wuz. Frum thet time on he kep' gettin' more locoed all the time. Ez soon ez he wuz up outer bed he took a day off an' rode the old mule,―rode him bare-back until he wuz weak in the knees. The old man fired him several times, but he always come back in the spring when ther' wuz broncs to break an' the old man always took him on again. At last a little old colt he wuz brandin' give him a kick in the back thet killed him. His folks sent out fur the body to be buried in town an' wuz purty much cut up, I reckon; but they wuz spared a lot o' trouble when he come over yere." P. P. Crosbie. THE CARAVAN. On through the burning sand, Under the burning sky, With the sun like a glowing brand, And the hot wind singing by, Where for endless miles on either hand The shimmering deserts lie. Night stalks over the plain, And the rushing whirlwinds roar; And you cry for rest from your pain, For the town that waits before. And yet for the sake of the empty gain H. A. B. THE OUTSIDE DORMITORY: PRO AND CON. it may seem trite to speak of the rapid growth of Harvard during the able administration of President Eliot, but it is to this growth that we owe many of the problems which confront us today. Not the least of these is the dormitory system. When the size of the University rendered the college buildings inadequate to supply the needs of the student body, and made it impossible for all men to room on the Yard, the old life of Harvard as a college was at an end. Henceforth she was the University, and as such had to meet new conditions. Many of the students were scattered widely through the boarding-houses of Cambridge, often distant from the centre of University activity. To meet the demand the outside domitory grew up. The effect of this new factor on the structure of our social life has been variously estimated. As a rule, it has been unequivocally condemned. It is not the purpose of this article to attempt either a justification of the outside dormitories or to attack them, but merely to suggest some of the more obvious advantages and disadvantages of the system. To consider the question from a purely material standpoint, the University has apparently been injured financially by the outside dormitories. Every year there are a certain number of college rooms which are not rented and which represent just that much dead loss to the University. Furthermore, if it were not for the outside dormitories, the college authorities would have put up more buildings, and would have received at least a partial equivalent of the revenue which now goes to private investors. But the Corporation probably had a fixed and definite policy in not erecting dormitories. Harvard, like almost every other college in this country, is bound to rely largely on voluntary gifts for its support and improvements Therefore, it would seem unwise for the Corporation to spend money for objects which might come as gifts. If the college built dormitories of its own, prospective donors of such useful articles would be far less enthusiastic about their benefactions. The goose and her golden egg must not be frightened away. Again a new and somewhat unexpected justification has been found for the outside dormitories, namely to placate the wounded feelings of some of our legislators in the Great and General Court, who desire to tax the University property. That this direful event should ever happen is extremely unlikely, and yet it would seem wise to keep down agitation in this direction. The outside dormitories, the existence of which is due wholly to the presence of the University, are taxed and freely taxed. In this way the University, while not taxed itself, practically creates taxable property. Thus some of our law-makers are enabled to reconcile the exemption of the University property from taxation with their tender consciences. These considerations, however, are trivial in comparison with the social aspect of the outside dormitories. It must be admitted that Harvard is not held together by the same bonds of common interest that were active a quarter of a century ago. This, we are told, is the logical result of Harvard indifference, Harvard snobbishness and Harvard exclusiveness. On the contrary, it is the result of the lack of a social unit. We have no means of moulding a dominant feeling common to the University, no way of putting pressure on rough places. We are too individualistic to be firmly united. As everyone knows, before the development of the elective system the class was the social unit. The daily lectures and recitations were prescribed year by year, and a man met only his classmates in his courses. Now it is often a toss-up whether one sits next a freshman or a third-year graduate student. The elective system, whatever its advantages, has destroyed one social unit. This factor, together with the lack of accommodations in college buildings and the consequent partial isolation of many men from the centre of college life seem a sufficient reason for the lack of esprit de corps. But where do the outside dormitories enter the problem? The Mount Auburn Street buildings are the result of this loss of esprit de corps. They may have ag gravated it and intensified it, but they are not primarily responsible for it. The cutside dormitories drew men from the Yard, and the reasons for the exodus are not far to seek. Probably a primary one was a desire for cleanliness, a desire which the college authorities seemed at that time to consider unwarranted and presumptuous. Again the system of assignment of Yard rooms was unsatisfactory. These conditions are now being changed; but the harm is done. The tendency to build luxurious and expensive dormitories, such as we have on Mount Auburn Street, is found in colleges other than our own. Our neighbors at New Haven, for instance, with all their so-called democracy, have a building owned and operated by the college, which equals in "luxury" anything which we have here. At Princeton conditions are better, but she, too, has her exclusive buildings. Now if buildings of this nature are inevitable in a large college under modern conditions, as the facts would seem to show, is it not better that the college should not have a hand in breaking down democratic institutions in this way? The authorities at Harvard have taken no direct part in the "segregation of the rich." Indirectly the Corporation may have caused to a certain extent the existing conditions. Not only was no efficient effort made to supply men with quarters in college buildings or to make the existing ones comfortable, bu: Massachusetts was dismantled as a dormitory and turned into two very inferior lecture rooms. This seems a distinct mistake. That the associations and traditions of Massachusetts should be destroyed without adequate reason appears indefensible. As a lecture hall it is a mere shell, unhallowed as it is useless. If "the Yard is the heart of Harvard," why should one of the arteries be cut out and put by itself to wither? In consideration of the fact that the sentiment connected with the Yard buildings is the one attraction for a great many men, any loss of sentiment reduces the drawing power of the Yard. As the leaders in undergraduate life, the men who form public opinion, are scattered through the private dormitories the common ties which hold the University together are weakened. But the most pernicious effect of the Mount Auburn Street dormitories, according to the opponents of the system, is the hard and fast line which they draw between the rich and poor. This ought to be stated advisedly, realizing fully that by no means all the men in the Yard are poor, any more than are all the men on Mount Auburn Street rich, in the accepted sense of the term. This "gold coast" then, is held a menace to our democracy and our dearest traditions. A man working his way through college cannot fraternize with a man in one of these buildings, the contrast is too great. No matter how real may be the mutual interest and desire for a closer relationship, any strong and lasting friendship is rendered practically impossible by the conditions of life of the two men. It is said that if all men were in college buildings true democracy would flourish. The distinction between the rich and the poor would be blurred; the rich would have no chance to congregate by themselves. The individual would then have a fairer chance to gain recognition by his own efforts, he would be in closer touch with his fellows. If all men were gathered again in the Yard, a "true college life" could be established. But can it fairly be said that men stay away from the Yard through any wish to live apart from their fellows, or that they consciously mar that "true college life?" The force of environment, purely external conditions, tend to lead one class of men to Mount Auburn Street, rather than to the Yard. They would sacrifice as much for Harvard as any other man. Will their location hinder their usefulness to the University? After all, Harvard's loss of esprit de corps is due largely to her size: it has been often repeated. We have suffered, perhaps more than our neighbors, because we are bigger. This is a transitional period for the University; it seems that the professional schools had been sufficiently developed and that more attention may now be given to the solidification of the component parts. If the outside dormitories really threaten to hinder our progress toward this goal, time will find some remedy for the evil. J. O'H. |