desire will be within 
 reach. In this work it is fitting that the graduates of our uni- 
 versity should bear a conspicuous part. 
 
 1 wish now to turn for a moment to purely intellectual influences. 
 Here I shall be content with a few words; because, highly import- 
 ant and distinctive as these influences are, I think there is much 
 less likelihood of those who have been subject to them placing 
 different interpretations upon them. 
 
 What is to be noted is the fact that a well-defined intellectual 
 atmosphere is not especially noticeable. I do not mean by this 
 that the different subjects are not taught in the best way, or that 
 those who are taught are not interested in intellectual things. 
 What I do mean is, that no department of learning has become 
 so prominent as to affect the whole of the university life with an 
 impulse toward study in that line. It may be that there is a 
 tendency in this direction; that the time will come when the 
 influence, say, of certain departments of science will dominate 
 and permeate our whole intellectual spirit. In view of the vast 
 development of science in recent years, and of the special circum- 
 stances that foster the study of it here, it would not be surprising 
 if such were the case; but, at present, I think it may safely 
 be said that this state of things has not yet come about. In 
 fact, it may be doubted whether the conditions here are such as 
 to produce a strong desire for the study of any subject whatever 
 for its own sake, considered apart from the vocation of the 
 student.
 
 II 
 
 It is not to be wondered at that this atmosphere of culture, 
 with its keen delight in all kinds of learning for its own sake, 
 should not here be yet highly developed. The interests of our 
 people are material, and, under such' conditions, it is not to be 
 expected that the tastes of young men and women will be revolu- 
 tionized by four years of college life. Moreover, the university 
 itself, unlike the older institutions with their centuries of devotion 
 to intellectual ideals, has behind it no traditions of culture except 
 such as have been formed in its own short life. At best, these 
 traditions are of slow growth, but I think that here they are 
 retarded by the stress that is placed on the practical side of 
 education. With so much emphasis placed on the relation ot 
 every subject of study to vocation, and so little on its value for 
 the mere happiness of the one who studies, it is not surprising 
 that the tendency towards the appreciation of things for them- 
 selves, which we call culture, should be somewhat late in making 
 itself strongly felt. 
 
 This narrowing of education, which we see here, for the purpose 
 of bringing it more directly to bear on the work of life has 
 important effects on the graduates of the university. For one 
 thing, which I think is to be deplored, the interests of a man 
 narrowly trained are bound to be circumscribed. He is con- 
 fined practically to what relates to his daily toil; in that part of 
 his life which remains over and above this, in which he gladly 
 turns to other things, he is deprived of resources that would add 
 immensely to his happiness. Then, too, there is likely to be a 
 certain provincialism in his way of thinking. This usually takes 
 the form of a disparagement of what he himself does not under- 
 stand. This inability to comprehend another point of view, and 
 to recognize the value of what is done in other lines of activity, 
 is one of the most disappointing results of our system of training. 
 Among our many compensations for these disadvantages, it is 
 worth while to note, first, the quality in the training here that 
 forbids the student to be satisfied with himself, and that urges him 
 on to still greater achievement in the preparation for his life- 
 work. If the statistics were compiled, it would probably be 
 found that no institution has a greater proportion of its alumn
 
 engajj;cil in graduate stiuly than our own. This is to say much 
 for the real inspiration in the work here. Moreover, what- 
 ever else may be said, our trainine;, with its special adaptation to 
 the individual, JK-ars directly on the problems of life. If it is not 
 in every case an adequate preparation for some useful calling, it 
 is such a foundation as no general course devised for purposes of 
 culture could give. Of this fact, the success that has already 
 been won in the world by Stanford's men and women is sufficient 
 witness. 
 
 Last, but not least, our university enriches the lives of her 
 alumni by giving them in herself a new object for their devotion 
 and their love. From the moment we leave these "stately, splen- 
 did, simple" walls of stone, she sits enthroned in our hearts. For 
 her honor we put forth our noblest efforts, and in her triumphs 
 we rejoice with exceeding gladness. Surely, it has fallen to the 
 lot of no other institution to have lavished upon it so much of 
 unselfish love. This love not only ennobles the lives of those 
 who feel it, but it also lays upon the university herself no light 
 burden of responsibility ; and yet we may be sure that, animated 
 by the spirit of our Founders, and directed by the genius of him 
 who both guides her and loves her, she will satisfy our aspira- 
 tions in the future as she has always done in the past. 
 
 JEFFERSON ELMORE.
 
 ONE THING >IORE. 
 
 The years that have gone by since the founding of our Alma 
 Mater are too few yet to bring back alumni old and wise, full of 
 years and knowledge, who will deliver addresses of instruction. 
 Rather must it be a group of old friends who have met to give 
 one another the experiences of the past year, both for entertain- 
 ment and benefit. What are some of the problems of life that 
 have come to us? What its duties? How has our university 
 training helped in their discharge? Any that may be mentioned 
 are old — as old as human learning; but to us they are new — as 
 new as the questions and perplexities of yesterday. 
 
 For example, last year we had ably discussed the adjustment 
 of the graduate to the old situations and institutions of the com- 
 munity. There is a conflict of soul in our effort to be sincere in 
 our new opinions, gathered here and there in the university, and 
 at the same time not commit the double fault of becoming simply 
 destructive critics, and hence ineffective members of society; for, 
 with a movement as with a man : the measure of its worth should 
 be in terms of its output, — its actual power to bring some worthy 
 thing to pass. As children first see the world in its phenomenal 
 aspect, and only by a larger and actual living discover the 
 deeper relations amongst all matter, so one of the results, 
 unfortunately, of having our eyes opened to the seeming, if not 
 actual, worthlessness of the hangings on and trappings of institu- 
 tions is, that we judge the whole by these, and fail to see beneath 
 the deep, unifying core that perpetuates life. In the older days 
 the astronomer settled all his questions by an appeal to Aristotle, 
 and the ecclesiast, all his world-problems by an appeal to the 
 Bible; so we are apt to think we have settled the value and reality 
 of current dogmas, isms, or creeds, by hitting them off with a 
 scientific phrase, or hanging them on some of the miscellaneous 
 hooks of terms or words; as, "that's philosophy;" "that's 
 determinism;" "that's a priori;"" "that's not evolution;" 
 "that's theory," or what not.
 
 14 
 
 With the university's opportunities in the way of life, there, 
 of course, must go those of death. The gradations toward either 
 are exceedingly easy. When one remembers how much our very 
 personality is a composite, as James says, of our bodies, our 
 clothes, our friends, and, in a more real way, of our emotions, 
 our opinions, and ideals, we shall see that the destruction of any 
 of these "me's" is not simply a loss of a few notions more or 
 less, but a direct change in the personality itself. Take a child 
 of the world, a cosmopolitan before it has come to its teens, who 
 has summered at various Newports, and wintered at various 
 Floridas, — a child without a country, without a religion, without 
 social orientation. What are his standards of judgment? What 
 his bases of comparison? What his feelings toward the matters of 
 personal significance? He has widely diffused knowledge, but 
 no systems of values. He has a large horizon of emotions, 
 opinions, ideals, met with in others; but he has no interpretative 
 experiences of his own. All lands are alike to him; no relations 
 to people or institutions are sacred, warm or potential. As a 
 youth, he has no inspiration; when a citizen, he will have no 
 force. As a critic, he has not had the deep, personal relations 
 to Hfe's factors to give him the insight of revelation. All this is 
 consequent, notice, upon an education freed from the influence 
 of any permanent state, family, or religious environment, not- 
 withstanding our inherited intellectual and emotional capacity. 
 
 To a certain degree, the university may produce the same 
 mental states in the adolescent as did the changing environment 
 in the child. Growth in plant-life into a desired shape and 
 stability is effected gradually, through no severe wrenching or 
 tearing asunder. The sudden breaking down of all the measur- 
 ing-rods of life is fatal, to my mind, from every point of view. 
 Instead of the gradual supplanting of the old by the new, the 
 evolving of the small truth into the larger, there is often the rude 
 breaking to pieces of the units of life by the unveiled reflections, 
 the gentle ridicule, the composed assertion, worthy of other 
 and past generations. And what has the student in compensa- 
 tion? He has new opinions, as square and hard and sharp as 
 the phenomenal world on which a new-born child looks. As
 
 15 
 
 from a mountain top he sees the peoples in their struggles, their 
 vices, their organizations; he explains their origin, traces their 
 growth, and gives opinions on their characters. But along with 
 these mental heights there may go, as with the much-traveled 
 youth, mental disintegration; he has great powers, but no direc- 
 tion in which to turn them. Speak of physical tragedy ! It is 
 simply commensurate with the heart-tragedy, which involves the 
 breaking up of the core of life, the nucleus of self, the death of 
 that fervent spirit that has warmed and unified all the units of 
 being. 
 
 To me, Le Bon, in his book. The Crowd, illustrates this mental 
 state. He has surveyed the whole area of society; it is made 
 up of factors drawn hither and thither by impulse, suggestion, the 
 strongest physical or psychical motive of the moment. As a 
 god he surveys, and says, " If they but knew! These ideals, 
 these visions, these religious aspirations, are nothing; yet they 
 are necessary to the ignorant people; they serve to elevate them. 
 Ignorance is not only bliss; it is salvation. As France is becom- 
 ing disillusioned through the spread of knowledge, she is degen- 
 erating." According to this view, universities are destructive 
 of the best interests of a government. Falsehoods, old women's 
 fancies, and mysticisms of hoary age are necessary to the happi- 
 ness and continuity of the state. Does truth degrade, and lies 
 elevate ? Such is the deduction. Better ten ignorant men with 
 the light of hope on their faces, the courage of conviction in 
 their souls, full of an integrating purpose, than a state full of 
 the other kind, whether university-trained or not. I am glad our 
 Alma Mater, as a whole, has a world-creed of her own, a faith 
 which is constructive, principles that are ideal, such as " The heart 
 of this old world is safe and sound; truth preserves, and false- 
 hood destroys." 
 
 But the understanding of these as simply new and more 
 general forms of old beliefs does not always come, either on account 
 of the student's inability or the professor's efforts to make the con- 
 trast strong, and the university alumnus may — alas, often does — 
 go out into the great active world with his ballast of family 
 faiths gone, and no others on board. The proof of this lies in
 
 1 6 
 
 what he does, or fails to do. No other earthly measure have we. 
 His intellect should help him conceive some desirable action; his 
 emotional nature, sensitive and warm, should im])el toward the 
 carrying it out. But how is it? 
 
 Miss Palmer's paper is encouraging, in that it shows that the 
 life of the university has made only a small decrease in the 
 activity of her children in work through the church. In other 
 words, those that were not active at their entrance, the four years 
 of higher life has not inspired, and has even reduced to inaction 
 part of those who were working through the virtually only effica- 
 cious avenue for the world's spiritual elevation. Has the univer- 
 sity fulfilled its obligations when it has bestowed the gifts of 
 knowledge? Our president has said its function is to reveal 
 power. Both notions are factors; but the knowledge must 
 become incarnate; the opinions must have the blood of life in them; 
 the purposes must be unified into an all-controlling conviction, — a 
 conviction — that's the word! — that there are great evils to be 
 eradicated, tyrannical wrongs to be righted, gross injustices to be 
 rectified, high ideals to be gained; that duty is the king of 
 motives. When? As soon as possible — now. By whom? 
 By me, by you. Convictions that will swing all the knowledge 
 these walls have given, all the powers these labor-\tories have 
 revealed, into some line for God and the right. Political, reli- 
 gious, ethical, social convictions, — not mere opinions — diction- 
 aries have these, encyclopaedias have these — but impelling forces 
 that will make for righteousness, leading us not only to think 
 about, but act for righteousness. With conviction, the univer- 
 sity man may become as Abraham of old, the friend of God, a 
 veritable Luther or Gladstone, looming up mountain-high among 
 his fellows; without it, he is the social remnant that simply e.xists, 
 because of non-interference. In society, our college brother, 
 with large historic perspective, sees how present social differences 
 arose by the strength or ingenuity of one class, the laziness or 
 artlessness of an other; and with composure says, "These condi- 
 tions are unpleasant, but they are as natural sequences as a 
 valley or ocean current. Whatever is, is right ; at least, it 
 can't be changed until the next step in evolution arrives."
 
 17 
 
 Meanwhile he rests and reads more about the conditions, while 
 the man of smallef vision, but one whose head has not been cooled 
 by any philosophy that permits ease while evil reigns, or his brother 
 suffers, runs up his banner "Excelsior," and when he falls, not 
 from rust, but wear, his face is toward the goal. As a John 
 Brown or a Garrison, he forces down and aside the bars and 
 doors that have closed opportunity. They did not wait the next 
 step in evolution; they made it. What they did, not simply 
 considered and rationalized about, might have been accomplished 
 by the less wasteful methods of evolution. But who shall say 
 how long the inertness and slavish spirit of the blacks, the caste- 
 feelings, the pecuniary considerations, and many other factors, 
 would have perpetuated this slave institution ? Often, instead of 
 time solving such problems, passing years introduce new ele- 
 ments, increase the complexity of the situation, draw closer the 
 already existing bonds, so that the only remedial agent possible 
 is some bold Alexandrian stroke, that severs the knots of injus- 
 tice, of convention, of edict. 
 
 What was true in '60 is true in other forms to-day. While 
 many a citizen of large knowledge of the origin and value of 
 vice is saying, ' ' Let them alone, these sinful people, these 
 vicious ones, these drunken and depraved; the laws of nature, 
 the strife of circumstances, their inherited qualities, their innate 
 weaknesses, will settle their questions, their fate," some eloquent 
 Gough with a message on his lips, or consecrated Mrs. Booth, 
 whose heart is the altar of God, says, "iHold, our brother sinks! 
 Run out the life-line!" and in they wade, and do what they can. 
 And while we knowing ones have been theorizing about the prin- 
 ciples and methods and necessity of these fanatical sacrifices, the 
 literal thousands, now clothed and in their right minds, strength- 
 ened and saved, rise up to call such fanatics blessed! To my 
 mind, there is no question that men of small mental furnishing, 
 but with that little unified, integrated, and fired with a deep, pro- 
 pelling purpose, are bringing much more of permanent value 
 to pass than many — too many — of large university training. 
 Their heat, though small, will cook something for the famishing 
 spirits of men, while the others' larger heat, scattered and diffused
 
 through a hogshead, is neither hot enough to prepare food nor 
 cold enough to preserve it; — such men are too learned to 
 strengthen the conventions of society through imitation, and 
 too forceless to inaugurate new ones. 
 
 Should this be so ? And does it all mean that our sojourn 
 here on the quadrangle is enervating, and not to be desired ? 
 Certainly, I think not. And I reflect no more on the modern 
 institutions when I mention these types, several of whom have 
 come within my short experience, than you on the large value of 
 the small college when you say its laboratories are limited, or on the 
 universities of the Middle Ages when you say they were too 
 scholastic or too ecclesiastic. The largeness of the lights, the 
 varied and developing perspective obtained through historic and 
 scientific study, instead of dazing and enervating, should stimu- 
 late to movement, more powerful and more effective, as there 
 are larger means of judging effects from causes. It is small 
 consolation that the four years of preparation here has ser\'ed to 
 diminish efficiency in a great representative institution; or in 
 other words, that the minority should say, We have remained 
 active, notwithstanding our teachings at Stanford. The deeper 
 ingoing into the accessories and adventitous belongings of 
 organizations and conventions have, on the one hand, shown the 
 worthlessness of some, but, on the other hand, the great value of 
 most of them. Is it the spirit of a paralyzing rationalism which 
 is peculiar to the age, and which would work, despite the univer- 
 sity ? No. The echo of the vast Christian Endeavor Society 
 which gathered on our Coast has hardly quieted; and at the 
 same time the piling thousands of the Epworth League were 
 carrying Toronto by storm. Who were they ? The flower of 
 this country; young people of colleges and universities, lawyers, 
 preachers, business men. What did they do ? Why, after a 
 a year in food-giving, coal-giving, time-giving, heart-giving, 
 self-giving, they come together to plan and rejoice. What do 
 they say are the springs of their actions ? Faith, prayer, the 
 presence and power of God in the human heart, — some of the 
 very things that are thought to be so out of date, so tainted with 
 mediaevalism. Are these people ignorant of the science, of the
 
 19 
 
 history, of the sociology, which are taught here ? Not at all. 
 They have this, and more : spirit, conviction, and ordering faith. 
 Berkeley has men heavy and skillful in football, but weight and 
 skill are only two factors ; so we have our yell, our rooters, 
 our student-body meetings, where enthusiasm is stirred, faith is 
 kindled, and purpose for victory is enlarged. Then what? 
 The world knows the rest. Notice: this resolving of all else into 
 one deep purpose was a part of the preparation. The ball-field 
 is life. 
 
 Is it better in poHtics than in the church? See how university 
 people withdraw from party activities. By so doing they effect 
 nothing good or evil. Dr. Ross says: "As long as participation 
 in politics is considered a disagreeable duty, by people who are 
 capable of dispassionate judgment, the class that considers it a 
 business, a pleasure, and therefore a duty, will control the funda- 
 mental factors in American politics. This country is more apt to 
 suffer from the apathy and lack of energy on the part of the 
 educated and better classes, than through the ignorance and 
 carelessness of the humble grades of society." Many men of 
 great zeal, following the usual methods of political action, are 
 staying the powers of evil to some degree, and are really the salt 
 of the political earth; while the scholar, too considerate, too slow 
 to act, too fearful of sullying his hands — not his heart — in 
 indiscriminate warfare, lets the saloon, the self-seekers, win the 
 day. 
 
 This does not imply argument with conscience, concession to 
 evil, or deviation from a person's best moral standard, but a 
 using of channels of power for good rather than evil ends. We 
 have to work with the world as it now is; ideal methods would 
 be applicable to ideal society. Universal education has not freed 
 communities from the power of leaders ; indeed, the boss 
 seems to have grown as have the public schools. The most 
 effectively dominated city I know has a well- equipped kinder- 
 garten in every ward, superior, intermediate, and high schools, a 
 large normal, and two universities within her county. Illiteracy 
 is virtually unknown, yet the power of the boss waxes year 
 by year. What opportunities for the utilization of the expe-
 
 20 
 
 rience of history, of psychology, of sociology, of economics, by 
 the host of university citizens who live within her borders ! But 
 do they so utilize them ? The rather are they the smallest force 
 in the whole matter, — smallest in proportion to their number, and 
 much more so in proportion to their powers and possibilities. 
 We need conviction that will forget the smaller self, stop quib- 
 bling over minor means, and follow the lord of duty. Especially 
 should representatives of this institution become not only sources 
 of light, but bearers of light — where emphasis is placed on living 
 up to the truth that now is, using the means that lie about us, — no 
 dreamers or hermits, but workers under the heat and light of 
 to-day's sun. 
 
 Over and over again in these halls, we have been impressed 
 with a knowledge of God's laws, his prizes, his penalties, his 
 rewards for action, his punishment of lethargy, deduced from 
 the great volumes of nature and the clear voice of experience, 
 deeply implanted on the consciences of the human world. But 
 just as truly does the history of mankind show that God has 
 brought truth to life, and life to his people, through men of 
 conviction, showing faith and unified life. Without these, 
 knowledge is as foreign substance in the body; with them, it is 
 power, — the power of God unto righteousness. 
 
 CHAS. J. C. BENNETT.
 
 ALUMNI DAY, 
 
 May 24, 1898. 
 
 BUSINESS MEETING. 
 
 The annual business meeting of the Alumni Association was 
 called to order by President Field in room 21, Quadrangle 
 Tuesday, May 24th. 
 
 The minutes of the previous meeting were read and approved. 
 The provisional report of the Treasurer was also read and accepted. 
 Mr. Whittier, Chairman of the Executive Committee, reported 
 that the returns for the proposed Directory of Alumni were slow 
 in coming in, but that he hoped to issue it before the next annual 
 meeting. 
 
 In accordance with a resolution adopted at a previous meet- 
 ing (February 22, 1898), a number of Auxiliary Alumni Asso- 
 ciations were established, and interesting reports from those in 
 New York, Portland, Los Angeles, and San Francisco were read 
 by the Secretary. The report from the Association in New York 
 City is as follows: — 
 
 " The Stanford Club in New York City held its first reunion 
 on Thanksgiving evening, 1897. A theater party, followed by a 
 supper, afforded us a very pleasant evening. When the telegram 
 announcing the football victory was read at the supper, there 
 were twenty-two loyal sons of Stanford to join in the yell which 
 followed. Mr. J. M. Wight, President of the Club, acted as 
 toast-master, and called for the following toasts: The Founders, 
 L. N. Chase, ex-'95; Athletics, J. P. Bernhard, '96; Our Presi- 
 dent, Harry Hazzard, '97; The Alumni, George F. Vanderven, 
 '96; The Future of the University, J. E. Reynolds, '96. 
 The speeches were of such a high order that one could 
 almost imagine himself listening to a Berkeley debater. The
 
 evening was a success, and an annual reunion is an assured fact 
 for the future. 
 
 "Stanford University is well represented in^New York City, as 
 will be seen from the following list: J. M. Wight, '93, is at 
 present practicing law; T. R. Warren, '94, was graduated last 
 year from the Union Theological Seminary, and is now assisting 
 Dr. Newton; A. W. Cuddeback, '94, is an engineer with the 
 Broadway Cable Company; F. E. Kessinger, '95, is a lawyer, 
 having graduated with honor from the New York Law School 
 with the Class of '97; F. J. Batchelder, ex-' 94, is with the 
 Electrical World; L. N. Chase, ex-' 95, is a candidate for the 
 degree of Ph. D. in Columbia College. 
 
 " Stanford may well be proud of the record her men are making 
 in the College of Physicians and Surgeons. Harry Reynolds, 
 '96; Guy Cochran, '96; T. G. Russell, '95; Horace Campbell, 
 ex-' 96; Al Spalding, '96; T. M. Williams, '97; Gibbs and 
 Yocum, ex-' 99, are all doing fine work. Reynolds, Cochran, and 
 Williams are prosectors. C. B. Pinkham, '96, is studying 
 medicine at the Homoeopathic College, while L. S. Mace, '96, is 
 at Bellevue Medical College. The following men are at the 
 Columbia Law School: J. E. Reynolds, '96; G. F. Vanderven, 
 '96; C. W. Miller, '96; J. E. Lawsh6, '96; K. Mackintosh, '95 ; 
 Harry Hazzard, '97; and John Gait, ex-'98. J. P. Bernhard, '96, 
 and C. H. Labb4, '96, finish this year at the New York Law 
 School. Rambo, ex' -98, is in the Columbia School of Mines. 
 Thomas Whiffen, ex-' 97, is with the Lyceum Stock Company. 
 George Robinson is preparing for the stage. The address of 
 any of these men may be found by addressing J. M. Wight, 58 
 William Street, New York City. 
 
 "(Signed) C. H. LABBE, 
 
 " Secretary Stanford Club. 
 
 "325 W. Fifty-eighth Street, New York City." 
 
 An interesting report was also received from the Portland 
 Club:- 
 
 ' ' Strictly speaking, our organization is not a branch of the 
 Alumni Association, — graduates, undergraduates, and former
 
 23 
 
 students not being distinguished. According to the constitution 
 adopted in June, 1896, the date] of its conception, ' all persons 
 who have matriculated and spent a year as students at the Leland 
 Stanford Junior University, and are residents of Portland or vicin- 
 ity, may become members of this club by signing the constitution, 
 and being elected by a majority vote of the members present at 
 any regular meeting.' Practically, however, all the Stanford peo- 
 ple we can gather together^ herej have so far been considered 
 members. I inclose a list of those who appear upon the roll of 
 members, together with a list^of officers, past and present. Dave 
 Brown and John Brunton were elected honorary members upon 
 the occasion of the Multnomah-Olympic field-day in this city, 
 on which we turned out in a^ body for the first time, and from a 
 cardinal-decorated section of the grand stand rooted for the 
 Stanford men who took part, but, unfortunately, there was a good- 
 sized hoodoo present, who came early to avoid the rush, and he 
 proved too much for us. 
 
 "We have given two very successful banquets, at which ap- 
 propriate toasts were responded to, the old songs sung over again, 
 and the yell given with the'^vim which can come only from a 
 Stanford crowd. Unofiicially, we look after prospective students, 
 and, as Carolus Ager would say, ' give them pointers on the 
 university.' In the same way,5,we do our best to entertain Stan- 
 ford people who come this way'during the summer months, but 
 in this respect I am afraid we'^ have not always succeeded very 
 well. Portland, during that"period of the year, is dull. Every- 
 body who possibly can rushes off to the coast or mountains to 
 avoid the oppressive heat and smoke of the city. This is a fact, 
 despite the popular impression that it always rains in Oregon. 
 Some day, however, we expect to have a handsome clubhouse 
 to receive our friends, but this may be only one of the many 
 castles we are building in the air. 
 
 "The annual banquet, which is given generally upon the 
 return of the students from the university at the close of the 
 year, is always looked forward to, but just what the plans are 
 for this year I cannot say, as five or six of our number, in- 
 cluding the president and secretary, expect to be called to the
 
 24 
 
 front at any time now, as we are members of the National Guard, 
 and have volunteered to line up against the Spaniards. 
 
 " (Signed) ROBERT J. ONEIL, Secretary." 
 
 From San Francisco came the following report: — 
 
 "The Stanford Alumni Club of San Francisco, consisting of 
 the alumni of the university and associate members, was 
 organized in December, 1896. The present membership is about 
 one hundred. We have had several banquets and meetings, and 
 have endeavored, with good success, to keep up the fellowship 
 of Stanford associations and the boon comrade spirit of the days 
 of Auld Lang Syne. For the year 1896-97 we elected the fol- 
 lowing officers: G. E. Crothers, '95, President; C. K. Field, '95, 
 Vice-President; W. E. Stuart, '95, Secretary; L. J. Hinsdill, '95, 
 Treasurer. At our last reunion in February of this year w^e held 
 our annual banquet and business meeting, and elected H. H. 
 Brown, '96, President; Scott Calhoun, '95, Vice-President; W. 
 E. Stuart, '95, Secretary; and J. M. Ross, '96, Treasurer, — all for 
 the year 1898. 
 
 " I inclose you the first register of our club. We have been 
 under great difficulty in preparing it, and if we have not come 
 up to expectations, our first efforts may be excused. 
 
 " Our club fosters the spirit of love for our Alma Mater, and 
 keeps a watchful eye for the university's interests. 
 
 "(Signed) W. E. STUART, Secretary." 
 
 An account of the organization of the Los Angeles association 
 
 was published in the Sequoia, April 22, 1898, and is reprinted 
 
 here: — 
 
 " Los Angeles, April 2. 
 
 ' ' The conservative elevator-boy who pumps the conservative 
 
 elevator at the Nadeau Hotel blinked in wonder yesterday. His 
 
 bell was rung and rung again by unknown people wearing red 
 
 roses, carnations, pins, neckties, anything and everything that 
 
 might be known as cardinal. And by and by it dawned upon his 
 
 consciousness, in the course of sundry questions and overheard
 
 2"; 
 
 gossipings, that these people all had something to do with some 
 place called Stanford, which seemed to be the only thing they 
 had ever heard or cared to hear about. 
 
 " As a matter of fact, Southern California thought she might 
 as well have an organization rendering loyalty to the cardinal as 
 Northern California, and with this in view, all "alumni, students 
 and ex-students" in this part of the state assembled to discuss 
 the matter, the discussion being supported by the best lunch 
 the Nadeau knows how to set forth. 
 
 ' ' The day was well chosen, being in the week of Teachers' 
 Convention, and many were the pedagogues dwelling in southern 
 counties who helped to swell the number. (If all Stanford alumni 
 who have become pedagogues could take hold of hands and 
 
 form a circle, they would reach as far as the result is left to 
 
 modern journalism.) The best part of the feast was the presence 
 of a number of well-known professors. Dr. Jordan, with Mrs. 
 Jordan and their son, were seen at the head of the table, and 
 Professors Duniway, Goebel, Starbuck, Sanford, and Cubberley 
 were present. Mr. Zion came late, and hung his hat on the 
 chandelier, and made lots of amendments to the constitution. Mr. 
 De Los Magee acted as chairman, and was afterwards chosen 
 president of the association, Mr. Mills being secretary, and Miss 
 Kate Nash treasurer, in case there should be anything to treasure. 
 Mr. Mills read the constitution while other people ate ice-cream. 
 Differences of opinion were smoothed out, and the affair ended 
 with the biggest Stanford yell that the old Nadeau ever heard — 
 such a yell that a crisp little brunette waitress spilled bouillon down 
 a Roman-striped breadth, and the Chinaman scalded his fingers 
 in the kitchen below. 
 
 "Among those present were: Dr. and Mrs. Jordan; Professors 
 Goebel, Sanford, Cubberley, Duniway, Starbuck, and Dickinson; 
 Misses Nash, Jessie Wood, Rose Smith, Josephine Beady, Grace 
 Morgan, Mary Polk, Sarah Comstock, Agnes Bowman, Dora 
 Moody; Messrs. De Los Magee, Mills, Harry Turner, Workman, 
 Holmes, Oliver Morton, Burt Kinney, C. P. Hodgson, M. . 
 Tucker, Roy Ely, E. R. Zion, and Colgrove. Angelina. 
 
 " P. S. — They let Mr. Mills finish his ice-cream afterwards."
 
 26 
 
 The following business was then transacted: A suggestion 
 made by Mr. Whittier that, as the promenade concert is intended 
 eventually to become an alumni institution, the Association assist the 
 Class of '98 in bearing the expense, resulted in a motion made and 
 carried that the Secretary be authorized to draw on the Treasurer 
 for any sum the Senior Class might need to assist in paying for a 
 suitable promenade concert, the amount not to exceed $50. 
 
 Mr. Bledsoe moved to refer the matter of an alumni weekly, 
 giving a resum^ of alumni news and other university matters of 
 interest, to the Executive Committee with full power to act. 
 Carried. 
 
 It was suggested that the printed reports of the proceedings 
 be of uniform size. 
 
 The meeting then proceeded to the election of officers with 
 the following result: President, C. B. Whittier, '93; Vice-Presi- 
 dent, B. F. Bledsoe, '95; Secretary, Miss H. L. StadtmuUer, '95; 
 Treasurer, C. E. Cox, '93; Executive Committee, J. Elmore, '95, 
 A. Lewns, '95, Miss H. Cory, '95, 
 
 The meeting then adjourned to the chapel, where addresses 
 were made by J. Elmore, '95, C, J. C. Bennett, '96. and President 
 Jordan. At the conclusion of Dr. Jordan's remarks, which dealt 
 with the taxation of the university, the following resolutions, 
 introduced by Mr. Whittier, were unanimously adopted: — 
 
 "Whereas, By the provisions of our State Constitution our 
 university is paying and is compelled to pay taxes on all of its 
 property, and accordingly its resources and usefulness are just so 
 far lessened, while in other states liberal exemptions of the prop- 
 erty of like institutions that is used for educational purposes are 
 made, and thus such institutions are encouraged and aided rather 
 than crippled; and 
 
 " Whereas, There seems to be no reason injustice or sound 
 policy why our state should not follow the example of other 
 states, and help rather than hinder the institutions of learning 
 within its borders; therefore, be it 
 
 ' ' Resolved, By the Alumni Association of Leland Stanford 
 Junior University, that all the alumni, ex-students, and friends of 
 the University are hereby urged to use all proper means to
 
 27 
 
 remedy this unfortunate condition of our state law; and to tiiat 
 end this Association suggests and recommends the following 
 action on their part as best adapted to accomplish the desired 
 result: — 
 
 " First. That all vote and lead others to vote in favor of hold- 
 ing a constitutional convention when the question of holding such 
 a convention is presented to the people for decision at the next 
 election. In a constitutional convention, when other alterations 
 are being made, the changes which we desire can be more easily 
 obtained. 
 
 ' ' Seco7id. That everything possible and proper be done to 
 have nominated and elected to our next Legislature men who, 
 in case the constitutional convention should not be ordered by 
 the people, will vote to refer to the people of the state an 
 amendment to our Constitution, exempting such property used 
 for educational purposes as is usually exempt in other states. 
 
 " Whereas, By the provisions of section 1313 of the Civil 
 Code of our state, persons who desire to leave their property to the 
 university, and who, for any reason, cannot transfer it to the uni- 
 versity before their death, are prevented from willing to the 
 university more than one-third of their estate, and thus gifts to 
 the university are seriously curtailed; and 
 
 "Whereas, There seems to be no sound reason for such 
 restrictions on bequests or demises to institutions of learning; 
 therefore, be it 
 
 ^'Resolved, By the Alumni Association of Leland Stanford 
 Junior University, that all the alumni, ex-students, and friends o^ 
 the University be, and they are hereby, urged to use all proper 
 means to have nominated and elected to our next legislature men 
 who will vote for such amendment of the above-mentioned section 
 of our Civil Code as will avoid the restrictions which it puts on 
 persons wishing to will property to the university." 
 
 The meeting then adjourned. 
 
 H. L. STADTMULLER, Secretary.
 
 28 
 
 THE ALUMNI LUNCHEON. 
 
 One of the jtleasant features of Alumni Day was the annual 
 luncheon served at two o'clock in the dining-room of Roble Hall. 
 There was a large attendance of alumni from all parts of the 
 state, who, after enjoying the good things to eat, listened with 
 deep interest to the responses to the different toasts. Charles K. 
 Field, '95, acted as toast-master. After expressing to the 
 graduating class his regret, as one of the Class of '95, that the 
 last of those who were in college with the pioneers were now 
 leaving, taking with them the last undergraduate link between 
 '95 and the university, he said: — 
 
 " This is a time of good-bys; we, too, say farewell to you as 
 part of the student-body we have loved to revisit, and yet we can 
 sound the note of welcome also, for you join us in this associa- 
 tion, and with us are bound by it to the university. Some of us 
 have recently said good-by to men of '98 in a far different way 
 from the manner of this afternoon. Yesterday morning I 
 marched over the cobblestones of San Francisco by the side of a 
 '98 man, my dearest friend in the university, and said good-by 
 to him at the Mail Dock where lay the Peking waiting for the 
 troops. Will you pardon me if I lapse into an old habit toward 
 which you have all been indulgent in the past ? Whenever I felt 
 things strongly here in my student-life, I sank into verse. The 
 temptation now is irresistible. 
 
 "TO '98. 
 
 " ' To '98 ' my subject is, 
 
 A theme of greeting, purely. 
 To give }'Ou welcome to our ranks, — 
 
 A pleasant duty, surely; 
 Yet, while I speak to you, and see 
 
 Your well-known college faces. 
 My heart is with those Ninety-eights 
 
 Who stand in other places.
 
 29 
 
 ' ' Above their white Presidio tents, 
 
 Through all that stormy weather, 
 They flung the gleaming Stars and Stripes 
 
 And Cardinal together. 
 And clear above the growing din 
 
 And stir of camp commotion 
 They sent the sound of our old yell 
 
 Out-ringing to the ocean. 
 
 ' ' Within the bright Quad yesterday, 
 
 You stood, your friends around you, 
 And pledged alumnial fealty to 
 
 The common tie that bound you; 
 They tramped it to the waiting ships 
 
 To face what lay before them. 
 The Stanford yell was on their lips. 
 
 The Stanford colors o'er them ! 
 
 ' ' Encina gleamed with lights and flowers 
 
 And happy music thrilled you, 
 Commencement flattery made sweet 
 
 The parting grief that filled you; 
 They crowded down between the decks 
 
 Of that cramped first flotilla, 
 Behind them home and love, ahead 
 
 The menace of Manila. 
 
 "They went before Commencement Week 
 
 To drudgery unceasing. 
 To dangers of disease and war, 
 
 With every day increasing. 
 And some shall walk these well-loved ways. 
 
 Alumni heroes, later. 
 And some shall never know again 
 
 The smile of Alma Mater.
 
 30 
 
 ' ' You stand as ready for the call, 
 
 If so be more are needed, 
 And if our country speaks, her voice 
 
 Will not be raised unheeded. 
 Hail and Godspeed to Ninety-eight! 
 
 You know, who hear me speaking, 
 Our hearts to-day are with our boys 
 
 On board the transport Peking." 
 
 The response on behalf of '98 was made in a happy manner 
 by S. W. Charles, president of the class. He returned hearty 
 thanks for the kind words spoken by President Field, and then 
 referred to the sacrifices that had been made by the class of '98 
 for the sake of leaving behind them an unspotted record. 
 
 John F. Sheehan, Jr., '95, was then called upon to respond 
 to "The Alumni and Athletics." In doing so Mr. Sheehan 
 spoke as follows : — 
 
 " In looking over this group of faces, it is difficult for me to 
 realize that three years have gone since we of '95 were in the 
 final week of our college days, as you of '98 are to-day; and 
 still more difficult is it to realize, as you of '98 will have it come 
 to you, perhaps with a feeling of sadness, that, come back to 
 college as we may, — engage again, perhaps, lor a brief period 
 in Stanford's active life, — that, after all, we are only the alumni. 
 
 " And what does it mean to be an alumnus? I don't believe 
 many of us have yet solved the problem, for our youth is still 
 upon us; and the graduate of Stanford, unlike the graduate of 
 Yale, or Harvard, or Princeton, steps from the college threshold, 
 not into an association strengthened by tradition, with a system 
 of action crystallized by years of life, but rather into an organiza- 
 tion yet in its embryo, but in which I know there slumbers the 
 fire of Stanford's pioneer spirit, which, as each one of us gives to 
 it his mite, will broaden, perhaps before we are aware of it, into an 
 organization of maturity and of strength. 
 
 ' ' There are many ways in which each one of us may drop his 
 mite into the box for Stanford's success. To specify would
 
 31 
 
 be impossible ; to generalize is possible. Perhaps our most 
 active interest, at least in the youth of our alumni existence, 
 turns toward the success of the athletics of our Alma Mater. 
 There is no denying that athletics is perhaps the strongest link 
 which binds the alumni and undergraduate life together. It is 
 so in all universities the nation over, — a potent element which 
 serves to make the Uttle college world what it is, — after all, only 
 a wheel within the wheel of the bigger, sterner world. Athletics 
 has done much for Stanford. It has done much for the men who 
 were the athletes. Whatever his occupation, a man's college 
 athletic training will, sooner or later, display itself as an active 
 force in his career of life; and young though Stanford is, within 
 a very few years her athletes will represent their Alma Mater in 
 nearly every sphere of life. Why, it was only yesterday morning 
 that a crowd of us old Stanford fellows cheered the Stars and 
 Stripes, and then our gallant boys in Company H of the First 
 Regiment, as they marched down Market Street to embark for 
 Manila. And some of them were Stanford athletes, who only 
 last Thanksgiving Day were boys in red, batding a college 
 enemy, but now, only a few months later, they are boys in blue, 
 ready to battle a sterner foe. 
 
 "Upon us of the young alumni, upon you of '98 as well, 
 devolves the duty to aid old Stanford in upholding her prestige 
 of the past, — if possible, to make it stronger; and the method 
 to pursue, and the maxim that must govern it, is always to work 
 to keep in brightest flame the Stanford spirit. 
 
 " It is difficult to define just what our spirit is. We all feel it 
 within us, and, as^has been said, we know that it was not born to 
 die. And we do know that by spirit — Stanford spirit — we mean 
 the direction of energy in all manner of ways that are legitimate 
 and right to aid^in Stanford success. 
 
 "I have "two jexamples in mind, which to me have always 
 demonstrated, at least in some measure, what Stanford spirit, 
 in both its individual and collective sense, consists of 
 
 "I well remember one autumn afternoon, when the football 
 season was'^at its height, with Walter Camp, whom all of us will 
 always revere, "as coach. I had blown a referee's whistle for the
 
 32 
 
 five-minute rest during practice, and was standing- by Mr. Camp. 
 Remarking to him that a certain player had ' ripped things up ' 
 in great style in the practice, he turned and said to me, in his 
 quiet but forcible manner, ' Yes; there is an example of what 
 spirit will do. That man lacks something in weight for his posi- 
 tion, one would think, but he more than makes up for it in 
 spirit. After all,' he continued, 'it's spirit that counts most; 
 it's spirit alone which causes a man to display a degree of 
 superiority over his fellows and become a star.' And to me his 
 words went home deeply; and as for the player we spoke of, his 
 name has come down to us in our football annals as one of the 
 best. 
 
 "Collectively, no better instance of what Stanford spirit can 
 accomplish was ever displayed than in the early spring of '96, that 
 memorable spring when the law gave to Stanford her due. The 
 suit had been decided in our favor, and in some magic manner 
 there gathered on the campus, the very evening of the decision, a 
 great number of the representative alumni. In an instant the 
 university emerged from its gloom. There was co-operation of 
 faculty and student from within, with the alumni from without. 
 It was in the air that things would change; that now Berkeley 
 would fall before us; and that the hateful tie of the previous 
 Thanksgiving Day would bother us no longer. And the 
 prophecy came true; for the impetus given by the engendered 
 spirit of that evening carried us the next month to a great base- 
 ball victory, and what was virtually a victory on the track and 
 field. To uphold that spirit, I say again, is our duty. Let us 
 systematize our plan of action as readily as is possible. Let us try 
 to have it so that every branch of sport each year may have two 
 or three, or perhaps more, of the Stanford alumni supervising 
 its development. It will certainly come to be, and that, too, in 
 the near future, that our men will be as competent as outsiders; 
 and when they have gained equal competency, they will be far 
 more desirable than our Eastern brethren, for they will have 
 added to their ability to direct the Stanford spirit. Dr. Angell 
 has long cherished this idea, and is gradually observing its devel- 
 opment and enforcement. To him we owe a debt of gratitude
 
 for his active, healthy, broad-minded policy in the direction of 
 our college sports. There have been very few, if any, instances 
 in the past where our athletics have suffered by misdirection on 
 the part of coaches; and Dr. Angell's sentiment in this regard of 
 what should always be is best expressed in the words of Walter 
 Camp, spoken in the chapel in the autumn of '92: 'Whatever 
 be your game, pray God be a gentleman.' 
 
 " And so, members of the Alumni, to foster this spirit, let him 
 who can come back to the campus of his Alma Mater as often as 
 he can. Let every one, whatever his sphere of life may be, 
 extend his hand for Stanford's sake, and fan the flame of her 
 undying spirit. In most instances the good you will do will be 
 general in its nature; the details we must leave to the under- 
 graduates. But whether it come from near or far, — perhaps only 
 a word spoken here or a word spoken there, — as certain as the 
 deed is done will its effect, early or late, find its way back to the 
 halls of your college days. And though it is difficult to realize, 
 yet, little by little, as the years slip away, so must one active 
 spirit slip away to give place to the newer, fresher life. And 
 when, away in the dim and uncertain future, we have passed to 
 the stage of — let us hope — interested but necessarily inactive 
 regard for the success of the good old cardinal upon the field of 
 athletics, when we are the old alumni, all revered pioneers, 
 when Field is our venerable poet-laureate, and Crothers a chief 
 justice in his gown and wig, and Rice the head of some mighty 
 journal, and all of us, pray God, have at least climbed to that 
 rung of the ladder of life which is designated ' respectability,' 
 let us hope, I say, that, leaning back in our easy-chairs, in what- 
 ever cHme of this broad, old world fate may have led us, there 
 may come at times a happy reverie of days gone by, and stand- 
 ing out as a clear mental picture of our college days, the 
 athletic conquests of dear old Stanford."
 
 34 
 
 Prof. W. W. Thoburn delighted the company with a response 
 entitled "Rhyming Prose," which he has named more speci- 
 fically — 
 
 THE ALUMNUS. 
 [To the Class of '98.] 
 
 An upper room, a silent hall, 
 
 A candle's feeble light; 
 Black, palsied shadows on the wall; 
 
 Without, a half-spent night. 
 
 Thus in a tilted chair he sat, 
 
 Commencement Day was o'er, 
 His baccalaureate robes half-packed, 
 
 Or strewn upon the floor. 
 
 His feet his table's top adorned, 
 
 With bills and billets-doux; 
 He tried to think what people meant, 
 
 Who told him he was through. 
 
 Through with the men he knew so well. 
 
 Through with the girls he knew; 
 Through with a life whose paths were tried, 
 
 Facing a life so new. 
 
 It hurts to be made alumnus. 
 
 And here was one new-born; 
 With the promised life before him, 
 
 He seemed of all life shorn. 
 
 In class array he had that day 
 
 Upon the platform stood, 
 Where fivescore boys with threescore girls 
 
 Had shared their bachelorhood.
 
 35 
 
 He smiled at congratulations, 
 Thanked all who wished him fame, 
 
 Pretending joy he did not feel, — 
 His class had done the same, — 
 
 But his heart was cold and lonely; 
 
 He 'd trade his new sheepskin 
 For any envious freshman's shoes 
 
 Who wished to trade with him. 
 
 That night he stood on Roble steps, 
 
 The lights had dipped and died; 
 The girl who helped him say good-by 
 
 Had fled upstairs and cried. 
 
 And now with crowding memories 
 
 He lonely vigil kept; 
 Because he 'd been a week awake, 
 
 Our new alumnus slept. 
 
 And sleeping dreamed, and dreaming saw 
 
 A world before him spread. 
 Its anxious throngs on many paths. 
 
 By many wishes led. 
 
 Some sought for ease, and some sought power; 
 
 For wisdom's secrets some; 
 Some aimless strove, or sought for gifts 
 
 That ne'er to seekers come. 
 
 Here, where the crowd was thick, he thought 
 
 He heard the college yell; 
 Here anxious brows or straining eyes 
 
 Unfinished tasks foretell.
 
 36 
 
 Here was a man conditioned, 
 
 And here an incomplete; 
 A seedy, flunked-out, doubtful case 
 
 Sat on a loafer's seat. 
 
 The same old crowd in social life, 
 Or work, or play, were powers. 
 
 The world, it seemed, at college was, 
 And measured time by hours. 
 
 By major subjects men were grouped, — 
 
 Science, and art, and law; 
 He saw how civil engineers 
 
 Were made from freshmen raw. 
 
 Circles, and frats, and rings, and barbs, 
 And sets, and clubs, and freaks, 
 
 Divided stupid men from wise. 
 Men who were fair from sneaks. 
 
 Sturdy, broad-shouldered rushers, 
 
 Who unearned credits beg. 
 And fellows who chose snap-courses. 
 
 And pulled the doctor's leg. 
 
 The good, the bad, the strong, the weak 
 
 Of other days were there; 
 But set in larger molds were these. 
 
 By transformation rare. 
 
 In undergraduate hours he dreamed 
 Of what seemed life's ideal; *■ 
 
 By curious freak of somnolence. 
 His ideals now were real. 
 
 The helping hands were multiplied; 
 
 To more abundant life 
 Men led their fellows, and fewer men 
 
 Were wasted in the strife.
 
 n 
 
 Beneath the superficial froth 
 Of factious waves, there ran 
 
 The quiet strength of those who made 
 Their major subject man. 
 
 Wide as the fields her children tread, 
 The Quad's brown walls expand; 
 
 A mystic influence on their lives. 
 Her red-tiled towers stand. 
 
 Mother of hopes, parent of dreams. 
 
 Thy children sing to thee ! 
 They ne'er surpass thy rich ideals, 
 
 Nor solve thy mystery. 
 
 What though these midnight fancies fade 
 
 Before the light of day; 
 One cannot dream such noble dreams 
 
 And throw his life away. 
 
 The beast dreams not of angels fair; 
 
 To slaves, the freeman's lot 
 Is slavish ease, with chains and lash 
 
 And all that hurts forgot. 
 
 But men who grow where free winds blow, 
 Dream as they 've lived and done, 
 
 For the dreamer and his dream-stuff 
 Are in their essence one. 
 
 Benj, F. Bledsoe, '96, spoke of " Stanford in the South " in 
 a very entertaining way, dwelling especially on the energy of 
 Stanford men in that section, and their habit of turning up in 
 unexpected places. A full report of Mr. Bledsoe's remarks was 
 expected, but has not been obtained. 
 
 .'370(>2.'5
 
 38 
 
 I. E. Outcalt, '96, one of the best known writers of verse among 
 the alumni, was called on and responded with the following 
 poem : 
 
 ALUMNI DAY, 1 898. 
 
 To-day the underclassman's words, 
 
 His modulations cheerful, 
 Make known his blithe assurances. 
 
 Half-satisfied, half-tearful, 
 The senior's well-turned rhetoric. 
 
 From hope's bright center starting. 
 Gains deeper tones when veiled regret 
 
 Points to the final parting. 
 From all the mingled grave and gay, 
 What theme is ours Alumni Day? 
 
 From no dim, ivied past we draw 
 
 A charm to grace our story. 
 Nor tell how, in the golden days, 
 
 Tradition, wise and hoary. 
 Filled up our glasses with the wine. 
 
 Stored in his vault for ages. 
 And sipped by endless dynasties 
 
 Of sophomores and sages. 
 On themes like these naught can we say: 
 They are not ours Alumni Day. 
 
 From ninety-four to ninety-eight 
 
 'T is nothing, we acknowledge ; 
 Scarce time to smooth the wrinkles out, — 
 
 Those learned stamps of college ! 
 Not through long vistas do we catch 
 
 The arcade's pristine glimmer ; 
 And in our lives the freshman glow 
 
 Is but a shadow dimmer. 
 We 're freshmen j-et, whate'er we say, 
 Though we observe Alumni Day. 
 
 What then? For all we seem to yield 
 
 Is there no reservation ? 
 Can honored age alone provide 
 
 The theme for high oration ?
 
 39 
 
 Do time and great achievement give 
 
 To life its only measure? 
 And must the tedious years amass 
 
 The only worthy treasure ? 
 Must all the gloss be mixed with gray, 
 Ere it beseem Alumni Day ? 
 
 Well, grant it so ! We are not poor, 
 
 While ever through and o'er us 
 God's treasured benedictions flow. 
 
 The ages gone before us 
 Have robed these Palo Alto hills 
 
 In earth's primeval dower, — 
 The gold of sunlit centuries, 
 
 The green from heaven's first shower. 
 The splendor of a dateless May 
 Is light for our Alumni Day. 
 
 And must we urge a higher claim 
 
 To lofty derivation ? 
 Trace lineage to the first outleap 
 
 Of man's bold aspiration ? 
 Or tell how heart first spake to heart. 
 
 And how the word kept going. 
 Till human love for human kind 
 
 Set all the dull mass glowing? 
 And how such love's peculiar ray . 
 Does grace to our Alumni Day ? 
 
 Forego the tale ! Life's deeper truths 
 
 Are ever marred when spoken. 
 We scarce can breathe the mystic air. 
 
 And leave the spell unbroken. 
 The past is safe. Our doubts, our joys, 
 
 Our worship consecrating. 
 Look outward to the forms that stand 
 
 About our portals, waiting, 
 Till future seems to crowd away 
 The past, e'en on Alumni Day.
 
 40 
 
 Along th' arcades, with measured step, 
 
 The years — a mute procession — 
 Advance and fix their brazen seals, 
 
 In undisturbed progression. 
 These ranks are deep'ning; and as hope 
 
 Blends into high achieving, 
 Fond memory hangs its trophies up. 
 
 If, then, 't is worth believing 
 That, through the spirits' power we hold 
 
 E'en now in half-possession, 
 Each gain for which we deeply pray. 
 How rich is our Alumni Day ! 
 
 The last toast w^as responded to by President Jordan, who took 
 for his theme " The Past Year." It is to be regretted that there 
 is no complete report of this address. Those who have heard 
 Dr. Jordan many times have never heard him speak with deeper 
 feeling or finer effect. He referred especially to several occasions 
 in the past year when circumstances had caused him to feel a 
 special pride in the university, and closed with the hope that the 
 days of adversity were almost at an end. 
 
 Then followed the singing of " Hail, Stanford, Hail," and the 
 company parted.
 
 41 
 
 TREASURER'S REPORT FOR 1897-98. 
 
 The present condition of the Treasury of the Association is shown 
 by the following: — 
 
 RECEIPTS. 
 
 Balance from report printed in Proceedings of last year . | 81 59 
 
 Fees paid for the year 1895-96 11 00 
 
 Fees paid for the year 1896-97 39 00 
 
 Fees paid for the year 1S97-98 158 00 
 
 Fees paid for the year 1898-99 i 00 
 
 Total ^290 59 
 
 EXPENDITURES. 
 
 Stationery, stamps, etc | 26 46 
 
 Printing due-bills, register-blanks, programmes, etc. . . 16 00 
 
 For 700 Manila envelopes for the Proceedings 3 85 
 
 Printing 800 copies of the Proceedings 70 00 
 
 Postage on Proceedings 19 08 
 
 Express on Proceedings . 2 35 
 
 For clerical labor 11 63 
 
 Deficit on luncheon 15 70 
 
 Total $165 oy 
 
 Balance in treasury I125 59 
 
 Charles E. Cox, Treasurer. 
 
 Stanford University, June 22, 189S.
 
 UNIYEKSITY 01- ^ ali-^uaNIA 
 
 AT 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 UBRARY
 
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 Pamphlet 
 I Binder 
 
 , Gaylord Bros., Inc. 
 
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 PAT. IAN. 21, 1908 
 
 UCLA-Young Research Library 
 
 LD3049 .A2 1898 
 
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