days nor stay the fleeting hours, for the same voice is bidding them to hasten and is calling us to take our places in the great rank and file of thinkers and workers. There are vacancies along that line; now and then some soldier, weary and worn, has been borne away to die, leaving his armor brightly burnished from constant, faithful use; and again, some one has fallen asleep at his post, or has slipped away to seek a life of greater ease. We have come now where we can hear the conflict raging; louder and yet louder comes the battle din, but, far above all the noise of that mighty warfare, do we hear the stern orders that bid us come and fight the battles of right and truth. Yes, the orders come to us, whether we will or not, and then comes the query, are we ready?

Something more than three years ago, some of us looked upon these grey old castles for the first time. The brightest dreams of ardent childhood were realized when we stood as students upon the Campus of Yale, and our hearts beat with an honest enthusiasm as they told us how those whom we knew as grey-haired men, stooping with years and wisdom, had come here, puny boys like us, and had grown up strong and vigorous, as they grouped in reverence at the feet of venerated teachers in this Temple of Learning. Bright were our thoughts, and lofty were our aspirations then, for never did the rising sun of College life light up a brighter morning, and many were the vows we breathed of faithfulness to ourselves and fidelity to the cause of Learning. We felt that we had time enough for day-dreams and castlebuilding, and yet time enough for work. We thought that there could hardly be an end to the years of culture that were so invitingly spread out before us, and we looked, with almost miserly satisfaction, upon the broad fields of study and learning through which we knew we were to pass. But now, when we stand almost at the very point that bounded our horizon then, how narrow seems the space over which we have passed, and how meager the culture we have gained by plucking here and there a flower or blade of grass, while we passed by the drooping heads of golden grain. Some of us even there are, to whom College life has been like the enchanted ground over which Bunyan's pilgrims passed, where were many inviting arbors, in which, if a weary pilgrim sit or sleep, he might never rise again, or waken from his slumber. In such arbors, too many of us have sat down and slumbered, while some, faithful, earnest ones, have overcome their weariness by plodding steadily on, and, while it is hard for all of us to make ready to meet our future, doubly hard is it for those whose energies have been paralyzed by inactivity, to gird on even the slightest armor.

Alike have the influences of our instruction and our associations tended to diminish our feelings of individuality, and to lessen our appreciation of personal responsibility. We have labored here upon tasks imposed by others, who have been the architects of what they would have us build; but, ere long, we shall find ourselves compelled to be both architects and builders. Here we have had cares and joys in common with a hundred others, and by this community of feeling have the cares been lightened and the joys increased, for, even the humblest of us has always known that a hundred strong right arms would gladly interpose to shield him from an undeserved blow, no matter how powerful its source; but, when once we stand upon the farther shore, which we are so swiftly nearing, we must have as our motto, "Every man for himself and God for us all."

Ah, well, brethren, it is serious business, this living in God's world to do his work, and you and I will feel it more than now, when we find "our heads besprent with hoary frost." God grant, that, when the future of to-day shall become our present, and we shall find ourselves standing along the battle line, whereever the Master may place us, we may not be selfish enough to refuse a crust of bread or cup of water to a weary, toil-worn brother, nor proud enough to forget the Author of the Golden Rule.

J. L. S.

College Music.

THE question of the origin of music leads us back into the very earliest times. Before the painter had learned to transfer nature's glowing tints to the canvas, or the sculptor to carve her forms of beauty in the enduring marble, before even the poet had arranged in flowing rhymes his tales of heroism and love, mankind had discovered the magic influence of music; and as this was the first of the fine arts in point of time, so its influence has been most extended and most powerful. There is no little significance in the old tradition which told the Greeks that they owed this sweetest of sciences to their fostering deity, Apollo; for music, more than any of them, is taught by nature-the creation of God's own hand. Indeed, all na5*

VOL. XXVI.

ture is vocal; the birds sing, the wind whistles, and a thousand objects around, all soulless as they are, make music the whole day long. How then could childhood's voice help catching the spirit so universally manifested, and how could manhood ever forget so beautiful a lesson thus early learned? It could not be; and from the world's birth, music has come down to us a precious gift of heaven to man.

That sublime seven-toned harmony of the spheres, as they revolved in their celestial courses, has been put to silence by advancing knowledge; but there is music on earth, and music in heaven, that science can never take away from us.

The origin of Student-songs is unknown. It may be, that the discipuli of Plato and Socrates, of Epicurus and Zeno, as they walked in the gardens or on the porticos where they learned from those great masters the deep speculations of philosophy, found a pleasant recreation in song. Alcibiades, we know, was a skillful musician; and it is not at all unlikely that he was the President of some Grecian Beethoven Society, and led his choir in singing with a hearty good will, some ancient "Landlord! fill the flowing bowl."

In the Christian countries of Europe, music was cultivated from very early times for church purposes, and in the monastic schools of the ninth and tenth centuries was one branch of education. This fostered and increased that fondness for music which universally existed in the northern countries of Europe, especially in Germany-where another custom somewhat later tended to increase this result. This was the practice of entertaining traveling singers, who walked through the country rehearsing ballads for a livelihood. In this way many poor young men afterward were accustomed to reach the university towns; and bands of Students often passed their vacations in thus traveling and singing. These two causes, and probably others now unknown, led the Students of the Middle ages, particularly those in the German universities, to sing a great deal; and they came to be possessed of many songs, both ballads of a popular character and those properly called Student songs, some written in German and others in the Latin tongue. Large collections of these songs are still extant, and many are yet sung; while the custom of singing has continued ever since in those universities. In Yale, as in other American Colleges, singing has always formed a part of the religious exercises of the College; and until recently, the College choir furnished the music at Commencements and Junior Exhibitions. Since 1812, too, there has always been a regularly organized society for the cultivation of Vocal music; and long before that time a flourishing instrumental so

ciety existed. Student-songs, however, properly so called, were only introduced here about twenty years ago. They were at first confined to the secret societies; but soon found their way out from their walls, and became a part of the exercises of Spoon Exhibitions and similar College performances, gradually growing into popular favor. At this time there was a great deal of musical talent and enthusiasm in College, and the Beethoven Society took the lead in introducing new tunes; while Francis M. Finch was ever ready to foster the growing fashion with his beautiful songs. His "Smoking Song" is sung in all our Colleges; and students will always have occasion to remember with gratitude the man who contributed so much to their enjoyment. It will be noticed that scarcely any songs in our collections were written before 1845 or 1846; and yet the large and increasing number of "Songs of Yale," would do credit to any German University, and are unequaled in our own country,

Indeed, their very number and variety have led us into this evil, that we do not have enough old, standard songs. Most of those written for Jubilees, Spoon Exhibitions and similar occasions, are sung a few times and then forgotten; so that our poets have very little inducement to put forth their best efforts. Even our society songs we are constantly changing. Alma Mater is the only song in which we can all join to sing the praise of Yale; and no more than half a dozen can be appropriately called College songs, casting aside such as were written for special occasions or for single classes. Would it not be better if, instead of thus constantly changing our songs, we could have more permanent ones which shall deserve constant use and be popular for many years to come? Not that we should confine ourselves entirely to such. There are at least thirty tunes well known by all of us; and it is certainly practicable to have ten or fifteen old familiar songs, such as we now have in Gaudeamus, Alma Mater and the Smoking Song, which all our Students on all occasions could singclassic songs, dear to all for their beauty and venerable for their antiquity.

The tunes which we sing have come from various sources. Gaudeamus, Lauriger, Horatius and Integer Vitæ, the grandest and richest of them all, are old German Student songs; some, of which Sparkling and Bright is a sample, are old English glees; many, such as Alma Mater, are or have been popular melodies; a few, as Rolling Home and Suoni la Tromba, are Italian airs; others, for example, Shool and Cocachelunk, were probably written by American Students. "Say, Sisters, will you meet us" and the Hebrew Children, with

others of the same kind, have been gathered from such out of the way places as camp meetings.

How much singing enters into our College life cannot be realized by those who are not acquainted with Student-character, and we shall not ourselves feel all its influences until we have gone out into the world and felt its loss. We were ushered into this College world to the hymn so much despised then, but afterwards better appreciated:

"We think it is no sin, Sirs,

To take the Freshman in, Sirs,"

and we sing all the way through our College course, till, at its close, we join in our parting song, and tearfully bid each other good bye, with its echoes still ringing in our ears. Who of us will ever forget the times when we used to stand before the Athenæum in our zealous Freshman enthusiasm, and amuse the Sophomores with our first attempts at Gaudeamus and Lauriger; or how we marched around, proclaiming to all the world the solemn fact that "Biennials are a bore;" or those summer evenings when the still waters of the bay reflected the golden clouds of sunset on their placid bosom, as we "rested oars" and sung till the stars shone forth in the sky. Happy hours! They, at least, will never come back to us laden with sad recollections. And when we shall have left these College walls our songs will not be forgotten. We shall meet, some of us, in after years to sing them again; or, if this privilege be denied us, we will sing them in the quietness of our own hearts. Then, when their melodies shall come floating to our ears over the hills of intervening years,

"Our faded hours shall revive their flowers,

And the past shall live around us."

Of the influence which is exerted by singing in College, much might be said, far more than may be here. It is a pleasant and useful relaxation to the mind after study. It greatly tends to promote good fellowship and pleasant intercourse among us, for seldom do hearts jar where voices accord. Its tendency is to elevate and purify; it does benefit the moral character. Shakespeare is right when he says

"The man that hath no music in himself

Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils."

Nowhere in the lives of musicians do you meet with abandoned, wicked men. Some of them have fallen into crime, but just there they lost the beautiful spirit of music which dwells only in virtuous. hearts. But the greatest and most valuable of the influences exerted