A NUMBER of our exchanges have recently insisted upon the vital importance of the study of political science in a country where the government, like ours, is in the hands of the people. A few weeks ago the Magenta published an article of similar import. It was written by some enthusiast, who desired the formation of a political club, where the leading questions of the day could be discussed and settled by the wise brains of a dozen students.

Such an organization would probably be impracticable; and even if it were formed, its advantage would be questionable. What we want and need is, not the ability to criticise the characters and actions of the politicians of the moment, which can be easily obtained by paying a decent amount of attention to the columns of a daily paper; it is a familiarity with the fundamental principles of political economy, and, above all, with the Constitution of the United States. Every citizen cannot be expected to be a profound statesman, but every citizen can be, and is expected to be, able to understand something of the theory of the government under which he lives, and to give a rational account of the principles for which he casts his vote. The powers that be in Harvard realize this fact. In the second half of their Sophomore year our fellow-students are required to devote a portion of their time to the study of the subjects in question, and, if they do not neglect their work, it is reasonable to suppose that they will learn enough to render them intelligent and useful members of the political community. The comments of a skilled instructor during a four months' course would be more beneficial than the disconnected arguments of more or less unpractised debaters during as many years.

Unfortunately, the greater part of the present Sophomore class have failed to perceive this fact. Taking advantage of the anticipation examinations so liberally offered by the Faculty, they rushed to the examination-room, eager to be freed from all presumably incongenial required work. A day or two of "cramming" had been enough to give them a momentary knowledge of their subjects; this knowledge they poured into their books as freely and as thoughtlessly as they would have poured water into a bowl, and their heads were left, as far as political science went, in a condition very like that of a pitcher which has been turned upside down.

It is of course too late to remonstrate against this proceeding: but it is not too late to urge the importance of the studies that have been so disregarded; to advise those who have rushed at lightning speed through the pages of Alden and of Fawcett to pass some of their leisure moments in going over the same path once more, with less expedition and more care; to recommend to their attention the seventh and eighth courses of elective philosophy; nor to suggest to the students who have not yet taken up these subjects the propriety of studying them with attention.

Anticipation in general we should encourage. A knowledge of the genealogy of Charlemagne, or of Dr. Campbell's canons, or of the relative position of the satellites of Saturn, or even of the elements of Intellectual Philosophy, is by no means indispensable; and if a man's natural taste leads him another way, the sooner he rids himself of these disagreeable encumbrances the better. But political science is a matter of practical importance in every-day life. Citizenship is perhaps a burden, but it is a burden that every man must bear. A knowledge of the alphabet is indispensable to an intelligent writer, and an acquaintance with the A B C of government is equally indispensable to every intelligent citizen.