We published in our last issue a notice of the '87 class dinner. The classes at Harvard are now divided into so many groups, each little group thinking its own thoughts, having its own assemblings, and giving its own dinners, that we would fain forget that larger bond, the class, that binds them all together. In just such manner does the bond of our alma mater become indistinct in our eyes. But when college days are past, the difference is at once felt! How valuable all reunions, of college or class, then become to us; they speak to us like voices from the past. Why can not some of this spirit be exhibited while we yet remain together?

Of course the exertions used, to make class dinners as entertaining as possible, are in some measure responsible for the state of the desire to attend these dinners. But surely class dinners have always been the call for an amount of eloquence, wit, and jollity that on its own merits invites attendance. The college has many ways of keeping college spirit alive; the class has fewer, and certainly among these few, there is not one that answers its purpose so well as the dinner. Therefore, however much we may be engrossed with our own particular set, let us not forget that we of a class are together filled with like hopes and aspirations. Ought this not to create feeling of inter-class friendship?