of our age and position. The very good view of this subject expressed in the introductory address of the Editors from the Class of '55, did not quite succeed in excluding everything of the kind from their pages, though there was a perceptible improvement in this respect. Let not the improvement end with them, but let it be our endeavor in the coming year to banish art and restore nature, the true, honest expression of Student nature, of which we need never be ashamed, to the pages of our cherished and justly-prized Magazine. Many other phazes of humbug must remain untouched for want of time to do them justice. The shade of Prof. Richter howls mournfully a request to be noticed, but I can only mention his name, and leave the rest to the memory of my readers. The "Analysis and Synthesis of the Sentence" gazes imploringly in my face, but I can only glance back a denial, and look away. A faint sigh from "Prize Debates" is borne to my ear by the midnight wind, but I pity their wasting disease and approaching dissolution, and leave them for a post mortem examination. Let me not be thought to assert that there are no deserved reputations, no honorable elections, or no good writers in college. I have only attempted to show that there is a prominent element of humbug in college reputation, politics, and writing, as a general rule, with exceptions, of course, in each particular. I hope at some future time to be able to show that there are realities, stern realities, in our college life. fortiter, Fideliter, Feliciter. THESE words have been adopted, at a regularly convened meeting of the Class of 1858, as their motto, and engraved, by their direction, on the stamp or seal of the class. We delight to record a fact so honorable to the classic taste and correct feeling of our younger brethren, as the adoption of this beautiful sentiment as the watchword of the class. A philosophic mind is not satisfied with the passive admiration of the beautiful. It seeks to analyze its emotions, and, where the case requires it, to go even into detail. The words before us, when examined in this spirit, illustrate several important principles in language. The first thing to be observed is the similarity of form which these words present. Each of them consists of two parts; viz, the crude form, so called, and the adverbial termination ter, which has not yet been satisfactorily explained. Thus, fortiter=forti+ter; fideliter=fideli+ter; feliciter feliciter. Of these crude forms, the first, forti, is perhaps a stem-word; the two last, fideli and felici, are derivatives. The next thing to be observed is the alliteration. Besides the homoioteleuton, or the resemblance in the termination, which has naturally arisen from the repetition of the adverbial form, there is an intentional or designed alliteration which consists in each word beginning with f. There is a disposition in most nations to be pleased with alliteration, as well as with rhyme. This fondness for alliteration and rhyme is founded on the great law of attraction, assimilation, or elective affinity, which exerts so powerful an influence on the forms and combinations of language generally. An alliteration is generally lost in a translation. Another thing to be observed is that each word, which is here an adverb, embodies a whole proposition. This embodying of a whole proposition in one word is not a process which takes place at random in reference to any member of the full proposition. The word which performs this office must have a logical prominence over the other words in the original proposition. The original or full proposition here contains an objective combination. The adverb expresses the object, and has the prominence of which we speak over the other members. The last thing to be observed is the entire absence of any connective. The omission of the conjunction concentrates the attention of the mind on the separate thoughts, which thus acquire a prominence or greater logical value. The combination is apparently trimembral. A little attention, however, will show that the two first propositions stand to each other in a copulative relation, and that these two stand to the third in a causal relation. Thus, the whole sentiment, if fully drawn out, may be expressed thus: si fortiter agamus, et si fideliter agamus, feliciter agemus, a worthy thought a Christianization of pagan lore. Ite, juvenes, agite fortiter, agite fideliter, feliciter agite. J. W. G. The Adventures of Peleg Washington Spriggins, Undergraduate. SPRIGGINS is romantic. His face which beams with a poetic fire; his eyes in a "fine frenzy rolling;" his long locks flung carelessly back from his high forehead; his wide turn-down collar-all bespeak the imaginative temperament. Spriggins is a lover of the fair sex. He believes that they are likewise intensely appreciative of his merits. It is absolutely impossible for them to escape the deluge of quotation, anecdote, and studied wit, with which he overwhelms every one with whom he converses. He admires Byron, and patronizes Shakspeare, extols Alexander Smith, and terms Tennyson vague. He generally carries on such conversation so satisfactorily that the ladies say, "What a well-read man Mr. Spriggins is!" and always after avoid his company. But Spriggins' peculiar forte is that kind of talk which some people irreverently call "bosh." His recipe is something as follows: 30 parts Love, 20 parts Poetry, 15 parts Flattery, the whole infused with the smallest possible portion of sense. N. B."Administer according to the age and habits of the patient." Other people change the proportions somewhat. Some adding more flattery, and taking away the poetry; others using more sentiment or love, and putting the gas out-of the recipe. But the above is the "real origi nal Spriggins' Mixture.” It is not regarding the N. B. that injures him in the estimation of some persons. They cannot bear the indiscriminate doses which he gives, regardless of circumstances. Yet the deluded Spriggins fancies they welcome the potion, because they make no demonstration of dislike. Spriggins one evening called on Miss Cribbs. Pardon a digression while I relate the peculiarly romantic manner in which they became acquainted. Spriggins went into the cemetery one day to muse on the vanity of human life and the worthlessness of its aspirations. So deeply engaged was he in meditation, that, ere he was aware, the sun had gone down, and on arriving at the gate he found it shut. He was a prisoner. Stone and iron forbade his exit. This, however, he deemed no great affliction, when he saw a fair form hastily coming up the walk. She would bear him company. Romantic situation! "It seems, Miss," said Spriggins, politely doffing his beaver, "that we are barred from the living world by iron and stone.'” "Sir?" said she, seemingly doubtful as to his meaning. "I mean the gate is shut," said he briefly. "Yes, Sir," answered she, bashfully. By this time two or three ragged little boys had gathered round the gate, grinning and gazing through the bars, as they would at the monkeys in a menagerie. "Young man," said Spriggins, addressing a freckle-faced boy with a dilapidated pair of trowsers, "do you know where the keeper of the gate resides?" "Somewhere round here, I guess," replied he, with a peculiar grin, "I don't 'xactly know what house. Hullo, Bill!" shouted he to a boy in the distance. "Come here! here's a man and gal in the graveyard, and they wants to get out. Do you know where the feller lives what's got the key?" "No, I don't," said Bill, as he came up to the place together with one or two men whom the shouting had attracted. There was now quite a little crowd assembled. They seemed to enjoy the joke highly. More so than Spriggins, who continued to institute vain inquiries as to the whereabouts of the gate-keeper. Finally, some one suggested the idea of a ladder, and under the promise of a sixpence some of the boys went in search of one. They returned, however, in a short time, saying that none could be found. What was to be done? Spriggins never lost sight of that true dignity which it was his duty to maintain, but alternately comforted the fair damsel, and suggested expedients of escape. At last some one thought of boards and barrels. A temporary scaffolding was erected, and they were freed from their romantic yet awkward captivity. Spriggins accompanied the young lady home. She thanked him earnestly, and asked him to call. He was overjoyed at this truly happy termination of his adventure, and went to his room with a light spirit. The next day he performed two deeds worthy of his heart and head. He sought out the freckled-faced boy with the dilapidated trowsers, and gave him twenty-five cents; and also wrote and sent the following sonnet to Miss Cribbs, the lady whom he had rescued : SONNET TO ONE WHO WILL KNOW. Last eve I walked within the graveyard old, This effort of genius completely captivated Miss Cribbs. Spriggins was ever welcome to her house. True, as she told her confidants, there were some little peculiarities in his manner; but then he was so talented, and could write such beau-tiful poetry! This call of Spriggins, from which I digressed, was one of those customary ones which his friendship for Miss C. caused him to make. As our hero walked gayly towards her residence he had no presentiment that anything unusual was about to happen; yet upon this call was depending Spriggins' happiness. So near are we to fate before we feel her power. But let me not anticipate. Imagine him arrived at the house of the lady, that the usual compliments have been interchanged; then, of course, comes the discussion of the affairs of their acquaintances. They talk over Miss Such-a-one's flirtation with Mr. Thingum-bob, how she laughs at him behind his back, and flatters him when present; how particularly attentive Mr. X. is to Miss Y.; that she thinks him the handsomest gentleman she ever saw, while he perfectly worships her. "For my part," said Miss Cribbs spitefully, "I can't see what he finds attractive in her; a little silly thing-always laughing and giggling. Some people call her handsome, just because she has pretty features. I like to see expression." "I saw them out riding on horseback to-day," said Spriggins. "She is a very graceful rider." |