CANT.

A FAIR presumption seems to exist that one will find in a college man a firm opponent of cant; if, at least, we mean by that term "the repetition of a creed after it has become a phrase by the cooling of that white-hot conviction which once made it both the light and warmth of the soul," as Mr. Lowell defines it. But however this may be in regard to religion and such indifferent matters, one cannot be so sure of a college man's hatred of cant when he comes face to face with something in regard to which his prejudice or his passion may be excited. It is for this reason that I wish to offer an apology, if in the following I should seem to speak irreverently of old college articles of faith and of customs springing from them. The subject of the Class elections is turning the mind of some portion of the undergraduates towards Class-Day. And while we are yet far enough off to examine coolly, let us ask ourselves whether we should not be acting in an honester way if we gave up some of the exercises on that day, however agreeable they may be. Not to enumerate too closely, we all know that the meaning of the exercises about the tree is a belief in what is called "class feeling," - that subtile bond which is supposed to unite all the members of a class because they have entered College together, pursued their studies side by side, and are to close their connection with the College on the same day. Now, this bond did exist once, was even very powerful; of that there is no doubt. Does it exist now? Seniors are certainly sorry to leave the friends they have known for four years, but is it because their friends are members of the same class? Have they not often even stronger friendships with men of other classes? Does a Senior have a common feeling of attachment for any one of two hundred men because he writes the date of the same year after his name as his classmate does? It must be seen that the question of class feeling depends on the answers to these questions, and I cannot doubt how any one will answer them who has lost the ardor of his Freshmanhood. Then why not acknowledge that class feeling exists no longer, and cease trying to give expression to a creed we no longer profess? It would require some determination, perhaps; the young ladies might look a little chagrined when we told them that there would be no dancing and hugging about the tree; but it would be manly and straightforward, and we could no longer be accused of cant. But there is a question where this principle applies in a much more serious manner. I refer to the question whether the chaplainship is now anything more than a solemn sort of blasphemy. This is not a subject on which it is best to argue, but let any one examine the feeling with which this office is regarded in his own mind and in that of his acquaintances, and see if the chaplain and the prayer are not considered as the proper thing, adding a certain amount of dignity and distinction to the day, and not as the expression of the sincere religious feeling of any portion of the class. This is of course addressed to those who believe in the first article of the Christian creed; but since the publication of certain rather remarkable views among us, it is necessary to consider those who do not accept this fundamental assertion; but these can certainly not think it honorable to feign a belief in such superstition by electing a man to pray for them. Very different opinions from those expressed are, I know, held by my friends. It is to be hoped, therefore, that the best construction will be put on the foregoing, and it will be understood that the only purpose is to warn men lest we leave college with a lie in our actions, if not on our lips.