have been particularly struck with the grandeur of the old chapel, which she declared more imposing than anything she had beheld in America, unless it were Bunker Hill Monument. She and her spouse, in short, seemed delighted with all they saw and heard, and the Prince appeared quite satisfied with the result of his call at Wiley's. The visit of the noble pair ended with an examination of the Observatory, in which Napoleon was (by the liberality of the College, the Faculty of which was convened in the morning to grant him that privilege) put through the entire course of an undergraduate's instruction in practical astronomy.* Altogether, the Prince and Princess seemed to have enjoyed their visit, and bade “Belle Mère" adieu with regret, but with the consoling prospect of an excellent dinner aboard the royal yacht. N. B. In answer to numerous questions which have been asked about the manner of salutation observed between Napoleon and his entertainer when they met for the first time, we would state it as our opinion that the two great men did not kiss, but grasped one another cordially by the hand. We would also state that we do not give much credence to the report that the Prince, in the presence of his host, drew forth a pocket-pistol, with the remark, "I never go into a foreign country unarmed." OLD CLOTHES. - We are apt to wonder at those who hasten to sell to gentlemen of the Jewish persuasion their long-faithful articles of raiment. We have always loved to hoard such garments until their number became terrifying to maternal and chum-ly eyes in view of the limits of closets. For these dear exuviæ bring back the thought of many hours of comfort; rainy days and vacations, when the wearing of them enabled us to be cosily happy in a "read" which could not be interrupted by callers, or an excursion in which stains and drenchings could cause us no concern. That old coat and slouched felt hat have clung stoutly to us in many a cheery, blinding snow-storm, many a windy night, deliciously rainy and dark. And when some vacation morning we open a closet, doubtful which of the many old cronies should go with us to-day, there seems a shrug in the coat, and a wink somewhere under the brim of the hat which decides the question at once. We call to mind a mountain trip in which the ecstasy of unrestraint showed itself in so uncouth and jolly habiliments as to drive to the verge of suicide our more fastidious comrade, who that peculiar coat with its extensions, the calico shirt with Byronic collar of calico, the cudgel, knapsack, umbrella, and hat, by turns mortified and convulsed with laughter. Now we regard these mute comrades with all the more affection, because, we are free to confess, after a candid examination of ambrotypes "taken in the dress of that period," that they bear the most hideous aspect of any suit worn by us since we branched into those garments which were once a distinctive portion of male attire. "We had a hat. It was not all a hat: Its rough exterior, the rude figures in its front, its dents and mutilations imparted by our Sophomoric hands, combined to give it the appearance of having graduated with marked honors from a free fight of unusual severity. We still *This course consists of a single glance at the moon through the telescope. VOL. VIII. NO. 69. 18 love that hat, because there circle round its bristling crest memories of a year in old Massachusetts, eighteen of us socially, cosily together, with open doors and blazing lights and fires, quietly happy, and doing some work withal. The Roman maid wisely put away carefully under the threshold the clothes which her lover laid aside when he went, in Sunday garb, to visit the city, as she sang, "Lead from the city, O my song, lead Daphnis home." For she knew that when the fashionable suit grew irksome, the sated swain would seek her threshold, drawn by a love of comfort stronger than incantations to put on those easier garments, the dressing-gown out at the elbows, the slippers delightfully down at the heel, to sit with loving content by the side of his Mary Ann. Great men have ever clung to their cosey old clothes. Cæsar wore to the day of his death the mantle he wore on "that day he overcame the Nervii." Napoleon's old greatcoat and hat are historical. McClellan delights in the oddest of old suits. Our love for old clothes increases with the piles of them which neither moths in summer nor housewives in winter are disposed to respect. It causes a pang when we seek an old coat for an excursion to find that it has been given to some "poor little boy." The pang strikes deeper as we return from a swim to find our pockets rifled and our generously bestowed coat disappearing on the back of a young ingrate who thus illustrates the folly of indiscriminate charity. We shall jealously guard our garments in all their ragged honesty, and oppose the cultivation of patches or the collection of rents upon them. A fiercer foe than moths or charity is found in the motley army of Jews to whom no snub is conclusive, no privacy is sacred. The question how to be rid of them has been long discussed without solution. The water-cure has been suggested; but our instructors, though fond of jokes, can hardly permit them to be so practical: besides, there is the chance that in ducking a Poco, a student may find beneath his windows the uncovered head of the officer of his entry, and shrink back appalled by the bare possibility of such outrage. The wisest method of extermination is to "let them alone severely." To deal with them is to act like the one who sold Alladin's lamp for others of more glitter and none of its virtue. Let us guard our dear old friends, and abandon them as reluctantly as Marsyas yielded up his epidermal garment to Apollo, the first of the Pocos. Let us avoid the stout perambulators of the yard, let us answer to their representations, "Credat Judæus Appella: Non ego." And when they would tempt us still with gold, let us throw not a boot, but a glance of scorn and pity at him who proposes to exchange for lucre the dearest feelings that swell the human breast. AFTER ARISTOPHANES. - While we were lying lazily in a flatboat, under the river-bank shade, in the hot, drowsy hours of vacation, a huge yellow-throated bull-frog took position on a ledge of rock, and stared persistently at us over the rims of his eyes. We were amused, and occupied a little sunny time in inditing the following adulatory poem : TO THE FROG OF THE BLANKBURY RIVER. My friend, thy open face, Thy generous cut of mug, Beneath thine ample chin And, by the way, friend Brex, But, surely, thou canst kiss! Kerchug! Thou 'rt wise, and at the owl Thy shoulders thou mayst shrug; O, when in some morass Thy slimy grave is dug, May never frog or tadpole pass EXHIBITION-DAY. - We believe that it has ever been the fashion to admire the artistic effect of a College Commencement or Exhibition scene. There is no one, however small his appreciation of scenic effect at other times and in other places, who cannot see the beauty of the pretty contrasts of such an occasion; — no one, however timid in speaking what he thinks, who does not venture to express his satisfaction in a whisper at least to his friend in the gallery. Therefore, in view of the constant freshness of the remark, we are not going to consider that we have said a trite thing, when we say that we liked the effect of the bright colors shut in by the gray walls of the Old Chapel on the last Exhibition-Day. We were reminded of one of Hawthorne's Italian scenes in his "Marble Faun," gay crowd in an old, stately ruin, "in the antique shell of an age gone by," where the pillars and dark walls were made only the more majestic by their condescension. So with this bright assembly collected in that stately triumph of architecture up a single flight of stairs in " University." There were various ways of looking at the display. We had no opportunity of surveying it from the chair in the rear of the speakers; but from the stand-point that we chose the whole seemed very satisfactory. We thought we saw evidences, however, in the frightened looks of two or three, who, standing on the stage, eyed the audience over the top of their manuscripts, that they did not perceive, or at least did not appreciate, the beauty that even our secluded position could not but reveal. It one par was curious, too, to notice how each speaker had a special audience, ticular cluster of colors which he talked to, or perhaps it was only one "bright and particular star" which the sweep of his arm would single out and distinguish from the rest. Of course sundry reflections of different kinds kept arising, as we looked on sagely and editorially; but we will content ourselves with merely giving you the benefit of our thoughts on the wondrous nature of College life as presented by a Junior Exhibition-Day. A quiet flow up and down the paths, and to and from the boarding-house, - -a continual alternation of lexicons and text-books, -a constant sociality between building and building, a quiet activity, which is yet entirely unthought of in the great world outside of the radius of a quarter of a mile from the pump, all this goes on ceaselessly and unobtrusively, till some Exhibition Day or Commencement arrives to present it and the result of its quiet work to the admiring unclassical public, — another Alpheus, flowing on unnoticed and working its way through the hard ground beneath us, till it appears at its fountain, Arethusa, where all can see its waters. This hidden College life is entirely under our own care: no one else sees its quiet course, no one else can control and direct it for good. It is ours to look that its stream, like the underground river of old, is kept clear and unmingled with the dirt of its channel as it flows on to the spring, where it should be transparent and bright in the sunshine of an Exhibition-Day. THE BATTLE OF BALL'S BLUFF has occupied our attention of late, the more that several who were lately our fellow-students acted important parts in it. All of us were anxious to learn whether young men, who in College were regarded as courageous, would maintain their reputation for bravery when exposed to the novel dangers and terrors of a battle-field; and, as day after day the details of the fight were disclosed to us, each man was rejoiced to discover that the Harvard boys were the bravest of the brave, and everywhere displayed the coolness and courage which had been expected of them. Most extraordinary rumors of the bravery of these young men, and nearly fabulous stories of their coolness and presence of mind, have reached our ears. We have heard of desperate charges which they headed, of troops by the dozen that they towed by their teeth across the Potomac, and of sunken and leaky boats which in a trice they raised from the river's bed, patched up and rendered the salvation of their men and themselves. But even when all the exaggeration with which mistaken or misinformed friendship has decked their deeds is laid aside, they have still, in the unbounded praise of their superior officers and in their own wounds, undeniable proofs of their courageous conduct. We cannot leave this subject without mentioning our late instructor in German, who also fought at Ball's Bluff, and who, if not strictly a child, is at least a near relation of Alma Mater, and one too of which she has every reason to be proud. On the whole, much as we may deplore the necessity of the war itself, and regret the loss of those whom it has torn away from us, it cannot but be a satisfaction to hear that those lately our fellow-students, now fighting for the preservation of the Union, are acting in a manner worthy of their friends, themselves, and their College. WHEN good old Socrates, centuries ago, devoted his life to questioning old and young, he was endured as a bore for many years before any one thought of accusing or putting him to death. It was only when he attempted to educate the Athenian youth, by a system too wise to be refuted, that his innovations on the sacred follies of the past brewed a storm of wrath against him in the breasts of Athenian fogies. Then it was that they called a godly man an atheist; then that they framed that marvellous indictment, with all the clearness and consistence of startled conservatives; then that they styled him a corrupter of youth, though he dared them to call his pupils to the stand, and left them Xenophon and Plato at his death. We know that Socrates was appreciated in the course of time; his opponents are now but foils to the goodness and greatness of his character; yet in the present day, while we revere the martyr, we follow in some things the example of his accusers. By this is meant that we refuse to be guided by what experience has taught us, or by the analogy between what we find it wise to do in transactions where money is involved, and what we are asked to do where character and culture are involved. We look with suspicion upon teachers who are too zealous, and are too ready to check them when they attempt to put in practice measures which, in pursuits worthy of enterprise, we have been ready to employ. Without attempting anything startling or sharp, without expecting VOL. VIII. NO. 70. 19 |