Our esteemed contemporary, the Advocate, has been indulging in a little prophesying on its own account, and the result has been rather startling in its nature. Among the many happenings which this much-gifted prophet foretells for us, one at least we modestly assert will prove incorrect. Others, it is very probable, may be no more correct than this, but of those we do not speak, we lay no claims to the mysterious art of the seer.

We are told that, following the custom of many years, the faculty will refuse to recognize the anniversary of the nativity of him whom posterity has come to recognize as "First in peace, first in war, and first in the hearts of his countrymen." To prophesy this, it may be said, required no daring; a thing which always has happened, always will happen, it is safe to say.

Unfortunately for our prophets honor and fame, however, this year the custom of ages will be given up. For once the proper respect will be paid to the departed great; the birthday of the hero of the American Revolution will be honorably observed. On this day no recitation will be held, the college will be closed, even University 5 will be silent and deserted. The church bells will toll and college prayers will be suspended, in short there will be such a suspension of work and labor that we doubt the probability of having the walks cleaned of snow.

"But why," the prophet will ask, "comes such a radical change this year to upset all my calculations?"

Gentle, though erring prophet, the answer is because the 22d of February will come this year upon Sunday, and as the song tells us that "Every day will be Sunday bye and bye," we can confidently look forward to the time when the birthday of the another of that beautiful American fiction. The tale of the little hatchet, will be regularly observed by the college authorities.

The daily papers are to some extent commenting on the ill-judged action of the Washington Harvard Club in refusing to allow certain members of the alumni to join the club, the only ostensible reason for their refusal being the fact that the candidates in question were colored. In other respects they were admitted to be of sufficient merit to be enrolled among the august assembly which thus sets itself up to judge its fellow men. One of the rejected candidates was the gentleman graduated last June, who read a commencement part on the history of his race since the war.

We had always supposed that one graduate of Harvard was as good as another, unless the contrary were proved, and in this case the contrary does not seem to have been proved. We had supposed, moreover, that such race prejudices as these had long ago died away, if indeed they ever existed in a great degree at Harvard, and that a body of Harvard graduates brought together for the express purpose of fostering and renewing the pleasant reminiscences of college life, would not take such a backward step as our representatives seem to have done. We do not wonder that the outside press comment unfavorably upon this strange action. Harvard claims to open itself to all, to offer the advantages of study to each and all alike without distinction. If this be the case, a body of men whose very organization looks towards the advancement of Harvard and her interests certainly make a great mistake in reviving a race distinction which is fast dying out.

It is by no means the custom for college clubs to deny admission to those whose color may be somewhat darker than their associates. Yale has several clubs to which colored persons belong, and to them no objection has ever been raised.

Shall Harvard give place to Yale in a question like this?