Nothing so impresses one with the wonder of this country as to delve into its early history and draw comparisons with the present. The same is true of the University, following the country's fortunes almost from the first settlement. So it is not amiss, on the 150th anniversary of the burning of Harvard Hall, to read the quaint letter of President Holyoke's daughter, and realize the changes of so many years. Apparatus estimated at the value of fifteen hundred dollars, five thousand books and pamphlets-the largest library in America-and some furniture were lost in the Harvard Hall fire. As a result, "Our college is now the poorest on the continent." The material statement of these facts thrown in contrast with the University of 1913, which directly or indirectly was engaged in building operations to the extent of four and one-half millions of dollars, gives a starling conception of its growth; and in the spirit and atmosphere of the old letter can be felt something of the struggles which produced it.