COPYRIGHT DEPOSrc 
 
REPORT OF THE CELEBRATION OF 
 THE TWENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY 
 CLASS OF 1884, HARVARD COLLEGE 
 
CLASS OF 1884 
 
 HARVARD COLLEGE 
 
 REPORT OF TWENTY-FIFTH 
 ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION 
 
 SUPPLEMENT TO 
 REPORT VII, OCTOBER, 1909 
 
 CAMBRIDGE • Pi2/A^r£i) FOR THE 
 CLJSS ■ THE UNIVERSITY PRESS 
 
V^^fet^^ 
 
 Clasifi! 0Uiuvi 
 
 Elected November 12, 1S83 
 
 Class Committee 
 
 SAMUEL ATKINS ELIOT, Chairman 
 (Resigned June 24, 1903) 
 
 WILLIAM AMORY GARDNER 
 
 HOLLIS WEBSTER 
 
 Class Secretary 
 
 EDWARD ANDRESS HIBBARD 
 (Died January 16, 1906) 
 
 Class Committee 
 
 GORDON ABBOTT 
 
 (Elected June 24, 1903) 
 
 WILLIAM AMORY GARDNER 
 HOLLIS V/EBSTER 
 
 Class Secretary 
 
 THOMAS KITTREDGE CUMMINS 
 (Elected June 27, 1906) 
 
 ©CI,A251605 
 
 Copyright, igog. 
 By Thomas K. Cummins, Secretary 
 
REPORT OF THE CELEBRATION OF THE 
 
 TWENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY, CLASS 
 
 OF 1884, HARVARD COLLEGE 
 
 Commencement Day, Wednesday, June 30, 1909, marked 
 the twenty-fifth anniversary of graduation of the Class of 
 1884, and the event was commemorated by a celebration 
 extending over a period of four days in accordance with 
 plans formulated by the Class Committee. 
 
 By vote of the Class passed at the meeting on June 26, 
 1907, the Class Committee was authorized to add to its 
 number other members of the Class to assist in planning for 
 the celebration of the anniversary. In accordance therewith 
 the Committee appointed for this purpose Baylies, R. G 
 Brown, Clapp, C. T. Davis, Eliot, Frothingham, F. Hamlin, 
 Osborne, and Sexton. The Committee thus enlarged was 
 called together several times by Abbott, the Chairman, some 
 of the members coming from long distances to attend, and 
 they lent their cordial interest and assistance to the perfecting 
 of the arrangement of the different events decided upon. 
 
 Although the first formal event was scheduled for Sun- 
 day, June 27, the members began to assemble during the 
 preceding week, attracted by the Harvard-Yale baseball 
 game which took place on Thursday, June 24. Forty men 
 attended the game in a body. The game resulted in a victory 
 for Harvard by a score of three to two, making an auspicious 
 opening of our celebration. 
 
 On the following day. Class Day, fifty men assembled in 
 the yard and marched in the procession of the classes to the 
 stadium, where the usual exercises were held. 
 
 On Saturday, June 26, a suite of rooms at the Hotel Ven- 
 dome on Commonwealth Avenue was opened as a place of 
 1 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '84- 
 
 assembly for the Class and remained open through the fol- 
 lowing Wednesday. Practically every member of the Class 
 attending the celebration registered there at one time or 
 another during the period. 
 
 The first formal meeting of the Class took place on Sun- 
 day, June 27, when services were held in Appleton Chapel, 
 Cambridge, which were attended by about one hundred mem- 
 bers and also by a number of the wives and children of the 
 members. The services were arranged by S. A. Eliot and 
 were conducted by him and by C. T. Billings, E. S. Drown, 
 B. B. Ramage, and J. B. Wilson. P. H. Goepp rendered 
 the music of the hymns and other selections on the organ. • 
 E. S. Drown preached the sermon as follows : 
 
 Look unto the rock whence ye were hewn, and to the hole of the pit whence 
 ye were digged. — Isaiah 51.1. 
 
 We believe in democracy. As Americans we are engaged 
 in the great experiment of trying to bring democracy to a 
 full realization. America is the one place where the issue 
 is perfectly clear, where the combat is being fought to es- 
 tablish government not from above but from below. 
 
 There are great difficulties in that combat. Government 
 through democracy is a hard thing. Our cities are not 
 nearly so well governed as those of Europe. Tlie contrast 
 is often made between our national graft and corruption 
 and the supposed integrity of the government of Japan. 
 The reason is clear. Japan has not yet known a true de- 
 mocracy. She has inherited a feudal system, with all its 
 splendid spirit of obedience and loyalty. And with marvel- 
 lous skill she has superinduced on that feudalism the at- 
 tainments of the modern world. But she has not learned 
 democracy, she has not grasped the value of the individual. 
 Her struggle is still before her. The most recent news 
 indicates that she is at the beginning of the problems that 
 we have been concerned with for a century. 
 
 We start with no such advantage, or disadvantage, as 
 do Europe and Japan. We begin with the individual, the 
 rights of every man. We are constructing a State such as 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '84 
 
 has never before been known in history. Everywhere else 
 government from above is passing into government from 
 below. In America alone does government start from the 
 people themselves. We are building a true democracy, a 
 government of the people, for the people, by the people, and 
 we are deeply resolved that it shall not perish from the 
 earth. 
 
 Thus we believe in democracy, heart and soul. And we 
 believe in it because we are idealists, because we are men 
 of faith and vision. That faith and vision grow stronger 
 and clearer as we grow older. I came across, some years 
 ago, a forensic that I wrote in college on the limitations of 
 suffrage. It made me ashamed, it was so academic and 
 pessimistic, and so without the vision. If any of us now 
 believe in a limitation of suffrage, it is not as a finality. It 
 is only as a means through which the larger ideal of the 
 State may be attained. In its ultimate essence democracy 
 is our goal, something to believe in, to work for, to live 
 for, and, if need be, to die for. 
 
 In such a belief in democracy there are two elements. 
 One is belief in the value of the individual and the other 
 is belief in the value of the State. Democracy stands for 
 belief in the absolute value of each individual, and it stands 
 no less for belief in the State, in which alone the individual 
 finds the guarantee of his true self. 
 
 The value of the individual, — it is on that that all true 
 civilization depends. To view humanity in the mass is bar- 
 barism. To appreciate the value of the individual, every 
 individual, is civilization. That discovery of the individual 
 has been the moving power of modern history. It destroyed 
 the slave-trade, it overcame slavery, it lies at the basis of 
 our modern sensitiveness to suffering, and our modern de- 
 mand that every man shall have the square deal. All that 
 goes to make up the best of our modern life, of our modern 
 social demands, depends on that sense of individual value. Its 
 growth was one great characteristic of the nineteenth cen- 
 tury. It overthrew the belief in hell hereafter, and it voiced 
 the insistent demand that hell on earth shall be destroyed. 
 3 
 
Twenty --fifth Anniversary, Class of '84- 
 
 And democracy is the expression of that belief, of the de- 
 mand that the individual shall come to his full rights, and 
 shall play his full part in the life of the community. 
 
 But what is it that gives this value to the individual? It 
 is to be found only in relation to the organic life of which 
 he is a part. The individual reaches his value only as a 
 member of an organism. What is the difference between 
 a mere heap and an organism, between a pile of stones and 
 a steam engine? The difference lies both in the organic 
 unity of the whole and in the value of each individual part. 
 One stone of the pile is worth one stone, no more. Take 
 it away, and the pile is practically the same, simply one 
 stone less. But one integral part of the steam engine is 
 of equal value with the whole. Take it away and the whole 
 stops running. In a heap of one thousand parts each part 
 is worth only one one-thousandth of the whole. In an or- 
 ganism of one thousand parts each part has the value of 
 the whole within itself. In our nation each man is not 
 simply one eighty-millionth of the whole. Each citizen rep- 
 resents the nation. He is an integral part of it. The pro- 
 tection of every individual is necessary to the self-preserva- 
 tion of the state. If war is ever justifiable it is justifiable in 
 the defence of the violated rights of one citizen. For the 
 democratic state to abandon the rights of one citizen is to 
 commit national suicide. Only in the State, in organic 
 society, does individuality come to its full value. 
 
 Individuality is not individualism. They are deadly foes. 
 The mere individualist isolating himself from social relations 
 loses his own value. The individualism of Lord Dundreary's 
 bird is fatal alike to his own value and to the value of the 
 flock. 
 
 This relation between the value of the individual and that 
 of the community can be seen in all history. The individual 
 finds himself in and through organic relations, in the family 
 and in the nation. Medisevalism in disregarding the family 
 and in subordinating the nation to a mere empire, produced 
 a society as inorganic as a heap of stones. And the result 
 was a period of gross individualism, and at the same time of 
 4 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '84- 
 
 the loss of individual value. Every man was looked on as 
 separate from his neighbor. The only salvation was an es- 
 cape from an individualistic hell. Few men felt that to save 
 themselves they must save their brothers also, they must be 
 members of a saved society, of an actual kingdom of God 
 manifesting itself in the social life of the world. 
 
 The Reformation has been called the discovery of the indi- 
 vidual. It was that. In Luther's insistence on justification 
 by faith every man stood face to face with God. The indi- 
 vidual conscience was discovered, a conscience that could not 
 be put to sleep by reliance on any church or priest. Every 
 man became a priest of God, on every man was set the seal 
 of the eternal. In that discovery of the individual began the 
 modern world. 
 
 But we sometimes forget that the Reformation was also 
 the rediscovery of the family and of the state. It was the 
 rediscovery of the family; henceforth the highest life of 
 man was to be found not in celibacy, not in the cloister or 
 the cell, but in the sacred relationships of family life. And 
 the Reformation was the birth of the modern state. Na- 
 tional life began. The empire was overthrown. The tem- 
 poral dominance of the church was destroyed. The modern 
 world began in that rebirth of the family and of the state, 
 and through them in the new birth of the individual man. 
 
 Thus the two elements that make up democracy stand or 
 fall together. Belief in the individual and in the nation are 
 not two things. They are opposite sides of the same thing. 
 The democracy for which we live and for which we would 
 die depends on the value of the individual and on the value 
 of the nation in which alone the individual comes to the full 
 realization of himself. 
 
 Now, whence come these elements? What is the source 
 of that belief in the value of the individual and in the value 
 of the social organism ? For any complex result it is difficult 
 to assign any single cause. Yet it is often easy to find one 
 cause which is essential, and without which the result would 
 not have come to pass. Such a cause, essential in its contri- 
 bution, and without which the result cannot be explained, is 
 B 
 
Twenty --fifth Anniversary, Class of '84 
 
 religion. I ask you to consider the contribution of religion 
 to democracy. We believe in democracy because we are ideal- 
 ists, because we are men of faith and vision. And the forces 
 that have produced our idealism, our vision and our faith, 
 are religious forces. Idealism and faith are in themselves 
 religious. And the idealism and the faith that have pro- 
 duced our country's life are Christian idealism and Christian 
 faith. Leave out of democracy that faith in God and in man 
 that came into the world through Jesus Christ, and you leave 
 out an essential part of the foundation, you leave out ele- 
 ments without which our modern democracy would not exist 
 to-day. Let us look to the rock whence we were hewn, and 
 to the hole of the pit whence we were digged. 
 
 Let us look then at the contribution of religion and espe- 
 cially of Christianity to these elements of democratic faith. 
 Religion is often considered as a purely individual matter. 
 And certainly religion does set the seal on the value of the 
 individual. It brings every man into touch with the unseen. 
 Religion looks at every man sub specie aeternitatis. It puts 
 on him the stamp of the eternal. Above all is this true of 
 the Christian concept of man. Christianity sees in every man 
 the divine sonship, the image of God. Marred, defaced, im- 
 perfectly realized though that sonship be, yet it is there and 
 it is eternal. Christian belief sees in every man the brother 
 of the Christ, the very son of God. It voices in the accents 
 of religion that belief to which Kant gave ethical expression 
 that we must see in every man an end in himself, and not 
 simply a means. 
 
 If we ask as to the origin of our present belief in the value 
 of the individual there can be but one answer. It is a Chris- 
 tian belief. It exists in the world only where there has been 
 the influence of Christian forces. Our horror that any man 
 should be a mere slave, either in name or by actual social 
 conditions, the conviction that the pain and suffering of any 
 man cannot be counterbalanced by the advantages that some 
 one else shall gain by that pain and suffering, — all such de- 
 mands that are woven into the warp and woof of our highest 
 social beliefs are Christian demands. They voice the su- 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '84 
 
 preme emphasis put on the individual, that every man shall 
 be an end in himself and not simply a means. You remem- 
 ber the poem, " The Philosopher's Scales " ? Tlie philoso- 
 pher had constructed scales that would weigh things at their 
 true value, and after various experiments, 
 
 "At last he bowled in the whole world at one grate, 
 With the soul of a beggar to serve as a weight ; 
 When the world rose aloft with so mighty rebuff 
 It made a great hole, and escaped through the roof; 
 While the scale with the soul in it so mightily fell 
 That it jerked the philosopher out of his cell." 
 
 That is the fate of every philosopher who puts the whole 
 world against a human soul. In every individual we see the 
 value of the eternal, the presence of the Lord's anointed. 
 " Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these 
 my brethren, ye have done it unto me." 
 
 It is perfectly clear that to-day we must choose between 
 that belief and the belief that reduces the individual to a 
 mere thing and that glorifies the power of strength alone. 
 The philosophy of Friedrich Nietzsche is most significant. 
 Nietzsche holds that only the strong is to be respected, that 
 Christian morality in its defence of the weak was the great 
 step backward in human history, that democracy is deserving 
 only of contempt. The choice is between the superman of 
 Nietzsche and the universal divine sonship revealed in Jesus, 
 on which alone democracy can rest. It is to the principle of 
 Jesus that democracy is due, and by it alone can it endure. 
 It is a matter of faith, and that faith is Christian faith. It 
 is the belief in man because in every man is found the son- 
 ship of the eternal Father. " Look unto the rock whence ye 
 were hewn, and to the hole of the pit whence ye were 
 digged." You who believe in democracy owe that belief to 
 a civilization that is founded upon Christ. 
 
 Thus religion puts its seal on the value of the individual. 
 And yet religion is not merely an individual matter. In- 
 deed, it is not first an individual matter. As a fact religion 
 began as a social matter. In primitive religion it is not the 
 7 
 
Twenty -fifth, Anniversary, Class of '84. 
 
 individual that offers worship, it is the tribe, the family, the 
 clan, the community. And as the community developed, 
 religion became a social force uniting men by a common 
 bond. Men felt that they were united to each other because 
 they were united to a common god. That belief was often 
 materialistic and superstitious. But, crude and superstitious, 
 it was a social matter, uniting men into moral groups because 
 worshippers of a common god. 
 
 So it is in the higher forms of religion. The religion of 
 Israel was the religion of a common social bond, uniting men 
 by their allegiance to the Lord. Mohammedanism to-day 
 conceives of the followers of the prophet as fonning one 
 family on earth. Religion has everywhere been a social bond, 
 uniting men as members of a common life. 
 
 Now all this reaches its highest form in Christianity. 
 We have seen that Christianity supremely exalts the value of 
 the individual. But the first word of Christian teaching is 
 not the individual. The preaching of Jesus began with the 
 Kingdom of God. It is a social concept. It is the belief in 
 an ideal society ruled by the divine will and manifesting the 
 divine law of righteousness and love. The primal element 
 of Christian belief is that of a society on earth wherein men 
 are bound together by bonds of love as the children of a 
 common Father. 
 
 The religion of Jesus brings the individual to his full 
 realization and his full worth. Christianity alone exalts the 
 value of every individual man. But it does so because it 
 conceives him as a member of a social organism. An indi- 
 vidualistic Christianity is a contradiction in terms. The 
 Christian must know that if he is to maintain the full value 
 of his own self as the child of God, it must be because he is 
 a member of a moral community, of a society that itself rests 
 on a divine foundation. 
 
 But those are the principles of democracy. Democracy 
 rests on belief in the individual and on belief in the social 
 organism in which the individual comes to his full realiza- 
 tion. Democracy rests on faith, on faith in the sanctity of 
 the individual and in the sanctity of the social life. 
 8 
 
Twenty --fifth Anniversary, Class of '84- 
 
 It is religious belief that maintains the sanctity of the 
 democratic nation. Take out of it the Christian forces that 
 lie beneath our social structure, and you take out of it the 
 beliefs that support democracy to-day. If we neglect the 
 message of Christian idealism we forget the forces that have 
 made our democracy. The value of the individual man, 
 the social structure in which that individual man finds his 
 being, are Christian products. The democracy for which we 
 live is the result of faith in the unseen, in the unseen divinity 
 of every child of God, in the unseen foundations on which 
 a true society is built. " Look unto the rock whence ye were 
 hewn, and to the hole of the pit whence ye were digged." 
 
 If I have traced with any truth the sources of our demo- 
 cratic ideals, then there are two practical results that follow. 
 The first is that men who believe in democracy should use 
 their influence to support the religious forces that have made 
 democracy what it is. It is a surprising fact that so many 
 educated and patriotic men are indifferent to the Christian 
 forces that are doing the necessary work for our social life. 
 Let us not exaggerate the facts. The gulf between culture 
 and religion is nothing like what it has been from time 
 to time in the past, is in America nothing like what it is 
 to-day in Italy and France. Yet the situation is far from 
 what it might be and should be. We Americans believe in 
 democracy. There is great interest in social problems. 
 Nearly every one wishes to see righteousness prevail, to see 
 the individual come to his full rights, to see the community 
 established on foundations of justice and truth. The sur- 
 prising thing is that so many men who deeply feel these needs 
 do not see the bearing on them of the Christian principles. 
 What would happen to our society if those Christian forces 
 were withdrawn ? Every man with any insight knows some- 
 thing of the evils that would result. Why is it that so many 
 educated and patriotic men do not put their own shoulders 
 to the wheel ? The call is loud that all those who believe in 
 conserving the principles of our nation's life should do their 
 part in conserving the forces that render those principles 
 effective. 
 
 9 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '84 
 
 Of course it is easy to find fault with the Christian 
 churches, to declare that they lag behind social movements, 
 that they are antiquated in belief, that they lack a sense of 
 proportion, that they put theological or ecclesiastical shib- 
 boleths in the way of the coming of the Kingdom of God. 
 These charges may be true ; they are partly true. But where 
 lies the fault? Partly with the churches themselves. Partly 
 also with the men who stay outside the churches and deprive 
 them of the intellectual and moral power that they should 
 have. If men who deeply feel that the churches are not doing 
 their proper work would take hold and insist that they do, 
 who can imagine the change that would come over our whole 
 social life? 
 
 It should go without saying that I am pleading for no 
 narrow faith. I am not pleading that any man should accept 
 anything he does not believe, or that he should be untrue to 
 his convictions. I plead that he be thoroughly true to his 
 convictions. He is not asked to accept theories, he is asked 
 to start with facts. He is asked in a true scientific spirit to 
 look to the facts of our social and national life, and to ask 
 what are the causes from which those facts have sprung. 
 And then to give to those causes the attention and the support 
 that their importance demands. He is asked to look to the 
 rock whence he was hewn, to the hole of the pit whence he 
 was digged. If men to whom the ideal of democracy is a 
 sacred thing would be true to their own convictions, if they 
 would see that the heart of democracy lies in the democratic 
 religion of Jesus, and if they would give themselves as their 
 own conscience bids to the open, consistent, honest support of 
 those principles, how much nearer the Kingdom of God 
 would come to earth, how much more completely realized 
 would be the true democracy of all the children of God! 
 
 The other practical result is this, that those men who 
 believe in democracy should use their influence that the 
 religious forces that create democracy be made effective 
 in education. The democratic state must itself make this 
 demand. For its own preservation it must demand the con- 
 servation of those forces that go to form democracy. We 
 10 
 
Twenty --fifth Anniversary, Class of '8A 
 
 have seen that those forces are largely religious. Leave out 
 the religious forces that give value to the individual and to 
 the social organism in which the individual finds his full 
 realization, and we leave out the ideal convictions by which 
 alone the democratic state can be maintained. 
 
 Of course we have a vast store of democratic idealism 
 which is effective in maintaining our ideals. But can we 
 afford to neglect in education the cultivation of the causes 
 of that idealism? To do so is to depend on the acquire- 
 ments of the past instead of adding to those acquirements 
 a source of income for the future. To depend on that ac- 
 quired idealism and to neglect the forces from which it 
 came, is to live by drawing on our capital. And the result 
 is bankruptcy. You remember Mr. Micawber's wise saying: 
 " Annual income twenty pounds. Annual expenditure nine- 
 teen six, result happiness. Annual income twenty pounds, 
 annual expenditure twenty pounds, nought and six, result 
 misery." Are we living beyond our income? Are we draw- 
 ing on our capital ? Are we maintaining and developing the 
 religious forces on which democracy depends? 
 
 Of course I plead for no narrow or dogmatic training. 
 But I do plead for the conservation in the training of our 
 children of those positive religious forces which conserve 
 democracy. And this training is demanded not by the 
 churches alone but by the democratic state. How that train- 
 ing is to be given is a very difficult problem. The divided 
 condition of Christendom makes it at present almost im- 
 possible that it should be given by the state. How the prob- 
 lem will ultimately be solved, it is impossible to guess. Eng- 
 land and Germany are both engaged in attempts to solve it. 
 Their solutions cannot be ours. We must solve it for our- 
 selves. It may be that in time the needs of the child will 
 make older Christians ashamed of the trivialities that divide 
 • them, and that a genuine Christian unity will be demanded 
 and produced in order that the religious foundations of the 
 nation shall be made secure. Then will be brought to pass 
 the saying of the prophet, that a little child shall lead them. 
 
 In the meantime the responsibility rests not only on the 
 11 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '84 
 
 churches but on all patriotic Americans. The community 
 must take more seriously than it has done the problem of 
 religious education. The men who believe in democracy and 
 who believe in education will not permanently be content to 
 leave out of that education the religious forces by which 
 democracy must stand. It is curious that men who are Chris- 
 tians and patriots and who are zealous for the education of 
 their children, should so often be contented to leave out 
 of that education the religious element or to allow it to be 
 carried on in the most feeble and ineffective manner, a man- 
 ner that would everywhere excite derision in secular educa- 
 tion to-day. The problem of religious education must be 
 taken more seriously. It must be conducted on sound educa- 
 tional principles adapted to our modern needs. The interest, 
 the thought, the intelligence, the money of cultivated men 
 are needed to carry on a work that is demanded by the self- 
 preservation of the State. 
 
 I appeal to you, men of '84, as a Harvard man speaking 
 to Harvard men. Harvard stands for belief in individuality. 
 It believes that the highest culture means the development 
 of every individual to his best and truest self. But Harvard 
 does not stand for mere individualism, for a remoteness from 
 social life and social service. Its statesmen, its leaders, its 
 honored president for forty years, with his record of ser- 
 vice to the community, its new president with his devotion 
 to the study of government, its long list of names that con- 
 secrate the walls of Memorial Hall, — all these give the lie to 
 such a thought. Harvard stands for individuality wrought 
 out in the life of the nation. It stands for a democracy that 
 values alike the individual and the State. And it stands for 
 Truth, the Veritas that is blazoned on its shield. The men 
 who wrote on that shield " Veritas " and who wrote about 
 it the words " Christo et Ecclesiae," were not afraid where 
 truth would lead. If we Harvard men will look to the truth 
 of our nation's life, to the foundations of that democracy 
 for which we live as men of faith and vision, we will in no 
 narrow sense be led to Christ and to His Church. We will 
 recognize the Christian forces which have made us what we 
 12 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary , Class of '84 
 
 are, and we will give a glad allegiance to Him whose truth 
 has made us free. If we are true Harvard men we will be- 
 lieve in democracy. And with a single eye to truth we will 
 honestly and searchingly look for the foundations on which 
 that democracy is built. We will look unto the rock whence 
 we were hewn, to the hole of the pit whence we were digged. 
 
 At the end of the services special trolley cars were taken 
 to Eliot's house on Reservoir Street, Cambridge, where a re- 
 ception was given to members and their families by him and 
 Mrs. Eliot, in which Mr. and Mrs. N. C. Nash and Mr. and 
 Mrs. H. M. Spelman joined. This was the first occasion for 
 a long time on which a substantial number of the members 
 of the Class had assembled, being the only meeting of the 
 Class that had ever taken place attended also by the families 
 of members. The entertainment proved a very interesting 
 one and was most hospitably conducted by the hosts and 
 hostesses. 
 
 On Monday morning the Class went by special trolley cars, 
 leaving the Boston Public Library at ten o'clock, to the Coun- 
 try Club in Brookline, where luncheon was served at one 
 o'clock and where the day was passed with no formal features 
 except a handicap golf tournament and a game of baseball 
 between two picked nines. The golf tournament was ar- 
 ranged by C. B. Davis and the silver cup provided as a prize 
 for the event was won by H. R. Dow. The game of baseball 
 was so picturesquely described by the reporter of the Boston 
 Herald that the account is inserted here verbatim as it ap- 
 peared in the issue of the Herald on the following morning : 
 
 " While the men gathered in the dining hall for lunch the 
 band played old Harvard airs. During the meal the base- 
 ball records of the men of the Class were reviewed. Under 
 the investigation and cross-examination of some of the legal 
 lights a few pretenders to distinction as one-time baseball 
 champions were forced to smother their vain boasts. 
 
 " The conclusion of the argument was the selection of 
 Wallace Keep and Charles Baker, each to be the captain of 
 13 
 
\ 
 
 Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of 'Si- 
 
 eight other good men and true who were clamoring for a 
 chance to prove their skill. ' Charlie ' Baker was on the 
 'varsity nine from 1881 to 1884, playing shortstop in every 
 Yale game for four years. Wallace Keep was a heavy hit- 
 ter and outfielder on the 'varsity during his college days. 
 Each of the captains elected to do the catching, and lined up 
 their teams as follows : 
 
 KEEP'S TEAM 
 Barnes, 3b. 
 Hardwick, lb. 
 Keep, c. 
 Arnold, 1. f. 
 Guild, c. f. 
 Blanchard, p. 
 C. B. Davis, s. s. 
 Eliot, 2b. 
 Frost, r. f . 
 
 BAKER'S TEAM 
 Clarke, 3b. 
 Bonsai, lb. 
 Baker, c. 
 Terrell, p. 
 W. T. Crocker, 1. f. 
 W. C. Sturgis, 2b. 
 C. T. Davis, s. s. 
 Blodgett, r. f. 
 C. T. Billings, c. f. 
 
 " All the paraphernalia for the game had been bought 
 brandnew for the occasion. ' Herb ' Blanchard confided to 
 Captain Keep that he was in fine form, as he had been 
 ' throwing a few to his boy for several weeks,' so he was 
 allowed to pitch. 
 
 " Baker's team took the field first, giving Blanchard a 
 chance to warm up. Terrell was told to pitch because his 
 name sounded like a pitcher's name. He threw a few wide 
 ones, but he claimed they were only practice balls, so the game' 
 started over. Then Captain Keep asked to have time taken 
 out while the water cooler was transferred down the first 
 base line. The spigot of the cask hung over third base and 
 he was afraid any of his men who made hits would become 
 fascinated by the gleaming spigot and run for third. Walter 
 Barnes, who was at the bat, promised to blaze the trail to 
 the first cushion, so Captain Keep withdrew his objection 
 and the game began again. 
 
 " Here Captain Baker discovered that his accident policy 
 did n't allow him to catch behind the bat without a chest pro- 
 tector. As he has a wife and three children and is attorney 
 for the Carnegie Steel Company, his plea was allowed. Af- 
 14 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '84 
 
 ter the chest protector had been inflated by half a dozen pair 
 of lungs the game started over. 
 
 " Even now some unruly spirit among the spectators tried 
 to interrupt the march of destiny by asking who would um- 
 pire, but at this stage such a solid fraternal spirit prevailed 
 that the suggestion was scorned. Turning a contemptuous 
 glance upon the grand-stand audience which was lolling 
 back in the tall grass where the shade of the trees could 
 reach them, the players asserted, ' We '11 umpire among 
 ourselves ' — and the game was on. 
 
 " Walter Barnes ran out eagerly to meet the first ball 
 pitched and sent it sizzling over the short grass to Sturgis, 
 who did n't like to interrupt it, so let it roll as far as it liked. 
 Then Hardwick stepped up to the plate and stood there until 
 the ball hit the bat. Barnes got ambitious and tried to cover 
 the long arid stretch between second base and the spigot at 
 third, but faltered in transit and was tagged out by Clarke. 
 By degrees an umpire was acquired, as some of Judge Davis' 
 land court decisions were appealed. 
 
 " At the end of the inning the Keep crowd had tallied four 
 times and were eager to try their fielding prowess. Blodgett 
 began trying out-shoots, but they made the catcher nervous 
 for fear the ball would be lost, so he desisted. ' Artie ' 
 Clarke, the first man up, got to first and then got careless 
 and Blodgett caught him napping. Bonsai struck out igno- 
 miniously. Then Captain Baker, seeing that he must rally 
 his forces, exhorted his followers to watch him, and knocked 
 the ball into deep right. The ball came back on the in- 
 stalment plan and reached home plate within a minute of 
 the time Baker had crossed it after scoring the only home 
 run of the day. 
 
 " In the next inning, Keep's crew got two runs, and the 
 Baker Associates three. They should have had more, but 
 Keep threw Clarke out at third, ' just like they did in the 
 Yale game.' After the first half of the third inning, the 
 score card was badly disfigured. The lusty Barnes had 
 scored twice. So had Davis and Eliot and Frosfr The 
 pitcher decided early in the scrimmage that Terrell sounded 
 15 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '84- 
 
 more like a shortstop's name, and thereafter Judge Davis 
 fixed the batsmen with his judicial eye, but the Keep men 
 continued to assault and batter the ball. When they had 
 scored a dozen runs, Frost, in right field, determined to stop 
 the slaughter at all hazards, and stood right under a fly 
 while it fell into his glove. He was applauded to the echo. 
 Mr. Frost returns to Milwaukee a proud man. He scored 
 three runs and caught a fly. 
 
 " The Baker nine argued that this was an unfortunate 
 inning, and should be stricken from the records. Before 
 a board of arbitration could adjust the matter a thunder 
 shower broke and drove the players and spectators back to 
 the clubhouse." 
 
 After luncheon the Boston Cadet Band rendered Goepp's 
 march, dedicated to the Class of 1884, which he had ar- 
 ranged for a military band for the occasion, Goepp himself 
 leading. 
 
 In the evening almost all of the members who had been 
 present during the day at the Country Club assembled at the 
 Tavern Club where the evening was passed informally. 
 
 On Tuesday more than one hundred members of the Class 
 went by special train and motor cars to the place of T. J. 
 Coolidge, Jr., at Manchester. After leaving the train, barges 
 were taken and a stop of an hour was made at the Essex 
 County Club before proceeding to Coolidge's place. On ar- 
 rival there the men amused themselves as they pleased, a 
 great many going in swimming, others playing baseball, and 
 others sitting about, talking and enjoying the singularly beau- 
 tiful scene. During the day W. A. Gardner's yacht " Con- 
 stance " was anchored a short distance from the shore and a 
 large number of the men availed themselves of his invitation 
 to go on board where they were hospitably entertained by 
 him. Luncheon was served at Coolidge's at one o'clock, and 
 about 4.30 the men reembarked for Boston in their various 
 conveyances, after a day of such enjoyment as to arouse the 
 enthusiasm of every man who was present. 
 
 While the men were at Manchester, a reception was given 
 
 16 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '8A 
 
 by Mrs. W. C. Baylies to the wives of the members at her 
 house in Boston, at which forty or fifty were present, which 
 proved a very agreeable and interesting event. 
 
 In the evening the Class assembled for dinner at the Al- 
 gonquin Club, 217 Commonwealth Avenue, Boston, at which 
 one hundred and twenty-eight men, including the Class baby, 
 Ouincy A. Shaw, 2d, were present. Gordon Abbott, Chair- 
 man of the Class Committee, presided and after a speech of 
 welcome to the members by him and the announcement made 
 by the Secretary that the sum of $100,000 had been sub- 
 scribed as a gift of the Class to Harvard College to com- 
 memorate the twenty-fifth anniversary of its graduation, 
 R. S. Mintum was introduced as toastmaster of the evening. 
 A detailed account of the exercises prepared by him follows : 
 
 The Toastmaster 
 
 " Fellows of '84, as your mouthpiece, your spokesman^ 
 I must say first some words which are surely in the hearts 
 of all of us who sit here to-night, — about the happiness, the 
 gratitude, we feel that we are at this table once more, that 
 we can look about and see so many faces that it 's a joy to 
 see again, hear so many of the pleasant old voices, and get 
 such firm grips from friendly hands. It is good for us to 
 be here. We are very glad, very grateful, that the privilege 
 is ours. I know I speak for you all. 
 
 " And this feeling is heightened, is deepened, for us by the 
 thought specially of two men, friends of ours, who five years 
 ago sat here, and of whom to-day the memory only is with 
 us, — our Secretary, Edward Andress Hibbard, and Billy 
 Goodwin, Second Marshal of '84. Great contrasts they 
 were, those two, but both were men it was a privilege, a 
 happiness, to know, whose characters were an honor to 
 Harvard, an honor to New England. 
 
 " Hibbard came to New York to practise law, without in- 
 fluence, without family connection, without wealth, without 
 even physical strength, but bringing his clear, cultivated brain, 
 his crystal-clear integrity, and great industry. Now there 
 is, in this latter day, a certain new rough index of worldly 
 17 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '84 
 
 success, — a strange one, — the Telephone Book. On its 
 pages we see certain chosen names preceded by a star! A 
 star ! whose signification is ' Private Branch Exchange con- 
 necting all Departments.' And such a star, not many years 
 after he came to New York, marked the office of Edward 
 Andress Hibbard, — and such another star, I 'm glad to say, 
 marks also the name of Omri Ford Hibbard. They both 
 of them had, so to speak, hitched their offices to stars. It 's 
 not, though, for his temporal success we honor Hibbard's 
 memory ; it 's for his upright, unselfish character. What- 
 ever question one laid before him one could see that just, 
 conscientious mind take it up and deal with it on principles 
 of right only. He was like a tuning-fork w^hich can only 
 give out the true note, — a just man. The old days had no 
 higher praise, — ' a just man made perfect.' 
 
 " And now of Billy Goodwin. Was there ever, from the 
 first days to these last, one of us whom so many loved, truly 
 loved? I think not. What is that gift given to certain 
 human beings, because of which, when we sit by their side, 
 when we hear their quiet, kindly voices, we say internally, 
 silently, ' O you dear person ! What can I do for you ? 
 I want to do something to show just a little how fond I am 
 of you.' That attraction, that lovableness, Billy Goodwin 
 had all the days of his life, and in him it sprang from an 
 inward harmony of simplicity, affection, and truth, known 
 and tested, year after year, by all who knew him, in all the 
 relations of life, in which he was ever faithful, simple, true, 
 and lovable. Fellows, let us, standing, drink a toast to the 
 memory, honored and loved, of Goodwin and of Hibbard, 
 and of all our classmates who have gone on down the long 
 road ahead of us." 
 
 The toast being drunk in silence, the Toastmaster pro- 
 ceeded : — 
 
 " I want now to add a word about another class officer, 
 this time most happily to his face, — thanking him over 
 again for all his unselfish, efficient work; and apologizing 
 on behalf of each of us for our laziness, our unpunctuality, 
 and our general crankiness. He said just now — it 's Tommy 
 18 
 
Twenty -f-fth Anniversary, Class of '84 
 
 Cummins I 'm speaking of, of course — that he had enjoyed 
 his work, and that phrase of his extracts from me a verse 
 I thought Gordon Abbott's speech had cut me out of. Here 
 it is — I '11 sing it : — 
 
 " O Tommy, Tommy Cummins, you 're a good 'un, so you are^ 
 You 're a credit to old Harvard and the Class of '84 ! 
 May our lives be long your pastime, 
 
 Our statistics be your joy. 
 And the Class Financial Statement 
 Just pure bliss without alloy! 
 
 " There 's another person, too, bearing an official relation to 
 the Class who has n't yet been mentioned. Of all the varied 
 human conditions, surely the most touching, the most moving 
 to us all, is Infancy. As was sweetly said by Josh Billings, 
 'How beautiful is Babes! So much like Human Beings, 
 only smaller ! ' But our babe is not small. He 's over six 
 feet tall, and a married man ! It 's a great pleasure to in- 
 troduce him. He 's a fine child, Quincy Adams Shaw, 2d, 
 our Class Baby ! " 
 
 Three times three were given for Shaw, who thanked 
 the Class in a few modest words and drank to our health 
 and prosperity. 
 
 TOASTMASTER 
 
 " We all know some fertile, happy stretches of land, rich 
 with sweet growths, fed by subterranean springs, which yield 
 for our delight pure, clear water wherever a well is driven, 
 even what looks like stony rock giving forth, to the blow 
 properly struck, fresh, plenteous streams. There 's a mem- 
 ber of this Class who bears in his breast a pure well of verse, 
 bubbling up generously, perennially, for the refreshment of 
 thirsty men and boys. Often have we drunk its clear waters 
 and. ever we long for fresh draughts. He wrote me he 'd 
 run dry, but I can't believe it. Amory, give us a drink I " 
 
 19 
 
Twenty --fifth Anniversary, Class of '84 
 
 .William Amory Gardner 
 
 I can't imagine which were worse; 
 To take a joy-ride in a hearse, 
 Or write a dozen lines of verse 
 On pain of Mintum's heavy curse. 
 
 Ye merchants, doctors, legislators, 
 
 At previous dinners my afflatus 
 
 Has moved my Class Mates — and the waiters. 
 
 But now 't is mighty small potatoes. 
 
 I 've sung so oft in days of yore 
 The famous deeds of Eighty-four 
 That if I did so any more 
 The topic would become a bore. 
 
 So this must serve as my excuse 
 For sparing you my rhymed abuse, 
 And begging Bob to introduce 
 The other chaps who '11 now cut loose. 
 
 TOASTMASTER 
 
 " Now that was what we might call a liqueur glass of 
 a drink ! But was n't it delicious ? Thank you, Amory. 
 
 " There 's another man down on the programme for some 
 formal remarks which are now due. At least forty years 
 ago I remember seeing on Staten Island a manly little Scotch- 
 capped boy scamper by on a Shetland pony and disappear 
 in a cloud of white dust, leaving me standing by the roadside, 
 filled with admiration and despairing envy. From that day 
 to this, at dame school and at St. Paul's, at Cambridge and 
 in New York, I and all of us have watched the same fellow 
 gallop various high horses, — warlike Bucephaluses of Re- 
 form, winged Pegasuses of verse and drama, — sometimes 
 in such clouds of dust that it was hard to judge where his 
 course was tending, — but riding always with spirit, with 
 courage, and with his white oriflamme held high. I call on 
 Jack Chapman." 
 
 20 
 
/<\ultAtioNs <^^^sulTaTioNS 
 
 k 
 
 Being a FEW 
 Sxrains & venturesome Touches upon the 
 Harp in Prose and V^rse in 
 PRAISE of 
 
 THE Clasf? OF *84 
 
 And o/ those ReMARKABLE MEN balongiNg 
 
 to tha Class (whose nBmes Enlustre HaRvaRd 
 
 CollEge) who by Their DeEds and words 
 
 in all ficLds of huMaN endaavor ^ ve 
 
 Everywhere mAne Themselves 
 
 enchaNtingLy knowN : 
 
 These Posies & BolcAys Of 
 Polite LEARNing 
 
 Having been rend ALqUD or delivered (as 
 the phrase is) by 
 
 J^"'^ Jay C 
 
 HAPMAN 
 
 WiIliNg but Unworrhy chronbler of heroes) At the 
 
 class DiNnEr ax the ALgonquin CluB in Boston 
 
 on June 30, 1909 
 
 (i@Cing; the TwcNty-Fifth AnniveRsary of graDuarion of the schoUrs and 
 saints ebove referRed to) 
 
 Are Now for tne First Time priwted and given to 
 
 endurIng fame 
 
A^ xultAtioNs gitS ^nsul 
 
 TaTlONS 
 
 " Poslquam exempta fames, et amor compressus edendi, 
 Atque haec deinde canit divino ex ore sacerdos; " 
 
 — First wife's mother's maiden name? — 
 What the devil 's that to you ? 
 
 " Please, sir, it 's a gent that came, — 
 " Will call again in a day or two, — 
 
 " Says he knows you, — wants to ask 
 " Your age and present occupation, 
 " What you do for daily task, 
 " Or think in midnight meditation : — 
 
 " How much money you have got, — 
 " (At least if you 've collected any) — 
 " Are you an honest man or not ? 
 " Wives and children, please, how many ? " 
 
 — Damn him ! Do I know the sot ? 
 " Sir, he looks in need of victuals. 
 
 He 's from Harvard." — Harvard what? 
 Harvard beer or Harvard skittles? 
 
 Stop ! — I '11 take my affidavit ! — 
 
 'T is a thing within my knowledge, — 
 
 Harvard, — ? — girls ? dogs, clubs ? — I have it ! 
 
 Harvard ! It 's where I went to college ! 
 
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Twenty -fifth Anniversary, Class of '8A 
 
 Let him in, show him up ; for I can't recollect 
 
 Whether Harvard to-day is a watering place, 
 
 Or a cough-drop. It seems, — I was led to expect, 
 
 By the pamphlets they issue, that learning was wrecked, 
 
 And that Harvard meant business, — all business, in fact. 
 
 It 's business to go, and it 's business to leave. 
 They give no degrees, but just recommendations, 
 Deciding what salary you should receive. 
 And standing behind you in business relations. 
 
 Intelligent men by intelligent means 
 
 Have struggled to keep us abreast of the age, — 
 
 To spread Boston's influence, sell Boston's beans. 
 
 And keep Harvard's name in the front of the stage. 
 
 And yet it does daunt the intelligent novice 
 
 To find they have hatched an Intelligence office. 
 
 The tutor keeps tab and is legally bound 
 
 To give a certificate — better or worse. 
 
 It 's good for a shilling if not for a pound ; 
 
 And every exam, you have passed in your course 
 
 Is cash in your pocket. It sounds rather funny 
 
 That Harvard Class marks should be vouchers for money. 
 
 Fair Harvard, thy sons to thy funeral flow. 
 
 They swarm and they flock, for it pays them to go. 
 
 Let him in; why. Good Heavens! Tom Cummins, dear 
 
 friend, 
 Are you fallen so low that you eke out a living 
 By touting for Mammon? Must this be the end 
 Of your glorious youth? Why, it 's next door to thieving. 
 Dear Tommy, sit down, if you can sit, I mean. 
 For your pants are so tight and your legs are so thin 
 That I fear some disaster — let Whitwell come in. 
 He can't be far off, I will wager my life. 
 For Fred is the pudding and Tom is the knife. 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '84 
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 Change xxxxxxxxxx Cars 
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 O Tom! do you remember how Fred Whitwell used to 
 sing Fair Harvard and could n't tell when he came to the 
 end, but kept on like a circulating decimal till somebody- 
 stopped him? 
 
 Here the door burst open and Fred Whitwell rolled him- 
 self into the room. He rolled himself up to me and said 
 " Pleased to meet you, Jack." 
 
 Fred Whitwell, how dare you say that to me ? It 's a 
 phrase you 've picked up at some Dorchester Assembly. 
 Don't apologize! 
 
 " No, no," put in Cummins, " let him apologize. If he 
 is n't allowed to apologize he will be ill." 
 
 Well, we '11 forgive him. But " pleased to meet you " and 
 " highly spoken of " are serious offenses. 
 
 " Now Jack," says Cummins, " I have brought you some- 
 thing to lighten your labors." And Tommy unrolled fifty 
 or sixty long streamers of galley proof. 
 
 Class Lives ! Glorious ! — But Tommy, tell me. Are 
 you feeling better? — I mean since you learned the maiden 
 name of my first wife's mother? It doesn't seem to have 
 made you less hungry. Was it really worth while? Was it 
 worth the straining of our relations and the $80 in postage? 
 But tell me, Tom, you 've read these awf^il pages, one thing 
 I wish to know. Who is the greatest ass in '84 — I mean 
 a thorough-going, old-fashioned, sincere, home-made, un- 
 mistakable ASS — the kind of ass any class would be 
 proud of? 
 
 " Well," says Cummins, — " barring the clergy, — it lies 
 between you and Fiske Warren." 
 
 Tommy, Tommy, I did n't thought you 'd ha' done it 1 
 25 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '84- 
 
 But seriously speaking, in what class of ass are we most 
 rich? For I will willingly class myself with any class of 
 ass in the class. 
 
 Well, said Tom, talking of asses, what men we were! 
 There were giants on the earth in those days. There was 
 Bob Minturn ! They say he 's no good now ; but when he 
 was in College he was the most adorable roseate jackass 
 that ever breathed. Where are there such men nowadays? 
 Don't have 'em, — can't find 'em. There was a man, — if 
 I could only remember his name, — grand piano with 
 flowers on it, — tenor voice, — he was a divine ass, that 
 man. — Pack-bag ! Mac-Pack-Bag ! — something like that. 
 Took College so lightly. Why, he took College as Walter 
 Baylies takes a cocktail, — hardly knows whether he is tak- 
 ing it or not. 
 
 Then there was, — Oh ! there was George Ledlie, the news- 
 man — a character out of an Eighteenth Century play ; — 
 Roger Sturgis, a picturesque donkey ; — sort of pendant to 
 Bob Minturn. (Roger the solemn ass. Bob the laughing ass.) 
 I am merely giving the pictures that rise in my memory. 
 
 Do any of you remember a man called Louis Biddle? 
 Wonderful type for 19th Century America to have pro- 
 duced. At the age of twenty he was a perfect sample of 
 the old, choleric, landholding, Tory aristocrat, — gold-cane- 
 and-snuff-box philosophy, — " Damme sir, no gentleman 
 would do such a thing ! " or " Egad sir, every gentleman 
 must, of course, do such a thing ! " And he was a gentleman 
 too, and much more of a gentleman than you or I can ever 
 hope to be. But my! What an ass! What a solid weight 
 of 18 carat Philadelphia mahogany asshood. He 's here 
 somewhere but he 's no good any more. He 's all mellow 
 and sunny now. All the asses are gone from the earth. 
 But you and I have known them, — you and I who sit here. 
 
 Then there was George Agassiz, who clothed himself 
 with cursing as with a garment, as he h'isted himself across 
 the yard to a recitation. He was never really in college, — 
 George. He regarded himself as outside of college and re- 
 garded college as the phantasmagoria of his imagination. 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '84- 
 
 He rolled over uneasily in his sleep and like a philosopher he 
 knew that he was an ass — ah, those days ! 
 
 Then there was Bert Robbins, — the man from Brooklyn. 
 Now mind you, I don't know whether he really did come 
 from Brooklyn. I never knew him well enough to ask him : 
 though in the still and solemn hours of the night, when we 
 have sat together watching the stars, I have sometimes felt 
 tempted to tread upon forbidden ground, — tempted to 
 whisper " Bert, is it true ? " Perhaps it was not true ; — 
 but someone had let loose the ghastly rumor that he came 
 from Brooklyn. He was too proud to deny it, and too old 
 to live it down; and so it sapped his life and gradually 
 pulled him under. 
 
 Talking of asses, — the door here burst open, and Sam 
 Eliot whirled into the room carrying fifty or a hundred 
 valises which he threw down as he greeted us heartily. 
 
 " Well, fellers, I 've just come from the Rocky Moun- 
 tain Goat Conference. I 've planted the banana of Uni- 
 tarianism on Pike's Peak. * Beware,' said I to the muleteer, 
 ' your mule is carrying the hope of Western Nonsectarian 
 theology.' " " You mean the Pope," said Cummins. Upon 
 which Fred Whitwell began to sing " The Pope he leads a 
 jolly life," and had to be suppressed and apologize over 
 again. 
 
 " And now," continued Sam, " I 've returned to become 
 the successor of Channing — the superseder of everyone 
 since Channing. King's Chapel is my wash-pot. Over 
 Boston have I cast out my shoe. Shake again ! " We shook, 
 crying " Sam we knew you could do it. Ever since we saw 
 your manner of dealing with pie at Memorial Hall, we knew 
 it was in you. But now you must help us find more asses." 
 Thereupon each of the men seized a streamer and began 
 studying. 
 
 " I don't know half of these fellows," said I. " Take Ab- 
 bott : Who 's Abbott ? He seems to be a sort of octopus ; 
 just a list of corporations." 
 
 " He 's the monster spoken of in the Book of Revela- 
 tions," said Sam. 
 
 27 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '84. 
 
 " All I can remember about Abbott," said I, " is that there 
 was a man called Abbott who could drink more than any- 
 body." 
 
 " Here 's a peach," cried Whitwell ; " he 's written a book 
 entitled ' Damma & Goddamma,' and ever so many more 
 unmentionable things. His name is Aiken." 
 
 " Fie upon him," said Sam, " can they not leave this con- 
 tinent to me? " 
 
 He holds a chair of Apologetics in the Catholic Uni- 
 versity, — 
 
 " Apologetics is my field," said Whitwell. 
 
 " No, it 's mine," said Sam, " all religion is mine." 
 
 " He 's a very distinguished fellow ; Brahminism, Budd- 
 hism and Confusionism." 
 
 Eliot was just beginning — " Buddhism and Confusion- 
 ism are my fields, — " when the door burst open and Bud 
 Appleton rushed in shouting " No, they 're mine." We 
 embraced Appleton and explained to him that he could not 
 possibly understand what we were talking about. We gave 
 him a streamer however. " Find asses." Bud began read- 
 ing aloud, and struck oil instantly. " I was born in West 
 Newton, Massachusetts, being of the eighth generation from 
 James Allen, who settled in Medfield. I can trace back to 
 Governor Bradford, and through my paternal grand- 
 father—" 
 
 " Hi ! Hi ! " screamed Sam Eliott, " those are my ances- 
 tors. What the devil does he mean, — I mean what the — 
 personified Spirit of Evil can he refer to?" 
 
 " Well, he 's no slouch anyway. He 's the successor of 
 Dr. Howe at the Blind Asylum and he 's the head of his 
 profession. Governor Guild puts him on the Commission, 
 and, — Oh ! I say — he 's a mernber of the Feeble Minded 
 Club of Vineland, New Jersey." 
 
 " The soil of the A's is particularly rich in assified re- 
 mains," said Bud. " And the B's too, — the B's too." He 
 was bending over the paper, when suddenly his frame became 
 convulsed and in agonized tones he called out, " Romeo ! — 
 Romeo! ! — wherefore art thou Rome?" A dead silence 
 28 
 
Twenty -fifth Anniversary, Class of '84 
 
 followed Bud's unaccountable outburst and Bud continued, 
 — "here 's another ; he is a schoolmaster," and began read- 
 ing aloud, " ' Then I built the school and in the five years I 
 was there the school doubled in size.' " 
 
 " Arnold, Arnold," we shouted, and Arnold marched into 
 the room, — for nothing could ever put him out of counte- 
 nance. " You '11 do," we said. " It would pay them at Har- 
 vard to employ you in any capacity. In five years the place 
 would double in size. Down with Yale ! " 
 
 " That 's nothing," said Arnold. " Look at what Mc- 
 Duffie says about his girls' school. He says that any girl 
 who does n't go to his school had better never have been 
 born." 
 
 " It seems to me there 's a strong smell of schoolmasters 
 in this room," said Amory Gardner, popping in, with two 
 young Groton boys in his pockets to whom he addressed 
 most of his remarks. He had put on Endicott Peabody's 
 sweater by mistake for his own nightgown; but he never 
 found it out and he went on patting the heads of the Groton 
 boys and feeding them with peanuts out of his own mouth, 
 imagining that he was at a Faculty Tea. 
 
 " Frankie's nose is not well yet," he said, " he changed his 
 socks on Septuagesima Monday, and of course he caught 
 cold. There, darling ! " 
 
 " What are you doing with those boys ? " cried out 
 somebody. 
 
 " Fitting them for college," said Amory, applying the 
 vaseline. 
 
 " They would n't get in anyway, if it was n't for Nolen," 
 cried another voice, and an automobile panted into the room 
 filled with bejewelled young baby plutocrats. As they 
 scrambled out of the car they sang in chorus : 
 
 " O Father Nolen, get us in ! 
 O Mother Nolen, get us in! 
 We '11 give you all we 've got, 
 And I tell you it 's a lot. 
 Get us in, get us in, get us in ! " 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '84- 
 
 " If it had n't been for me," said Nolen, " President Eliot 
 could never have raised the standards of admission. He 
 says so himself." And the urchins immediately began their 
 strophe : 
 
 " O Poppy Eliot, go to thunder ! 
 O Mammy Lowell, go to thunder! 
 Your threats are useless now, 
 For the widow shows us how, — 
 We crawl under ! " 
 
 " No more babies allowed in this meeting," said Jeff 
 Coolidge, with dignity. — But it was too late. Fiske War- 
 ren had arrived with seven young Filipinos, to whom he 
 was teaching liberty by means of a patent churn, into which he 
 put each in turn. Every turn of the churn represented one 
 of the Roman months, and thus he taught them the calendar. 
 
 We had hardly had time to examine this interesting and 
 truly philanthropic contrivance, when everybody's attention 
 was distracted, from Fiske's Tagals and became focused 
 upon Gus Thorndike's crippled children, who trooped and 
 rolled into the room swathed in dazzling orthopedic para- 
 phernalia. It may have been that the Tagals were jealous, 
 but at any rate the two sets of children began fighting each 
 other, and a scene of indescribable confusion ensued. 
 
 The orthopedic appliances gave a most unfair advantage 
 to the cripples. Two small Tagals were immediately put to 
 sleep by a club-footed babe from South Boston ; and Thorn- 
 dike and Warren rolled on the floor, clinched. The Groton 
 boys had been placed under the piano by Amory at the first 
 sign of danger; and it was beautiful to see them hide their 
 heads, as the young of the partridge are said to do at a sig- 
 nal from the mother bird. 
 
 No sooner had order been restored than there were heard 
 cries of confusion at the door. " You can't come in ! No, 
 no you don't ! Not this time ! " " But I must — I 'm a 
 member ! " " What is it ? " said Coolidge. " Osborne ! " 
 cried a score of voices. " He has got to drop those young 
 criminals or he can't come in here ! " " Quite right," said 
 30 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '84 
 
 Coolidge. " Have them torn dripping from his bosom, and 
 let every other member of the class be searched for young 
 children before he 's allowed to come in. I knew that this 
 Class Dinner must be a madhouse; but I won't allow it to 
 become an Orphan Asylum." 
 
 At this, the girls' school contingent applauded. They had 
 been growing a little jealous and beginning to wish they 
 had brought some of theirs. 
 
 " I say," said W. T. Crocker, " I 'm disappointed in this 
 meeting. Let 's drop this, and begin a search for great men, 
 for serious public service to religion and humanity and that 
 kind of thing." 
 
 " It 's too late," growled Sam gloomily, " after what has 
 occurred we should all look like asses anyway." 
 
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 We might in prose, — but words, I wis, 
 To follow the heroic fire. 
 Must soar in song. It was for this 
 Apollo gave the lyre. 
 
 And as the mountain eagle seeks the sun 
 
 (At least they say he does who know him best) 
 
 So I to catch my class-mates one by one 
 
 Who have their soaring deeds to heaven addressed 
 
 Must trim my song and set my sails to rise 
 
 Into the very bosom of the skies. 
 
 Somewhat at random; for the end 
 Recedes our searching glance before. 
 We cannot tell whose name shall lend 
 Most radiance to '85. 
 I hate to leave Posterity to name us. 
 Who are already much and justly famous. 
 31 
 
Twenty-fifth 'Anniversary, Class of '84 
 
 Posterity is often wrong you know, 
 
 Posterity has favorites, takes bribes. 
 
 Forgets true men, loves those who make a show, 
 
 And through Posterity's neglect whole tribes 
 
 Of noble heroes get forgotten quite. 
 
 Then let us play posterity to-night. 
 
 Look at the bench, the bar, the Senate's glory; 
 
 See Dana, Saunders, Ellis; — or again, 
 
 Look at the learned fields of classic story. 
 
 See Paton, Gardner, Latham, Jewett, Fenn: 
 
 On medicine I cannot act as talker 
 
 Except that Billy Bryant is a corker 
 
 And all the world acknowledges John Walker. 
 
 And as for chemistry, Good Gracious me ! 
 
 I thank the Lord for having made those gases. 
 
 We 've got a man who 's known across the sea ! 
 
 And I to waste your time recalling asses, 
 
 (Just out of friendship, mind you) while he waits 
 
 Nef, Nef, our chemist stands at Glory's Gates! 
 
 As for the church, we 've every kind our climate 
 Was ever known to raise in human reason. 
 I can't find out that we have raised a primate, 
 But still it 's rather early in the season. 
 Bish- and Archbishops flock a little later 
 To these festivities of Alma Mater. 
 
 Ah ! but the business men ! No cloud can hide 
 The crown success bestows upon persistence. 
 These hold the prize, the joy, the lust, the pride, 
 The ownership of visible existence. 
 The rest of us must only humbly strive 
 To thank these men for leaving us alive. 
 
Twenty-fifth ^Anniversary, Class of '84 
 
 Jeff Coolidge, Baylies, Abbott, Arthur Clarke, — 
 (I 'm sure I shall do wrong to name a name) 
 Which is our greatest banker ? — After dark 
 All burglars look alike and smell the same. 
 But I believe for what his fist has won 
 The greatest of us all is Atkinson. 
 
 Yes he, that smiling boy, that prodigal, 
 
 That worthless, drunken, darling Atkinson, 
 
 Who sucked at Pleasure's breasts, till, lest he fall 
 
 Fate plucked him kicking off and let him run. 
 
 And he became a business man forsooth, 
 
 A magnate in the reconstructed South. 
 
 Almost at once, before his lips were dry 
 
 He seized the reins of power and held them tight; 
 
 Tramways and mills obeyed his potent eye. 
 
 And Mammon's minions bowed before his might. 
 
 A Sun God ruled in Pluto's dismal pit 
 
 When Harry Atkinson was lord of it. 
 
 True, at the present time his light is dim ; 
 
 But still his work remains, — his deeds, his mind ; 
 
 The paths he blazed remain to tell of him! 
 
 Tush ! in the end, he '11 shine as he has shined. 
 
 'T is but a passing cloud before the sun. 
 
 Say, brothers, here 's a health to Atkinson ! 
 
 xxxxxxxxxxxxxx 
 
 xxxxxxxx 
 xxxxxxxxxxxxxx 
 
 Osborne, of thee we had expected much, 
 Even in thy youth, before the fates declared 
 The meaning of a brow that wore a touch 
 Of sadness and of talent, we had dared 
 To prophesy some mystic gain for thee; 
 I know not what, — some palm, some victory. 
 33 
 
Twenty-fifth 'Anniversary, Class of '8A 
 
 And thou hast overrun all expectation, 
 
 Not in the brightness of a single deed, 
 
 But in the wealth and richness of donation 
 
 That has a hand for every human need ; 
 
 And like a vine that hangs above the street 
 
 Blossoms in charities that make the world smell sweet. 
 
 A many sided nature, a small town. 
 
 The chance to share whatever gift he had 
 
 Of music, education, or renown, — 
 
 Whatever makes men strong, or makes them glad, 
 
 He used them all at once, and would not rest; 
 
 But labored like a bird that builds its nest. 
 
 In politics, in business, in reform, — 
 
 In office high or low his work he 's at. 
 
 To-day a journalist, he rides the storm: 
 
 To-morrow, a street-preacher hands the hat. 
 
 He '11 lead an orchestra or write a play. 
 
 Or stump the state on questions of the day. 
 
 xxxxxxxxxxxxxx 
 
 Blessed the man whose nature gives him leave 
 To be himself, — to love, to hate, to doubt ; 
 To speak, to smite, to question, to believe; 
 To laugh, and wear his conscience inside-out! 
 Happy the stock where such a fruit is graft. 
 Leigh Bonsai, 't is at thee I aim the shaft. 
 
 There always was some terror in your frown, 
 A sort of gruff, grotesque, heroic note. 
 And now, in Baltimore, you run the town; 
 And take the politicians by the throat; 
 Have twenty handsome children and a wife. 
 Bravo! Such men make half the joy of life. 
 34 
 
Twenty -■fifth Anniversary, Class of '84- 
 
 Walter ! Old Boston claims you — In her eyes 
 You muster with the honorable few 
 To whom the state commits grave enterprise; 
 And Beacon Street is very proud of you, 
 Giving you honors. Yea, you hold the key 
 To all that codfish aristocracy. 
 
 And we, like Joseph's brethren, humbly wait 
 
 To claim our share in you. Your heart we know; 
 
 That heart first made you loved, then made you great ; 
 
 And out of it, do all these honors flow. 
 
 Chief Marshal — yes, but let the title pass 
 
 And here 's to Walter, Father of the Class. 
 
 xxxxxxxxxx 
 Change xxxxxxxxxx Cars 
 xxxxxxxx 
 
 And now the air grew strangely blue, — 
 If smoke or memory were to blame, — 
 The door swings wide, and flocking through 
 A quaint procession came. 
 
 Old forms and faces I had known 
 Came past in magic show ; 
 Souls that were mirrors of my own — 
 Alas how long ago. 
 
 Where have ye been this many a year? 
 Shut fast; in Life's dark book 
 Well folded up, — yet were ye here ! 
 How strangely young ye look. 
 
 Schoolboys unfledged and innocent, — 
 So ignorantly wise 
 
 I 'd almost swear that ye were meant 
 For saints in Paradise. 
 
 35 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '84 
 
 And such they seem who left us when 
 Our wings were scarce in feather; 
 Ford, Latham, Butler, — passed for men, 
 When we were boys together. 
 
 And so they were. 'T is right that some 
 Should stay forever still the same. 
 Bright images of kingdom come. — 
 Alas their Kingdom came. 
 
 They in that youth that knows no change 
 Our happy springtime hold. 
 Without them you and I look strange, 
 Sad, unrelated, old. 
 
 They are the key to that dim place 
 Where once we walked at will — 
 Garden of Eden of the race, — 
 It lurks within us still. 
 
 Lightly accepting pains and joys 
 We met each other then; 
 The careless, deathless thoughts of boys 
 Make prisoners of men. 
 
 And we into each other, grew; 
 How easy 't is to say ! — 
 Alas, 't was all the life we knew. 
 We could not get away. 
 
 This is the thing that college brings 
 Which no place else supplies: 
 It takes you young, and gives you things, — 
 Enlarges families. 
 
 Crams new-found brothers down your throat, 
 Until you hardly guess 
 If you have on his overcoat, 
 Or he has on your dress. 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '84- 
 
 No one who has n't been can know 
 How much all earthly goods are dross; 
 And if you take a hat or shoe, 
 You count the gain as loss. 
 Only the early Christians rose 
 To such seraphic views on clothes. 
 
 This is the good that college means; 
 Not all that learning and research 
 They write about in magazines, 
 And talk about in church. 
 All that 's a solemn sham and show 
 To make your parents let you go. 
 
 Somehow the world demands pretence 
 
 And won't believe what 's good is good 
 
 Unless they call it something else, — 
 
 Like medicine for food. 
 
 There 's nothing in all education 
 
 That can't be better learned in a vacation. 
 
 And in the line of recreation 
 And relaxation from all knowledge 
 There 's nothing that the world can give 
 That can't be better got at college. 
 
 O blessed fraud that gives the lad 
 
 Some respite ere the cruel strife 
 
 Begins, ■ — deceives him, — makes him glad, — 
 
 Unfits him for his life, 
 
 That life, at least, which in this age 
 
 Is most poor boys' harsh heritage, 
 
 Life in its mean and narrow sense, 
 The cut-throat struggle for dear bread. 
 Interests restricted and intense 
 That threaten to strike dead 
 All of the natural love of truth 
 That wells up richly in the heart of youth. 
 37 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '84- 
 
 College protects him, college gives him space 
 To breath a little and perhaps reflect, 
 To dream some large relation tO' his race 
 Outside the conduct which his times expect. 
 College is like a friendly incubator; 
 Much more like that than like an alma mater. 
 
 Under her quiet shade we grew 
 
 A trifle harder in the gristle, 
 
 Seeds in the pod; and then there blew 
 
 The wind that shakes the thistle. 
 
 And scattered us across the heather, 
 
 From whence to-day heaven blows us back together. 
 
 Hard-featured men, much like the rest 
 
 Who storm about as in the din 
 
 Of this coarse world, — who could have guessed 
 
 What love we bear within? 
 
 'T is not alone as youth that youth is prized, 
 
 But through it all mankind is humanized. 
 
 38 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '84 
 
 TOASTMASTER 
 
 " What can we say after words such as those we 've just 
 listened to? They're of an altogether different sort from 
 our usual fare. We all of us pale our ineffectual fires. I 
 can only try to express our feelings by those wonderful 
 words of the great English poet, — Sheets or Kelly — which- 
 ever it was, I don't remember exactly : — 
 
 " ' When I heard Chapman speak out clear and bold, 
 Then felt I as some watcher of the sky 
 When a new comet hits him in the eye ! ' 
 
 Three times three for Chapman," which were given with a 
 will. 
 
 McCagg, being then called on, sang most spiritedly and 
 beautifully " The Yeoman's Wedding " with great applause. 
 As he was sitting down there entered the room a delegation 
 from the Class of '69 (which was dining on the floor above), 
 William S. Hall bearing on his head a bucket of ice and 
 magnum of champagne, supported on either side by Austen 
 G. Fox and Frank Millet, — like an allegorical picture of 
 " Prosperity sustained by Law and The Arts." Mr. Hall ex- 
 horted '84 to follow the example of '69 in its devotion to 
 Scholarship and Temperance, assuring us of their interest 
 in our welfare (of which this magnum was a pledge), and of 
 the care with which they had calculated we could take no 
 harm from their gift, for, evenly divided between us, a 
 thimbleful would be the portion of each man. 
 
 The delegation and the champagne being received with 
 tumultuous cheering, a counter-expedition, headed by Frank 
 Hamlin and freighted with the best old brandy the Club 
 afforded, was despatched to the room of '69, where it was 
 most hospitably greeted and entertained. 
 
 Speeches were then made by Walter Baylies, our Com- 
 mencement Marshal, — the holder of 57 Varieties of direc- 
 torship and the exemplar of 57 Varieties of the choicest 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary^ Class of '8A 
 
 goodfellowship ; by Lawrence Sexton, our candidate for 
 Overseer, — of the quality of whose friendship and charac- 
 ter the Toastmaster spoke with feehng and with the Class's 
 warmly approving applause; by Frank Hamlin; Rome 
 Brown; Ramage; Aiken (who, referring to the beau- 
 tiful day we had just had at T. J. Coolidge's, recalled also 
 other pleasant and generous actions of Coolidge's long ago) ; 
 by Osborne, by Conant, and by Hollis Webster. 
 
 The last speech of the evening, Jewett's, called forth the 
 greatest applause of all. He said : — 
 
 Classmates of 1884, — I should like to have a little heart to 
 heart talk with you before we part. I will not detain you long 
 for you are all tired and so am I. If I make this talk rather 
 personal, it is because it is in a way a kind of confession. 
 
 It is now nearly thirty years since we began our college life 
 together. Numbering, as we did, more than two hundred, 
 and coming from different parts of the country, from differ- 
 ent schools and from families in very different circumstances, 
 it was, perhaps, inevitable that we should be far from homo- 
 geneous and that the various types represented should not 
 be thoroughly in sympathy. I, for example, was a poor boy 
 and a grind ; there were others in the Class who were neither 
 poor boys nor grinds, and the judgments we formed of each 
 other were the narrow-minded judgments of boys. Then, 
 as others have pointed out, the shyness of boys, — a shyness 
 causing a fear of seeming on the one hand too pushing and 
 on the other too patronizing, — also helped keep us apart. 
 So we drifted into our little coteries and cliques, and thus 
 many fine opportunities to revise and broaden these judg- 
 ments and to get to know intimately splendid fellows were 
 lost, in some cases for years and in other cases for ever. 
 
 Some of us have not been back often since graduation, and 
 such ties of affection as there were had become greatly loos- 
 ened. I will confess that it was loyalty to an ideal of class 
 loyalty that brought me here this time rather than the pros- 
 pect of meeting again with a united class. But, classmates, 
 40 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Class of '8A 
 
 I am more glad than I can tell that I did come. I have had 
 a fine time and it has done me a world of good. I have 
 talked with this one and that one whom I knew but slightly 
 in college, and I can begin to appreciate what fine fellows they 
 really are. I have learned what noble work for society some 
 of the fellows are doing whom I used to think of as idlers 
 or even bums, and I have been ashamed of those youthful 
 judgments. But I am most glad that those judgments have 
 been proved wrong, and I am glad that henceforth I can think 
 of '84 as my class in a sense it was not in the old days. In 
 the future I shall look forward to our gatherings with eager- 
 ness, for not only have I learned to appreciate better what 
 good fellows the '84 men really are, but also, when I look at 
 the splendid record of the noble work that my classmates 
 have been and are doing, I am proud and glad that I am a 
 member of the Class of 1884. 
 
 The dinner broke up after i a. m. with hands-all-round 
 and the singing of " Auld Lang Syne " and " Fair Harvard," 
 with cheers, warm handshakings, and exhortations to be early 
 at Massachusetts the next day to vote for Sexton for Over- 
 seer. It was without doubt the most delightful dinner we 
 have had since we graduated. 
 
 On Commencement Day the Class had its meeting and 
 luncheon in Holden Chapel, attended by practically all the 
 men who had taken part at one time or another in the 
 celebration. 
 
 Walter C. Baylies was Chief Marshal of the alumni and 
 received them and their guests, as well as members of the 
 Class, at luncheon in University Hall. At two o'clock the 
 procession of the alumni was formed under the leadership 
 of Baylies, who had appointed as his aids the following mem- 
 bers of the Class : Abbott, Bryant, J. T. Bullard, Cobb, T. J. 
 Coolidge, Jr., Cummins, Eliot, Gardner, F. Hamlin, Mc- 
 intosh, Osborne, R. P. Perkins, Robbins, Sexton, and R. F. 
 Sturgis. 
 
 41 
 
Twenty-fifth Anniversary^ Class of '84 
 
 A large number of men attended the exercises in Memorial 
 Hall and these formed the conclusion of a very successful 
 and enjoyable reunion. 
 
 The following members of the Class were present at some 
 or all of the events : 
 
 Abbott, Agassiz, Aiken, E. E. Allen, B. A. Andrews, J. 
 Andrews, Appleton, Arnold, Atwood, Bacon, Baker, Ban- 
 croft, W. S. Barnes, Baylies, Biddle, Bierwirth, C. T. Bill- 
 ings, H. Billings, Blanchard, C. W. Bliss, Blodgett, Bonsai, 
 Booth, Bridge, G. W. Brown, R. G Brown, Bryant, E. G. 
 Bullard, J. T. Bullard, Burr, Chapman, F. H. Clark, E. A. 
 S. Clarke, Cobb, Codman, Cogan, Conant, T. J. Coolidge, 
 Jr., G. U. Crocker, W. T. Crocker, Cummins, Dana, Darling, 
 C. B. Davis, C. T. Davis, Denton, Dow, Drown, Eliot, Ellis, 
 Fenn, Frenkel, Frost, Frothingham, Gardner, W. L. R. 
 Gifford, Gilman, Goepp, Goodspeed, Greve, Guild, A. Ham- 
 lin, C. E. Hamlin, F. Hamlin, Hardwick, Hatch, W. A. 
 Hayes, Hibbard, C. A. Holmes, F. W. Holmes, Holt, Hud- 
 gens, Hunting, Hutchinson, Jack, Jenkins, Jennings, Jewett, 
 Jones, Keep, Kendall, Lancaster, Ledlie, J. Lowman, Mc- 
 Cagg, MacDuffie, Mcintosh, Minturn, Mitchell, Moore, 
 Morss, Mullen, Mumford, Nash, Nolen, Nye, Osborne, Pay- 
 son, Peirson, Penrose, A. S. Perkins, G. H. Perkins, R. P. 
 Perkins, Phippen, Pickop, Plummer, Ramage, Robbins, Rose, 
 Rueter, Safford, Sexton, Shaw, Spelman, R. F. Sturgis, 
 W. C. Sturgis, Terrell, A. Thorndike, P. Thorndike, Trail, 
 Turner, Underwood, Wakefield, Walker, Walsh, Webster, 
 Wells, Wesselhoeft, Whitwell, Williams, Wilson, Wyeth. 
 
 Class Gift. 
 
 At the dinner of the Class held at the University Club on 
 June 23, 1908, the desire of the members present was ex- 
 pressed in a vote passed to the effect that the Class should 
 make as a gift to the College, in commemoration of the 
 twenty-fifth anniversary of graduation, a fund to be known 
 as the " 1884 Fund," the amount of said fund not to be fixed 
 42 
 
Twenty -fifth Anniversary, Class of '84 
 
 in advance, the income of which should go to the College 
 authorities unrestricted, to be used by them in such manner 
 as they should deem for the best interest of the College. 
 Circulars were issued, inviting subscriptions to such a fund 
 and as a result the sum of $100,000 was subscribed and the 
 Corporation was so notified on Commencement Day. 
 
f^OV 19 W^ 
 
 ICOt'r r)pi TO r-n-f ry 
 
 NOV 19