dividualism. Both were essential and
constituted what was best in America's contribution to history and to
progress. Both must be preserved if the nation would be true to its
past, and would fulfil its highest destiny. It would be a grave
misfortune if these people so rich in experience, in self-confidence and
aspiration, in creative genius, should turn to some Old World discipline
of socialism or plutocracy, or despotic rule, whether by class or by
dictator. Nor shall we be driven to these alternatives. Our ancient
hopes, our courageous faith, our underlying good humor and love of fair
play will triumph in the end. There will be give and take in all
directions. There will be disinterested leadership, under loyalty to the
best American ideals. Nowhere is this leadership more likely to arise
than among the men trained in the Universities, aware of the promise of
the past and the possibilities of the future. The times call for new
ambitions and new motives.

In a most suggestive essay on the Problems of Modern Democracy, Mr.
Godkin has said:

M. de Tocqueville and all his followers take it for granted
that the great incentive to excellence, in all countries in
which excellence is found, is the patronage and encouragement
of an aristocracy; that democracy is generally content with
mediocrity. But where is the proof of this? The incentive to
exertion which is widest, most constant, and most powerful in
its operations in all civilized countries, is the desire of
distinction; and this may be composed either of love of fame
or love of wealth or of both. In literary and artistic and
scientific pursuits, sometimes the strongest influence is
exerted by a love of the subject. But it may safely be said
that no man has ever labored in any of the higher colleges to
whom the applause and appreciation of his fellows was not one
of the sweetest rewards of his exertions.

What is there we would ask, in the nature of democratic
institutions, that should render this great spring of action
powerless, that should deprive glory of all radiance, and put
ambition to sleep? Is it not notorious, on the contrary, that
one of the most marked peculiarities of democratic society, or
of a society drifting toward democracy, is the fire of
competition which rages in it, the fevered anxiety which
possesses all its members to rise above the de