The sixth number of the Advocate which appeared shortly before the Christmas recess is a very creditable number. The literary tone of most of the articles is above the average, and the editorials contain few statements which cannot be accepted without dispute. The position taken, however, is rather an ideal than an aetual one. The question is asked, "for whose benefit are these games and exhibitions given?" The possible answers considered are, "for the physical benefit of the men who participate in them," "for the honor of the institution which may indulge in them," and lastly, "for the benefit of the undergraduate, who honors out-of-door sport, and who supports it with his heartiest shout and his unbounded enthusiasm." The Advocate rightly says that the first answer is wrong, that the second is subordinate and that the third is or should be the correct answer. There is room for doubts whether the value of the second benefit enumerated is rightly estimated. It is true that recent con roversies have tended to show that among a large student body the desire for glory has overtopped the spirit of fair play, and that "win at any cost" has replaced "win fairly or not at all." Be this as it may there is a great benefit and value in the rivalry incited by intercollegiate athletics. If there were no glory in winning there would be occasion for the true lover of out of door sport "to support it with his heartiest shout and unbounded enthusiasm." The essence of sport is a struggle for glory and provided the rivalry is manly and healthful it is an element of the present system which cannot be spared.

"Violet and Orange Blossoms" is a pathetic story which ought to arouse our sympathy, but we cannot weep for we cannot find any reason for the poor poet's despair. Such tragic events are interesting when written about, but they do not happen nowadays. The picture of the poor poet burning his opera act by act, to keep himself from freezing while writing his poem is well written.

"Two leaves from My Journal" is short but very obscure. It requires several readings and some thought to discover its meaning.

A semi-allegory called "Prentiss of Yale" is the most pretentions story that has appeared for some time. The idea is a good one and is well worked out. The best part of the story is the description of the Texan dance which is vividly written, but from the abruptness of the change, has the effect of an interpolation. The story is not completed in this number, however, and the ending may give unity to the whole.

"My Negro Nurse" is a short sketch, with many interesting touches. The verse of the number partakes of usual sentimentality of college poetry. "Parting," is the best and contains some good lines.