THE Christmas number of the College Chronicle rejoices in the glory of a new cover; also in Christmas stories, and an editorial on the same theme to the amount of five pages and more. This editorial gets in everything from the family joy on the return of the prodigal to "trimming the church" and plum-pudding; but, alas! ends as follows: -

`Will not the father's speech, `Well, son, I trust that you have never forgotten to be a gentleman,' go through us like a knife, if we have any recollections of uproarious crowds of students in company with whom we boarded the cars with wild shouts and songs, and stamped and halloed until all the passengers were disgusted or enraged?"

And yet the Chronicle boasts that the Michiganders are not as other men are, rejoicing in the absence of college sports at Ann Arbor, and only lately proposing chess as a substitute for them.

"'THE status quo of Cornell is lower than it has been at any preceding time.' - Review. The writer evidently thinks that the sine qua non, the multum in parvo, and the sine die still maintain their old standard, but we are unable to glean from the article whether the e pluribus unum and the et tu Brute of Cornell are on the rise or decline, although the reference to the `sub judice questions' may cover the ground." - Yale Courant.

THE Dartmouth is certainly one of the most enterprising of our exchanges. The pictures of the Faculty that it has contained from month to month have been excellent photographs of fine-looking men. The local department is especially well sustained, and in the last number a bright letter from Vassar enables one not to be severe on a four-column article entitled "Fossil Bird-Tracks."

THE Washington Jeffersonian, from Washington, Pa., is a new recruit (we will not say a raw recruit) to the enormous army of college papers. It needs a good deal of drilling, especially in technical matters; we notice several misprints. It is also given to rather broad statements; as, for instance, that the Canterbury Tales are a liberal translation of the Decameron, and that the "scheme" of Paradise Lost is derived from the "Divina Commedia." The following phrases are remarkable for elegance of expression: "Under the loving surveillance of his blissful guide": "Along the endless corridors of time"; "He (the setting sun) casts his loveliest and softest glances yet once more upon the tops of mountains, or into the mirror of the ocean, to make his departure more heavily, and to awaken more lively desire for his return."

THE University Beacon declares that one of the "prevailing vices" of college English (which means English in college papers) is "a lack of statuesqueness in ideas!" If we had seen that expression in a paper hailing from the Cape of Good Hope or the Feejee Islands, we could still have sworn that it was written within a mile of the gilded dome of the State House.

THE University Reporter, from somewhere in Iowa, publishes the third part of a poem (to be continued), entitled "The Tide of Time." It is apparently a judicious combination of "Paradise Lost" and "Queen Mab"! but after deep consideration we are still unable to decide whether it is a parody, or intended to be serious. "I'll nip the canker in the bud" is a pleasing, though at first sight a startling figure; nipping cankerworms must be an agreeable entertainment on a spring morning in the country. The gentleman who makes this remark in the poem, is - Well, his name is not usually mentioned in polite society; and be makes it apropos of

"Millions yet to come,

More numerous than the atoms that compose

The Universe. A mighty host, perhaps

Destined to wage a vengeful war, and with

Destruction compliment defeat."

We should really like to know how to "compliment defeat with destruction!"

IT would cause us equal surprise and pleasure to see a number of the Princetonian in which there was not an elaborate defence of the President and Faculty of Princeton College, in answer to a charge made by some unfortunate New York daily. The last number contains the usual two columns of scorn, directed, this time against the Tribune.

AMID the confused hubbub of cheers, music and college slogans, the Fourth Annual Intercollegiate Contest passed into history. - Cornell Era.

The Nation is the historian.