new scheme with a small but exceedingly promising lot of youngsters 

 from our class, some of them of brilliant intellect. Ormond, Osborn, 

 Wardlaw and Williamson were all men of unusual abilities; John 

 Wardlaw and Bill Annin died young, but they were both extraordinary 

 men. Libbey, Speir and myself completed the list of the names that I 

 can recall, but there were others, I am sure. 



Osborn, Speir and I had comparative anatomy under W. E. D. Scott, 

 the well known ornithologist, a course that took up the greater part of 

 our time. We also worked in the museum, unpacking and repairing 

 the fossils we had collected, a task in which our 'prentice hands were 

 assisted by the expertness of Dr. Hill, curator of the geological mu- 

 seum. Dr. McCosh gave us an advanced course in the history of philoso- 

 phy. Most novel, delightful and stimulating of all was a reading in 

 Kant's Kriti\ der reinen Vernunjt, which we had with a newcomer 

 to Princeton, Professor W. M. Sloane, who had spent six years at the 

 legation in Berlin, when Bancroft was the American Minister. The 

 class in Kant used to meet in a bare room in West College, furnished 

 only with the needed chairs and a big pine table around which we sat 

 and in which Sloane asked us to carve our names. Sloane speedily be- 

 came intimate with us all, and to Osborn, Speir and myself he was 

 ever one of our closest and dearest friends until his death in Septem- 

 ber 1928. 



We were much more closely associated with Dr. McCosh than we 

 had been as undergraduates and began to appreciate something of his 

 kindliness and geniality, though, like another famous Scotchman, he 

 "joked with difficulty" and had little understanding of other people's 

 humour. We continued to laugh at him, on the sly, but in a way that 

 implied no hint of disrespect. I remember seeing him one day, as he 

 strolled along a walk in the campus and kept turning to look now at 

 one building, now at another. Bill Annin, who was with me, chuckled 

 and said: "Look at old Jimmy, saying to himself 'This is great Babylon 

 that I have builded'." 



On a previous page, I have alluded to the manner in which Dr. 

 McCosh "gave himself away" to me and destroyed all my fear of him 

 and of his "big, bow-wow" manner, to use Sir Walter Scott's phrase. 

 The incident happened in our graduate year and was in this wise. There 

 was a harum-scarum Junior, whom we may call McAllister (as it wasn't 

 his name), who had got into trouble of some insignificant sort, and 

 was threatened with suspension; at his urgent request, we three went 

 with him to the President, to intercede for him. No sooner had we 



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