THE HESPERIAN
11
WASTE BASKET WAIFS.
u The groatGSt boro on tho faculty." That
is what he has been universally dubbed, and
it is saying a very, very great deal. It is
almost tho strongest superlative that has ever
been applied to man. There are so many
of them; there are tho old ones who have
bored us for years and years, and there are
tho very now ones, so new, some of them
that tho eastern accent has not quite worn
off yet. There are tho pompous ones, who
amuso us by their inapproachableness, and
who are"! always afraid they may lose their
dignity by personal contact with tho students.
There are tho condescendingly social ones
who seek to administer tho pill in a bon bon
and hide the martar's cap under a tennis cap,
and disguise the ferule as a ball bat. And
yet of all these, one man is "absolute master
and dominant lord" in their master role, the
bore. There is no particular reason why he
should be, ho is not bowed down by the
weight of years, nor a crabbed bachelor,
and ho has animation enough to call people
he don't know ugly names, ho is not ignorant
nor narrow minded, nor in bad health. But
some men are born bores just as some men .
are bornpoots"." " ' He certainly, has a grand
opportunity to test "the glory and nothing
of a name."
Egotism is the inevitable result of culture.
Even after men have dispelled all other illus
ions they are slow to realize the fact that
they are only illusions, too. The men of tho
market place know and think very little
about themselves beyond seeing that their
dinner is good and the cut of their coat
reasonably up to date, but the scholar is
with himself so constantly that ho becomes
all in all to himself and unconsciously gets
to thinking himself the best follow in tho
world. Ho stands to himself in place of all
tho beliefs ho has outgrown and all tho
friends he has grown weary of. This is all
fortunate Gnough, for a wise man without
self-confidence is a dreamer and is no good
to anyone. An amusing and sometimes a
vory provoking instanco of this scholarly
egotism is scon when a studont tries to got
credit in one university for work done in
some other institution. No matter how
great may bo your knowledge of the subject,
if you are not thoroughly conversant with
the professor's "method," you get no credit.
Tho fact seems to bo that every great Prof,
is very conscious of his greatness and the
greatness of his "method," and that ho
teaches himself fully as much as his subject.
It is one of the sad yet inevitable proofs of
greatness. This university is, alas, no ex
ception to the rule. If Darwin came to the
University he would have to take Freshman
biology, Macaulay or Gibbon would not be
given one hour's credit for history, and poor
Shakespeare, unless he procured a Rolfo and
a little book of art questions, would be in
gloriously flunked in Macbeth at the end of
the first semester.
When a student comes to Lincoln from
one of tho small towns of the state, he enters
a new world. To a great degree his future
career as a student depends on the particular
clique he happens to fall in with when he
gets here. Lincoln is made up of cliques
and the end and object of every clique is to
run every available person. Their tactics
are very old. They will flatter your vanity
a little, dazzle you a little by their clever
ness which isn't real cleverness after all,
but seems so to you because you have not
heard it before then they will give you a
number of severe tasks to perform and bid
you amuse them for the rest of your student
days. Don't be run; it isn't a large occu
pation. It is very pleasant to be popular
among hundreds of students. It is still
more fatally pleasant to bo popular among
a few people whom you greatly admire. A
love of admiration has dwarfed more iutel
lects and wrecked more careers than any of
the groat vices of the world. After all, ad
miration is not worth your trouble; it is not
evon worth the sacrifice of your opinions.
Above all, it is not worth your seriousness.