The news that "Yale is becoming the intellectual and acsthetic center of American culture" is being received by Harvard men with interest, by Yale men with apprehension. The venerable institution at New Haven, as the "Yale News" informs us, "has, in fact, been going through a miniature Renaissance. . . . Active political clubs and stormy Union meetings have attested to the reawakened interest in politics. Lectures have been received with the same enthusiasm, and even musical recitals have had an unprecedented attendance. This state of affairs has aroused the apprehension of "several acute observers" lest the symbol of the bulldog be no longer quite apropos. Donald Stewart has remarked that the bulldog is characterized among other things by his deep chest, undershot jaw, and "the complete absence of any intelligence." Surely this figure completely fails to symbolize the new era at Yale.

In view of this situation it is astonishing to find that the "Yale News" still clings to the idea of the bulldog. Can it be that certain elements in the University view with regret the metamorphosis of their institution? Are they unwilling to see Yale become the center of "intellectual activity in the field of art and literature?"

It would seem an easy matter for the properly constituted authorities to selects a more fitting epitome of the new day. The power of tradition, however, has proved itself unexpectedly strong. To be sure the "Yale News" has gone so far as to hint that the bulldog be equipped with glasses, but this is at best but an unsatisfactory compromise. Certainly the situation must be faced, but--as the "Yale News" so aptly remarks--"how close an analogy the bulldog bears to the modern undergraduate is a question which the future must decide."