Address of President Wm. C. Smith

The General Society of Mechanics and Tradesmen is made up of men who owe what they possess, not to chance, not to gifts of their forefathers, but to the fruit of honest toil. The Society which they have fostered for a hundred years owes its standing to the steady accumulations of these years, not to any sudden speculation or easily acquired prosperity, and it is with pleasure, therefore, that the Society devotes its time and means in helping others to help themselves. We believe in the aristocracy of labor, and we are glad that we are able to do anything whereby we can help any one to help himself.

I shall not make a lengthy address because it is late; it is warm; there are diplomas to be given out, and I believe that the young ladies are anxious to get down stairs where the attraction is greater than anything I can offer them. Yet there is one thought I would like to give out, if you will excuse me.

Yesterday I met a gentleman whom I have known for many years, and whom I never really knew until yesterday. He said to me, “Billy” (he knew me when I was a boy), “have you half an hour to spare?” First I said, “No;” but I thought better of it and said, “Yes.” “I would like you to come round and look at my house.” As he opened the door of that house it was to me a revelation; if there is anything else like it in this country or city, I do not know where it is. It seemed to me I was in fairyland. Here was a large house and yet so filled that it seemed small, from the top of the very attic down to the first story, with articles of vertu and bric-a-brac, with tapestry that had come from all parts of the globe, with ivories, carved in Japan as nowhere else, with mosaics from all sections of the world, with beautiful chairs, with embroidery that had graced the homes of monarchs in the old country, and on his back porch, and in his yard, were beautiful flowers hardly seen outside of the tropics.

I need not say to you how surprised I was; I had only known him as a mechanic, a member of this Society. I spent an hour and a half there I shall never forget; I asked the privilege of bringing my better half.

But the thought that I wanted to impress was this; in a beautiful case, surrounded with plate glass, was a full dinner set of the finest Sevres china. He explained to me that the set was ordered and made expressly for the second Napoleon when he was in the height of his glory. I said to him, “Where did you get this? I did not know a full set of that kind ever got away from royalty.” He said it did once in a while and this was the only one in this country. He had been explaining to me things I never knew about, and he came back to his own self and said, “Billy, you know when the great Napoleon and his court were sipping their soup out of these dishes, I was wielding a paint brush at $1.50 a day and glad to get it.” As I lay trying to go to sleep last night that single sentence came to me and it seemed there was a volume in it. It is an American idea that there is no success which is not attainable by almost any person if we only take those opportunities afforded us. I want to say one word to the ladies, and I believe I said something of the same kind to the boys. I often see it in the papers, I hear it in speeches at trade societies and all that sort of thing, that there is a great change in America; there is no longer any chance to rise; and that we are divided into classes, and that the rich are going to get richer and the poor going to stay where they are.

I hope every American will disabuse his mind of anything like that; there never was a time when opportunities were greater than now. We have got to believe in ourselves and watch the opportunities when they come to us; success cannot be obtained in a day. We may not have to build a railroad but we will build something else, perhaps greater.

Young ladies, it is my privilege on behalf of the General Society of Mechanics and Tradesmen, as its President, to present you with these diplomas. I do so with pleasure; first, because I feel that it is our right to give them to you; secondly, because I feel that it is your right to receive them, for you have earned them. They represent to me six months of careful, earnest, intelligent study; six months of devoting yourself to the habit of close application; six months of forming the habit of industry; habits which, I take it, make the road to success to any one who expects to succeed in the future. I congratulate you upon receiving them; they are certificates that carry with them pleasant memories, and I hope will prove in after years profitable ones. In behalf of the General Society, it is my pleasure to thank your teacher; I have witnessed personally his enthusiasm in his calling, and I am proud to say that I have been here night after night and have watched the enthusiasm of the class. I have seen them here sometimes long after the regular school hours, in fact, I had a mind to say, “You are over-taxing these young ladies.” Then I thought it was a life and death struggle for only six months, and the victory was worth the struggle.

I have nothing more to say. I will remember the motto given early in the evening and wish you every success in life which you have obtained in this school.

Salutatory

In typewriting our progress has been as encouraging as in Phonography. From slowly picking out the words: “William Jex quickly caught five dozen Republicans,” a sentence which not only exhausted all the letters of the alphabet, but in our attempts to decipher which, after writing, exhausted our ingenuity as well, we passed to the time when legal documents and business letters could be run off with an ease which at the beginning seemed almost impossible.

Let us pause a moment to consider the advantages of these two arts: first and chiefly, they afford us the means of gaining a livelihood in a way more agreeable than many others; secondly, in the taking of notes of lectures upon various arts and sciences we become acquainted with these subjects to an extent which would otherwise require much special study.

How then can we be otherwise than grateful to those who have placed these advantages within our reach?

To you, Gentlemen of the School Committee and of the Special Committee, are our thanks especially due.

Through your kindness in fulfilling our many calls upon your generosity, you have contributed, in no mean degree, to that end toward which we have so earnestly striven.

You, my classmates, undoubtedly share in the pleasure felt by our teachers and the Committee in having passed so successfully through the work of the past eight months.

Let us reflect for how short a time we have pursued our studies. In what branch of study, pursued for the same length of time, could the results attained compare so favorably as in the study of shorthand?

After to-night, over thirty of us, in the different pursuits of a business life, will make practical use of the knowledge gained during the past Winter. Let us always strive to uphold the reputation already gained by the followers of Isaac Pitman.

It has often been said by superficial observers: “O, yes, any one can write shorthand, but how many stenographers can read what they have written?”

Perhaps there have been grounds for such allegations; but have these ever taken into consideration the multitudes of stenographers all over the world who do successfully read their notes?

Look at the voluminous reports of congressional, political and other speeches, appearing in the daily papers from time to time; to say nothing of the hundreds of folios of evidence daily reported in our courts and accurately transcribed.

Do not these sufficiently refute the assertion?

We feel sure the charge will never be brought against any of our class, to each of whom the writing out of her notes has been made as essential a point as taking down.

In closing, let me again, in the name of the Class of ’89, extend a cordial welcome to you all, and let us trust, when we have passed from the immediate influence of these surroundings, and have entered upon the career for which the studies of the past Winter have been but preparatory, we shall continue to merit your kind approbation.

Class Poem

A Class History

Like all travelers about to enter upon strange and novel scenes, we started upon this journey with eager eyes, and minds full of expectancy. Following closely in the footsteps of our leader, we approached the enchanted forest. The entrance was guarded by great trees, which seemed to extend, as far as the eye could see, in one long avenue, and we were surprised to find, upon coming nearer, that the forest which at first appeared to be but a heterogeneous mass of stems, was set out and arranged in the most orderly and symmetrical manner, and we saw that we should be enabled to find our way about much more easily than we had at first feared. In accordance with our guide’s directions, we began jotting down in our memory tablets the names of the different trees, and the peculiarities of each. Certain kinds occurred so often that we soon became familiar with them, and long before we turned into new pathways, we had mastered the names of them all. As we left the main avenue of first principles, we encountered more trees, but so arranged in brilliant foliage and curious blossoms that we almost failed to recognize them. We listened in wonder while our guide unfolded to us the beauty of each bud and leaf; how patiently he traced every vein of the leaf, and every petal of the flower, until our eyes, too, were opened to their beauty so that we could appreciate and discern the difference between them, notwithstanding that they possessed great similarity. This comparative sameness caused us no little trouble, however, at first, for ever and anon, owing to early lack of training in concentration of mind, we were prone to get them confused, and often mistake one for the other. Here again the memory tablets were brought into requisition, and it seemed as though they fairly expanded under the influence of our pencils, so eager were we to absorb all the knowledge possible. As the lover of nature, by constant association with the flowers, the trees, and the shrubs, learns in time the name of each, so we learned, by loving the study of our strange plants, to recognize them at sight.

But we were not left to wander at our own sweet wills. Having thoroughly familiarized ourselves with the details and orderly arrangement of this wonderful forest, and having stopped for awhile to review our progress, we were led into new paths where, though there were many obstructions and apparently insurmountable obstacles, we could at least see the beginning of the end of our journey.

Here, too, sign posts greeted us on many sides, but none were so alluring as that which bore the legend, “Slow and sure.” This accorded perfectly with our ideas, and we would fain have rested awhile, and gazed on the comforting words, had not our guide pointed out to us the necessity for advance, and described the pleasures which were still to come, which, if we chose that as a perpetual motto, we should never enjoy.

As if to give emphasis to his words, a little dwarf, whose name was “Try,” met us at this juncture; and by his bright example urged us on to greater tasks. But alas! there were so many weary hearts waiting for his cheery countenance that he was forced ere long to leave us. Scarce had he gone when his enemy, a misshapen gnome, called “I Forgot,” sprang up in our path, and by many devices, sought to undo the good work of “Try.” Finding this impossible, he, too, soon departed, but his injured lordship, not caring to retire utterly defeated, left his first cousin, “I Didn’t Mean To,” to pester and annoy us throughout our journey.

Ere long the sound of running water attracted our attention, and eagerly we hastened to bathe our faces in a refreshing stream “which ran down the side of a hill,” only to draw back in terror as we saw a poor, meek lamb devoured by a ravenous wolf who had come to the brook-side to drink. Thereafter it seemed as if the wolves had special designs on the lambs at this season, for whenever our travels led us near the creek we were forced to be unwilling spectators to these tragic scenes.

Here and there along the bank we had noticed little pebbles which our Instructor told us were called, in the language of this country, “Grammalogues,” and some of which, attracted by their uniqueness, we had gathered. We were obliged to label and memorize each one, until it seemed as though the tablet would not hold another word, and the memory pouch would break under the weight of, what seemed to us, heavy, worthless stones. But after being polished with the emery of practice, the pebbles grew lighter, and seemed to lose their dull color, and assume a sparkling brilliancy.

How often since have they appeared as bright jewels in our pathway, when, with pencil flying over the page, we have fully realized the fact, that however lenient Old Father Time may seem to be to others, he has no mercy for stenographers.

After becoming somewhat acquainted with our surroundings that we might be able fully to realize every snare and pitfall, we were taught to begin to walk alone. What weak, tottering, childish steps they were. How often our eyes would wander to the face of our guide, as if to implore his help. But he, knowing it was for our good, would simply encourage us instead of rendering the longed for assistance, and we were thus compelled to walk or fall.

But when the nervous feeling had somewhat worn off, and each step became more firm, with what expressions of delight we proclaimed the tidings that we could at least stand alone, and how pleased he seemed at our successes. And then with watchful care was pointed out to us the necessity of removing every obstacle from our path so that our progress should not be retarded. We carefully heeded the instruction, and as a fallen bough or a moss-covered trunk of some old “snag” barred our onward march, we brought all our strength to bear and remove it to a place of safety, so that our weary feet should not be caused to trip over it again. And truly we were weary, while the promised land seemed still afar off. How hard the road appeared can only be realized by those who have trodden it.

A great mountain, like Bunyan’s Hill Difficulty, soon rose before us, and we were told that we must reach its summit, before the view toward which our eyes had been ever turning would burst upon our sight. Here we were joined by a crowd of people, some clamoring for land, which they claimed had been willed to them by those who had long since joined the great majority; others quibbling over deeds and warranty deeds, some of which particularly attracted our attention, on account of their great length and useless verbiage; and others with complaints and actions at law, until our eyes were opened, and we realized, as never before, that strife is more prevalent in the world than peace.

But hard work and that perseverance which we believe is the surest road to success have at length conquered all obstacles. And now, having left behind the clamor and the strife, we stand on the summit of the mountain that has so recently seemed as though it could not be climbed.

And here we rest awhile and look backward. The roads with their winding turns are no longer new, and eyes moisten as we think of the old but true saying:

We will not be called upon to walk in those paths again, but when we meet the familiar faces of our companions we will live over in memory the now seemingly short weeks of our journey.

But let us look also before us. We have penetrated the forest, we have gathered bright gems, we have climbed the mountain height, and now we stand ready to cast our boats adrift upon the ocean of life.

In what waters they shall glide we know not, but can only trust that in that great day of gatherings, all our craft may be moored in the harbor of peace! These thoughts bring to our minds the well known words of our beloved poet Longfellow:

Valedictory

Inventors, and the value of their respective inventions, are fully appreciated by those who make use of them, but there has been no greater gift presented than the one by Mr. Isaac Pitman in 1837, in the shape of Phonography; he, after a few months of hard labor, reduced the phonetic characters to a simple form such as any intelligent and ordinarily educated person might, after a proper amount of application, use to great advantage. The public were not long in realizing the benefits to be derived, and each year has seen a steady growth in the number of shorthand readers and writers, and to-day finds thousands who are successfully using the little strokes, some following the original system, and others using the modifications; all, however, agreeing as to the true worth of shorthand as a time saver.

We who started last Autumn, with the determination to master Phonography and typewriting, knew in part the advantages to be gained after the top was reached, but we did not know by actual experience what breakers were ahead in the accomplishment of the work before us; for the timid ones this very ignorance proved a great blessing,—conquering one difficulty at a time, with the greater ones in the shadow, was not as disheartening as having the future in plain sight.

The multitude of crooks, circles and dry rules were taken in turn and left behind, and after reaching half way the journey, and pausing for a rest and renewal of courage, we began the pleasanter work of writing and reading connectedly. At the start were simple stories which seemed at the time almost silly, then came letters and law matter, and, as the words in the first lessons kept recurring, we began to appreciate “The Wolf and the Lamb” and various companions of a similar nature. Slowly but surely the work has been progressing. Time has fairly flown away and has brought us together to-night for the parting as a class.

There has been much bitter with the sweet and many clouds with the sunshine; social pleasures were necessarily given up and numerous sacrifices made, to say nothing of the keen disappointment brought home to each as she recognized, despite her greatest efforts, that the actual work was far behind what her aspirations had been at the outset. But through all we have been cheered and encouraged by our teachers, nor must I omit the occasional well timed lectures, depressing at the time of delivery, but sending each home with a fixed idea of doing better, and continuing to the end; added to these has been the entire novelty of the whole course, always something new. Like all proverbial Americans, born, it is said, with the interrogation point at tongue’s end, the constant variety made the journey one immense Why?

We are joyous over the prospect of a cessation of hard study, but regret that the end of our intercourse has come, necessitating the severing of ties as teachers and those taught, and the farewell as class friends; but each will carry with her a remembrance of the Winter spent together with much profit and pleasure to all.

To our kind Instructor through all the intricacies of Phonography, we are deeply indebted. Within ourselves is the consciousness that had it not been for his patience and untiring efforts we would have given up in despair long ago; as also to our Instructress and friend who has helped us over the road to the success of typewriting are we equally indebted; to the never flagging energy of both we owe as much as to the individual effort.

Not the least, if mentioned last, is our gratitude to the School Committee. To you, gentlemen, we wish to convey our thanks this evening, both for your generosity, as representatives of the G. S. M. and T., in supplying funds for the maintenance of this glorious work, and for the kindly interest displayed during the past Winter. While regretting our inability to raise the standard higher, we will endeavor, in future, to reflect such credit upon this school as will prove our appreciation of past favors.

To you, my dear classmates, those in particular who have not as yet felt the pecuniary advantages to be derived from this new acquirement, take courage in the fact that six of our number are reaping the benefits even thus early. Wait patiently; do not let the work end with to-night, and become discouraged because of the same old humdrum duties. Remember that in filling the old post honorably, you are doing the work assigned by the Master who in His own season will send what is for your best good. Add to your store of knowledge from day to day, and be able to say with the poet:

Salutatory Address

Now, as all our girls cannot be housekeepers, neither can they be business women, is it not the best plan where there are two girls in a family, to teach one how to minister to the wants of the household, and let the other help to provide the means, wherewith to supply the necessities of life? We are not all Vanderbilts or Astors.

But whether it be “Yea” or “Nay,” woman is making her way in the world. She has been heard of as making rapid progress in law; and it was only a short while ago we read of a young lady being admitted to practice in Pennsylvania. We have doctors without number; one of our Western towns boasts of a woman for Mayor, and they have aspired to the Presidency. Much has been said of woman’s sphere, but she knows her own place in life, and if given a little help in the various directions necessary to reach the place, she will win, and has won for herself respect and admiration for her courage and independence.

But this is not a Woman’s Rights Meeting, nor a sewing circle, in which the minister has been invited to tea, and where we are making the poor luckless man suffer for his sex in general, but the Graduation Exercises of a band of girls who have worked hard for success, and gained it.

A society of men organized many years ago, instead of sitting with folded hands lamenting their inability to dispose of “our girls,” went to work and established a class; placed at its head one of the best of teachers, and called it the Stenographic and Typewriting Class of the General Society of Mechanics and Tradesmen. “Now,” they said, “we have opened a way, let us see what the girls can do for and with themselves.”

In the Fall of 1886 the first class was formed, and since then more than 100 girls owe their present advantages to this noble institution.

The Class of ’90 graduating from here to-night met for the first lesson on October 1st of last year.

Of our troubles and disappointments, it is not for me to tell, but we have bravely toiled on, and have at last reached the end we have so eagerly and anxiously looked forward to, and the feeling that we have learned something which will help us in more ways than we at present fully realize, repays us for our perseverance.

To-night we graduate from this school into one compared to which the trials and disappointments of this course will seem trifles. We go forth to battle with the world, and if we do not keep up with it, it will mercilessly leave us far behind. But the Class of ’90 is not going to be laggard. Indeed we hope that when we graduate from that higher and more exacting school, it will be with the same satisfactory results with which we leave here, and, like Longfellow’s “Great Men,” we may leave

There are several benevolent institutions in this city where Stenography and Typewriting are taught during the day, without expense to the student. But the girls that need this instruction most are the working girls, who have only the evenings to themselves, and cannot afford to take the time to study that which they know would be beneficial to them. But the General Society of Mechanics and Tradesmen have recognized their wants, and every girl in this class has acknowledged that when in the future she has reached that zenith to which every one aspires, “Prosperity in her chosen calling,” she cannot forget that it was through this Society she was enabled to reach that height.

And now, dear Friends and Patrons of this school, I, in the name of my classmates, bid a cordial “welcome” to you all, confident that you who have sympathized with us during the past eight months will rejoice with us in our success.

Class Poem