THE POSSIBILITIES. HE note of regret which was sounded in these pages not long ago certainly touched an echoing chord in many hearts, for nowhere is there to be found more conservatism of a certain kind, more fond attachment to old customs as such, than in the average Yale undergraduate ; but it must be remembered that there is another side to the picture. There were advantages in the old régime— let no one deny that; but it is rather the place of young manhood to see the greater advantages, or at least the possibilities, of the new. There can be no doubt as to the strength of the temptation to praise the "good old times," for men have been doing so since Homer scorned his own "degenerate days," but praising them neither brings them back nor mends the present. Some things have been lost, and never can be recovered, and it is only right that they should be fondly remembered, and replaced as far as possible; but the true point of view is forward rather than backward, and the possibilities of the future are of more importance than the recollections of the past. And so quickly do the college generations pass away, that when the class now in control of the LIT. is gone there will be no undergraduate left in college to remember the days of the old fence corner, to touch once more that strain so often harped upon, and so of all the many changes. This new generation knows little of the old idols, and it is for them. to catch the enthusiasm of the new day, and work out of it what they can, for their own good and the University's, but perhaps in some ways we who are on the border line can see more clearly a few of the paths in which this onward march is possible. It is not that we feel the changes less keenlyrather the reverse-but that surveying old and new together, the beginnings of the paths become visible in the very contrast. A glance at the "President's Report," published this spring, gives one an idea of the width of the field through which these paths of progress may run, as well as of the need of pioneers to hew them out. It is not my part to attempt an exploration of any great portion of the ground, but a short look at a few of the lines of advance directly concerning our magazine may not be out of place. The points upon which I wish to touch are the increased number of certain electives, the growing unity of the University, and the new library. The electives with which the LIT. has most reason to interest itself are the new courses in English. Of these nothing can be said except in highest praise. It seems most evident that nothing can be of more importance in the education of a man of culture than a thorough and sympathetic acquaintance with the literature of his own tongue. Every fresh opportunity for this acquaintance is at once an incentive and a means to its realization. The more the study of living literature extends, the more a literary atmosphere will develop, and with it that real literary spirit, so often talked of and sighed for, and so seldom actually finding life. With this possibility is wrapped up the very growth and prosperity of our magazine, and we are surely right in expressing our hearty gratitude for this step. The unity of the University is a less tangible subject, for June, 1890] Exchange JAN'5 '40 Possibilities. 401 it is something which appears less in outward signs, than in a certain common sharing of aims and interest. This spirit is assuredly on the rise, for the different departments are growing to have more and more of a fellow feeling, and while the life of the campus must have a certain characteristic and local existence of its own, there need be no sense of isolation or separation. A great athletic event can call out an expression of this common enthusiasm, but there is no reason why it should not extend to something more than cheering at the race. As to the interest which the LIT. takes in this movement there is little to say except in repetition and emphasis of last month's Notabilia, with this one amplification, that while the old charge of the LIT's pages being merely an arena for competition for editorships has already lost some of its force and sting, there is still abundant room for a wider increase of interest, and the path has been opened just far enough to make still further advance the more to be desired. To come to the last point, perhaps the most important of all, the libraries as they now stand are a type, in brick and stone and mortar, of the present moment. The one, with its dark alcoves and gloomy pillars, and furniture which seems kept for curiosity rather than for use, is the past-picturesque, even impressive, but inconvenient and unpractical; the other, modern in every stone, built for use, with beauty evolved out of its utility, arranged for convenience and safety, yet almost chilling from the very perfection of its machinery, is the future; and perhaps the very unlovely brick tunnel connecting them, and the incongruous appearance of the two buildings taken together may be considered to represent some of the disadvantages of the age of change, the present. In the new library we see both the gains and losses of the new order of things— we lose to a great extent the presence and atmosphere of the books themselves, and have to trust largely to the tender mercies of a most prosaic and uninspiring catalogue. We feel it hard to realize that making the books inaccessible is in any way beneficial, but once we have accepted this side of the situation as a necessary evil, we are pre |