Word: truths
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...Harvard persists in its spirit of academic reserve, of stalwart refusal to admit that the "vox populi" is always the "vox Dei". It has at all times been a leader in American education because it has sought the Truth, and not because it has followed popular clamor. It has insisted on its right to set its own standards, no matter how defective they may have been; and in its students it has recognized the creative power of the individual and the small group as against the control of the crowd. The West may stand for that vague thing we call...
...imaginative glow and dramatic fire, strains plausibility. Even the sub-title, "From an Alaskan Diary", does not entirely persuade us. The "one last, single, long-drawn howl" is too much for us. We receive without accepting. And so of Mr. Whitman's "Shadows of Our Fancy": more poetry than truth, magnificent settings and colorless characters; the shuttle of narrative weaves a gorgeous milieu--and nothing happens...
...those who, with bated breath, had watched the demon of the sea; and from whose tongues the off-told tale slipped readily over a mug of ale in the smoky seamen's taverns. Weird and fearful were those stories, none the less so because the visible proofs of their truth were always lacking. Long and hot would be the resulting arguments; the scoffers declaring that the supposed monster was only an unusually large whale a school of dolphins, or a mass of drifting kelp. But the believers shook their heads, asserting that no one could tell what the sea might...
...that it is time to "find himself." He discards his views on what constitutes a "good fellow"--judges men less from the clothes they wear and courses less from the "sure C" attitude. In a word, the Sophomore begins to grow up. He considers himself a man. For, in truth, the youth of twenty feels as old as he thinks he ever will. In this "maturity" the mind's balancing scale weighs heavily toward business, toward--as we have heard many undergraduates say--"life...
...appreciable extent by overt "recognition", that it can thrive lustily even though accompanied by something less than a fanfare of trumphets. Scholarship--not to put too fine a point upon it--is like virtue, its own reward. This may sound like arrant sentimentality: it is the soberest truth. The real stimulus to the life of study is not, of course, the applause of the market place but one's own unquenchable thirst for knowledge, one's love of ideas for their own sake. Only those who, however humbly, have swung their oars in it, can know the zest of that...