UNDERGRADUATE LIFE AT HARVARD.

The current number of The Continent contains an article on Harvard undergraduate life which cannot fail to be of interest to all students in Cambridge. The writer of the article, Mr. Sloane Kennedy, the compiler of the lives of Longfellow and Whittier, takes a very friendly view of Harvard students. He objects to the popular idea that Harvard students are either boating men, base-ball players or "howling swells," and characterizes the representative Harvard man as "simply a quiet, studious young man, only to be distinguished from other well dressed young men by a certain air of intellectualism and that appearance of lofty disdain which characterizes students everywhere. It is an error to suppose that more than a very few indeed of the Harvard students are intemperate or licentious The Harvard man is really not so very aristocratic after all. At heart he is pretty much of a democrat. It is a common remark in the college that there a man is estimated at his real worth. and all pretense and conceit is covered with ridicule. During the past fifteen years a wonderful change in the undergraduate life has taken place. The sleep of the Cambridge citizen was once broken by the uproarious singing of students in the streets. Now it is very rare to hear any boisterous midnight singing - such out-door singing as there is being confined to the college yard, where it seems appropriate and pleasant. The old tricks upon property are now unheard of. Professors are no longer the natural enemy of the student. The old 'cane-rushes' and terrible foot-ball fights are no more."

The writer attributes this change to the introduction of the elective system of which he gives a brief description. He mentions as a fact not well known that on a recent attempt to make the entire curriculum elective, the vote was nearly a tie although the motion was lost.

Mr. Kennedy evidently thinks well of the elective system. In describing the system of recitations at present pursued he says:

"The old compulsory recitation, with marks, has disappeared. The recitation has become a conference. The student meets his instructor, not because he is obliged to, but because he can master his subject better with his help. The instructor often does the reciting himself, expounding and illustrating his subject, and occasionally calling on some member of the class to read or explain. In this way ground is rapidly traversed and everybody's time saved." * * *

"Indeed, the spirit of work for work's sake has permeated every department of the college, and it is becoming evident that Harvard is rapidly acquiring many of the characteristics of German universities, minus their barbarities and vices.

The article also contains a very interesting account of the origin of the "Hasty Pudding Club." From the eating of "hasty pudding" he traces the transition to college commons. After an account of some of the scenes of the early "commons" he contrasts the old system with the one of the present-day - Memorial.

"The well-clad and suave Harvard student now dines in a splendid cathedral room sixty feet broad by one hundred and forty-nine feet long and measuring eighty feet to the roof. The students' wants are attended to by colored waiters, who can always be bribed by a little douceur. The sunlight falls through 'storied windows richly dight,' and stains with Iris the snowy linen of fifty tables. On six courses dines the aesthetic Harvard man; and he often feels disposed to grumble at destiny if his pocket-book will not permit him to indulge in such extras as fresh salmon, straw berries in February, and all the delicacies that belong to the menu of a first-class hotel. Such a thing as a marked violation of good breeding is almost unknown at these tables. For six years from four hundred to six hundred students have eaten together in this the largest college dining hall in the world, and no disturbance whatever has ever occurred. Indeed, such a thing would be impossible among young men so well bred. The nearest approach to a demonstration that is ever made is when a thoughtless onlooker in the visitors' gallery neglects to take off his hat. The fare is a little monotonous, but it is rich, well cooked and abundant. Students often remark that in Memorial Hall they get seven-dollar board for four or five dollars."

In speaking of the religious influences brought to bear on the student, the article remarks:

"Appleton Chapel is a rather dingy and sepulchral place, contrasting poorly with Yale's cheerful and richly sculptured Battell Chapel. It is known to everybody that from time immemorial students of every college have looked upon daily perfunctory prayers as the bugbear of their lives. To stand over a young man with a policeman's club and compel him to worship, hardly conduces either to the glory of God or to the student's religious edification. Coercion at Harvard especially is something anomalous and discordant."

Mr. Kennedy finds much to admire in college publications, and gives special praise to the humorous productions of the students. He gives but little space to athletics, as the subject is better known to the public and needs less description. The article closes with a lengthy description of class day and its festivities. The article, on the whole, is written in a spirit friendly to Harvard, and although, in some points, it betrays a lack of intimate acquaintance with its subject, will well repay reading by every student and every one interested in students.