Football games at New Haven are hearty experiences. Yale is an educational Xanadu: the Harkness bells play the 1812 Overture; heelers for the Yale Daily News (once, the oldest college daily) roll a gigantic soccer ball around the Old Campus; Mellons sprinkle millions into the University coffers; secret societies practice strange rites.

Despite these features, which make Yale the eminent school it is, much has happened in the past few years to discourage sympathetic observers. A while back, Yalies were forced to wear ties during meals, a measure equivalent to giving waist coats to Hottentots. Then last year the students were put on probation after a bit of restlessness in the streets. Just two weeks ago, President A. Whitney Griswold returned to the classroom to teach a class and muffed the word "epistemology" (misdefined it, not misspelled it). Yale's friends all over cannot but ask themselves, "Is the old school slipping?"

All these development made the trip to New Haven important. For the visit gives us all a chance to renew our faith in Yale, to see that the boys are still freshly washed and pressed, still sing sentimental songs, believe in good fellowship. We hope that today's pilgrimage to the Gothic halls will reassure us that the old, solid collegiate virtues still flourish.