of every kind, the resources of our nation, in fact, would be diverted and kept at home. The hot-bloods clamor for war, but not the long-headed,--or so it seems. Italy would never have attained her freedom and the unification could never have come about, if England had not stood solidly and quietly behind her, the great friend and helper of the liberals. To-day we stand much in the same attitude as the England of that time, and we must fulfill the rôle as best we can. In a little more than four years after its founding, the Art Association had already outgrown the little Hunt studio and, thanks to the group of powerful men and women who had become interested in building up the new association, we secured for its home the fine estate, formerly belonging to Mr. John N. A. Griswold, on the corner of Bellevue Avenue and Touro Park. It was with something of a heartache that we gave up that modest first home of ours, for the larger dwelling with the greater possibilities of service. One of the last general gatherings in the Hunt studio was a New Year’s reception. January 1, 1916. To the Art Association for the New Year’s reception and musicale. Lydia Hughes (Dudley Foulkes’ daughter) sang charmingly. My brief speech was all about our new home, the Griswold house. I recalled the story of Apollo coming to Delphi to establish his temple, and how the god, finding no people to serve him, compelled some sailors who were passing in a boat to come on shore and act as his servants. I then sketched the wonderful influence of the Delphic oracle through many centuries; spoke of the part played in history of civilization by the temple, the oracle, and the priests, and likened ourselves, the pioneers of the new temple of the Arts, to those sailors compelled by the god to serve him,--the servants of Apollo! When we were youngsters we played a game in which one child, placing a closed fist on the palm of another, whispered: “Hold fast what I give you.” From the moment war was declared and I realized that all I held dear and sacred was in danger of being wiped out, I was haunted by those words. If our civilization is to survive, the two main factors of its salvation must be religion and art. Those of us who worked for the young Art Association were a small band, holding an outpost of civilization against the forces of anarchy and materialism. Because the garrison was small and hard pressed, the fight was worth while. In the great cities were thousands far better equipped to carry on the forlorn hope; here in the small community, where for so long my people had lived and labored, I saw my chance to “hold fast.”