In 1858 I received the degree of D. S. from the Lawrence

The words “In 1858 I received the degree of D.S. from the Lawrence Scientific School, and thereafter remained on the rolls of the university as a resident graduate” by Simon Newcomb may seem at first like a plain record of achievement. Yet within their simplicity lies the quiet dignity of a life devoted to the pursuit of knowledge — a life shaped not by sudden glory, but by patient endurance and disciplined curiosity. For Newcomb, one of the great astronomers and mathematicians of the nineteenth century, education was not a ladder to status, but a lifelong pilgrimage toward understanding. His statement, measured and humble, captures the essence of scientific spirit: that true mastery begins not at the moment of graduation, but in the decision to keep learning even after the diploma has been earned.

Simon Newcomb was born in rural Nova Scotia, far from the centers of learning and privilege. His journey to the Lawrence Scientific School of Harvard University was itself a miracle of perseverance. In a time when opportunity was scarce and education costly, he worked as a schoolteacher, a tutor, and even a wandering apprentice to earn his way. When he finally stood among scholars in 1858, receiving his degree, he had not simply completed a course of study — he had crossed a threshold between obscurity and destiny. Yet notice how he describes the moment without grandeur or flourish. “I received the degree,” he says, as if noting the turning of a season. His true pride lay not in the honor itself, but in remaining a student of the universe — “on the rolls of the university as a resident graduate.” This is the soul of wisdom: to remain a learner forever.

In the style of the ancients, we might say Newcomb’s words echo the teachings of Aristotle, who declared that philosophy begins in wonder. The wise do not seek completion, for they know that knowledge has no end. To remain “on the rolls” is to remain bound to inquiry, loyal to the search for truth. Newcomb went on to chart the movements of planets, refine astronomical constants, and correct the tables by which nations navigated the seas. Yet his greatest legacy was his attitude — the unyielding humility of one who sees himself always as a student before the vastness of creation.

History abounds with such souls. Leonardo da Vinci, though celebrated as a master of art and science, signed many of his notebooks as “Discepolo della esperienza” — “student of experience.” Like Newcomb, Leonardo knew that greatness is not a title, but a posture — the stance of one forever learning, forever reaching beyond the known. So too did Marie Curie, who, even after winning two Nobel Prizes, continued her research under harsh conditions, saying, “I am one of those who think that science has great beauty.” Such spirits remind us that true education is not a race to be finished, but a devotion to be lived.

When Newcomb remained at Harvard as a “resident graduate,” he was not chasing prestige; he was deepening his roots in the soil of scholarship. His continued presence symbolized a commitment to growth, a recognition that wisdom demands both solitude and perseverance. In a world that often celebrates the moment of arrival — the degree, the title, the applause — Newcomb’s quiet humility teaches us that arrival is but the beginning of another journey.

Dear listener, remember this: a degree is not the crown of learning, but its key. Graduation is not the end of education; it is the start of self-education. Whether you stand in the halls of science, the fields of art, or the markets of trade, carry Newcomb’s lesson within you — that one must remain a “resident graduate” in spirit, forever enrolled in the grand university of life. The wise do not retire from study; they refine it, season it, and pass it on to others.

The lesson is eternal: Stay teachable. Do not let success harden your curiosity, nor let titles dull your thirst for truth. The universe is vast, and the human mind, though small, becomes infinite when it continues to seek. Be like Simon Newcomb — humble before the stars, tireless in pursuit, and faithful to the belief that the mind, when disciplined and devoted, becomes a vessel for the eternal light of understanding.