Appendix A 



ethical questions, problems, cults, and -isms, which is, I 

 suppose, a mark of the Stanford Spirit. Im Guten, Ganzen, 

 Wahren, resolut zu lehen, — there is nothing so great as this; 

 and may we not hope and partly believe that something of 

 this virtue may have emanated from us all, individually and 

 collectively? In so far as this were true, just in so far were our 

 quixotic dreams realized. With the eye of Faith, I seem to see 

 that perhaps we builded wiser than we knew. How if we were 

 like those who, going out to seek their father's asses, found a 

 kingdom? This or that art or science our students might, per- 

 haps, have learned elsewhere, as well as here, — although some 

 of them would repudiate such a concession; but surely the total 

 effect, what they call the Stanford Spirit, they could have 

 become imbued with nowhere else. 



Such, then, is our creation: assuredly not these layers of 

 masonry yonder, which the unthinking term Stanford Univer- 

 sity; nor yet chiefly the outward results of our toil, patience, 

 vigilance, self-sacrifice; not even the prowess of the heroes of 

 track and gridiron; but rather the preparation for life, the out- 

 look upon life, the power to hand on the lamp of fire, which 

 are acquired here. In these consist the Stanford Spirit — a 

 term which, like other great abstractions, such as Culture, 

 Civilization, God, is indefinable, and liable to abuse. Wie Einer 

 ist so ist mein Gott: thus the measure of a Stanford Man is given 

 by his conception of the Stanford Spirit. 



Without you. Sir, whom we are met to greet and honor, that 

 spirit would be unthinkable. From your first announcement 

 that we were to breathe die Luft der Freiheit, down to your 

 bravely simple talk the other day on "the religion of a sensible 

 man," you have done more than any other, more perhaps than 

 all others, to keep that Spirit alive. 



But I desist from commonplaces of eulogy which may better 

 befit him who shall at some far future date inscribe your epitaph. 

 It is something intimate and personal that draws us to you 

 tonight. You have reached a waymark upon the march of 

 existence — a high point of observation from which we, who 

 are near you, can look back over the fair prospect. Of time we 

 have had about the same allotment as you — which is all the 

 time there is; and we have endeavored not to waste the time we 

 have had. Not every one of us, however, can feel that he has 



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