The standard bearer has fallen, but his colors still lead us on. Having met together to express our sense of a common loss in the death of that great American, Theodore Roosevelt, we pledge ourselves anew to the service of the country he so greatly served and so deeply loved. Thankful for his life, we are thankful for the manner of his death that seems as a reward for his great service, coming painlessly while he slept; He giveth his beloved sleep. While sorrowing for our lost leader, we know that his dearest wish would be that instead of wasting ourselves in vain lamentations for his death, we should gird ourselves anew to fight the good fight with all the strength that is in us, and show our sense of his loss by the added impetus for good in our lives gained from his high example. I move that this resolution be adopted as an expression of the feeling of this meeting and a copy thereof be sent to Mrs. Roosevelt. One of the miracles of the World War was the way in which all manner of institutions, factories, plants of every kind were transformed from their original purpose to meet the needs of the hour. There never was a more striking exhibition of American genius than the Protean changes that all sorts and kinds of institutions underwent. In Rhode Island, Brown University, like Harvard, became a training school for reservists, our famous jewelry factories were turned into munition plants, and so we were only doing what every other sort of institution was doing, when we transformed the Art Association from a purely cultural æsthetic institution, into a live patriotic nerve center. Every Sunday afternoon and every holiday during the war, and while the large number of reservists and enlisted men remained in Newport after the war, the Art Association kept open house for the soldiers and sailors. We found among the reservists many high-grade professional musicians. One of the best features of our Sunday afternoons was that they gave these men the opportunity to practice the art they had perforce laid down for the time of their service. Among the performers were several artists of great talent, pianists, violinists, ’cellists, and singers. To these men the opportunity of expressing themselves in their own calling, was life saving. A group of our members got together and bought a Steinway piano for these artists. I shall never forget the face of a certain pianist who, after six days of hard manual labor, stretched his fingers for the first time over the keyboard of our Steinway.