He was a philosopher who said, "The proper study of mankind is man."

We spend our lives in study and research in chemistry, physics, astronomy, literature, biology, history, psychology, —what not?

We chase the energy of elusive wave motion; measure and analyze distant suns. We judge the philosophical ideas of Kant; corral hormones; weigh the actions of the third estate; pry open the recesses of the subconscious mind; plan new assaults upon pathogenic organisms; build models of the atom; and try to figure some means of slipping a monkey-wrench into its mechanism.

We recognize no limits to possible knowledge. We acknowledge the existence of no durable secrets.  No seeming ultimatum of nature restrains our efforts. We will to do, and fail, —and yet again we will. Success alone can satisfy us, and even with that comes not relaxation from effort, but a redirection of our energies.

In this man is unquenchable.

Are these researches laudable? Are these ends desirable? Are these subjects worthy of such great effort? Are these vast expenditures of time, energy and substance warranted?

The answer lies around us. Philosophy and literature,—science, art and industrv, economics and social bases,—all prosper and advance because of our fiery zeal for new knowledge.

Now our question:  Then how much more worthy of attention is man himself,—he who reads, measures, ponders, delves, labors; he who thinks! Man, the inventor; man, the teacher; man, the organizer; man, the explorer; man, the philosopher; man, the artist; man, the creator. What more inspiring subject for study can exist than man with his multiplicity of variables, with his modicum of even the attributes of God, Himself!

And now, by using the commonplace, I shall risk an anticlimax. I almost hear you quote, "As he rose like a rocket, lie fell like a stick." For I am not about to pencil an appeal for research foundations in philosophy, history, sociology, psychology, religion. Let others present the claims of such, and let me con-sciously restrict myself to homely concepts.  I am impressed with the idea of the need that each one of us has properly to orient himself to his neighbors. My thesis is this: We have unending opportunity to study men about us, and thus to learn how best to live and labor with them. We may learn both by example and by contrast. What to do, and what not to do constitute pretty much the whole life. How to do it and how not to do it, therefore, rank of first importance. We are very keen and critical judges of the acts of other folk. We could not, if we would, disengage ourselves and adjudge our own actions equally sagaciously. Our most successful evaluations of ourselves come to us by way of comparisons which we make of ourselves with our associates and acquaintances.

"Now, there is Abner. He is the quickest and clearest headed man in my Math class. If he doesn't get it, nobody does. I'm about seventy-five per cent compared to his one hundred."

"Perky never succeeds in making a statement that doesn't have to be explained at length, before I know what he means. I could do it in half the words."

"How does Si get along so well with everybody? Even old Sourdrops grins at him once a week! I couldn't get that recognition in a thousand years!”

"Well, well! Who supposed that little Dwarfie could pull one on the bunch like that! He certainly has a head for organization or we never could have got a workable plan for the club."
"Did you see Pirn iron out that clash between Rod and Dor? He got them both to see that a bit of tolerance without forfeiture of standards makes all the difference in the world when it comes to having peace."

"Do you know, Bally is a thief, and a foolish one at that. He steals what be cannot use, and puts it in place of what he could use. He copies my ideas from my papers, instead of building ideas of his own. When he hands in his paper, he has nothing left."

Ad lib.

I enjoy my work with young men. I like to observe them, analyze them, help them to see themselves. I like to set difficult tasks for them and see them come through. One such, which is a test of tenacity and a revelation of character and acumen is this:  Pick out the meanest, grouchiest, most biased person you know, and set for yourself the task of establishing friendly relations with him. Do not do it by fawning, dishonest acts or expressions. Look for common interests. Study him. Build up an actual interest in something in which he is concerned. Overlook his faults and his limitations. Don't try to make him over, or to compel him to come to your ways of thinking. Give him the greatest credit for honesty of opinions, although you do consider them biased or wrong. Don't argue. Don't exhibit distrust, or impatience, or intolerance. Don't deny your own standards. Don't lower or hide them. You'll be surprised by the results.

You know, "There's so much good in the worst of us, and so much bad in the best of us, that it behooves ....."  Well, you finish it.

Study men. It's great sport. You have a world full of interesting specimens, no. two of whom are alike. And then you may still study men of long ago, in their biographies.

But that is another story, and before we begin to Wander, I point you back to your immediate neighbor. Study him. He is well worth it. And perhaps at the same time, he is studying you'