The Monthly which comes out today is interesting chiefly on account of a short article by Professor Hollis, defending the present system of electing the athletic committee. He says: "How a change in the method of electing the committee would affect this (the election) does not appear. There is no reason to think that a body of students in mass meeting would exercise better judgment than the small body of men who now select the committee. In fact, the weight of argument is all the other way. A mass meeting is very likely to be led by a few men, or by a secret society, and in most cases the slate would be arranged before hand."
There has been a feeling for some years that the method of electing the athletic committee is not representative enough and has not produced entirely satisfactory results. To be concrete, many have felt that during the past years there have been men on the committee who have been so well qualified for the position as other undergraduates, who would probably have been elected by a mass meeting. On the other hand, there is a popular superstition that when students gather together in a mass meeting, they immediately lose their heads and vote for the wrong man. Even granting that this may be partially true, it seems that the small body of students who now choose the committee might be more representative. As it is now, the Cycling Association and the Cricket Club have as many votes as the Football Association and the Crew. Professor Hollis, has however, succeeded in meeting most of the objections, and his article is well worth reading.
As for the rest of the number, it is not particularly absorbing. An article on "Emerson and Carlyle," although scholarly in treatment and fairly original in conception, is too heavy for undergraduate reading.
There are two stories whose scenes are laid in France, both fairly interesting, but not overloaded with point. The first one, "A Mysterious Recognition," written in the vein of Poe, is a detective story of modern Faris, told, however, with a simplicity of style that saves it from being melo-dramatic. "Peterson's Scar," is a forcibly written but exceedingly unpleasant story.
The poetry is about the same as that which usually appears in the Monthly; it flows on smoothly enough and seems to have a good deal of meaning, which, however, on close analysis dwindles to very little. As a whole, this number, entirely creditable from a technical point of view, is too serious; there is a lack of the humor, which covers a multitude of literary sins.