ONE half of the Senior Class has received blank books, in which autobiographies of its members are to be written in the form of answers to a set of printed questions sent out by the Class Secretary. The books will then be handed over to the other half of the Class, to receive their quota. Such, in theory, is the formation of the Class Book; in practice, however, it is to be feared that many of the lives will be carelessly written, many of the questions answered slightingly, or not at all. This was the case in previous years; one gentleman, in '74, handing in three lines as the epitome of his career. Now the custom of preparing Class-Book is not a mere form, or started off-hand by some class which has left this as its valueless legacy; the custom is, rather, of long growth, and confirmed at every step of its development by ample testimonies to its necessity. So long ago as 1800, at least, a need was felt of some record of the lives of fellow-classmen about to graduate, and a member of that class purchased a book, in which he wrote out brief accounts of his fellows. This became more or less a habit, and the Class-Book of 1806 has now been returned to the Library, on the death of the last member of that class. Later, men undertook to write out their own lives, but, not knowing what to put down, they often ran off into stories of college scrapes and nonsense, that the sober sense of ten years later impelled them to cut out and destroy. After this, Mr. Sibley, to whom we really owe the reform and building up of this practice, undertook, in the year 1849, to see every man in each graduating class, and request him to write out a biography under his direction. In 1856, when he accepted the position of Librarian, he took pains to hand to each successive Class Secretary, a list of questions to show the students, as an assistance in writing out heir history. From this it was but a short step to the present system of blank-books and printed lists.

We have introduced this rather long account to show it was to supply a want really felt that this custom has originated, and the reality of this want might be testified by the example of a number of gentlemen who, in middle life, have undertaken to make up the class-book neglected by their class when in College. But there are reasons, in re ipsa, amply sufficient to lead a thoughtful man to spend the half-hour necessary to answer the questions asked. Very few of us will be great men, but almost all will have descendants, either of our own or of our near relatives, to whom an account of our early lives will be of great interest, and the genealogies may supply many a break made by the loss of the "family tree" or "family Bible," in its passage from hand to hand. Nor is the use of our autobiographies limited to our own race; the Triennial Catalogue, Lives of Harvard Graduates, and other publications must draw their matter largely from these pages. Sometimes a false modesty may deter a man from answering the questions asked him, but this is quite unreasonable; none of the questions are strictly personal in their nature, but inquire about facts known already to many persons, and that it would be simply pride or priggishness to attempt to conceal. Let us hope, then, that the Class of '75 will not fail of its duty in this regard, and may set an example to be followed by future undergraduates.