You are going to be greatly discouraged sometimes, but if you will

heed the lesson of fighting out what you have undertaken, that same

disposition will follow you all through life, and you will get a

reputation, because people will say of you that there is a person who

sticks to whatever he or she undertakes. One of the saddest things

in life is to see an individual who has grown to old age, with no

profession, with no calling whatever from which he is sure of getting

an independent living. It is sad to see such individuals without money,

without homes, in their old age, simply because they did not learn the

lesson of saving money and getting for themselves a beautiful home when

they ought to have done this. And so, all through life, we can point to

many people who have not learned this lesson--that for whatever they

undertake they must pay the price which the world asks of them if they

would succeed. If we are going to succeed we must pay the price for

what we get; and he who accomplishes the most, accomplishes it in an

humble and straightforward way, by sticking to what he has undertaken.

He who does this finds in the end that he has achieved a tremendous

success.

WHAT YOU OUGHT TO DO

It is comparatively easy to perform almost any kind of work, but the

value of any work is in having it performed so that the desired results

may be most speedily reached, and in having the means with which the

worker labours arranged so as to meet certain ends. It is the constant

problem of those organs which have charge of the well-being of the

body, to cause digestion to take place, so that what is nourishing in

the food may reach every part of the body, not only the portions near

the organs in which digestion takes place, but also the most extreme

parts of the different members.

Just so it is the aim of all persons who are accustomed to making

public addresses to try to make those who are far away from them hear

them as well as those who sit near. In this same way, it seems to me

more and more every year, it is going to be the main object of all

our schools in the South to make their influence felt most forcibly

among those who are remote from them. How can we reach the masses

who are remote--I mean remote from educational advantages and from

opportunities for encouragement and enlightenment? The problem in the

rural districts is difficult because of the vastness of the number to

be reached, and of the frequent difficulty of reaching them. We must

keep this fact before us, then; that institutions of this kind are of

little value unless they can pave the way to make the results of their

work felt among the masses of the people who are especially remote from

these institutions.

It is a fact, as most of you know, that we very seldom meet with a

thoroughly well-educated teacher in the rural districts, in spite of

the passing of over thirty years since we became men and women. You

know, too, that the same thing is, in too large a measure, true of the

ministry. The responsibility for reaching these people, for affecting

them for good, rests upon the young men and young women who are being

educated in these Southern institutions to-day.

What are you going to do as your part towards reaching these people,

towards carrying to them the light which they need so much and so

earnestly long for? Difficult as this problem is, it is not a

discouraging one, because these people are ready to follow the light

as soon as they are sure that the right kind of light is set up before

them. You very seldom meet with a coloured man who is not conscious of

his ignorance, and who is not anxious to get up as soon as he finds

himself down. In this respect the problem is encouraging.

One of the ways in which the problem is serious is with respect to

labour. In almost every city and town in the South a large proportion

of the coloured people are shiftless so far as manual labour is

concerned, although I think there is already improvement. The masses of

our people are given to thrift and industry, and to unremitting toil,

in their way. The hard thing about it, the discouraging thing, is that

they do not know how to realize on the results of their toil; because

they have no education and little idea of industrial development, they

do not know how to make their work tell for what it ought to. As a

general thing the people--those in the country especially--do not ask

anybody to come and give them food, clothing and houses; all they ask

is for some person, some honest, upright man or woman who is interested

in their welfare, to come among them and show them how to direct their

efforts and their energy, show them how best to realize on the results

of their work, so that they can supply their own moral, religious and

material needs and educate their children.

And you will find that wherever this institution, Hampton, Talladega,

Fisk, Atlanta or any other, can put in the midst of the people

young men and young women who will settle down among them and make

their lives object lessons for the people--plant a good school and

convince the people that the teacher has settled down there to stay

through encouraging or discouraging circumstances--you will find that

such a teacher will not only be encouraged, but will be supported

materially. In every way there will be an opportunity for that person

to revolutionize the community. That opportunity is open to you. It is

an opportunity which is being opened to no other set of young men and

young women who are being educated anywhere else in the world. Are you

going to appreciate the beauty and grandeur of this opportunity?

I was talking with a gentleman last night who has recently spent some

time in one of the Southern states, and he told me that in hardly any

country district in that state was there a public school which is kept

open longer than four months. He tells me that the average salary in

some of those districts is little more than fifteen dollars a month. In

another state the condition of the people is about the same. In our own

state perhaps the conditions are worse even than in the states referred

to. In some counties in Alabama the people are this year receiving no

money to run their schools more than three and a half months in the

year, except, of course, in the cities and towns. In some counties the

teachers are being paid only twelve to twenty dollars, and there are

possibly some where the teachers get not more than ten dollars from the

state fund.

I was talking with a gentleman from another state not long ago about

the material condition of the people in that state, and he told me that

so far as their industrial life is concerned, the masses are in a very

bad condition this year; that they are too often at the mercy of the

landowners--I refer to the persons who run the large plantations--and

that the same thing is largely true of all of the cotton-raising

states. I need not go on to describe to you the moral results that must

inevitably follow such a condition of things. I need not take your

time to tell you that there can be little morality or religion among

people who are so ignorant as these people, and who do not know where

they are going to get anything to eat. It is needless to describe the

train of moral evils that must follow such conditions as these.

What I have attempted to describe to you as existing to-day in these

country districts may not be very encouraging, but it seems to me that

every young man and young woman who has enjoyed the privileges afforded

by this and by other institutions in the South--I speak especially now

to the members of the next graduating class--should feel that such

conditions as these present one of the most inviting fields possible

for labour. Every young man and woman here is being educated by money

that is given by others. None of you are paying for the education you

are receiving. You might pay for your board, but you would have to do

that elsewhere. Every one must pay for his or her own clothing, but the

cost of buildings, rent, tuition, expenses and other matters pertaining

to the institution you do not pay. Your education, in a large measure,

is a gift from the public, and it seems to me that one of the first

things you should do is to repay, to as large an extent as is possible

with your services, what has been spent in giving you so large a part

of your education.

This is a debt that you owe not only to yourselves, but to our race and

our country. It is a religious debt as well, that you be willing to

go out into these country districts and suffer, as it were, for a few

years, until you can get a foothold, so that you can plant yourselves

in one of these dark communities. I feel sure that you would not have

to suffer very long. I believe that the hardest part of the struggle

would come during the first two or three years. When you can convince

the people that you are in earnest, the battle is won. When you can

convince them that it is cheaper to keep an educated teacher than

to keep one who is ignorant, and when you can once demonstrate your

value to them not only in an educational respect but industrially and

morally, the battle is won, and these people will stand by you and

support you. In many cases, it is my belief, you will eventually find

yourselves better supported financially than you would if you had gone

to work in cities and large towns. No matter from which side you look

at this problem, good is bound to come from it.

And while we are talking about the reward that will come as a result of

your services, let me tell you that no greater satisfaction can come

to any one than that which you will get from the worship and praise

which will come to you from these old mothers and fathers who will be

benefited by your services. I know of instances where teachers have

gone and planted themselves in these country districts who, even if

they do not make such a very great success financially, receive the

love and most sincere worship from year to year, because of the feeling

of gratitude which the people among whom they have settled have for

them on account of their having helped them in so many ways.

This same kind of pioneer work had to be done all over the world

before the right kind of civilization was planted. It was such

work as this that the people did who settled the great West, where

they were deprived of the comforts of life. The people who planted

Oberlin College in what was then a wilderness had to suffer many such

hardships. The men who went to Washington, Oregon, and California and

established what are now large cities there, had to suffer many such

hardships; they had to suffer just what you must and should suffer.

Are you going to suffer for your own people until they can receive the

light which they so much need? If the young men and women before me

have the right kind of stuff in them they will do this. Most certainly

do I hope that you are going to carry out into these dark communities

the light which you receive here from day to day. I hope you will

fill these districts with men and women of education. When you go out

from here with your diploma, whether it be next May or at some other

time, resolve to plant yourself in one community and stay there. No

matter what your work is, you cannot accomplish much if you become the

wandering Jew. Find the community where you think you can use your life

to the best advantage, and then stay there.

[In the time that has elapsed since this talk was given, I think

there has been improvement in many of the country schools in the

South, and in the general condition of the people as described to

me then.--B. T. W.]

INDIVIDUAL RESPONSIBILITY

I have referred in a general way, before this, when I have been

speaking to you, to the fact that each one of you ought to feel an

interest in whatever task is set you to do here over and above the

mere bearing which that task has on your own life. I wish to speak

more specifically to-night on this subject--on what I may term the

importance of your feeling a sense of personal responsibility not only

for the successful performance of every task set you, but for the

successful outcome of every worthy undertaking with which you come in

contact.

You ought to realize that your actions will not affect yourselves

alone. In this age it is almost impossible for a man to live for

himself alone. On every side our lives touch those of others; their

lives touch ours. Even if it were possible to live otherwise, few would

wish to. A narrow life, a selfish life, is almost sure to be not only

unprofitable but unhappy. The happy people and the successful people

are those who go out of their way to reach and influence for good as

many persons as they can. In order to do this, though, in order best to

fit one's self to live this kind of life, it is important that certain

habits be acquired; and an essential one of these is the habit of

realizing one's responsibility to others.

Your actions will affect other people in one way or another, and you

will be responsible for the result. You ought always to remember this,

and govern yourselves accordingly. Suppose it is the matter of the

recitation of a lesson, for instance. Some one may say: "It is nobody's

business but my own if I fail in a recitation. Nobody will suffer but

me." This is not so. Indirectly you injure your teacher also, for while

a conscientious, hard-working teacher ought not to be blamed for the

failures of pupils who do not learn simply because they do not want

to, or are too lazy to try, it is generally the case that a teacher's

reputation gains or loses as his or her class averages high or low.

And each failure in recitation, for whatever cause, brings down the

average. Then, too, you are having an influence upon your classmates,

even if it be unconscious. There is hardly ever a student who is not

observed by some one at some time as an example. "There is such a

boy," some other student says to himself. "He has failed in class ever

so many times, and still he gets along. It can't make much difference

if I fail once." And as a result he neglects his duty, and does fail.

The same thing is true of work in the industrial departments. Too many

students try to see how easily they can get through the day, or the

work period, and yet not get into trouble. Or even if they take more

interest than this, they care for their work only for the sake of what

they can get out of it for themselves, either as pay, or as instruction

which will enable them to work for pay at some later time. Now there

ought to be a higher impulse behind your efforts than that. Each

student ought to feel that he or she has a personal responsibility to

do each task in the very best manner possible. You owe this not only

to your fellow-students, your teachers, the school, and the people who

support the institution, but you owe it even more to yourselves. You

owe it to yourselves because it is right and honest, because nothing

less than this is right and honest, and because you never can be really

successful and really happy until you do study and work and live in

this way.

I have been led to speak specifically on this subject to-night on

account of two occurrences here which have come to my notice. One of

these illustrates the failure on the part of students to feel this

sense of responsibility to which I have referred. The other affords an

illustration of the possession by a student of a feeling of personal

interest and personal responsibility which has been very gratifying and

encouraging. The first incident, I may say, occurred some months ago.

It is possible that the students who were concerned in it may not be

here now or, if they are, that it would not happen again. I certainly

hope not.

A gentleman who had been visiting here was to go away. He left word at

the office of his wish, saying that he planned to leave town on the

five o'clock train in the afternoon. A boy was sent from the office

early in the afternoon with a note to the barn ordering a carriage to

take this gentleman and his luggage to the station. Half-past four

came, and the man had his luggage brought down to the door of the

building in which he had been staying, so as to be ready when the

team came. But no team came. The visitor finally became so anxious

that he walked over to the barn himself. Just as he reached the barn

he met the man who was in charge there, with the note in his hand.

The note had only just that moment reached this man, and of course no

carriage had been sent because the first person who felt that he had

any responsibility in the matter had only just learned that a carriage

was wanted. The boy who had brought the note had given it to another

boy, and he to someone else, and he, perhaps, to someone else. At any

rate it had been delayed because no one had taken enough interest in

the errand to see that whatever business the note referred to received

proper attention. This occurred, as I have said, several months ago,

before the local train here went over to Chehaw to meet all of the

trains. It happened that this particular passenger was going north, and

it was possible by driving to Chehaw for him to get there in time to

take the north-bound train. If he had been going the other way, though,

towards Montgomery, he would have lost the train entirely, and, as

chanced to be the case, would have been unable to keep a very important

engagement. As it was, he was obliged to ride to Chehaw in a carriage,

and the time of a man and team, which otherwise would have been saved,

was required to take him there.

Now when such a thing as this happens, no amount of saying, "I am

sorry," by the person or persons to blame, will help the matter any.

It is too late to help it then. The thing to do is to feel some

responsibility in seeing that things are done right yourself. Take

enough interest in whatever you are engaged in to see that it is going

to come out in the end just as nearly right, just as nearly perfect,

as anything you can do will go towards making it right or perfect. And

if the task or errand passes out of your hands before it is completed,

do not feel that your responsibility in the matter ends until you have

impressed it upon the minds and heart of the person to whom you turn

over the further performance of the duty.

The world is looking for men and women who can tell one why they can

do this thing or that thing, how a certain difficulty was surmounted

or a certain obstacle removed. But the world has little patience with

the man or woman who takes no real interest in the performance of a

duty, or who runs against a snag and gets discouraged, and then simply

tells why he did not do a thing, and gives excuses instead of results.

Opportunities never come a second time, nor do they wait for our

leisure. The years come to us but once, and they come then only to pass

swiftly on, bearing the ineffaceable record we have put upon them. If

we wish to make them beautiful years or profitable years, we must do it

moment by moment as they glide before us.

The other case to which I have referred is pleasanter to speak about.

One day this spring, after it had got late enough in the season so

that it was not as a general thing necessary to have fires to heat

our buildings, a student passing Phelps Hall noticed that there was a

volume of black smoke pouring out of one of the chimneys there. Some

boys might not have noticed the smoke at all; others would have said

that it came from the chimney; still others would have said that it

was none of their business anyway, and would have gone along. This boy

was different. He noticed the smoke, and although he saw, or thought

he saw that it came from the chimney, and if so was probably no sign

of harm, he felt that any smoke at all there at that time was such an

unusual thing that it ought to be investigated for fear it might mean

danger to the building. He was not satisfied until he had gone into the

building and had inspected every floor clear up to the attic, to see

that the chimney and the building were not in danger. As it happened,

the janitor had built a fire in the furnace in the basement for some

reason, so that the young man's anxiety fortunately was unfounded, but

I am heartily glad he had such an anxiety, and that he could not rest

until he found out whether there was any foundation for it or not. I

shall feel that all of our buildings are safer for his being here, and

when he graduates and goes away I hope he will leave many others here

who will have the same sense of personal responsibility which he had.

Let me tell you, here and now, that unless you young men and young

women come to have this characteristic, your lives are going to fall

far short of the best and noblest achievement possible.

We frequently hear the word "lucky" used with reference to a man's

life. Two boys start out in the world at the same time, having the same

amount of education. When twenty years have passed, we find one of them

wealthy and independent; we find him a successful professional man with

an assured reputation, or perhaps at the head of a large commercial

establishment employing many men, or perhaps a farmer owning and

cultivating hundreds of acres of land. We find the second boy, grown

now to be a man, working for perhaps a dollar or a dollar and a half a

day, and living from hand to mouth in a rented house. When we remember

that the boys started out in life equal-handed, we may be tempted to

remark that the first boy has been fortunate, that fortune has smiled

on him; and that the second has been unfortunate. There is no such

nonsense as that. When the first boy saw a thing that he knew he ought

to do, he did it; and he kept rising from one position to another

until he became independent. The second boy was an eye-servant who was

afraid that he would do more than he was paid to do--he was afraid that

he would give fifty cents' worth of labour for twenty-five cents. He

watched the clock, for fear that he would work one minute past twelve

o'clock at noon and past six o'clock at night. He did not feel that he

had any responsibility to look out for his employer's interests. The

first boy did a dollar's worth of work for fifty cents. He was always

ready to be at the store before time; and then, when the bell rang to

stop work, he would go to his employer and ask him if there was not

something more that ought to be done that night before he went home.

It was this quality in the first boy that made him valuable and caused

him to rise. Why should we call him "fortunate" or "lucky?" I think it

would be much more suitable to say of him: "He is responsible."

GETTING ON IN THE WORLD

It is natural and praiseworthy for a person to be looking for a higher

and better position than the one he occupies. So long as a man does

his whole duty in what he is engaged in, he is not to be condemned for

looking for something better to do. Now the question arises:--How are

you going to put yourself in a condition to be in demand for these

higher and more important positions?

In the first place you should be continually on the lookout for

opportunities to improve yourselves in your present work. You should be

constantly on the lookout for chances to make yourselves more valuable

to your present employer, and more efficient in your work for him.

Suppose you are engaged in the work of milking cows--I think it better

to talk of practical things with which you all are acquainted, although

I know that many of you boys had rather I would tell you how to go to

Congress than how to become successful milkers. Inasmuch, though, as

I suspect a good many more of us will have to milk cows than can go

to Congress, I think it will not hurt us to talk about milking. If the

boy who milks cows now does that thoroughly, by doing it he may lay the

foundation to go to Congress later. The point is, that we want to be

constantly on the lookout for ways of improving whatever work we are

engaged in, whether that work be milking cows or doing something else.

In whatever you are doing, there are a great many improvements which

you want to become acquainted with. If your work is dairying, read the

dairy journals. Get hold of every book or paper that you can which has

anything to do with your line of work. Be sure that you know all--or as

nearly as possible all--there is to be known about milking cows. And

then don't be content with what you get out of books and newspapers,

for that information is only the result of some other person's

experience. By conversing with intelligent and experienced persons, and

by your own experiments, you can get much valuable information about

your work. Never get to the point where you are ashamed to ask somebody

else for information. The ignorant man will always be ignorant, if

he fears that by asking for information he will betray his lack of

knowledge.

Character Building Being Addresses Delivered on Sunday Evenings to the Students of Tuskegee Institute · 第 8 / 12 段