stands the man-the physical, mental and moral man. Many changes have been wrought in substantive and procedural law, and the lawyer must keep abreast of these changes, for "the law is essentially a progressive science; and its structure and the rules of procedure must continue to change as required by new conditions of society." These changes can only be wisely made through the united thought and action of the Bench and Bar, for judges and lawyers are one. At the opening of the Royal Courts of Justice, the Lord Chief Justice said he "hoped that the unbroken tradition-unbroken since he had known it-of mutual dependence and harmony between the Bench and Bar would continue unbroken-relations without which the Bar might probably, and the Bench certainly, would find it impossible to discharge their most important functions."

The most important thing for the lawyer to possess, in order to discharge his simple, every-day duty to his client, is common sense, the ability to see things as they are, not as he would like to see them. To have a just appreciation of the true relation which one fact or one principle bears to every other fact and every other principle involved in the case. To have a sense of legal perspective, and the skill to present effectively the strong points in his case and the art to conceal the weak ones. To have that common honesty which prevents one not only from trying to fool another, but from fooling himself. No matter how acute the intellect, or how well prepared one may be in the learning of the schools, there comes to the lawyer no practical success without an infinite care of details and an accurate knowledge of facts. If you are right on the facts the law will take care of itself. It goes without saying that the foundation at last on which the lawyer must build is his knowledge of the law. When to this knowledge is added human sympathy, clear statement, and true eloquence, the lawyer becomes the strongest single force in human affairs. It is true that forensic oratory has changed even within the memory of living men, but the power of clear, strong, forceful and ornate speech is as great today as when in the Forum Cicero defended Roscius or prosecuted Verres, or from the Senate drove forth Cataline. The same advancement which came to the Roman lawyer, professionally, politically and socially, from splendid oratory, comes today to the cultivated and accom

plished American lawyer. There is in a great oration a plan as complete as that in architecture, a form as noble as that in sculpture, an expression as true as that in painting, and a harmony as perfect as that in music. It does not follow that true oratory fails to be appreciated by a practical people. The Romans were essentially practical. While mere display and affectation find no support at the Bar, before the people, or in deliberative assemblies, yet directness, force and good taste continue to convince and persuade.

The duty which a lawyer owes to himself, his client, and the state is in proportion to his power. If he would have respect of others, he must first respect himself, and the character, dignity and bearing of a truly great lawyer has more influence over the Bar than oaths of office or canons of ethics. The highest praise that can come to the lawyer is the good opinion, the love and esteem of his brothers at the Bar. They weigh him at his just weight. They measure him according to his just measure. They know his capacity, ability, industry, and integrity, how true he is to his clients' cause, and how far he is from placing his professional honor in his clients' keeping; they know how far he is respectful to court, opposing counsel, parties, and witnesses. They know how far he is from speaking disparagingly of the members of his own Bar, and of the judges before whom he practises. They know how far he detests petty meanness and abhors sharp practices. They know full well whether or not his courtesy is unfailing, his courage undoubted, and his ideals high. The true test of the lawyer is the opinion of the Bar. "The greatest lawyer, be he judge or jurist, is he who combines a firm grasp of the material realities of life with a clear vision of the ideal beyond." And no lawyer can have a higher ideal than the maintenance of the independence of the judges. This maintenance was said by Webster to be "essential and indispensable to the very being of the government." This maintenance should not be half-hearted. The upright and fearless judge should feel that he has at all times and under all circumstances the earnest and loyal support of an outspoken and courageous Bar. No selfrespecting judge will be guilty of judicial arrogance. . He is as considerate of the feelings of the youngest lawyer who practises before him as he is of the great leader of the Bar. Disrespect

from the Bar to the Bench is vulgar and punishable; disrespect from the Bench to the Bar is cowardly and contemptible.

Law is a profession, not a trade, and success in it consists in more than money-getting. Personal interest should be merged in the welfare of the client, and every honorable effort be made to avoid unnecessary litigation. If litigation comes, then it is war, but honorable war, and in its conduct the true lawyer-the man who deserves success-must face with a high courage every danger. The frenzy of the mob should not deter him from doing his duty as he understands it. Judicial arrogance should not overawe him into servile submission to erroneous decision. He should be bound by no fetters of gold, blinded by no prejudices of creed or party, but deaf to all appeals of ignoble self-interest. he should ever be the loyal lover of his jealous mistress, the law. He should bear reverses with fortitude and receive success with modesty. He should remember that a good cause requires no abuse, and that a bad one is not helped by it; that violence of gesture is not grace, and loudness of voice is not eloquence; that dogmatic assertion does not convince, and vituperation does not persuade. He should reverence his conscience as a king. His glory should be in redressing human wrongs. He should speak no slander, no, nor listen to it. That lawyer alone brings respect to the Bar who "with high erected thought seated in the heart of courtesy," with "malice towards none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives him to see the right,” with clear brain and brave heart, with high and noble purpose, with labor that feels no weariness and courage that knows no faltering, guards his clients' cause and his country's liberties as he does his own fair name. The lawyer has not always been a favorite of the populace, of literature, and of legislation. Lawyers were banished from Rome. In 1307 the English House of Commons enacted that no man of law should be returned to that body. Virginia, in 1645, forbade lawyers to receive fees, and Massachusetts, in 1663, excluded them from the general court. Even Plato said it was a sign of an intemperate and corrupt commonwealth when lawyers abound. Dick the Butcher proposed to Jack Cade they should first kill the lawyers. Peter the Great thought it well to hang them, while dramatists have denounced them, and novelists have caricatured them, and yet the

lawyers have at all times done their duty to their country. Coke, by his energy of character and constitutional learning, carried the Petition of Right. In this country, from John Marshall at Brandywine, Monmouth and Valley Forge, down to this good hour, the lawyers have defended the dignity, power and glory of the republic. In every crisis there has arisen a great lawyer. Back of Washington stood Hamilton; back of Grant stood Lincoln. Back of Lee stood Judah P. Benjamin. Hamilton, Lincoln, Benjamin, all great lawyers, exemplifying the highest ideals of the law.

Mr. Woodrow Wilson, in addressing this Association in 1910, said that this country "never needed lawyers more than it needs them now." His statement is as true today as when he uttered it. The republic needs the bold, eloquent, patriotic and fearless advocate as much now as the colonies needed him in that elder day when out of 56 signers of the Declaration of Independence 28 were lawyers, as much as in the day when James Otis fired the heart of Massachusetts and Patrick Henry roused Virginia to resistance. It is true that we exercise no direct force; we can neither make laws nor execute them; at our command no battleships cover the seas, no squadrons with raised sabers charge the foe, no infantry marches with steady tread, no artillery trains its guns, no fertile fields are devastated, no proud cities razed, no treasure is squandered, and no blood is shed; and yet, mightier than armies and navies is the intellectual and moral force of the world's lawyers, for back of every form of civilized government, advising and controlling governmental policy, are the lawyers. Their influence is far-reaching. It may be read by the light of the hearthstone, guiding the domestic relations, and in the afterglow of battle, preparing and executing the final compact of peace between warring nations.

Duty comes with power, and opportunity waits on both. Never in the history of advocacy has so broad, so varied, and so interesting a field existed for the work of the truly great lawyer. Out of our modern conditions new facts and new combinations of facts are constantly arising-conditions never dreamed of by the ancient law, not covered by statutes, and not settled by adjudicated cases. The vast changes that have been wrought within the memory of living men make the truths of today seem stranger

than the fables of antiquity. We travel now from Joppa to Jerusalem by steam; we telegraph or telephone to our friends at home, send a wireless to them at sea, and cable to them across the ocean. We no longer ride in the one-horse chaise or on the old stage-coach, but in palace car, automobile, or airship. Fulton's Clermont has become the dreadnought. The rude bridge of wood or stone is replaced by one of structural steel. The spinning wheel has become the factory with its thousands of spindles, its army of operatives, its stupendous corporate wealth. The agricultural chemist has restored the worn-out soil. The hydraulic engineer has made fertile the arid lands. The mechanical engineer, by a thousand labor-saving devices, has enabled the "man" to throw away the hoe and stand erect in the image of his Maker. The village water-wheel becomes Niagara chained, and the tallow dip is lost in electric glory. The stylus has been succeeded by the typewriter, the printer by the Mergenthaler, the hand-press by Hoe's octuple. The mad rushing train is stopped in an instant by compressed air; while anesthesia, the Roentgen ray, and antiseptic surgery, together with a knowledge of the laws of sanitation and hygiene, have increased the duration of human life. To such a degree of perfection has science attained that we can get from the laboratory an egg or a beefsteak, a ruby or a diamond. From the waste product of the gas retort come the most delicate colors, the perfume of flowers, the flavor of fruits. It is a far cry from the bows and arrows of our ancestors to the high explosives, the smokeless powder, the howitzers of today; from the war galleys of Diodorus Sicilius to the modern submarine. It is a far cry from Morse to Marconi.

Not only has science compelled the old law to expand, and new statutes to be enacted, but transportation by land and sea, in the heavens above and in the waters beneath, are presenting new problems of regulation, control, and ownership. Great highways are being constructed involving new applications of the law of eminent domain, and the right to impose specific taxes upon motor vehicles because of the special benefit they derive from improved roads; the right of these vehicles to run in cities in opposition to surface roads, and the reasonableness or unreasonableness of ordinances and statutes for their regulation are raising questions as difficult as they are novel.