The leading article in the September number of the Graduates' Magazine is the speech delivered last June before the Harvard Chapter of Phi Beta Kappa by Hon. James Bryce. In a discussion of the eternally perplexing problem of Progress, it presents rather the difficulties in the way of answering the question,--"Has mankind on the whole advanced?"--than any actual definition or answer. Mr. Bryce points out that material progress, which is obvious and easy to determine, by no means involves intellectual and moral progress. The sum of human happiness, which ought to be a certain index of progress, cannot possibly be measured, either as to quantity or quality. The conclusion, as stated by Mr. Bryce in his final paragraph, is scarcely gratifying to the generally cock-sure twentieth century optimist. "The bark that carries man and his fortunes traverses an ocean where the winds are variable and the currents unknown. He can do little to direct its course, and the mists that shroud the horizon hang as thick and low as they did when the voyage began."

Next in general interest will probably stand Miss Marie Corelli's narrative of the rescue from maltreatment and ruin of "Harvard House" at Stratford-on-Avon, the home of John Harvard's mother. Miss Corelli was largely instrumental in the purchase of the house by Mr. Morris, who has recently presented it to the University; and she tells her story with much fervor.

But for those who enjoy the "absolute shall", the dogmatic assertion that fundamental reforms can and must be put through without a moment's delay, Professor Beale's "Reorganization of the University," will prove delightful. We have heard the "College system" recommended, but Professor Beale commands it. The article is fairly melodramatic; each sentence, sharp, clear-cut, sweeping, provides new excitement. When we have finished, we wonder breathlessly how Harvard can continue to exist if all the things Professor Beale says are true.

An appreciative sketch of Mrs. Agassiz, the first president of Radcliffe, a review of Professor James's "Pragmatism," which ought to arouse curiosity and interest in every one who is troubled by ideas that refuse to be cleared up, and an article by Professor Richards on "The New Outlook in Chemistry," pointing out some of the great advances yet to be made in chemical research, are the remaining longer prose articles. Besides these we have ex-Governor Long's speech for the semi-centennial of the class of 1857, so charming that one can only regret that it is so short, and a selection from the recently published "Ode to Harvard" by Witter Bynner '02. Many have felt that this ode marks a new epoch in Harvard literature; at all events its vigor and vividness and charm make it a poem that no Harvard man--and this is especially true of undergraduates today--can afford to pass by.

In the regular departments of the magazine two things call for special comment: Professor Hart's lively rendering of the usually not thrilling University notes, and the 1907 Class Poem, by H. Hagedorn, Jr., here printed under "Varia." The heading "Varia" might, indeed, be well applied to the entire number, for it includes such varied subjects as literature, science, biography, history, philosophy, and even prophecy