The Messenger, Vol. 13, No. 3 by UR Scholarship Repository

VOL. XIII.

DECEMBER,

1887.

NO. 3.

EDITORS: J. G. DICKINSON. Mu Sigma Rho, { H. W. STRALEY, :\f. E. P ARRISII.

J. 'l'. NOET,L, Philologian. { A. "M. CARROLL.

lI. R.

Business Manager-W. A. BORUM. Assistant Business Manager-0. B.

The

College

Up from the chapel one winter's clay, Bringing to one student fresh di:,may, The air the voice of the president borf' '.\Hclst a terrible rumble and grumble and roar, For examination was on once more, A n<l the student wa~ five hundred lines away. A.nu ~harper still those terrible ,rnrLh Pierced the heart of the stmlent like sword~, For Virgil was haru ancl his words were new, And you'd not find an old one search him through, And the blood of the student chilled with fear, And OV!lrhis eyes came a kind of blear As he thought of examination clay And himself fi\â€˘e hnndrccl lines away. But there i8 a pony in Baldwin town Which all oi the btmlc;}ts cannot riclc. clown. A steed all printed in black an<l white, And travelling like to the rays of light. And the student knowing hi~ te1 ril.Jle need, Jumped on to the back of the ticry , teed; An hour passed by, but his heart w:1sgay, He was only four hundred lines aw:ty. The first that the stndcntsaw were the groups Of gerunds and infinitives-horrid troopE-

HUNDLEY

'l'IPPET'I'.

Po11y.

What was done, what to him both. With a smile on his face, an oath, He clashed the spurs to his And was only two hundred

do, a ghâ€˘ nee tolu and no thought of pony gay, lines away.

Under his spurning feet the road Like an arrowy alpine Hvcr 1lowcd. Genitives and datives were passed en route, And he scorneu the ablative ab,olutc. And when the be11 from the co1lcge tower Told the examination hour, His pony landed him safe in class, And before he turned himself out to grass Ile seemed to the waiting ones to say, "I've brought you my master all the way Full five hundred lines and saved the day.'' Hurrah! Hurrah! for the pony, then! Hurrah! Ilurrah ! for the horse and man '. And when this pony without a sigh Is placed on the book case high and Llry, Some day shall a matron take it down And say to the children gathered around : "This is the pony that saved the day By taking your father into the fray When he was five hundred lines away!" [Normal (N.

r.) News.

RICHMOND

COLLEGE ~MESSENGER. Carlyle.

Carlyle was always opposed to having anyone write a history of his life, for he felt that the world misunderstood him, anJ therefore that no biographer could justly represent him. Born of humble Sco~ch parentage, he partook of the stern Scotch qualities. It was at Ecclefechan, m the North of Scotland, on December 4th, 1795, that Thomas Carlyle was born. His parents, at great pecuniary sacrifice, and much against the protestations of neighbors, whose observation had led them to believe that " too much Jamin' " makes a boy "despise his ignorant parents," sent Thomas on foot, one hundred miles, to the University ~f Scotland, at Edinburgh. His parents intended that he shouid be educated for the ministry. Bnt it soon became apparent that Tom's mind and genius, much to the disappointment of his parents, were not cut by that pattern, for grave religious doubts early, aro!e in hi& mind, which the reading of Gibbon greatly strengthened. He was good at figures, fond of Latin, and was one of the few young men of the university who were there for the purpose of conscientious study. At the end of four years he tried teaching for a livelihood, but did not find the pedagogic stool congenial to his tastes. He tried the law, but retired in disgust. Carlyle, however, felt, although he had knocked at many doors and had successfully entered none, that there was yet eomething in himself, and that sooner or later it would come out, and the world should feel it. His first attempts at literatm Âˇe were unsuccessful and unappreciated. Neither

the publishers nor the magazines cared to undertake their publication. His attempts at poetry were quite unsncces:;ful; for he was, to a marked degree, wauting in the stuff of which tlie poet is made. He undertook fiction, but left his task unfinished. On account of his early failures, he seriously thought of abandoning Ii terature. "Sartor," an essay 011 " Clothes," one of the earliest of his attempts, though in many respects a remarkable production, met 1, ith little fa\'or. An essay on '' The Faust," published about the same timr, was more fortunate, aw~ found ready readers, as did also that on "Mirabeau" and "The Diamond Necklace." In 1836 he finished his History of the French Revolution, which at once gave him a prnminent stand among the literary men of the day. With days of toil, and nights of sleeplessness, and all the time dyspepsia, he at length brgan to see the object of his ambition. In form and arrangement The French Revolution is Carlyle's greatest work. In it, as well, he shows the genius of the dramatist, bringing his characters upon the stagP, an_d causing them to live and breathe, and speak, and act, and make their exit.. All parts of it are not equally grand or impressive, but like the spmting of an intermitting volcano, he sends forth now fire ~nd burning rock, and now lapses into a quiet, unintem,ting listlessness. One of the grandest passages in the book is the description of the fall of the Bnstilc. The historian paints the scene to the eye, the rustling, restlessness of the crowd, the noise, hubbub and din of battle, the surging to and fro of the coufoti~cl host~

CARLYLE. as w:wes of a mighty sea, until reaching a grand culmination, in the cry of the ex1il tant besieger8, "Victoire, Le Bas tile est pris ! " Carlyle's own estimate is int hrse 1rords: "It is not altogether a bad book. I consider it the sincerest book the nation has had offered it for a goo<l few years, or is likely to get for a goo<lfew more." He also says that the key to all his knowledge of men and of the world's history lay in the study of the French Revolntion. \V hile this work was still in the process of preparation, "Sartor Resartus " nppeared. This was a review of his former essay on " Clothes," which purported to ue a dissertation on " Die Kleicle," by " Professor Teufelsdri:ickh." Thus he criticises his previous work under the guise of criticising another; and in many respects is most just in his criticism both pro and con. This work, on account of the nature of its contents, did not easily find a pnhlisher. At this time he was very poor, and he says of the work, " A wi!d sorrow rings through it like wind over an l:Eolian harp." It contains some good thing,,, howeve1·, amongst a mass of rnbbish. Carlyle's brother John had lrnen stndying medicine in Germany, and was a member of a social club, which it seems-as clubs in Germany uefore h:111 a11'1 have since 1lone--to have had fot· it;, object the discussion of '' Beet·, Sm•>ke an I Philosophy," and many thinJ~ out of the pt·oceedingo of this clnb, communic.ited to him by his brnthet· Johi:;, we1·e incol'porated in this e,:;say on the " Philosophy of Clothes." It m 1y not bJ amiss tn give · Carlyle\; own edtinute of this e3say. "It is a wol'k born _in darkness, des-

tined fur oblivion, an<l not worth wasting a word on." If this be trne, and he himself hath said it, then it behooves ns to pass on to the next of his works which it may be worth our while to mention here, viz.: "Heroes and Hero ·worship," which was a series of lectures delivered in the spring of 1840. This was a subject ad- mirably adapted to_his tastes, for Carlyle was pre-eminently a hero worshipper . . We consider this one of the very best of his minor prnductions, not only as containing much that is good, however it, may be mixed with that which is bad, but as showing the individuality and appropriate doctrines of the man. · Iu 1834 Carlyle took up bid residence in London. But London had no chat·ms for him, and what place con Id have? for his stomach, his stomach, his stomach, gave him no pleasure in place, person, or thing. And as is the case with every dyspeptic, he had his moods. At one time he would see pleasure in living, and reading, and writing; at another he would take his seat undet· the "juniper-tree" and snap at every passer-by. Now, his wife was the darling of his heart ; now he could write of her, perhaps after some unpleasant renconfre in which he came out beat but one, "She has a tongue like a cat, that can take the ~kin off at a touch." He was a man of ambition, and yet he coulJ say in his deeply darkly blne moments, " Trnly all human things, fames, pt·om1tion, pleasures, propensities, seem to me inexpressibly contemptible at time.,." His diary, which of course more than anything else he wrote showo his personality, betrays all through that C:1rlyle did not enjoy living, and gives evidenc e that a fierce battle was constantly going on with deep despondency.

lUOHJfOND COLLEGE 1,fESSENGEE.

Mr. Emerson, whom he had previously met, and with whom he formed qu:te :rn attachment, finding that Carlyle was not as '3nccessful in his litera1·y undertakings as he deserved, insisted that he should move to America. Carlyle was greatly tempted to do so, and it is thought that his decision would have bee;i for " the land of the free," but for the remarkable fondness which all through his life he showed for his aged mothe1·. Emerson estimated Carlyle's genius very highly, and seemed proud of his friend~hip; and Carlyle thought much of Emerson, but it would seem considered his power s.omewhat overrate :!. He says of Emm·son : "I have seen men of far less power, with far greater insight into rnligious truth." Among his minor works are the life of his friend Sterling, in w liich he r;hows his gentler nature; the Life of Cromwell, and of Schiller, and an essay on the "Past and Present." His volume of Essays, which his friend Emerson edited and introduced into America, contains many excellent sketches. That on Jean Paul Frederick Richter is one of the most elaborate. Carlyle had a high opinion of Ricl1ter, and quotes !;im again and again. The essay on Bt1rns, for whom he had the highest regard, i,, for Mr. Carlyle particularly smooth and happy in its style. His e:lsays on Goethe, Werner, and on German L:terature show what an estimate he put 011 Germans, and all that was Germ :m. In fact, he admitted that his meeting with Goethe and the reading of his works were truly the making of him.

In 1852, after long and laborious effort, he issued the greatest work of his life,

"Frederick the Great." In style this is far more pleasing and readable than his other great work on the French Re,·olutiau, though perhaps the former does not show that system or completeness of plan that characterizes the latter. He took great pains in ordrr In collect his material, and spent much timt' in Germany, that he might know tl1e truth, nn<l write only what coulll be proven. As a historian, Carlyle wrote what he believed to be true, without fear or favor. His cry was for "Fact, Fact-Truth, Truth." He liad his farnritt's, but he was not a man to sugar-coilt them. There were those who were not his favorites, ybt, if there was good in them, he saw it. Strange to i,ay he had no love for Scott, Gibbon, Bacon, l\Iclutosh, Jeffrey. Maculey he thought conceited, pedantic, but he was an ardent admirer of Goethe, Burns, Sch ill er, Richter, Ruskin. And of Americans he thought , Benj. Franklin the greatest. He was an incessant reader. Ile read e,·erything on every i,ubjed in almost every tongue. When he wished to acquaint himself with a given subject, he was not content until he had read everythiug that was to be had bearing on it. One day, it is said, when he desired to write on u certain theme, he went to one of the large libraries in London, asking for a few books bearing on the subject; he returned with a loa<lc<l wagon of books that perhaps for ages had not seen the free sunlight-it was his ide1 of a few books. If" reading maketh a full man and writing an exact man," then Carlyle was both full and exact, whatever we may eay as to the other side of Bacon's trilateral epigram. But it is said he was u most delightfnl con~ersationulist in his

CARLYLE. best moments, though it was not always rasy to draw him out. As a writer, Carlyle was at his best when attempting description. In it he is fresh anrl animated, and some of his prose is quite poetic. With poetry as such, as we have seen, Carlyle failed. For he thought that a poet shou l<lturn his attention toward the interpretation of fact, rather than the c1·eation of a fiction. Carlyle has little creative genius. His distaste for fiction rnay be attril,ntrd both to his cc'luc:ition and a uatural inlicritanl'e. For, when a boy, his father, a singularly stern anc'I matter-of-fact gentleman, one day saw him with a novel in his hand, for whi<1h Tom received the sharp rebuke, "Put up that paek of lies." He says, " I ,yould rather have written those pages in Goethe's \Vil helm Meister about the 'Three Re,·erences,' than all the novels that have appeared in my day." Carlyle expressed his opinions fiercely and scornfully. He often offtm<lrd, but if any cared for that it was not Carlyle. His natural tendencies to be harsh and critical grew on him as hisyea1·s inereased. As to stylr, Carlyle paid very little attention to the way he wrote, if only he could make kno1vn what he believed to be true. Style was to him a mere outward shell that meant nothing. If he was a diamond, it was merely in the rough. What he was not naturally he was not at all, and did not care to be. Not that he failed to recognize that his sty le was not a desi ruble one, not that he did not more than once grieve that it was no better; yet style was secondary. He utterly det(lsted all that was merely outward. He loved truth and hated a sham. He thought a bare fact in ho~espun was far better than rare fiction or .fine fancy

in gaudy habilamcnts; and so spent all pains in investigating truth, and he never stopped till he got down to the bottom rock. All(! "at bottom" is one of his favorite expressions. As Froude says, "Dig where you will in Carlyle's writings, you never come to water." But as to style there is throughout his writings "a strong indifference"; often his roughness grates npon the feelings, am! at times his style runs like a tumbrel cart of cobble-stones rnmbling o,·er other horribly rough cobble-stones. But he is not always nor generally so, but is too often so. \Ve shonhl remern bcr, however, that his style-in .harmonious, rough-hewn, and savage-was but a reflex of the man. Naturally fretful, unusually dyspeptic, he would at time ,, become weary, souranc'I wrote as he felt. Just after he had fini ;bed one of his most laborious works, as he wrote the la,t word, he said, almost in despair, "Go, .thou unhappy book, thou hast wrung the life out of me; go, in God's name, or the Devil's." Often he was like tbe spurting of volcanic fire, with now and then a flash of humor. , His descriptions are fine. Even in the midst of passion, some beautiful things appear. As Macaulay said of another, "the myrtle anc'I the ros/3 could bloom unchille<l on the verge of the avalanche." · One is strnck with the preponderance of Anglo-Saxon word;; he u,;ed as compaml with those of Latin origin. In fact, Carlyle, in vocabulary and syntax as well us in taste, \fas German; and thns in many c~1seshe puts himself out of accord with the geni_us of the bc,;t English. We should not be harsh in judging Cal'lyle. He wus decidedly a man "of his own kind." Not all his peculiarities should be attributed to whims of mind

idOHMOND

COLLEGE MESS.B.1.VGER.

but rather to caprices of stomcwh. He had said early in life that hut for tlyspepsia, he "would snap his finger in the face of all the world." That he ,1·us not always pleasant to his wift·, is no doubt quite trut•, bnt how much may be attribute,! to dyspepsia I will not attempt to sbow. Perhaps his wife's hearl and heart were as caprici,rns as his 3tomach. His best friends found it har<l to serve him. He speut half his life in unjust demand.,, :tll(I the other half in remorse on account of them. Th:.1t he was harsh and severe cannot be questioned. But the man hate<l all insincedty, pomp, and show, a~ well .as religious cant. ]for these lie kul an inborn antipathy; and so it is not surprising that when he was offered elerntion to the peerage, and afterwar<ls a burial in Westminster Abbey, he shoulcl have declined both. Whatever else we deny to Carlyle, we must attribute to him sin-

Choosing

eerily and honesty of purpose. Believing as he did that sincerity is the groundwork and condition not only of originality, but of true greatness, he could hut strive to be sincere. In truth, he pushed this principle too far, in th:.1t he often attributed virtue to falsity, because its advol'ates seemed to be sincere. Carlyle was in the main the ' same tht·oughont his life. Not anxious to pry into the unknown nn<l unknowable, not fond of specnlation, nllr <lid he pretend to have solve<l great problems, but he was a close observer of problems already sol\'ed, and he cli,·cd deep into their meaning. In the ye:.1r1882, at the age of eightyfive, there passel! away one of the most sincGre, con,;istent, pe<'vish, ascetic geniuses of the age. I woultl call him the modern "Diogenes the Cynic," who went abont in the day-time, wilh his lantern, in quest of an honc.:.;tman, h11tfound him not.

n Prof'ession.

Few questions of g1·eatei· importance are presented to young men For consideration. What avocations are best suited to cel·tain inrlivicluals ·may be a question for the specialist to ponder. Fot· what occupation am I best suited, and to what ealling in life do my talents seem to point as best calculated for rue to fill, are questions for every young man to look at in every possible light before a final conclusion is reache1l. It is a lamentable fact that many of the avocations of mankind are burdened with men who have been pushed into them, so to speak, by mere circumstances of light importance, 01· else

they arc filled by 111enwho just drift into them without any consideration at all of the important question. Frequently young men, by the influence of fond Jl:.1rents, are in<luce<l to enter calling;; in lifo for wliich they have no taste, nor inclination, nor talents. Thus the doting mother has her favorite preacher, and he1· boy is constantly persuaded to take as his mo.lei the said. preacher, al1<1it is whiopercd to him what a joy it woul<l be to mother for him to be such a man. The proud father hus liis favorite physician or lawyer, and the praises of such a11 one arc sung to the y(lung man until the

CHOOSING A PROFESSION calling is investee! with n fascination that renders action less akin to reason than to infatuation. The young man himself may see 01· hear some distingui~hcd man, and from the trifling fact that he has great admiration fo1· the man may deci<lc on his life's course for no other reason. While this i~ obvious] y the case, it does not require a second thought to see the folly and absurcHty of such a course. By careful observation on the part of parents certain traits of character un<l disposition may be note<l in a child of very tender years. Thus it may be noted that one chihl seems to reach a concluf;ion, as it were, by magic, without even seeming to be conscious of any mental action, while another seems to expend an enormous amount of mental energy. Shall the father choose such a calling for the latter as may require rapid thought . and quick conclusious as in the case of sudden emergency? And must the child with a quick ~ierception be advised to follow some calling which requires long and lnborious thought? A boy will show a fondness for certain things at a very early age. It may ue noted that one child is passionately .fond of horses, and will s;ieud hours in riding an imaginary horse made from a stick, while he is neYe1· so happy as when allowed to take the rci ns in his hands. Shall such a boy he sent off to a business college and rer.c;,·e a mcrcau,tilc education with a view of entering the calling of a merchant? One child is noticed to be passionately fo,,d ofrt'a1ling, and may be found with a book or paper in his hnnd m•rirly all the tim i ; another is fond of using tools. Shall the boy who is fonrl of books be advised to enter the c1111i11gof a carpenter, while the one with a lo\'e for tools be made to enter

the calling of a lawyer 01· divine? Thns we may safely concluclc that one of the Vt'ry first thinga lo considt'r when we are choosing a profl.-"ssionor calling in life is whether we have a fondness for snch work as may be req11ire1l of us. If one does not Joye his work there is l1igh probability that he will nt'glect it and will prom a failure. Another point to be well considered is our mental capacities and inclinations. As mnch as we hate to arlmit the fact, it is nevertheless true that nearly all of us are deficient in some particulat· mental capacity. One of us has a fondness for languages, another fot· mathematics, an<l another for philosophy or physics. 'l'rue is the old maxim-" Many men of many minds." It would be an absurdity for a student who is a specially bright boy in chemistry, and who takes a delight in performing experiments, but who has a hatred for searching out Greek roots or threading the intricate mazes of Latin syntax-it would be the highest absurdity for him to seek to make himself a professor of ancient languages. Again it is well to consider the foelings, as well as the preference, for certain branches of study. If one's feelings are rehellious at the idea of public speaking, how can he c\·cr hope to make a public i-peake1· of any note? If one sickens at the sight of blood, must he take up the calling of a surgeon? Though there are so1;1edisagreeable duties connected with nearly every calling in life, yet there are certain dispositions which seem suited to perform certain cluties. Many men can face a cannon's mouth without a quiver, but they quake :rnd tremble nt a sheet carelessly left on a clothes line. Another point to consider is our physical fitness

RICHMOND

COLLEGE MESSENGER.

for any calling in life. If a mun be small of stature, weak of body, he cannot be fit.tcd for any calling that requires much fatigue, exposure, or bodily exertion. If a man has a weak or harsh voice he can never fill acceptably the position of public speaker. A man who is maimed or deformed can never stand before an audience without exciting in some degree, in some of his hearers, an unpleasant feeling. His language may be beautiful an<l his reasoning perfect, but there is a vague feeling of uneac,iness, of unrest, in the au1lience which it is impossible to overcome. \Ve cannot afford to overlook onr physical adaptability when choosing om· life-work. It is well, too, to consider our tempers before deciding upon our life-work. The quick and impulsive temper is h:1rdly suited to such a calling a-, requires terliou;; an<l laborious work. The quick-tempPr~d man cannot hope to make a good teacher until · he has acquired such c·mtrol o,·er his temper as fe-;vwith such tempers ever attain.

. Many other points should be consi<lci·ed, such as our patience, energy, persc,·erance, and zeal. It is impoi'tant to choose a calling in life as early as practicable, in order to so direct and shape OLtr training as to best fit us for our life-work. But it is equally important to take time for mature consideration. No young mun has a right to- rush headlong into some vocation for which he has no talents, and in which, so far from being useful, he is a burden and a hindrance. Nor hag he a right to neglect the means God has given him by which he may juclge of his fitness to fill any position fill(] to seek to find out by experiment what may be found out by a little reasoningWill we uot be h~ld accountable for snch portions or'om· lives as we may waste in such experiment? Fellow-students, let us pon ,le1· well before we enter into •>ur life-work, in order that we may act well our part, urnl do credit to the work as \\;.ell as gain honor fonr ourselves.

Ron.

Is it True•?

It is, I tJ1iuk, a fact, noticl'd by all ob serving people, that there is more boisterousneas among young laclics in the present age than there was former_ly. At least, older persons say so, and if it be not true, then certainly some of our mothers were very noisy creatures in thei1· early clays. Is it not true that often a single angelic creature in h('r teens will monopolize a whole passenger coach, and can be distinctly heard al,ove the roar and whistle of the loeomotive, oi· about publio gatherings may be heard a great way off an<l recognized by the voice?

Yon nuy even know she is on the gro1111d long before you get there, m· know she is coming long before she arrives, aml certainly when she gets there everybody will know it. We do not wish to be understood as RU) ing that this is true of all, nor, i11clr('dJ of the majority; we are very glud thnt it is riot. But we do say there are numerous instances in which it is true. These things are very often obsen·ed in cases of girls who have been away from the gentle influences of home life, at school or elsewhere. Hence it often hap·

STUDENT

LIFE AT RIOJIJJOND

pens ihat good, sober-sided men and women of the olden time, to whom these characteristics ai·e especially annoying, arc disposed to attribute them to the effects of "education." While we admit that these charistirs oftener app<-'ar among the scmi-educated, still we deny emphatically that eclucation is chargeable with it. Yet we think the causes are not hard to find. Iu the first place we would say the girls are not so much to blame. Much of the fault is tu be found beneath the parental roof. Very often, instead of parents diligently teaching their children modesty and truth, industry arnl economy, morality and piety, and to live fot· a noble purpose in the world, their first lesson is that they are exceedingly pretty and wm1<lerfully smart; which in nine hundred and ninety-nine cases out of every thousand is fut· from being true. We do not belieYe in keeping children hacked, but think they ought to be made something of, and made into something, but not into a r,1ttletrap.

Student

l,if'c

OOLLE'GE.

Again, much of the blame lies at the door of society. The young girl is taught by society in general th;.t she must weed a wide row when she cntet·s, make a great deal of r_ioise,carry on all kinds of flirtations; and, in a word, be as frivolous and giddy as possible in order to gain its recognition. The young lady who soberly and modestly pnrs ·ues tl:e even tenor of her way; who has not read the latest novels and attended the latest theatricals; who does not engage in th'3 fashionable dance, the latest from Paris or some place worse, does not gather around her a large host of light-headed admirers. If her conversation is intelligent and refined instead of a conglomeration of nonsense, she must take a back scat; she is not charming and captiv .atiug. Thus her natural desire to be popular and admired induces her to meet tho demands of society. While it is a fact that the level-heade<l, good and true admire the natural womanly grace, beauty, an<l modesty, it is also a fact that the levelheaded are sadly in the minority. 1\1.

at R.ic!a111011.cl College.

,i ust within the western limits of the eapital city of Virginia stands Richmond College. The main building is sitnated in the centre ofa cam~\USof thirteen acres, which very gently slo?es away in all directions. Bes1des the main building there are on the campus a spacious <lining-hnll, with which is connected a gymnasium, two cottage::; containing dormitories, and two professors' resideuces. The main building has turned its back on the setting sun and keeps its face

turned towards the busy city. It s left wing is principally taken up with <lormitories. In the right ,ring arc the Library, Art Halls, and Librarian's offices, while in the central portion of the building, baginning with the grouncl floor, we haYe the Chapel, Lecture-rooms, Society Hall, and Fraternity rooms. Such i,: rough outlin e is the place where every year 11carly one hundred and twenty young men ( we oxcln<lo, of course, the students from the city,) speml nine

RIOI -LWOND COLLEGE JfESSENGER.

are only a friendly greeting. They are a months in the obvious pursuit of knowledge. The large majority of the students great help in m:iking the Rat acquainted am from Virginia, but every session with !:is fellow-students. The ice of a formal introduction is never allowecl to .. there is quite a sprinkling from / other ~outhern States, and occasion;Jiy a few form, and consequently never has to be broken. In a few days we fine! our new New Yorkers and Pemisylvanians. Supstudent snugly enscon °ed in his "nrst," pose we board an incoming train as it and trying to put on a bold front. Most nears the city on a balmy night about of his kind maintain a reserved silence September 24th, bearing among its pasand keep their eyes open; bnt some unsengers a youth from a neighboring State fortunate fellows, who have taken up the irho is bound for Richmond College. idea that they will be more highly thought The train stops, and the young man steps of on that account, air their past achieveoff. If be is an old student he asks nobody ments and announce what they expect to any questions, but in car, or omnibus, or on foot, makes directly . for the colleg!:', accomplish in the future. This latter class are quite certain to fall a victim to the about two miles distant. But we will suppose be is a new comer. He must ·1 dtsigns of a self-constituted, unknown body of old students, who, in student then go to a hotel and postpone his parlance, arc known ·as " toe-pullers." search for the college until the morrow. This ie the last remnant of the barbaric Next morning, in answer to his inquiries and rapidly-vanishing custom of hazing about the college, the porter will probawhich sometimes in the past found a· bly tell him that he never heard of such a place as, Richmond College. He will lodgment at Richmond College. The go out on the street, and half the men he selections of this band of" Knights of the meets will make him the same reply, Dark Lantern" are usually so apprountil he has serious fear that he is mispriate, and the lesson thus taught so taken in the place, or that Richmond effectual, that we could almost forgive Colloge is a paper myth. This is a surthe transgressors. But the distinctions prising and humiliating fact, but it between "rat" and old students are fast being abolished, and it will not be long should be still more humiliating to the before the rat may lie down t~ sleep in citizens of Richmond. the same peace and immunity which he Finally, however, he will find some now begrudges his neighbor whose ratone better informed, and will at last reach hood days are over. the desired spot. As he nears the grounds The wheels of college machinery have the size and gray solemnity of the buildings awe and impress him anew with the now began to move, a11d our student is becoming acclimated and adjusted to his responsibilities and possibilities of college life. He remembers how he promised new surroundings. He has met most of the boys, has attended the reunions of his parents that he would study and be an honor to the college and to them. But the Literary Societies, and has probably soon his reveries are broken into and joined one of them. If he is of a certain stripe he has also probably been asked to banished by the loud and long-drawn-out cries of Rat, R-r-r-a-a-t. But these cries join one of the Fri!ternitiee, of which q nite.-

SJ1rJDENT LIFE

AT RICHJJfOND COLLEGE.

a number have ehapters here. A stranger chancing to meet our new student on the campus nowÂˇcould not distinguish him from a Senior, and might compliment him by inquiring how many sessions he had attetllled the college. Since our protege has been assimilated into in the general body of students, we will now leave him, and look now at speeial types, now at the mass. Suppose we try and ascertain bow an avernge student spends an ordinary day. . We arc not early risers here. Many of us spend the whole session without ever seeing ths sun rise, unless, perchance, it be when our fears of an examination cause sleep to forsake our eyes. The great majority lie abed until the ringing of the rising-bell at 7:30 A. M. A hurried toilet is made, and generally our average student ruehes off to the chapel to attend morning prayers at 7:45 A. M. Attendance on worship is not compulsory at Richmond College. It has been found by long experience that such regulations are irksome and unproductive of the desired and ob\'ious ends. In the chapel we find quite a large_ proportion of the resident studenti!, even when the weather is unfavorable. A hymn is sung, a portion of Scriptme read by the Chairman of the Faculty, an,! a prayer is offered, usually by one of the students. The meeting continues only fifteen minutes, but is marked throughout by the strictest decorum, and the earnest, attentive counten:mces prO\'e conclnsivcly that morning prayers at Richmond College is more than a name. From prayers we go to breakfast. If we follow the crowJ we will enter a handsome, commodious building, immccliately in rear of the main edifice, which

is known in common parlance as the "mess-hall." This name is the last remaining ve,,tige of an unsightly structure dating back to the Revolution, which hjs been removed, but which was sÂˇo tenderly enshrined in the hearts of the boys that they instinctively christened the new establishment with the uninviting name of the old. But the unsavory name finds no counterpart in the neatly kept dininghall into which we are ushered. The tables seat seven or eight persons each, and are provided with un abundance of wholesome food, at the cost of about $10 per month per capita. In the immediate vicinity of the college are three or four boarding-houses, which, by offering various inducements, obtain from three to twenty boarder::1. Breakfast is quickly dispatched, for students here as elsewhere rarely learn to eat as slowly as they ought. ?,'hey will rm1h through their meals as if they expected a train to leave them, and with the last mouthful still in their throat will lounge in the halls and talk. There is not much time for talking, however, for the recitation bell rings at 8:45 A. M., and from this time until 3:10 J:l.M. ite recurring peal means lecture-rooms and lessons. The quiet which reigns during this time is rarely distmbed except by the tread of students passing _from one class-room to another, or the book applause which in some lecture-rooms greets a prnfessor's sally or a student's ,vit. When not in class the studen~ remain in their rooms, and as visiting from room to room during the time covered by the sche<lule of recitation~ is prohibiteJ by the regulations, this time is usually spent in recitation and the preparation of lessons. Some of the boarding-houses furnish dinner from

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lllCH!YlONlJ COLLEGE JyfESSENGER.

1:30 to 3:15 P. M., but recitations contitrnc uninterruptedly until 3:10 P. M., at which tim e the bell rings for dinner at the only boarding place recognized by the collegc-i. c , the " Mess-Hall." DinneLÂˇ over, the students sr,atter in various quart ers. P erhaps in its season foot-ball count s more devotees than any other sport; yet tennis and croquet find sufficient ad mirers to keep several courts and sets in con11tant use for the greater part of the year. There is an athletic association at college, and under its fostering care the interest in athletics has risen considerably. With our ne\'rgymnasium, which will sportly be fitted up with improved apparatus for physical development, '"ideiÂˇ opportunities for physical culture will be afforded. Some of us derive our exercise from long walks in the afternoon, and recently several young men have been boasting that their excursions afoot would compare favorably in speed and distance with the traditional pedestrian tolll's of students in English universities. There are still a few among us who persist in devoting all their time to mental culture and pay no regard to the needs of their physical man, but their number is happily diminishing. Broad er views are being disseminated, and the whole atmosphere of the college is unfavorable to the growth of that pale, shrunken, bent shadow of humanity which in days gone by announced himself by his looks to be a student in some high-grade institution of learning. Young men are taught when they come here that they can do better work and more of it if they will exercise three hours and study five, than if they spent the whole eight hour s in i=: tud y ancl devoted no time to

bodily exercise. By 6:00 P. M. the football ground, the tennis-courts, and genera1ly, butnotalways, the croquet ground, are all deserted. The lighted windows and the quiet that pervades the campu s indicate that the hour before supper is being devoted to study, and we woul<l not be wrong in such a conclu sion. At 7 P. M. the bell rings for supper, fl llll by 7:30 P. M . supper is oveL' and forgotten. Very often in former sessions, but less frequently of lute., there would be, immediately after supper, quite a concourse assembled in one of the hallways of the main building to sing college songs. These are sung with great :rnimation and gayety for the space of half an hour, and put to flight all thoughts of study )n that vicinity for the time being. By8 P. M. all is quiet l!.gaiu. Frnm this time until near midnight the students. _ remain in their own rooms or divide into small groups for study. The lights begin to disappear about 10 P. M., and by 1 A. M. they are all extinguished. Richmond College is asleep after an arduous day's labor. The near approach of Christmas or some]other holiday may so stir the spirits of some that they can no longer retrain their feelings, and then the hard-earned rest of the student will be broken by the sound of a tin horn or the cxplpsion;of ( :large ~ kind ~.of popcracker, known as a " baby-waker." ;,But these are rare occasions. The so-called "fun" of college~students, ;which_i1as)o often culminated in serious and mueh)Âˇegretted consequences, finds no place here. In the march of progres s :it ha.. been worn off or has lagged behin d. Thus we have attempte d to portray, without embellishment, th e event s of an ordinary day in the orde r of their oc-

Sl 1UDEN1' LIFE A1' RICHMOND cnrrencc. Let us take a hasty survey. The regard of the students for religions things is noteworthy. It has not been a decade since a professor was waited on by a body of Christian students and req uestecl to be present at their prayermeetings in order to prevent the funmaking and confusion created by irreligious students. This is all chinged now. Perhaps we would not h:1ve to search fu.r for the causes, but, be that as it may, the change is marked, and has become a featn re of the institution. The weekly prayer-meeting and the monthly meeting of the Young Men's Christian Association arc well attencled and supported. If there is a single student who does not regularly attend religious worship on the Lord's day we ha,·e not heard of it. Fully half of the stud~ts are engaged in ' religious work on this day. The teachers at the State penitentiary, the city almshouse, and at many mission stations are drawn la1·gely from the college. The social side of the student':,; life here is meagre in its details. The students are generally me::i of small means, earned in many cases by thcit· own exertions, and they feel that they have no time to divert their mind from what is uppermost in theit· thoughts--the attainment of an education. The consequence is that many students spent! whole ses8ions without ever once "taking calico," which being interpreted means calling on a young lad):, This course undoubtedly has obvious disadvantages, but its adherents contend strongly for the ad vantages which it affords them. But it must not be inferred that the cha l'ms of the fair sex are wholly disregarded by our students. Some there arc among us who allow thcmsel · cs lo be, so ensnared by

UOLLEGE.

Ric:1mond's fair daughte1·s that their studies suffer woefully. We have not yet reaehe<l the golden mean, but we hope th:it each session with its accumulated memories and experiences • brings us nearer the desired goal. Another impr)l'tant facto1· in this phase of our life is the influence of the literary soe1et1ca. Their importance is not fully 1·ealized, and they do not receive the support they so richly deserve. The disregard for form and ceremony which is the boast of the college man of to-day is here put aside for awhile, while in om· bci;t clothes, we decorously listen to or parl icipatc in the literary exercises of the evening. Only about half the students are members of the societies, and even these fail to enter heartily into the work. It has been the custom of the two societies for each to have a public debate at some time during the session. These ha\'c al ways been very 111uch enjoyed 011 account of their social as well as their literary feature. Tbey affor<l an opportunity fo1· the loving swain to promenade the halls with his best gid on his arm, while he enjoy'3 the envy of his less fortun1te fellows who can only look on as he goes by. But the average student does not long and pine for much company besides that of his fcllow:3. He hatl rather hear au i nvitation ''to come and go over to 'The Madam',;' "-a confectionery an.I notion store much patt·onized by the students-than to receive an invitation to dine out. Occasionally the pocket of the one who "sets up " can affor<I to take his friends to Antoni's or Pizzini's, but these occasions are not common. \Ye are not.given to lavish expenditure, either for ourselves or our friends.

RICHMOND COLLEGE MESSENGkH A featme of our life here which cannot be overlooked is the free and easy intercourse between professor and student. Our professors sow the seed of this desirable state · of things on their first acq uaintancc with the students in their professorial capacity, and by their manifest · interest in his welfare promote the growth and development of this feeling. We know of no institution where the student feels freer to go to the professor and tell him his troubles a.nd ask his advice. Aud he al ways find:1 a kind reception and a ready eympathr. At various times during tlrn session we are treatecl to lectures on Biblical and secular topic,;, which form pleasant breaks in the routine ·of cldss-room work. At rare intervals excursions are made to points of interest in the adjacent counties or cities. These about make up the list of interruptions which enliven om· life here. Of course commencement is here, as elsewhere, the greatest social and literary event of the year. B11t there is_ very little difference between its celebra-

l,he1·a1•y

Westminster Abbey is, perhaps, the most interesting place in the world to a man of refined and cultured tastes; it is interesting for its classic beauty, for its romantic history, and most of all for the <lust of the honored dead which it contains. It is a solemn and suggestive tliought that there all 'round you lie those who have done so much to fill up the record of the world's history, and that under your very feet lie the kings aml conquerors of past nge~, who luwc l:.tid clown their royal

tion here and elsewhere, and who has not read accounts of commencement exercises until they form an old an,l familiar story? A considerable amount of reacling and some literary work is done by the students here. A magnificent library is at their command, arnl s·>llle make good use of it. But the prevailing aim here is exc~llence in the work done in the several school,;. The average student makes everything subordinate to succes~ in his studies. · He feels that societies may go, social pleasures may go, even the library with its advantage. • may go, but that he must stand well in his classes and make his examinations. 'l'hesc examinations are very difficult, and req,1irc earnest, selfreliant labor, but the large majority of students are generally succe3sful. The glory of Richmontl' College arnl her stu- 1 cleats is het· unparalleled class-roo~ work, and to all who at·e longing for more light, and arc willing to w1H•kfor it, she extend,; a hearty welcome.

F. T.

WnoRIGAB.

Fain••·

sceptres forever, and have fallen at last before that conqucrot· who is the King of conquerors. But the spot which is most internsting, which awakens feelings of most reverence, which is most lovingly sought, and most regretfully left, is the 1·enowne~lPoet's Corner. For here rests those whoM thoughts are as dear and as familiar to us as our own, whose example has been to ns an inspirntion, am{ iu whose words we have often found comfort in times of trouble, until we have

LITERARY learned to love them through their works, nncl to look upon them nl most as upon our own personal friends. As it is in Westminster Ahbey, so it seems to be the wod(l onr, that th(!lsc men are most and best remembered who are remembered for their writings, and who ha,·e written fol', and in uccordance witli, human nature. Some men are remembered for their mighty conquests and successes in war, snch as Alexander, Richard I., Napoleon : we are excite(] to admiration by their deeds of heroic valor, and can never cease to wonder at the magnitude of their attainments. Y ct the interest which we feel in their Ii ves and achievements is nenr personal, but is like that excited by some old romance, or tale of chi\•alric valor o_f which these old kings and generals are the heroes. For the causes for which they fought harn become things of the past, the natious which they reprcsentetl have either changed or passed away, and the banners which they upheld have crumbled to the <lust. We know that these men have existed, because we have read of them in history, yet we can never truly sympathize with them in their lives and thei1· accomplishments. For while we may like to discuss their exploits, and to meditate upon their greatness, it is difficult for us to realize that they who seem so far removed from us by w½at is called the dignity of history, had the same faults, the same weaknesses, the same <lesirnsand disappointments as oursel\'es. In history we are prone to regard men and events as things unreal, or at least of no importance to us, yet, rising up through the dim , mists of past ages, we may see these deathless names and may learn the stories of the$e great events; but along with the

FkME.

name of Hannilml we may behold that of Hercules, and with the Burning of Rome appears the Siege am! Fall of Troy; for none o(thcsc arc known to us except as we rear! of them in history, and there, how arc we to discriminate between the true and the false? for to us Hercules seems as rral a character as Hannibal, and Troy as real a city as Rome. We arc told that the story of Troy is a fable, and that Hercules existed only in the minds of men, but, without the testimony of history, might we not as easily doubt the existence of Alexander, or refuse to believe that Julius Cresar conquered Gaul, or that the infamous Nero, having himself applied the torch, feasted his gl'eedy eyes with delight and exultation upon the flames of the Eternal Oity? How different is it with the kings and leade1·s in the world of Letters ! Theirs is not an unreal immortality; it is not thei1· names alone, but themselveswhich are remembered. Who of ns can feel that we are acquainted with Napoleon, though he lias not yet been <lead a hundred years? While nearly twenty centuries have elapseclE:incetheeloquence of Cicero thrilled the hearts of the Roman people, yet· his works are as familiar, and his thoughts as much appreciated to-clay, as though he had died but yesterday. The world has changed since the Old Blind Poet laid down his pen forever, but the world still delights to mad his works, and to ben<l a reverential ear to his tale of" man's first disobedience." Science may have advanced, human knowledge may have increased, nations and national custom~ may have changed; but human nature is changeless and unchangeable, everywhere and forever the same. We feel that we are

l(J

RICHMOND COLLEGE MESSENGER.

greater l.ieings than were the ancient Greeki-, all(l that we have far surpasse<l any greatness to which the Romans may have attained. Y ct their poets and philosophers un<lerstoo<l the passions of the human heart as well as we, and their thoughts are as true and as applicable to us a3 they were to them. So we can always sympathize 1vith an author when we see the feelings of his heart displayed in his writings, whether he he living now or died a thousand years ago. e rejoice with Cicero in his Sabine villa, we weep with Virgil in his lament for the young l\Iarcellus. It seems to be a part of the vanity of man's natnre to desire to be remembered, and the human mind recoils with a feeling of aversion and horror from the thought of a nameless a11dforgotten grave. We are told that this feeling was so strong in the heart of an ancient Sanskrit king, fearing lest his greatnes9 be forgotten, that he crccte,l eighty thousand monuments to his own memory. But to no avail, for his fears ha,·e been realizedthe world has forgotten him, and his very

EDITORIAL Th ere has been a great deal written in the colu nrns oftheMessen_rr1· about the "science of teaching," but very little sairl about the art of studying. Perhaps thi s is the reason that the students, antl not the professor s, do most of the writing for our columns, and of course the students know a good deal more about teaching than they do about studying (?). Howe,·er that may be, there is no question that of

name is now lost. In a London gra\'eyard lies a bro irnn and neglected tombstone, upon who se snrfacc is inscribed these words: "To P.irpcluate the Memory of"-. In vain! The rest of the stone i-, broken and lost, and thu s again has pe~·ished a name which some vaiu creature thought to make immortal. The ancient Egyptians hoped to preserve their bo<lies by means of spices and the chemist's art, but their succees has only been partial, for they arc now but shriYclled and blackened lumps of clay. But how is it with the true poet or philosopher? He needs no Parian marble to mark his greatness-no mighty pyramid to perpetuate his name. He lives on forever in his works, and, unaltered by time 1 his thoughts come down to us in the freshness of their youth, thoug:h a thousand yeara may have rolled away since perished the mind that gave them birth. His memory shall forever withstand the ravages of time, and the brightness of his name shall be ne\'er dimmed, but rather increased in splend01· and intensity by the lapse of years. RAT.

DEPARTMENT. the two, studying is far more important; for all the teaching in · the world won't teach a man anything unless it is accompanied with study. The first requisite to successful stndy is a desire to loam. Man, as a general thing, d,Je.3 \vhat he desit·es to do,and leaves undone the things that he does not ,1esirc to do. This is proven beyond a doubt' in the case of the loafer: he does not desire to study,

1.-D ITO RIAL DEPARTMENT. and therefore not only does not study himself, but so far as in his power lies, keeps others from this disagreeable drudge ; and in so doing he confers the greatest benediction upon his fellow student (as he thinks). You can't make a man sturly \\'hether he desires or not; the . old idea of beating things into a youth's head has long since been given up as absurd. The next requisite to success in the field of knowledge, as in almost everything else, is will. Many men desire to do things, and build aircastles as high as heann about what they are going to do; but the "going" is all, for lacking will to support them, they all tumble to earth again. Desire is the steam; will, the fire ; and so soon as the fire dies out, the steam does too, and the locomotive stops. Will is necessary to attention, which is so indispensable to study. If a mm is going to do any etudying to amount to anything, his whole attention must be absorbed by the object of his study. The student that sits down to study and lets his mind wander off on the " image of his grandmother," will deri\'€ but little profit; and he who in his hours of study, permits his thoughts to be about the fair one far away, may gain that fair one, but stands a slim chance of ever getting the blue ribbon and the sheep-skin. The profit derived from study is in proportion to the amount of attention exercised; so then our thoughts should be concentrated as much as possible in the hour for study, and set free to rove - wherever they will in the hour for recreation. It is one thing to desire to do a thing, and quite another thing to ).Vill to do it; but when both go hand in h:ind it is almost sure to be done; and the man that. both wills and

desires to study will be a successful student. We were glad to hear the very encouraging reports of our delegates sent to the Inter-Collegiate Y. M. C. A. conference, held in Salem with Roanoke College. They report a large attendance and a very interesting and inspiring series of meetings. Mr. Wishard, the national secretary, has a strong army for Christ in the members of Y. M. C. A.'s in Virginia colleges, and from all accounts he proves to be a general eminently qualified to lead it. We are almost selfish enough to wish he could give us all his time, for under him, with Divine help, we believe we could make mighty conquests in the name of the Lord of Hosts. · We do Mt forget, however, to pay a just tribute to Mr. WiAhard's right-hand man in Virginia, Mr. H. 0. Williams, our State secretary. This gentleman has shown himself an able organizer and leader since he has been among us, and we hail his visits to our association with delight. His presence -in Salem contributed largely to the success and enjoyment of the Conference. We trust that these annual conventions will continue to inc1·ease in interest and power as they are held from time to time. In three years they seem to ha,·e tt1ken deep root, and the good resulting therefrom no mind on earth can estimate. It is a grand fact that in every college in. Virginia, and in near! y every male boarding school, there is a Y. 1\1.C. A. Their powe1· over the students within their reach is probably greater, and is certainly more helpful than any other organization connected with their instiLu-

RICHMOND COLLEGE MESSENG~l!JR.

tion. But many of these associations are young, and from other causes they need encouragement and stimulus to active work. These helps are furnished in a great measure by attendance through proper representatives upon these conferences. .At these meetings are discussed topics of this character: Methods for individual Cristian work among fellow-students ;, methods for and advantages in organizing Bible-training classes among Christian students, etc. And these discussions, attended by earnest prayer to God for a blessing through them, prove very helpful to all who attend. Oh, that the day may soon come when the colleges of our land shall be noted for the religious zeal of their students ! In our humble judgment we have every right to hope that the tide is bearing in that direction. Fellow-students, brethren in Christ, let us wipe out the brand upl)ll our colleges that they are haunts to vice and roads to dissipation. If they have ever deserved the stigma, they have borne it long enough. Let the colleges and the students of our country be for Christ. Roanoke College will permit us to take this medium of congratulating its Young Men's Christian Association upon the success of the conference held there, and also of thanking them for their hospitable entertainment of our delegates. We hope that Mr. Wishard will turn his attention to Richmond College when be is considering the next place to hold the conference. We do not believe that it is literally true that "this life is what we make it," for God, in his wisdom, has seen good to place human happiness and misery, to

Rome extent at least, within the hands of others. Nevertheless it is true that our future lives depend largely upon the nature and success of our efforts now. \Ve often wonder whether as students we realize, in all its serion ,mess, the fact that we are now shaping our future. Experience has proved that in the great majority of cases a man carries through life the same character with which he quits bis college career. If there he cultivates habits of exact honesty, diligence, refinement, and order in all things, in after life he will be successful in business, respected and honored by all, and his cup of human enjoyment will be full. On the other hand, if, during his college course a young man indulges in dishonest schemes, wastes his time in idleness, is coarse and rough in his manners, and observes no order in his studies or elsewhere, in life he wiHbe a failnre, by good men scorned, and the world will be to him cold and heartless. At no time in life are we more .apt to become careless and irregular in our habits; nor is ther,e a time when there is greater necessity fotÂˇ method and regularity and method in ever)'Lhing. By having a time and place for everything we can do m0re work and better and have much more enjoyment along with it, to say nothing of the incalculable value it will be to us in future years to have learned to be thoroughly methodic. 'l'hen, too, the energy, aspirations, and expectations a young man receives during his college life have much to do with success as a man. We ought; to learn to expect grnat things of ourselves, but be careful not to imagine that we have already attained any great excellence. A man may qim to be Presi-

EJJITORIAL lJEP ARTMENT. dent and fail, but he will be nearer the goal than he who never thought of such an honor. A man with a high aim, even though he fall short of it, is sure to accomplish more and entertain a more worthy opinion of himself than.if he had placed his mark lower and reached it. We may never be Spurgeons, Hales, Henrys, or Howards, but we may make the heights to which these have attained our goal and spend om lives in striving for it. Then let us ai1n high and Etrive patiently to reach our mark. The professors of our college should see that so far as poseible young men be inspired with noble purposes and selfconfidence to work for the accomplishment of these purposes. "Let the ambition be a noble one, and who shall blame it!" Man, ,,e find from the sacred record, was first formed from the dust of the earth. And there is indeed a striking analogy between mankind and mother earth. Or, in other words, there are striking analogies between some parts, or formations of the earth, and between certain individuals. Let us enumerate some of these points of analogy. (1.) There are certain portions of the earth's surface known as quagmires ; full of dampness, malaria, disease and death. They produoe ugly shrubs, and an interlocked and tangled undergrowth. They breed frogs mid reptiles, and all kinds of filth. It is just so with a large element of the human family. Their lives are low, degraded, and repulsive; full of obnoxious and deadly influences. The slimy trail of the serpent of sin in its . darkest colors, and deepest engravings is seen upon the soul. Their infectious

lives are to be shunned. Contact with them is death. Then there are other lives which rise in beauty, in grandeur, and sublimity, like the towering mountains and lofty peaks lifting their proud heads toward the sky, as if to hold communion with "Orion and Pleiades," and, linked to heaven, mingle with the sweet influences and melodies of revolving galaxies. Their mountain grandeur is seen in their natural physique, their bright intellectual powers and literary attainments, in their nobleness of soul, their moral qualities and excellencies, and in their love for spiritual devotion. They tower like mountains above their fellows. Then there are parts of the earth that are rough and rugged ; abrupt elevations and deep dark gullies; rolling surface and wild scenery. So there are many rough, uncultivated lives upon which the ax, the mattock, the plow, and the rolling machine of cultivation and refinement have never been used. They are crooked in their character, unpolished in their manners, and unrefine<l in their tastes. And there are also beautiful plains, inviting fields and charming parks, and corresponding to these are lives which flow along the current of human existence which are broad, smooth, and beautiful. And then there are parts of the earth that are sterile and barren. They produce very little fruit. Their geographical position may he favorable, their situation desirable, theitÂˇ fields smooth and beautiful. And yet they have no capacity for fruit-bearing. So with many lives. They may present commanding personal appearances, possess an air of dignity, have symmetrical and graceful forms, handsome faces, &c., and yet be utterly worth-

.JO

RICHMOND COLLEGE MESSENGER .

less. Their lives produce no fruit. Yea, they never bloom to give indications of hope. Frigid midnight reigns in their souls, gross darkness fills their minds, and sterility of heart renders their lives barren. They do nothing for themselves, nothing for humanity, nothing for God. And there are yet otlwr parts, though rough in outward appearances, it may be, which are abundantly productive and fruitful. Luxuriant growth is seen. The trees, the vines, and the .plants all bend with delicious fruits, and the fields wave with golden gl'ain. The gardens teem with their variegated forms of vegetable life. .And so it is with many Iives. They seem to be enriched in their mental, moral, and spiritual nature. Their eyes seem to ha,Âˇe been given to see, their

SCIENTIFIC THE

MINERAL

,VEALTH

OFSIBERIA.

Referring to the resources of coal and iron in Siberia, a writer in one of our English exchanges says: "It is one of the finest undeveloped countries in the world, and it is really difficult to exaggerate the enormous wealth of this gigantic region. The soil is of almo,t inexhaustibie wealth and the crops magnificent. There is almost no limit to the prnd uction of the laud. The Russians themselves have but an imperfect idea of the immensity of their natural wealth, and other people outside Russia cannot realize it at all. Siberia, so far from being a region of desolation and of death, is a northern Australia, with larger rivers, more ex-

min<J to think, their heart to feel, and their hands to work. They bear much precious fruit. They bless and enrich other lives. Their memory will lie h~ld sacred and their praises sung Ly all generations .â€˘ Then from many of the fields, and gardens, and parks, a sweet aroma ascends upward, and blending with sunshine and breeze, is wafted to other regions. So the prolific influences of some lives are carried as by angels, or heaven commissioned spirits, to blend with the lives of others. The read along which they travel is lighted by sunshine, cheer, and hope. Arni as every creek, river, bay, sea, and ocean reflects the image of the same !:ion,so every pure heart reflects the image of Him who created it out of the dust.

NOTES. tensive forests, and mineral wealth not inferior to that of the island continent. In a very few yeart5 Siberia will be bridged from end to end with railways, and in this matter the Russian government is showing a large and wise policy. The magnificent water communications-for it is irrigated from end to end with some of the largest rivers in the world, navigable for thousands of miles through fertile and richly wooded lands destined to be the home of millions of colonistsand a canal is now being made between the Obi and the Yenisei, which will enable goods to be conveyed by water the whole way from Tiumen to beyond Lake Baikal. At Tiumen there is a railway . which passes through the Ural moun-

SUIENTiFIO NOTES. tains to Ekaterineburg and Perm, through the heart of Lhe richest mining district in western Siber;a.-E-r. An ingenious member of the Engineer Corps has constructed a unique electro-magnet. He has yoked together the trunnions of two Rodman guns and wound them with four miles of condemned torpedo cable. The weight of this magnet exceeds 100,000 lbs. A thirty-horse power dynamo furnishes the magnetizing force to the monster. An armature, six inches in thickness, has been built up of thin plates, and experi- · ments to detet·mine the power of the magnet are in progress. A .five-ton dynamometer fails to registet: sufficient force to detach the armature when the magnet is charged to the full capacity of the dynamo. Two miles of cable are to be added, and largely increased results are expected.

to that of the yellow and greenish yellow rays of the central spectrum. As the temperature rises the light emitted grows yellow, and gives in the spectroscope a wide gray band, whose center is tinged with grayish yellow. At low red, a nan-ow red line appears at one side of this band, and almost at the same time a green band, large and of slight intensity, appears at the other side. The temperature still rising, the spectrum spreads both toward the red and green ends, and M. Weber further ascertained, by means of a thermometric element soldered to the plates, that the first traces of gray light are emitted at a temprrature varying with the nature of the plate, about 396°0. for platinum and 377° for it-on.-Revue Scientifique.

"The American School at Athens has completely unearthed the very ancient EMI8SION OF LIGHT BY SOLID INCAN- and primitive theatre of Thoricos, over against the town and •mines of Laurion, DESCENT BoDrns.-It is generally adbeginning the work in April and conmitted, according to the researches of Draper, that when a solid body is heated · tinuing itin the auU1mn [1886J. This theatre was formed out of the rock of the it begins, at about 525°C., to emit red hillside in the fifth century B. C., and rays, to which are successively added rabears traces of restoration in the third cendiations more and morn refrangible as tury B. C. It had no stage structme of the temperature increases. The invesany kind. The cavea has a peculiar form, tigations of M. Weber have led to difsweeping inward, in a loop to the right, ferent results. as viewed from the proscenium. All the By observing, in an absolutely <lark seats are roughlr cnt in the rock and ro0rn, either an incandescent lamp, exhave no stone facings. A vel'y rude low cited by a current of gradually increas- • retaining-wall divides the cavea from the ing intensity, or plates of different orchestra below, which consisted of a metals heated by a properly adjusted primitive earth floor, and another runs ·Bunsen burner, he found that the emisacross where the stage should be." sion of light begins at a tempemture [Some think the stage was a Roman much below that which we have meninvention, or at least that the chorus in a tioned, with the production of very pale Greek play was on the same level with gray rays, whose refrangibility is equal

RICHMONDCOLLEGE MESSENGE/1. the actors. This discovery may do much towards settling the question]. "Among the discoveries made in the new Street of Tombs in Pompeii are four monuments, on which some interesting inscriptions have been scratched or painted : a notice of a gladiatorial contest to be held at Nola(?); an advertisement of the finding of a horse on Novem_ber25 by Q. Decius Hilarus ; an electoral programme with names of candidates for tribune of the people and duumvir." "The gold fibula (mentioned in a previous number of the Olio,) found near Palistrina has the following inscription scratched (from right to left} in the chan~ nel : manios: med: fhe: fheked: numasioi, that is [fibula loquitur J Manius me fecit Numario, 'Manias made me for Numarius.' As this type of fibula is found only in Italic and Etruscan tombs of the sixth century B. C., the inscription engraved on it is lhe most ancient Latin that is preserved. It demonstrates the truth of Polybias' statement regarding the written treaty between the Romans and the Carthaginians in 509 B. C., which had been doubted on account of the supposed impossibility · that the Latins should then have been sufficiently

A little more than half of the '89 men at Yale are from the States of Connecticut and New York.

acquainted W!th writing: the fibula pro,•es the use of writing at this time even in private life.-Am. Jour. Arch.

A paper of great intere<1tto the scientific world has recently been read before the Royal Society by Professor Lockyer. The paper is entitled the "Spectra of Meteorites," and in it Prof. Lockyer attempts to prove that "all self-luminous bodies in celestial space are niasses of meteoric vapor produced by heat, brought about by the condensation of meteoric swarms, due to gravity." Ir this hypothesis be accepted, the science of astronomy will have to be reconstructed in a great measure. The distiuctions between stars, comets, and nebulre are swept away, and the differences in their spectra attributed solely to differences in temperature. Professor Lockyer illusc trated his point by heating a meteorifragment in a vacuum by an electric current. As the temperature rose, the spectrum of the fragment exhibited the changes referred to in the paper. The high position which Professor Lockyer holds in scientific circles will secure for his theory a respectful hearing.-Ex.

The University of Vermont has 36 ·professors, 347 students, nn,l a libra1·y of about 30,000 volumes.

LOCALS.

LOCALS. O! Three days holiday for Christmas. Our little rat with a White-head, on seeing the local in the November number of the Me,ssenge.r about Cresar and Romeo and Juliet, said, "I did not know Cresar was called Romeo and Juliet before." The following letter was found on the table of one of our rats : Dear Pap: i'm Well. Times is hard. Munny is skace. Please send Sum right Sune. Yore Sonnie,

E. '' Say, J., I've got a good joke to tell you on P. about the feather-wane on the new mess-hall. He saw it the other day for the first time, and said, • Look yonder, 0., they have put a wind-mill in the mess-hall.' Ain't that good? " Jr. II. Latin man translating Jr. I. aentences : "Pue,1·taurum cornibushabebat." " The boy gives corn to the bulls." Mr. H., our Eastern Shore rat, while visiting the Soldiers' Home a few days since, remarked that he wondered where the gymnasium was. It is useles!!Ito add that the gentleman is quite an athlete. Mr. G., one of our country clod-hoppers, was out calling, and taking a seat over a register, said he wondered why it was so hot when there was 110 fire in the room. Perhaps the gentleman's agitation ~lso WijS the cause of his being so

hot. He looks like it would not take much to make him look warm whether he was or not. One of our students is quite given to exaggeration, but sometimes comes down from his first statement. Here is what he said the other day about one of his girls : " Say, boys, she is the prettiest girl I ever saw .-She is a mighty pretty girl.-Now, anyhow, she ain't an ugly girl.-W ell, I know she ain't the ugliest girl I ever saw, anyhO\v." Poor girl! There is a moment when death-like stillness reigns-when all is still and nothing disturba the stillness. One might hear the fall of a pin, the tread of a flea, or the humming of a gnat. Every one is in suspense, and sits and stares with batecl breath. Terrifying terror overspreads their countenances, their eyes are staring, their mouths are half open. " When is this moment?" I seem to hear some one a1k. It is when the Profes!!lorof Philosophy is looking up and down his roll to see whom he shall call on next. Prof. H.-" Mr. W., what ia a patriarch ?" Mr. W.-" One who is i·oyal to his country." Rat: Say, J., I declare these Kindergartens they have up North are wonderful things. They beat ours all to flindera. I wish we could raise thing, in our gardens like th ey do in that kind." The clock-towH on our new building presents four blank faces for the present, as blank as that of a student when un-

RICHMOND COLLEGE MESSENGER. expectedly called on fo1·a recitation he has not prepared. The builder in compassion has done, what many a student has done before, in filling the vacant spaces with circles of painted tin (the student genernlly makes u11eof brass), enough to hide at least the absence of inside works. We are pleased, however, to hear a whisper that one of c;mralumni, who has never yet failed in anything he has attempted, proposes to raise the means, $500 to $1,000, and put a i;,teady-going machine with illuminate<l faces, on which revolving hands will point out the fleeting hours as they pass.

Dr.

W. H.

Carter, of Parkersburg,

W. Va., will deliver the baccalaureate sermon at our commencement. He is quite a distinguished preacher and orator. The Club House, af'te1·many delays, attributed to alterations in plan, adverse weather, failure to meet engagements, and the hundred othm· incidents of builcling, is at last approaching completion. The dining-room, with stained-glass transoms and paneled ceiling, is one of the handsomest in the city. When suitably fitted up with appropriate furniture and tableware it will be a delightful place to build up the wasted energies of a tired brain.

pound of resolution, two ounces of the powder of experience, a large sprig of time, fourteen drachms of the quiet of dishonor, one quart of the gentle fire of love, s,veeten it with the sugar of forgetfulness, skim it with the spoon of melancholy, put it in the bottom of your heart, cork it with the cork of a sound conscience, and then let it remain, and you will easily find ease and be restored to your right senses again. These things are to be found of the apothecary, at the house of Und _erstanding, next door to Reason, in Prudent street, in the parish of Contentment." The young man has not yet tried · it, so we are as yet afraid to recommend it to any love-sick youth in the same condition. Prof. Young, of Pduceton College, recognized on both sides of the Atlantic as one of the world's foremost astronomers, and withal a fine lecturer, has agreed to deliver the course for this session provided by the Thomas Museum Lecture Fund. He will deliver three lectures probably in March, on subjects to be hereafter more spec·ifically announced. These will be open to stu<lents and to as many friends of the College as can be comfortably 3ccommodated.

Aprop03 to the weekly course of lectures by Prof. Harris on the Old TestaOne of our students has recently been ment, which the students of Richmond kicked by his girl. When she heard · College have the privilege of attendiug, how hard he was taking it, with her we are glad to publish the following ·note usual sympathy and kindheartedness she from Prof. William R. Harper. Prof. sent him the following prescription : Harper is well known to our readers as "CURE FOR LOVE. . the directo1· of the Summer School of H Take twelve otlnces of dislike 1 op{) ;Hebrew, which meets at the University

OUR

LETTER BOX.

of Virginia. He is editor of the Old Testament Student, and is the foremost student of the Ohl Testament in America. We are gratified to know that the painstaking labor of love which Prof. Ha1-ris has undertaken in behalf of the students is appreciated by one wbo is an authority on such matters : NEW HAVEN, CONN., Nov. 15, '87. Prof. H. H. Harris, Richmond, Va.: My Dear Sir and Brother : Please accept my thanks for your fa-

vor of November

10th, enclosing · Part I assure you that I appreciate your kindness, and have l>een greatly interested in the plan which you have thus presented. If such work as this could be done in all colleges what a different idea man would have of the Bible and of its claims upon them. Thanking you most heartily, I remain

I. of your Bible Study.

Yours sincerely, \V. R. HARPER.

OUR LE'rTER

BOX.

[Addre s~ all communica t ions to LET'rER-Tiox , Ri chmond Coll ege.]

use. Its meaning is " to stick " someInqtti1'£w.-Tiie object of our Letterthing or somebody. Thi s comes from Eox is to answer all desiring information the use the porcupine makes of his of any so1-twhatever, either psychological, philological, materiological, calicological, quills. ratalogical, 'ological, logical, giral, cal or al. ,ve 1inmber our anxious seekers after · "Ida." -The young gentleman you knowledge by the hundreds, and have refer to is a regular mashe1·. I am sorry to keep our extra force with carts at all you are so deeply impressed. Watch him · mails to receive our letters. No inquirer, closely. For information such as you defrom the one asking how far it was from sire address "Letter-Box. " here to yonder down to the one inquiring what was on the tip end of a mos"Giddy Maiden."-We will not put quito's toe; has ever had to complain that you off any longer. The editor cannot his question was noi. answered sati sfacfavor you with his photograph at prestorily. ent, as his stock is exhausted. They are Come one, come all so much in demand that he cannot · keep Who desire information. a supply on hand. Many thanks for e'll answer you, yours. Or lose our reputation.

" Philologist."--The origin of th e expression "working a quill" is not definitely known. It is supposed to ha ve originated when the toothpi ck came into

"Anni e."-We did not know that the "cheeky" young man mentioned in our . last number has been so general in his desertion of young ladies at a critical moment. The only other incident we

,?6

RIOH_,_WOND OOLLEGE

have heard of was when he took a young lady into an ice-cream saloon and left her to pay the bill.

"Jl,[ay."-The young man whose conceited air you speak of is said to be 1101\r studying astronomy to see if there is not a bigger planet than this that he may go to. This world is not his home. "Buck."-We do not suppose that it is any fault of your own that others have not discovered your moustache, but because they are "more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind." '' Poet."-Poetry is in great demand for our columns. From what you say, however, yours would suit the Detroit F1·eePress better, as onr columns are

11.{ESSENGER.

strictly literary. We would be glad to publish any poetry on "Psychology," "Philosophy of Mathematics," or something similar. "Harvard."-Slang is getting popular among our professors. " That's too thin," and "It gets there all the same," are the latest adopted. It seems, however, to be going out of fashion.

"Epicure."-The season for "punkboxes" has at last arrived. The m_ost of the students have, however, only their coal-boxes to enjoy. · These are ever present with them. "J. JJI.M."-"l

don't exactly understand yonr question. Please state it over again."

PERSONALS. Hon. Samuel B. Witt, B. L., '72, has received the Democratic nomination as Judge of the Hustings Court of Richmond. Nomination is equivalent to election. John Wyatt, M. A., 1883-4; Alfred Bagley, Jr., B. A., of same year, and E. B. Hatcher, M. A., 1884-5, are attending the University of Maryland. Edward Scott, M. A., 1884-5, formerly professor at Doyle's College, Tenn., has now secured the position of Instructor in Modern Languages at Ruston. College, La. This institution em-

ploys six professors, and has enrolled one hundred and seventy students. T. H. Fitzgerald is now pastor of three churches in Monroe county, Va., and also editor of AinendnicntBanner.

,v.

P. F. \Valk~r, 1885-'6, is now engaged in mercantile business at Rock:v Mount, Franklin county, Va. · Geo. Y. Bradley, 1885-'6, is attending Louisville Theological Seminary. John W. Mitchell, . 188-!-'5, is now at Crozier Theological Seminary, Chester,

Pa.

EXOliANG ES.

EXCHANGES We notice an article of some merit in the November issue of E'tponent with reference to an educational qualification for suffrage. While an excellent production in many respects, the argument appears to m, quite faulty. Our understanding of the fifteenth amendment to the Constitution is different from this author. This amendment declares that a man's suffrage shall not be restricted on account of 1Âˇace,color, or previous condition of servitude. A qualification such as he is opposing would not be one limited by the restrictions mentioned in this amendment, and therefore has nothing whatever to do with it. We quote further: "I protest against the idu of prohibiting an illiterate man from voting simply becauee he is illiterate and placing the supreme power of government into the hands of those men that have no practical knowledge, but whose only se11seis to know how to "Mutter the French and splutter the Danish," or consume an entire day at the expense of the people telling why the "Oleomar~arine" bill is inconsistent with the best iuterests of the people." There . can be no doubt that suffrage should not be restricted only to thorn possessing such a magnificent and voluminous education as the one mentioned above. Very few know anything about the "Oleomargarine" bill, and still fewer cnn "mutter French and splutter Danish." "Te never knew before that any one ever entertained such a fanatical and unholy scheme as to restrict suffrage to such a narrow sphere. Our idea was that a much lower standard of education was the one invariably p_roposc<l. Lower

down in his article, he speaks of the South as if she were the ideal of a pure and undefiled republic; whilst thousands in every State Clf the South cannot read a syllable of the English language. Can we approve of such a state of affairs? Can we say that universal suffrage is in harmony with the rule of the majority? Thousands of negroes throughout this State and the South are unlettered aud illiterate. They know nothing of the political state or political rights of the country, but are led to the polls as sheep to their slaughter, pushed on by the intrigue and trickery of diabolical politician s. He sayo "there is nothing difficult in casting a ballot." This is indeed too true, but there is some difficulty in casting an honest and intelligent lmllot. The ballot is the gift of the governmentits highe st, truest gift-and when used by the citizen to the detriment of the nation's good, it is not only the privilege but is the imperati vc duty of the government to withdraw it. That the ballotbox of the country has been imposed upon, doubtlesu no one will venture to deny. The gentleman's argument is fallacious from beginning to end, and could only be endorsed as the negative of a debate. We are pleased to see that our friend across the Blue Ridge, the West Virginia University, has screwed up sufficient courage to undertake the publication and support of a literary journal, The Athenreum. We fully subscribe to the old proverb, " Despi se not little things," and trust that thi s suckling in the lite-

RIGHJJIOND COLLEGE JJIESSENGER. rary world . may soon reach mature life, and aid powerfully in the development of the new, but ambitious commonwealth. We cannot realize how the literary sociHies of an institution calling itself a State univ ersity could have heretofore been so negligent in this line of pursuit. We return thanks to Mr. Edwin Barbour, editor of the Piedmont Advanc e, for a copy of his political journal. We predict success to the gentleman in his enterprise, as we are acquainted with the merits of the editor and his firm devotion t• his political party. \Ve believe that the Local column should be an important factor in all college journals, and for this reason we must criticise the Albany (0.) Gue. Her Local editor must have been drunk last month, or, at least, this department is sadly neglected, covering only one fom'th of a page. Whilst this department may be of Iittle interest to the public, yet to the student, the locals of his journal are always the first perused. The Varsity, published at the University of Toronto, in its issue of Octo-

ber 29th, contains two valuable contributions-one, an address by President Wilson; the other, entitled the "Evolution of Medical Education." The Varsity is our most ably edited Canadian exchange. Sioux Falls (Dale) journals are well. represented at our sanctum. In fact, the whole West seems to be looming up in the literary line. The University ( 0.) Voict, which comes to us weekly, has its columns filled to overflowing with entertaining and instructive matter. Almost every issue contains a sermon by Dr. Talmage, thus adding • omething new to the educational feature of literary journals. The Wabash (Ind.) Jou,mal, especially the November issue, is quite interesting and instru _cti ve. We can recommend for cat·eful peru sal an at'ticle entitled "The Man and the State," indited with considerable wisdom and erudition. The Roanoke Collegian is among our best exchanges. The last issue was very spicy and entertaining.

COLLEGE NEWS . Stephen Girard gave the bulk of his to Girard College. Johns Hopkin s gave $3,000,000 to found the great school that bears his name. Leland Stanford '.gave $10,000,000 for a simi!at· purpose. Ezra Cornell gave $2,5001000 to Cornell Uni versitr,

$7,000,000 estate

Asa Packer gave $3,000,000 to Lehigh University. J.C. Green gave $1,500,000 to Princeton College. Cornelius Vanderbilt ga\'e $1,000,000 to Vanderbilt University. E. Price Greenleaf, of Boston, gave Harvard 3500,000. Jonas Clark, of Worcester, gave ~2,000,000 iQ

COLLEGE NEWS. found a university in that city. W. C. DePauw gave $1,250,000 to a school in Greencastle, Ind. Twenty-six of last year's graduating class at Yale have returned to take postgraduate or professional courses. Cornell University, being established under the land-gr:rnt act, receives $15,000 annually from the Government. The Da1'tmoidh is said to have the largest circulation of any college paperone thousand one hundred copies per issue. One half of one per cent. of the young men of the country are college graduates; 65 per cent. of the presidents of the United States have been college graduates; vice-presidents, 50 per cent.; speakers of House of Re1->resentatives, 50 per cent.; members of the Senate, 46 per cent.; associate justices of the Supreme Court, 73 per cent. ; chief justices, 83 pe1· cent. ; cabinet officers, 54 per cent. Draw your own conclusion as to the value of a college education. Harvard is the largest college in the country, Oberlin second, Columbia third, Michigan fourth, and Yale fifth. It will be remembered that the two institutions, McMaster Baptist College at Toronto, and Woodstock Literary Institute, were consolidated not long before the death of Mr. McMaster, under the title, McMaste1· University. We learn that the will of McMaster bequeathes to the university $800,000. This is in addition to the funds now possessed by the two institutions. Undoubtedly this is the largest single gift to the cause of Christian education ever made by any Baptist. Litera1·y labor pays quite well one would think to judge from the following :

Mrs. Stowe has received $40,000 from the sale of "Uncle Tom's Cabin" alone, to say nothing ot he1· other books. General Wallace has made over $40,000 from the sales of "Ben Hur." Blaine has realized ~200,000 from his "Thirty Years in Congress" and his "Speeches." Henry Ward Beeche1· got $30,000 for ,Vl'iting "Norwood." The College of Mexico, the oldest in America, was founded fifty years before Harvard, and the Uni\·er sity of Pal'is, the oldEJst university in the wodtl, was founded in 1200, six years earlier than Oxford. There are over l,000 Young Men's Christian Associations in this country, with a membership of 140,000, expending for Christian work $780,000. The aggregate of property in buildings and libraries is over $5,000,000. Senator Stanford recently said in reference to "Stanford University," which ' he has founded and endowed : '' It will be built with a sole regard to the poor; no rich man's E.OU or daughter will want to go there. My university ,Yill absorb my wealth and . be a monument to the memory of my son. The poor alone will be welcome." Them is a choice of 189 courses of study at Harvard, and 242 :it the University of Michigan. The Czar of Russia still fears that the students within his empire are plotting against him. There are 1,840 Indian children of school age in the State of New York. The average daily attendance is about

840. PreFident Grevy, of France, io fondl of Sophocles and Virgil, and can quot~ page after page from them..

RICHMOND

COLLEGE .MESt:JENGEll.

TECHNICALITIES . Professor · of Law : " \Vhat is• necessary to constitute a will ?" Law Student: property."

"A corpse, and some

" What shall we name our little boy?" said a young wife to her husband. "Call him Peter." "Oh, no, I never knew anybody named Peter that could earn his salt." "Well,call him saltpetre." Science enumerntes 588 species of organic forms in the air we breathe. Just think of it! E\·ery time you draw a breath, a whole zoological garden slips down your wind-pipe. Archimedes, you say, discovered spe-

cific gravity on taking a bath. Why had the principle never before occurred to him ? Perhaps this was the first time he ever took a bath. A student in want of money sold his books and wrote home, "Father, rejoice! I am now deriving my support from literature." "Have you sawed that wood?" asked a lady of a tramp who had inquired for breakfast. "Have I sawed that wood!" exclaimed the tramp in contempt. "I have seen that wood, and I don't intend to work for a lady who doesn't understand the rul~s of grammar better than you do." -THE-

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