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O'Vuori^ (^


HuK 119


Vol. VII.

Cambridge, Mass., March 5, 1869.

No. I.


Why do the horses come alwaj's at noon
To be shod at the blacksmith's shop ?
At noonday time, when the sun is still,
When the blacksmith is forced against his will
To rest, and his work to stop ?

Just at noon, from his house on the hill,

A girl with a pail comes thence ;
Smiles come on her lips, on her cheeks a glow,
As she sees the horses tied in a row,

Along by the blacksmith's fence.

Oh, but the blacksmith's daughter is fair!

And the horses all look at each other.
As much as to say, " Now, isn't she sweet?
We know why our masters say that our feet

Are giving them so much bother."

The bell rings one ; and the blacksmith cries,
** Now, then, for work right away I "
But most of them say that it's growing late,
And they really think that they'd better wait,
And come on some other day.

Oh, blacksmith's daughter, your mother, too,

Was fair when your father sought her I
You're going in the way that she has trod.
You'll be a wife ere those horses are shod, —
O blacksmith's pretty daughter I


The College is beginning to get comfortably
settled down into the routine of the spring term.
Everybody has returned ; the enormous amount of
handshaking inevitably attendant on the first few
days is happily over ; and the genial " H'war'ye,"
" Hadagoodtime," with which returned wan-
derers are accustomed to make greeting, no

longer resound in every part of the yard. As
we loaf among our friends' rooms, the various
fanciful tiophies of the " German," and the vast
number of new and startling forms of playbills
and theatre-checks which greet our eyes, bear
witness to the persistence and success with which
the sons of Harvard have sought relaxation
during vacation from the overpowering pressure
of brainwork of the last term.

In the yard, the various phases of under-
graduate life still show their distinguishing
characteristics. There we see the grave and
stately Senior, soon to shuffle off this collegiate
coil ; the free and easy Junior, careless of past,
present, or future; the Sophomore, still lively
and irrepressible, but perhaps a little less over-
poweringly impressed with the dignity of his
position than he appeared last term ; and the mild
Freshman, no longer distressingly bucolic, but
still evidently a Freshman from the continual
and anxious care with which he watches over
his glossy beaver, not yet entirely firm upon his
head, and his necessary and not always successful
attempts to keep his delicate cane from getting
inconveniently between his legs.

The various standard interests begin to show
signs of life. The rowing weights move vigo-
rously; and there is much conversation as to
the formation of this year's " Harvard," and the
probable location and time of the races. A few
enthusiastic base-ball men have been seen hard
at work on small spots of bare grass. Every-
body is entering with frantic enthusiasm into the
new pursuit of bicycular proficiency ; and we of
the " Advocate " are reminded by the call for
" copy " of the printer that our duties also begin
anew, and that now is the time to say a few
words concerning the present condition and
prospects of the paper.

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T^he Advocate.

We kindly spare our readers the custonrary
touching tale of the untimely death Of the
" Collegian," and the PhcEnix-Hke birth of the
*' Advocate," and plunge at once in medias res.
With this number, the Editors from '69 retire
with our hearty good wishes, and a new element
is introduced into the management of the paper
by the accession of our new colleagues from '71.
The paper has flourished well ; and, though its
existence is yet unacknowledged by the Faculty,
our thanks are due that body for the forbearance
with which they have left unnoticed several
occurrences which were justly deserving of
censure. It is the aim of the Editors that
nothing shall be published in the paper which
can be fairly construed as flagrantly disre-
spectful, or liable to produce ill-feeling on any

Financially, our efforts have been a success ;
and the intentions, which we stated last year in
reference to the Library, seem likely to be pro-
ductive to that deserving institution of a benefit
by no means to be despised.

We thank our numerous friends for the gen-
erous support they have given us, both in
subscriptions and contributions ; and venture to
hope that, by a continuance of their kindness,
the paper may be maintained in its present
flourishing condition. It is, as has been often
said, the aim of the Editors that the manage-
ment shall be strictly impartial, and controlled
by no one interest or combination, in or out of
the College.

We solicit contributions from all classes, and
promise that all articles shall stand entirely on
their own merits, and meet with judgment as per-
fectly impartial as is possible for fallible human
nature. It is our hope to be able to maintain the
present high position of the paper among other
college papers ; and we shall endeavor to give
as full news as possible of all occurrences con-
nected with the College, interesting to grad-
uates, as well as undergraduates.

With these remarks, and a hope that the assist-
ance of our friends will continue, both in money
and in brains, as cordial and generous as in
time past, we introduce to our readers the first
number of Volume VII.


It is popularly and probably truly said, that
there have never been but two perfect trans-
lations ; those, namely, of Enoch and of Elijah.
The diflSculties attending most exercises of the
kind are sufl[iciently well known by most under-

There is an exercise in this line, however,
familiarly practised in the University of New
Wittemberg when I was a student there, which,
I think, might be introduced here to advantage.
It is the translation, in the vernacular, from
fiction into fact. The advantage is, that the
student is thus constantly brought back to hard
pan, and learns how to prick bubbles and reduce
them to their constituents. Sometimes the ex-
ercise is in the translation of rhetoric into sense.
I remember they gave out Dr. Schweigenthal's
celebrated sermon beginning, " The founder of
our religion was proceeding to the metropolis
of his country." This was the way that man
said, *' Jesus was going to Jerusalem."

But we preferred *' Fact and Fiction," which
we had in our second Semestre with dear old
Hugh. Heaven bless him for the nonsense he
took out of me I He has hung up his Whately
and his pen; and has gone where the good
professors bin.

I have some notes of his exercises in " Fiction
and Fact."

" Hamlet first : you may read the text, and
then translate freely."

Hamlet L reads from a new novel. — *' Roger
slowly left his cabinet, revolving in his thoughts
the unaccountable proceedings of the day; he
hastily descended the stairway, paused a moment
under the porch, and then waved his hand to the
coachman who was driving up his carriage."

Dear Old Hugh. — " That will do. Trans-

Hamlet L — " Higgins went out of the count-
ing-room, wondering why the cash was short ;
he ran downstairs, and stopped a horse-car."

Dear Old Hugh. — " Very well. Next."

Horatio II. — " At the signal, the intelligent
servant threw the gallant bays upon their
haunches. By some concealed machinery the

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The Advocate.

door of the carriage was opened, although
the footman did not descend ; and Roger, with
a weary step, mounted, and threw himself upon
the cushions."

Dear Old Hugh. — " Very well. Translate."

Horatio II, — " The man put down the brake,

and stopped the horses. The door of that car

never would shut, so Higgins got in and sat


Dear Old Hugh, — " Right. Next."
Guildenstern. — " He wrapped his feet in the
heavy Persian rugs, lay back upon the cushions,
and watched the declining rays of the sun behind
the ruins they were passing. Of a sudden he
observed two footsore travellers, and calling to
the footman " —

Dear Old Hugh. — " Enough. Translate."
Guildenstern, — " He stuck his feet into the
straw, lay back in the corner, and watched
the sun going down behind the lumber-yards.
Of a sudden he saw two people who looked
tired, trying to stop the car. Higgins called the
conductor " —

And so forth. Kou ta XotTta. The remainder
of the text may be found in the *' New- York
Semi-Weekly," — after they have got Maggie's
feet cut off. But every man has to make his
own translation. There are no ponies.
Respectfully yours,

J) .1 3RD Citizen.

/^^ 1 / * ' .


The rumor has reached us that a new dormitory
is soon to be built. Certainly it is needed ; and
yet the last experiment in the way of dormitory
building was such a failure, that we can imagine
a certain modest hesitation among the higher
powers in attempting another.

If we have a new dormitory, it should be
placed in the college yard. The unpopularity
of College House, which is still always full, is a
proof of what we say. The student likes to be
outside of the yard if he wishes to enjoy the
advantages of college rooms. It is also im-
portant that the new building should face east
and west, like Stoughton and Hollis, rather than

north and south, like Grays. This can be
effected by placing it between the Library and
Appleton Chapel, thus making University the
central feature in the yard. The out-buildings
around University, which have been little used
since Grays was built, could be removed ; and
their loss replaced by arranging the basement* of
the new building. Indeed, we do not see why
the false back doors of University should not be
converted into real ones, and steps, like those in
its front, built; thus rendering our principal
swarm of recitation-rooms accessible from all

A dormitory thus located could not fail, if
properly arranged in its interior, of being ex-
cessively popular. It should have the rooms
constructed on the Holworthy plan, which is the
only convenient system of rooms for chums in
college. While the basements should be in some
respects like those of Grays, water should be
furnished from an outside pump, and not drawn
in subterranean recesses from some mysterious
source, as in Grays Hall. The sink, which
renders the entries of Grays disgusting, should
be omitted from this building ; and it should be
warmed by steam. This has a long time been
a pet theory with us. Rooms can be warmed
most conveniently and economically by steam,
as has been shown by the introduction of this
method of warming rooms into so many of our
largest public buildings. The student's fireplace
is a fruitful subject for poetical effusions; but
practically is a necessary nuisance in winter,
and a cumbersome eyesore in summer.

We have only intended in the brief space of
this article to mention a few principal points,
which we consider necessary for the comfort
of the students who may inhabit the coming
building. If placed in the location we have
indicated, its style of architecture will make no
difference, as it cannot injure the effect of the
Library, nor present a fine appearance so long
as Gore Hall and its sprouting towers shall

We think that there is a fair prospect of a
new dormitory ere long. We do not doubt that
the needs of the students will be considered by
those who have the charge of its erection. We

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T^he Advocate.

trust that all proper requirements may be dis-
cussed freely in this paper, that another building
like Grays may not be inflicted on the College.

- (^ (


I AM a Sophomore. This assertion, as every
one must know, implies many things; and,
among others, to my sorrow, the necessity of
writing themes. I never was a ready writer.
The youthful effusions, which, I am sorry to say,
my teacher never regarded in the same favorable
light that I did, were the products of long hours
of most intense study ; and the letters home, that
had to be despatched with such unfailing regu-
larity, were the great bugbear of my school-boy
days. Nor have I improved in ease of writing
as I have grown older. My theme always hangs
over me like a thunder-cloud, growing blacker
and heavier as the Ave weeks advance ; but, alas I
in my case, I never attain the happy result of
Nature, a " squirt." Judge of my horror, then,
when, on one of the last days of the first term,
our respected professor announced to us, with a
smile that to me seemed wholly malicious, that
he would give out now the subject, which we
should write upon as soon as we returned, since
it was, perhaps, (oh, the certainty which that
" perhaps " carried to my mind !) a little difli-
cult, and that it might be well to look it up
during vacation. The subject was, " Travelling'
without Reading'^ and Reading without Travel-

Here was a knell to all my hopes of fun during
the vacation : for my division was to come in first,
and the theme would take up the little time that
a couple of conditions left ; but I resolved to
make the best of it. Arrived at home, I began
to think upon the subject ; and, at last, towards
the end of the vacation, thought that I should
really be able to do myself some credit. So, one
day, I sat down to copy off my rough draft, but
had merely written the title with my name upon
the outside, when I was called away by some-
thing, and, on my return, could not find the
sheet of paper which I had commenced on. I
thought it strange, but took another and copied

off my theme. This theme lay among a good
many other loose papers of mine on my table,
until my return to College a few days afterwards.
I took it then along with me ; and, as it was enr
tirely finished, handed it in when the time came,
merely glancing at the title, to make sure that
there was no mistake, but without unfolding it.
A day or two afterwards, I was thunderstruck
by a summons which announced a " private "
for gross impertinence to the Professor of Rheto-
ric in sending in such a theme. I went to inquire
about it. My little sister, a girl about ten years
old, had got hold of the missing sheet of theme
paper, and printed on the inside a theme of her
own ; and I, by a horrible mistake, had sent in
this instead of my own. The following is a copy
of my death-warrant : —


Travelling without Reading and Reading
without Travelling,
Once I went to Yonkers in the cars. There
was a man who was reading the " World " he
was travelling and reading. Then the car
stopped at a place and he put his head out
of the window. Then he was travelling and not
reading. Once I read about the poor heathen.
Then I got in a rocking-chair and my Sister and
played going to Fiji. That was reading without
travelling. Then my mother came into the Room
and said " Stop that noise." I told her we were
playing heathen. She said it was not play and
we were real heathen. My mother has curls.
My Father thinks my brother Charlie is awful
smart. He has side whiskers. He makes me
write Themes. He thinks they improve the
mind. I think they use lots of paper. Once
I travelled on a boat. It was called the Empire
State. But I did not read. I talked. I most got
sick but not quite. We had to take brandy. It
was real good. Once I read a story about a girl
who rode on the cars. She got sore eyes and
had to wear eye-glasses. Then I thought I
would never read when I was agoing. So now
I don't, only when I'm agoing on a rocking-chair.
Or when my big cousin has a man come to see her
what wears light pants. He always pants to see
her. Anyhow he tells her so. He likes to travel

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Ihe Advocate.

but I don't think he reads much except her let-
ters. He most always travels just where she is,
then he stops there. I don't know which I like
best travelling without reading or reading with-
out travelling. I guess I like beans about as well
as any thing. My cousin says she likes mashed
potatoes. This is the end of this theme, finis*

♦ That means the end. Charlie told me so.


Thb sea where authors trembling launch their barks,

A treacherous sea, inviting to the eye

Of youth ambitious, gazing from the shore

Upon the shining tide« He builds his toy,

And ventures it among the sunlit drops

That sparkle on the surface of the swell.

He might a lesson from the bubbles learn ;

They smile and dance and die. So may his hopes.

The caverns of the deep are stored with wreck,

And mid the ribs of many a hope-sped bark

Nameless sea-monsters sport in heedless play.

Unwisely though he tempt the mid-sea storms.

The youth is free to coast along the shore.

He may to some small port a cargo bear,

Welcome and full of cheer ; and, if one heart

Beats quicker for a humble thought of his.

He has done well to launch his modest lay.


Many undergraduates, early in their collegiate
course, choose a professional life, but delay
choosing a profession until they graduate. The
studies preparatory to the professions of a cler-
gyman, of a lawyer, of a journalist, and of a phy-
sician or surgeon, are, to a certain extent, the
same ; and the professions themselves have many
points in common. Hence, whatever may be the
native talents of those who choose a professional
life, the accidents of early education generally
lead them to look upon several professions with
almost equal favor. To a student standing at
the point at which the professions diverge, the
opening vistas may be alike charming ; and the
difficulty of the choice often consists not so much

in choosing one profession as in giving up oth-

Young men of a studious turn greatly err in
delaying the choice of a profession until they
graduate. In the sense that a merchant's time
is a part of his capital, the professional man's time
is the whole of his capital. Under the systems
of education for mercantile life, young men are
first taught the general principles of commerce,
and the details which are of general applica-
tion in business, and are then warned that suc-
cess can be attained only by exclusive and
continuous attention to one business. The
course of instruction in Harvard College now
offers to each student the opportunity of choos-
ing, to a great extent, his own course of study.
We are the architects, not only of the super-
structures, but also of the foundations, of our
fortunes ; and, under the elective system, we may
elect the studies which are intimately related to
those of our professions, and which will be as
hewn stones in a solid masonry, whereon, as a
foundation, an elegant structure may hereafter
be rapidly and safely built. The merchant makes
only those investments which will profit him
something ; the student who has chosen a pro-
fessional life ought to invest his time in those
studies only which add something to his profes-
sional knowledge.

Many undergraduates who intend to choose a
profession, spend four years in learning that
which may be of use in any profession, but of
which none, or, at best, only a small part, can
be of use in one profession. During the same
period, the young men who intend to go into
mercantile life, devote themselves to a single
business, and master its details. Not a few under-
graduates, we fear, will be grieved to find that
when they are about to begin, almost from the
bottom, the studies peculiar to their profession,
their young merchant-friends are almost estab-
lished in business. It may cost many a pang to
part from studies which long companionship has
led us to think almost part of ourselves ; but, in
the race for professional success, we must lay
aside every weight.

We ask, then, every undergraduate, who has
chosen a professional life, without choosing a

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The Advocate.

profession, to spend no more time for that which
is not bread, and no more labor for that which
satisfieth not, but to deliberately choose his pro-
fession, and to resolutely give up any study, how-
ever attractive, which does not help to fit him
for his professional duties.


The Trustees of Columbia College have taken
the lead in college reform, by abolishing the
present system of marks and deductions for a
time, in order to ascertain the result of treating
students as gentlemen and not as school-boys.
We think the new regulations of sufficient inter-
est to copy from " The Cap and Gown " the
greater part of them. They are brief and ex-
plicit, divided into three arti|:les, as follows : —

"I. — As TO Discipline.

" I. Any case of misconduct in a student shall be
referred, in the first instance, to the President, who
shall hear the student's own statement in private, and
shall admonish him, if necessary, in like manner.

" 2. In case any member of a class under instruction
disturb the class exercises, the Professor presiding may
require such student to leave the room, and the stu-
dent thereupon shall report himself to the President.

" 3. Such rules of order as may be required to secure
regularity, and to prevent confusion in the operations
of the College, shall be announced by the Faculty.
These, it is presumed, will be complied with, from their
obvious necessity and fitness ; but should they be per-
sistently disregarded by any student, the Board of the

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