Such of us as departed for Cambridge last week-end with the prepossession that it is a fastness of solemn serenity and serious sobriety returned in another persuasion. Our ancient rivals opened their hearts and larders to us in no uncertain fashion. It is a great place. The traditional intellectuality of Harvard seems to have reached that point in its life cycle which is best characterized by the cant term of decadent. They are over the peak. Their manners and personal graces are those of the Restoration, their collective temperament a shade in the direction of Baudelaire. A more charming bevy of wastrels is not to be found, or a more hospitable. Many interesting points of contrast between them and us are immediately apparent. Impervious to the depressing influences of democracy, the Cambridge helots are obsequious. In New Haven one is often on the same terms with one's janitor as with one's room-mate. But the Harvard man never sees his janitor, save when he comes home in the morning and glimpses him at work on his shoes.

And these Harvard clubs are comparable to nothing. Not in New Haven, for example, could occur a royster such as that staged at the Hoosic-Whisick Club by the Dolphins, and order so secret, we are told, that the very members themselves do not know the members names. Out of pure gratitude be it said that all Yale was there in a body; in such numbers, in fact, that to cross the floor was a suicidal undertaking. Only at a Harvard party can one behold girls who are known to one's family shining in an atmosphere at once Rabelaisian and refined, overlooking the form and enjoying the substance of the spirit of revelry rampant.

Where are there such hosts as at Harvard? Where indeed? Harvard men are charming. The cannot be said to aim at, for the essentially are, good form. They have raised the genial practices of hedonism to the point of polished art. Half of them for instance, would no more think of studying without a glass and bottle at hand than the other half would of studying under any circumstances. The have the happy faculty of taking nothing seriously, least of all football: a virus of which Yale might do well to absorb a little. For intrinsic vigor and communal health we must cede ourselves the plam: Eli is in his prime, and John, some years older, has passed has. But his decline has something of the splendor of Imperial Rome. Yale Alumni Weekly.