be found there, but ready to sacrifice themselves for possible human betterment. Intellectual soldiers, we may call them, accepting the risks of doubtful battle. Theirs is a lofty altruism, and none the less because success may bring them fame and fortune. Perhaps I strain the word justice in applying it to them, yet they as truly as the professional man do not pick out individuals as receivers of their benefits. Indeed, that absence of particularity so emphasized in justice goes to such a degree with them that their work seems to proceed from the spirit of science or spirit of beauty rather than from a particular person. They strike us as transcending their age, their own peculiarities, and to embody the conjunct self of humanity. Still another form of justice, or of love, which passes beyond the individual, is the service of institutions. Artists, scientific and professional men all follow interests of their own, believing, however, that their work in the long run will benefit the public. But in the service of institutions not only does the public receive a benefit, it fixes also what our work toward bringing it about shall be. Personal choice, therefore, altogether disappears. The action is conjunctive throughout. But to understand this dark saying we must bring clearly before our minds what an institution is. It is a large term which we are apt to allow to fill out a big gap in our knowledge. I mean by institutions those fairly permanent relations between persons which past experience has established for the promotion of human welfare and successive generations have approved. Ever since civilization began men have been experimenting how to live together most helpfully. The results, tested by the induction of ages, become the inherited habits of individuals and the institutions of society. Maintained through passing years, criticised, readjusted to meet more fully the needs they were intended to fulfil, they furnish each of us a working capital as soon as we enter the world. We are not obliged to decide in childhood whether to have three meals a day, whether man’s dress shall differ from woman’s, whether to have provision made for our instruction, worship, settlement of quarrels, safety on the street. These matters were considered before we were born, and judgments about them form our most precious inheritance. It is a veritable bank stock of experience on which to draw for our support. We accept it all as a thing of course at first, then begin to scrutinize it, asking how far these particular institutions save social friction, open avenues for enlarged activity, and how far that which once served these ends serves them no more.