"Still what?" said Regan, as Dink hesitated.
"Still, he has made me think," he admitted grudgingly. "I wish he didn't quite—quite get on my nerves so."
"There's a great deal in what he said to-night," said Pike meditatively; "a great deal. Of course, he is always looking at things from the standpoint of the individual; still, just the same—"
"Brocky always states only one side of the proposition," said Brown, who rarely measured swords when Brockhurst was present in the flesh. "He takes for granted his premise, and argues for a conclusion that must follow."
"Well, what's your premise, Brown?" said Stover hopefully, for he wanted to be convinced.
"This is my premise," said Brown fluently. "The country has changed, the function of a college has changed. It is now the problem of educating masses and not individuals. To-day it is a question of perfecting a high average. That's what happens everywhere in college: we all tend toward the average; what some lose others gain. We go out, not as individuals, but as a type—a Yale type, Harvard type, Princeton type, five hundred strong, proportionately more powerful in our influence on the country."
"Just what does our type take from here to the nation?" said Stover; and then he was surprised that he had asked the question that was vital.
"What? What does this type stand for? I'll tell you," said Brown readily, with the debater's trick of repeating the question to gain time. "First, a pretty fine type of gentleman, with good, clear, honest standards; second, a spirit of ambition and a determination not to be beaten; third, the belief in democracy."
"All of which means," said Regan, "that we are simply schools for character."
"Well, why not?" said Pike. "Isn't that a pretty big thing?"