_Mr. President, Mr. Mayor, and you, the Men and Women of the
Palmetto State, Men and Women of the South; my Fellow-citizens of
the Union_:
It is indeed to me a peculiar pleasure to have the chance of coming
here to this Exposition held in your old, your beautiful, your
historic city.
My mother’s people were from Georgia; but before they came to Georgia,
before the Revolution, in the days of Colonial rule, they dwelt for
nearly a century in South Carolina; and therefore I can claim your
State as mine by inheritance no less than by the stronger and nobler
right which makes each foot of American soil in a sense the property
of all Americans.
Charleston is not only a typical Southern city; it is also a city
whose history teems with events which link themselves to American
history as a whole. In the early Colonial days Charleston was the
outpost of our people against the Spaniard in the South. In the days
of the Revolution there occurred here some of the events which vitally
affected the outcome of the struggle for Independence, and which
impressed themselves most deeply upon the popular mind. It was here
that the tremendous, terrible drama of the Civil War opened.
With delicate and thoughtful courtesy you originally asked me to come
to this Exposition on the birthday of Abraham Lincoln. The invitation
not only showed a fine generosity and manliness in you, my hosts,
but it also emphasized as hardly anything else could have emphasized
how completely we are now a united people. The wounds left by the
great Civil War, incomparably the greatest war of modern times, have
healed; and its memories are now priceless heritages of honor alike
to the North and to the South. The devotion, the self-sacrifice,
the steadfast resolution and lofty daring, the high devotion to the
right as each man saw it, whether Northerner or Southerner—all these
qualities of the men and women of the early sixties now shine luminous
and brilliant before our eyes, while the mists of anger and hatred
that once dimmed them have passed away forever.
All of us, North and South, can glory alike in the valor of the men
who wore the blue and of the men who wore the gray. Those were iron
times, and only iron men could fight to its terrible finish the giant
struggle between the hosts of Grant and Lee, the struggle that came to
an end thirty-seven years ago this very day. To us of the present day,
and to our children and children’s children, the valiant deeds, the
high endeavor, and abnegation of self shown in that struggle by those
who took part therein will remain for evermore to mark the level to
which we in our turn must rise whenever the hour of the Nation’s need
may come.
When four years ago this Nation was compelled to face a foreign foe,
the completeness of the reunion became instantly and strikingly
evident. The war was not one which called for the exercise of more
than an insignificant fraction of our strength, and the strain put
upon us was slight indeed compared with the results. But it was a
satisfactory thing to see the way in which the sons of the soldier of
the Union and the soldier of the Confederacy leaped eagerly forward,
emulous to show in brotherly rivalry the qualities which had won
renown for their fathers, the men of the great war. It was my good
fortune to serve under an ex-Confederate general, gallant old Joe
Wheeler, who commanded the cavalry division at Santiago.
In my regiment there were certainly as many men whose fathers had
served in the Southern, as there were men whose fathers had served
in the Northern, army. Among the captains there was opportunity to
promote but one to field rank. The man who was singled out for this
promotion because of conspicuous gallantry in the field was the son of
a Confederate general and was himself a citizen of this, the Palmetto
State; and no American officer could wish to march to battle beside a
more loyal, gallant, and absolutely fearless comrade than my former
captain and major, your fellow-citizen, Micah Jenkins.
A few months ago, owing to the enforced absence of the Governor of
the Philippines, it became necessary to nominate a Vice-Governor to
take his place—one of the most important places in our Government at
this time. I nominated as Vice-Governor an ex-Confederate, General
Luke Wright, of Tennessee. It is therefore an ex-Confederate who now
stands as the exponent of this Government and this people in that
great group of islands in the eastern seas over which the American
flag floats. General Wright has taken a leading part in the work of
steadily bringing order and peace out of the bloody chaos in which
we found the islands. He is now taking a leading part not merely in
upholding the honor of the flag by making it respected as the symbol
of our power, but still more in upholding its honor by unwearied labor
for the establishment of ordered liberty—of law-creating, law-abiding
civil government—under its folds.
The progress which has been made under General Wright and those like
him has been indeed marvelous. In fact, a letter of the General’s the
other day seemed to show that he considered there was far more warfare
about the Philippines in this country than there was warfare in the
Philippines themselves! It is an added proof of the completeness of
the reunion of our country that one of the foremost men who have been
instrumental in driving forward the great work for civilization and
humanity in the Philippines has been a man who in the Civil War fought
with distinction in a uniform of Confederate gray.
If ever the need comes in the future the past has made abundantly
evident the fact that from this time on Northerner and Southerner
will in war know only the generous desire to strive how each can do
the more effective service for the flag of our common country. The
same thing is true in the endless work of peace, the never-ending
work of building and keeping the marvelous fabric of our industrial
prosperity. The upbuilding of any part of our country is a benefit to
the whole, and every such effort as this to stimulate the resources
and industry of a particular section is entitled to the heartiest
support from every quarter of the Union. Thoroughly good national work
can be done only if each of us works hard for himself, and at the same
time keeps constantly in mind that he must work in conjunction with
others.
You have made a particular effort in your Exhibition to get into touch
with the West Indies. This is wise. The events of the last four years
have shown us that the West Indies and the Isthmus must in the future
occupy a far larger place in our national policy than in the past.
This is proved by the negotiations for the purchase of the Danish
Islands, the acquisition of Porto Rico, the preparation for building
an Isthmian canal, and, finally, by the changed relations which these
years have produced between us and Cuba. As a Nation we have especial
right to take honest pride in what we have done for Cuba. Our critics
abroad and at home have insisted that we never intended to leave the
island. But on the 20th of next month Cuba becomes a free republic,
and we turn over to the islanders the control of their own government.
It would be very difficult to find a parallel in the conduct of any
other great State that has occupied such a position as ours. We have
kept our word and done our duty, just as an honest individual in
private life keeps his word and does his duty.
Be it remembered, moreover, that after our four years’ occupation of
the island we turn it over to the Cubans in a better condition than it
ever has been in all the centuries of Spanish rule. This has a direct
bearing upon our own welfare. Cuba is so near to us that we can never
be indifferent to misgovernment and disaster within its limits. The
mere fact that our administration in the island has minimized the
danger from the dreadful scourge of yellow fever, alike to Cuba and
to ourselves, is sufficient to emphasize the community of interest
between us. But there are other interests which bind us together.
Cuba’s position makes it necessary that her political relations with
us should differ from her political relations with other powers. This
fact has been formulated by us and accepted by the Cubans in the Platt
amendments. It follows as a corollary that where the Cubans have thus
assumed a position of peculiar relationship to our political system
they must similarly stand in a peculiar relationship to our economic
system.
We have rightfully insisted upon Cuba adopting toward us an attitude
differing politically from that she adopts toward any other
power; and in return, as a matter of right, we must give to Cuba a
different—that is, a better—position economically in her relations
with us than we give to other powers. This is the course dictated by
sound policy, by a wise and far-sighted view of our own interest, and
by the position we have taken during the past four years. We are a
wealthy and powerful country, dealing with a much weaker one; and the
contrast in wealth and strength makes it all the more our duty to deal
with Cuba, as we have already dealt with her, in a spirit of large
generosity.
This Exposition is rendered possible because of the period of
industrial prosperity through which we are passing. While material
well-being is never all-sufficient to the life of a nation, yet it
is the merest truism to say that its absence means ruin. We need to
build a higher life upon it as a foundation; but we can build little
indeed unless this foundation of prosperity is deep and broad. The
well-being which we are now enjoying can be secured only through
general business prosperity, and such prosperity is conditioned upon
the energy and hard work, the sanity and the mutual respect, of all
classes of capitalists, large and small, of wage-workers of every
degree. As is inevitable in a time of business prosperity, some men
succeed more than others, and it is unfortunately also inevitable that
when this is the case some unwise people are sure to try to appeal to
the envy and jealousy of those who succeed least. It is a good thing
when these appeals are made to remember that while it is difficult
to increase prosperity by law, it is easy enough to ruin it, and that
there is small satisfaction to the less prosperous if they succeed in
overthrowing both the more prosperous and themselves in the crash of a
common disaster.
Every industrial exposition of this type necessarily calls up the
thought of the complex social and economic questions which are
involved in our present industrial system. Our astounding material
prosperity, the sweep and rush rather than the mere march of our
progressive material development, have brought grave troubles in
their train. We can not afford to blink these troubles, any more than
because of them we can afford to accept as true the gloomy forebodings
of the prophets of evil. There are great problems before us. They
are not insoluble, but they can be solved only if we approach them
in a spirit of resolute fearlessness, of common-sense, and of honest
intention to do fair and equal justice to all men alike. We are
certain to fail if we adopt the policy of the demagogue who raves
against the wealth which is simply the form of embodied thrift,
foresight, and intelligence; who would shut the door of opportunity
against those whose energy we should especially foster, by penalizing
the qualities which tell for success. Just as little can we afford to
follow those who fear to recognize injustice and to endeavor to cut it
out because the task is difficult or even—if performed by unskilful
hands—dangerous.
This is an era of great combinations both of labor and of capital. In
many ways these combinations have worked for good; but they must work
under the law, and the laws concerning them must be just and wise, or
they will inevitably do evil; and this applies as much to the richest
corporation as to the most powerful labor union. Our laws must be
wise, sane, healthy, conceived in the spirit of those who scorn the
mere agitator, the mere inciter of class or sectional hatred; who wish
justice for all men; who recognize the need of adhering so far as
possible to the old American doctrine of giving the widest possible
scope for the free exercise of individual initiative, and yet who
recognize also that after combinations have reached a certain stage
it is indispensable to the general welfare that the Nation should
exercise over them, cautiously and with self-restraint, but firmly,
the power of supervision and regulation.
Above all, the administration of the government, the enforcement of
the laws, must be fair and honest. The laws are not to be administered
either in the interest of the poor man or the interest of the rich
man. They are simply to be administered justly; in the interest of
justice to each man be he rich or be he poor—giving immunity to
no violator, whatever form the violation may assume. Such is the
obligation which every public servant takes, and to it he must be true
under penalty of forfeiting the respect both of himself and of his
fellows.
And now, my fellow-countrymen, in closing I am going to paraphrase
something said by Governor Aycock last night. I have dwelt to-day upon
the fact that we are indeed a reunited people; that we are indeed and
forever one people. The time was when one could not have made that
statement with truth; now it can be truthfully said. There was a time
when it was necessary to keep saying it, because it was already true,
and because the assertion made it more true; but the time is at hand,
I think the time has come, when it is not necessary to say it again.
Proud of the South? Of course we are proud of the South; not only
Southerners, but Northerners are proud of the South. Proud of your
great deeds? Of course I am proud of your great deeds, for you are
my people. I thank you from my heart for the welcome you have given
me, and I assure you that few experiences in my life have been more
pleasant than the experiences of these two days that I have spent
among you.
AT NEW YORK AT THE BANQUET AT SHERRY’S IN HONOR OF DR. NICHOLAS
MURRAY BUTLER, PRESIDENT OF COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY, APRIL 19, 1902
_Mr. Chairman, and you, my hosts, and my Fellow-Guests_:
What I am going to say to-night will be based upon the altogether
admirable address made this afternoon by my old and valued friend,
the new president of your great university, in the course of which
he spoke of what the university can contribute to the state as being
scholarship and service. There are only a limited number of men of any
university who can add to what has been so well called by Professor
Munsterberg “productive scholarship.” Of course each university should
bend its energies toward developing the few men who are thus able
to add to the sum of the nation’s work in scholarly achievement. To
those men the all-important doctrine to preach is that one piece of
first-rate work is worth a thousand pieces of second-rate work; and
that after a generation has passed each university will be remembered
by what its sons have produced, not in the line of a mass of pretty
good work, but in the way of the few masterpieces. I do not intend,
however, to dwell upon this side of the university’s work, the work of
scholarship, the work of the intellect trained to its highest point
of productiveness. I want to speak of the other side, the side that
produces service to the public, service to the nation. Not one in a
hundred of us is fit to be in the highest sense a productive scholar,
but all of us are entirely fit to do decent service if we care to take
the pains. If we think we can render it without taking the pains, if
we think we can render it by feeling how nice it would be to render
it—why, the value of that service will be but little.
Fortunately to-day those who addressed you had a right to appeal not
merely to what they had spoken, but to what they had done. When we
are inclined to be pessimistic over affairs, and especially public
affairs here in the United States, it is a pleasant thing to be able
to look back to the last twenty years of the life of Columbia’s late
President, Mayor Low. And now, for a moment, look at things in their
pure historic perspective. Think what it means in the way of an
object-lesson to have a man who, after serving two terms as Mayor of
what is now one of the great boroughs of this great city, then became
for twelve years the President of one of the foremost institutions
of learning in the entire land, and then again became the chief
officer of the city. That was not merely creditable to Mr. Low; it was
creditable to us. It spoke well for the city. It is a big mark on the
credit side. We have plenty of marks on the debit side; but we feel
that this goes a long way toward making the balance even.
As for the Dean—why, I sat at the feet of that Gamaliel when I first
went into politics. He and I took part in the affairs of the old
Twenty-first Assembly District in the days when I was just out of
college. My very first experiences in practical politics were gained
in connection with the Dean. And, gentlemen, as I gradually passed out
of the sphere of the Dean, I passed into the sphere of your present
President, and he has been my close friend, my valued adviser, ever
since.
When it comes to rendering service, that which counts chiefly with a
college graduate, as with any other American citizen, is not intellect
so much as what stands above mere power of body, or mere power of
mind, but must in a sense include them, and that is character. It
is a good thing to have a sound body, and a better thing to have a
sound mind; and better still to have that aggregate of virile and
decent qualities which we group together under the name of character.
I said both decent and virile qualities—it is not enough to have one
or the other alone. If a man is strong in mind and body and misuses
his strength then he becomes simply a foe to the body politic, to
be hunted down by all decent men; and if, on the other hand, he has
thoroughly decent impulses but lacks strength he is a nice man, but
does not count. You can do but little with him.
In the unending strife for civic betterment, small is the use of
these people who mean well, but who mean well feebly. The man who
counts is the man who is decent and who makes himself felt as a force
for decency, for cleanliness, for civic righteousness. He must have
several qualities; first and foremost, of course, he must be honest,
he must have the root of right thinking in him. That is not enough.
In the next place he must have courage; the timid good man counts
but little in the rough business of trying to do well the world’s
work. And finally, in addition to being honest and brave he must have
common-sense. If he does not have it, no matter what other qualities
he may have he will find himself at the mercy of those who, without
possessing his desire to do right, know only too well how to make the
wrong effective.
To you, the men of Columbia here, the men of this great city, and the
men who, when they graduate, go to other parts of the country, we have
the right to look in an especial degree for service to the public.
To you much has been given, and woe and shame to you if we can not
rightfully expect much from you in return.
We can pardon the man who has no chance in life if he does but little
for the State, and we can count it greatly to his credit if he does
much for the State. But upon you who have had so much rests a heavy
burden to show that you are worthy of what you have received. A double
responsibility is upon you to use aright, not merely the talents that
have been given to you, but the chances you have to make much of these
talents. We have a right to expect service to the State from you in
many different lines: In the line of what, for lack of a better word,
we will call philanthropy; in all lines of effort for public decency.
Remember always that the man who does a thing so that it is worth
doing is always a man who does his work for the work’s sake. Somewhere
in Ruskin there is a sentence to the effect that the man who does a
piece of work for the fee, normally does it in a second-rate way,
and that the only first-rate work is the work done by the man who
does it for the sake of doing it well, who counts the deed as itself
his reward. In no kind of work done for the public do you ever find
the really best, except where you find the man who takes hold of it
because he is irresistibly impelled to do it, because he wishes to do
it for the sake of doing it well, not for the sake of any reward that
comes afterward or in connection with it. Of course, gentlemen, that
is true of almost every other walk of life, just exactly as true as it
is in politics. A clergyman is not worth his salt if he finds himself
bound to be a clergyman for the material reward of that profession.
Every doctor who has ever succeeded has been a man incapable of
thinking of his fee when he did a noteworthy surgical operation. A
scientific man, a writer, a historian, an artist, can only be a good
man of science, a first-class artist, a first-class writer, if he does
his work for the sake of doing it well; and this is exactly as true
in political life, exactly as true in every form of social effort, in
every kind of work done for the public at large. The man who does work
worth doing is the man who does it because he can not refrain from
doing it, the man who feels it borne in on him to try that particular
job and see if he can not do it well. And so it is with a general in
the field. The man in the Civil War who thought of any material reward
for what he did was not among the men whose names you read now on the
honor roll of American history.
So the work that our colleges can do is to fit their graduates to do
service—to fit the bulk of them, the men who can not go in for the
highest type of scholarship, to do the ordinary citizen’s service for
the country; and they can fit them to do this service only by training
them in character. To train them in character means to train them not
only to possess, as they must possess, the softer and gentler virtues,
but also the virile powers of a race of vigorous men, the virtues of
courage, of honesty—not merely the honesty that refrains from doing
wrong, but the honesty that wars aggressively for the right—the
virtues of courage, honesty, and, finally, hard common-sense.