THOSE STUDY CARDS.

Red cards and blue cards, buff cards and green cards--in fact cards of every color of the rainbow--will be seen darting across the Yard today in the hands of graduates and undergraduates who are struggling with that great problem of the first of a year, the selection of a full set of new courses. Each man will rush from professor to faculty adviser, and from faculty adviser to Miss Monk in a wild effort to determine how many of the one-third and two-third courses that seem in vogue at present are necessary to satisfy that exacting band known as the Committee on the Choice of Electives. The little green pamphlet shows, among other things, that the war has made itself felt in more departments than that of German; many courses are bracketed or are in new hands because of the fact that war work still keeps certain members of the Faculty away from Cambridge.

But, the problem of the study cards is truly a serious one. For two years materialistic considerations have been uppermost in the minds of college men. The former appreciation of the value of the humanities in producing a well-rounded out view of life and men must be revived. Education is the support of a democracy, it is true; but it must be that education which not only informs us of the innumerable phenomena of science, but which gives to us, through an acquaintance of life and letters in the past, a comprehensive knowledge of the arts and nobler things of life. Unless this knowledge is acquired in the years of college life, it is forever barred to those who have not sufficiently estimated the meaning and value of the choices made today.