Such are the men in charge of the Stanford millions. David Starr Jordan has retired, and the great university is governed from the cozy arm-chairs of the Pacific Union Club of San Francisco. As president they have appointed a physician, Dr. Wilbur, who learned the Goose-step at two of the Kaiser’s universities. He aspires to be, like Colonel Barrows, “a man on horseback.” In the days before America entered the war some of the students of Stanford were taking military training, and I am informed by one who was present at the graduating ceremonies that President Wilbur shook hands with all those who were in uniform, and refused to shake hands with those who were not in uniform. More recently, at an alumni reunion, he gave a curious proof of the abject condition of spirit to which the lackeys of the plutocracy have come. He was describing how he went to the dock in New York to welcome Herbert Hoover home from abroad; said President Wilbur: “I saw one of America’s biggest bankers throw his arms around him, and I said to myself: ‘At last Stanford has arrived’!” The gentleman who tells me of this incident, a scholar and a scientist, reports: “He said it in sweet unconsciousness, and at least half a dozen of my friends turned in my direction and gave me appreciative glances.” Stanford was founded for the purpose of giving the young people of California a free education; that was the basis of its democratic spirit—but the interlocking trustees have now decided to exclude all those common people who cannot pay two hundred and twenty-five dollars a year. So the tone of the place is rapidly altering, and on my recent visit one member of the senior class remarked to me, “I have seen such a change in my four years that I’m glad I’m through.” Two years ago a group of the students wished to start a liberal club for free discussion. A Chinese student writes me what happened, and I quote from his letter, leaving his quaint English as it stands, because the fine spirit of the writer shines through it so very clearly. Then we received discouraging advices from outsiders, principally from faculty members. None was willing to encourage us of such study. Occasionally individuals received discourtesy from their society, because of being connected to this movement. For instance, I was dismissed from a position soon after I was found out that I was “an ardent student of Socialism.” Another illustration, I was short in finance once. Went to see the Dean of Man to ask for a loan from the university. Was at first refused this request because I was reported to that office being “socialistic in belief.” Shortly after, a great majority of us left Stanford on account of their graduation, the movement died down gradually.