pendence, who is not willing to be managed, who does not approve of political chicanery, and who disappoints and surprises the friend who expected to profit from his election.
Not long ago a young junior came to me to get my opinion as to his fitness for the position of president of one of our important student organizations.
"You'd be a poor man for the place," I said to him frankly. "You are not aggressive, you are not independent, and the men behind you are lacking in the right political principles."
"I think I'll surprise you," he said, and he did. He succeeded in the election, and before he graduated I wrote him that I considered him the best officer his organization had ever had. He was punctilious in the performance of the duties of his office, and these were not few. He would not be managed, he would not tolerate irregularity or dishonesty, and when his friends shirked the obligations of the positions to which he had appointed them, they were supplanted by other men who were willing to do the work well. He was quiet, apparently unaggressive, but firm, shrewd, and honest. I never knew whether or not my adverse criticism stimulated him to do his best, but I do know that I wish every college had more undergraduate officials like him.
Another similar illustration occurs to me. The man in question was chosen to run for president of the senior class because it was taken for granted that he would handle affairs to the financial advantage of his friends. He allowed himself to be supported in his political campaign by the most untrustworthy politicians on the campus. After his election he
