upon a given rate brought before it, just as the Supreme Court passes upon a given question of law brought before it; and one will prove to be as feasible as the other has proved feasible. That system should be, and in my judgment will be introduced. I believe it will work a measurable betterment for the public. Listen to what I say—a measurable betterment for the public. I do not believe that it will produce the millennium, or anything approaching it; and I am quite certain that some of its most ardent advocates will be disappointed with the results. But I think measurable good will come. It can only come if the officers intrusted with the administration of the law remember that it is exactly as much their duty to protect the railroad from the public as to protect the public from the railroad; to remember that when we say we want justice from the railroad we must, if we are honest, add also a pledge to do justice to the railroad. AT HARVARD UNIVERSITY, JUNE 28, 1905 THE HARVARD SPIRIT _Bishop Lawrence, Brothers, Men of Harvard_: We have just heard from a Harvard man speaking in behalf of the class of ’55. I now speak to you in behalf of the class of ’80. Mr. Choate, you can afford to be generous. A man whose life has been passed in public service such as yours can freely praise those who come after him. I speak in behalf of the younger men here present when I say that we shall count ourselves more than happy if in the future we can approach the service of the men of Harvard in the past. I trust that if any great crisis come again—may Heaven forbid its coming—if ever a great crisis like that of ’61 should come, may the men of that day who have been brought up in Harvard rise level to it as you of the years from ’55 onward rose level to meet the crisis of your day. We heard from Mr. Agassiz what the class of his day did, how many of them went into the Union Army, how some of them went into the gallant Confederate Army, one of the members of which, the great justice from Louisiana, Mr. Justice White, has to-day become an adopted son of Harvard. In Kentucky, a number of years ago, I had a good friend, a man much older than I was, Colonel John Mason Brown. He came back from a trip to the Rocky Mountains just after Sumter had been fired on. His mother brought him the sword that his father had worn with honor in the Mexican War, and said to him, “My son, war has come, and you must draw this sword; I hope you will draw it for the flag under which your father fought; but draw it for one side or the other you must.” We Americans of to-day have the right to feel the same pride in the valor, the devotion, the fealty to the right as it was given them to see the right, of those who wore the gray no less than of those who wore the blue.