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. \ ° » : : :
a8 = THE COLLEGE NRWS ot
: aay ics @ i)
THESE WEAKER WOMEN vived by a glass of wine, I “wept. S. in-| & told him of sacrifices of others. Rushed
The College News - “Once * more . into the breach, dear} formed me in a low.voice that such mid-|to garden & had a mental struggle. — .
(Founded in 1914) \ friends,” or shall we, picket the White|night assassinations are not uncommony (4) Converted: *

, Published weekly during the college year in\the
“interest of Bryn Mawr College at the Maguire
Building, Wayne, Pa., and Bryn Mawr College.

Managing TBditor > JHAN Logs, 26



x

eeeeeeee



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EDITORS
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M. SmMiTHy '27
"26 2

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“DIED FOR PURITY”

The corpse was: found ugder Rocke-
feller Tower just after sunset. Beside it
lay a little pink gingham dress such as
a bride might buy at Macy’s for the
spring house-cleaning. season. Piled on
the dress were a pair of forceps, a scalpel,
a cake of Physicians and Surgeons soap,
and a crimson bandanna. In the hand of
the corpse there was a piece of writing
paper, stamped with the college crest and
bearing these words: :

“I did it for purity—tomorrow is the
dogfish.” . —

ATHLETICALLY SPEAKING

It is popularly conceded by those who
set the fashion for-theories that “imita-
tion is the greatest form of flattery.”
Hence, we are again guilty of flattering
the great American redskin—nor has
James Fenimore Cooper anything to do
with our new attitude of deference. This
time we have turned from our considera-
tion of the proverbial warpath to a more
careful examination’ of its sister ally, the
field of sport.

And here we find ourselves indebted
to the vanishing Americans; for it is,
thanks to their invention, that the present
game of Lacrosse exists. When the
French missionaries plunged into the early
wilderness, they. found that their native
warriors got in trim for scalping parties
by practising a strange ball game in which
the ball was thrown from leather pockets
attached to bent sticks. Having presented
the Indians with religion and rum, they
took unto themselves this new sport,
which, by reason of the implements, they
called Lacrosse. And so it is that this,
our most modern of modern games, is,
like most of our modern dancing, merely
a hark-back to the primitive.

FUTURE DE STAELS

Gird at it though we may, there is
something in the Group Mind Idea—
something which Mr. Canby acknowl-
edged when. he advocated the formation
of a literary circle in New York. He was
not thinking of a society like the Eliza-
bethan Assembly of Antiquarians, nor
even of the Spottiswoode, Bannatyne and





““Roxburghe Clubs; -he-simply meant, a set

of writers, critics and persons interested
in literature, who should know each other,
and, by excluding. as many second-rate
minds as possible, maintain a high stand-
ard of jousnalism and literature. For, as
things work out in this world, sheer ex-
cellence is not appreciated when it stands
alone; there must be a recognized meas-
ure of value to which it can be compared,
and the endorsement of those with pres-
tige is nearly always necessary to launch
even a masterpiece. ;
A group holding this power of life and
death has only existed once in America,
in Boston: at the time of Emerson, and
‘Mr. Canby pleads for its renewal in New
York. It is a sign of a normal social

order when, over and above the Smart
Set, there stands the elect coterie, the
patti arbiters of culture, to 2 rig bed here



a ee in-

‘|dezvous tomorrow night.



House again if. behalf of the National
Women’s Party? For the warpath has
been resumed. In revolt against, man’ in
general and man-made legislation in particu-
lax, irate womankind has taken the bull by
the\ horns ‘and demanded equality—in. in-
dustty at least. If mere man is allowed to

$ shovel’ coal, drive taxis or operate subways,

why shauld these privileges be denied to
the alleged fairer sex?

In this héctic economical struggle, where-
in it is vaguely believed that only the fittest
survive, what kight have a few prejudiced
elders to lay down hard and fast“rules for
feminine strugglérs? Let the’ .mid-Vic-
torians shudder ; let the die-hard conserva-
tives gloomily predict a future generation
of ditch digging women, As usual, they have
missed the point. Ball\gowns are not in
danger of being laid aside\for overalls—-but
independence is a priceless ‘asset.

.

BOOK REVIEW.
- The Diary of a Young Lady of Fashion
in the Year 1764-1765, by Cleone Knox,
Edited by her kinsman, Alexander. Black-
er Kerr. Tornton, Butterworth, London,
1925. x

Cleone Knox was gay and casual, and
possessed of an entertaining fund of good
sense. -A pair of lovely Irish eyes, in ad)
dition to these qualities, helped her to en-
joy a season in London, and the Grand
Tour in the winter of ’65.



Cleone, in red velvet and white lace
caught up with blue love knots, was en-
tertained at fine parties in London, and
visited clateaux in France, and in the
carnival season at Venice she went down
the Grand Canal in a gondola trimmed
with jessamine, hearing barcarolles and
serenades.

‘These are notes for a few April eve-
nings in the young lady’s usual vein: —
“April 23rd.

To a party given by some of the noble
ladies here. There being only females,
and no gentlemen present, we drank our
chocolate on the roof of the Palazzo, fore-
told the future with cards and exchanged
gossip.

The Benes M cannot, it appears,
retain her lovers because... The ladies
threw off all discretion and talked of their
own love. affairs, most freely. I heard
things I could scarcely write down. This
is indeed a gallant and loose city. I be-
lieve that poor Nanette and self are wi
only virtuous females in Venice.

“April 25th. c

I met the gallant in the crimson cloak
in the Piazzetta. He begged me most
ardently to grant him the favor of a ren-
He swears on
his Honor that it is to be nothing but
a turn up the Grand Canal—which he
declares is excessively beautiful by moon-
light. He promises that it shall be ar-
ranged with utter secrecy, and that Papa
shall know nothing of it. 4
“April 27th.

Experienced last night a: most Alarm-
ing and Terrible Adventure. My Imagi-
nation inflamed, and my Prudence over-
come by the beauty and balminess of the
night, and I decided to yield to the re-
quest of my Beau. Attired myself in mask
and cloak. Stefano, whom I had bribed,
unlocked the door for me at midnight.
Met my gallant as arranged in the little
court behind this place. He embraced me



to his gondola when the air was rent by
a fearful scream: There was a curse, a
splash and a gurgle, and a gondola sped
by us in the narrow canal—in it a young
female struggling for dear life. Perceivea
by the moonlight, to my Indescribable
Horror, the corpse of a young man float-
ing face downwards in the canal! I
uttered a Shriek, we heard the sound of
running footsteps, whereupon my Friend
throwing his cloak over me whispered:



dae hasten og — ran like a

tenderly, and was preparing to lead me.

here. Thankful to reach my bed and lay
awake all night i tremble. Cannot for-
get that poor murdered body. No more
terrible punishment could I have had for
my Indiscretifn. I vow I will never more
embark on these romantic escapades. Suf-
fered from/the Vapours all day.”










She refovered from: the vapors, how-
ever, and even from the shock of her
“prankisit’ brother’s elopement with a nun
out of a convént, Finally, she eloped her-
self with the handsome black-eyed David
Ancaster, who had followed her to Venice
all the way from County Down. There
they returned and lived very happily to
rear twelve children, according to Miss
Knox’s kinsman, Mr. Kerr.

This kinsman we must suspect of being
a sponsor in baptism, indeed, the intel-
lectual parent of the lady. If so, he is to
be congratulated. At all events, it--is a
matter of no importance. The. fact of
Cleone’s actual existence has nothing to
do with the brightness and style’ of her
journal,

(Can be obtained at the Book Shop.)



PROPHET’S PEACE MESSAGE ©



‘CONTINUED FROM PAGE 1

class and race hatred we can tell what
\He would have said about a world: war.
Now again, it is the time to hold the
vision and provide the ‘organizations We
must maintain world peace for thirty
years; Then perhaps we shall be secure
for. all\time. If we cannot: do this, the
world will be long recuperating, and may
never have the heart to go on again.”



an
THERE'S MY EDUCATION



New Republic, February
10, 1926)

This morning, quite by chance, I happened
on my education. 1 was looking for some-
thing entirely different—a_bundle_of fools-
cap, I think it was, {that priceless posses-
sion.) —when I opened \a drawer and there
was my education. It was neatly stowed
away, course by course, With the. label on
each. “This is Mathilda's doing,” I thought
to myself, and smiled. Mathilda has a re-
spect for education, never having had any.
She believes in it. For that matter, I
thought, as I looked at those neat bundles
of notes, so do I. It’s a fine thing to have
an education. I took mine out a d began
to look it over. fs

The first package was labelled aac
English II. It began with Shakespeare. I
surveyed the list of plays by periods Wit ith
some satisfaction. I had known that once,
and all the sources too. They were more
pat in my head than the Lord’s prayer th
‘morning I went in to the examination.

(Reprinted f rom

Turning a lump. of pages, I arrived at the I

Romantic Movement. “Classicisfa and Ro-
manticism,” I read, “are two ways of taking
life. One makes for certain sorts of things
and other for other—(a)—(b)—.” I had
once known which sorts of things Roman-
ticism made for, and vice-versa. I still know
that everything Classic is bad, and every-
thing Romantic is good. The professor was
at such pains to make that’ clear that the
impression still remains. I forget now why
it is, but that is not important. The value
of an education is that it gives you. sound
opinions like this to stand on—maxims, one
might call them, which La Rochefoucauld
says are crutches for the weak minded. But
it is an art to walk with crutches; only a
trained mind can do it, It is a distinction
‘of the educated, like walking with a cane.
Unfortunately Genera} English II stopped
with the Victorians, so beyond Stevenson
I have never walked very secure. I have
to lean there merely on what I like,

I fell next to turning over the pages
marked Major History. There I found re-
carded the conversion of St. Augustine.

- (1) Became infl. by Ambros¢—figurative
interp. old Test.

() Inf, also by books of Platonic Pil-|



ed | osophy.



History, thought I to myself, is the most
dramatic and human study in-the curriculum, -
and I turned a page and came upon a list
of twenty dates. In the margin was a
modern date, embellished with exclamation
points. “Emily was pretty, but really too
plump at a prom,” I mused, as I turned from
the Results of the Investiture. Struggle to
the Causes of the Hundred Years’ War.

I glanced at Minor Biology. This is not
a part of my education I should care to re-
call, even if I could: It is enough that |
have had it. The facts of mitotic and ami-
deposit of opinions which suffice for my
biologic needs, “After all,” I can say to
Mathilda, and clinch any argument from
milk to ants’ eggs, “T have studied wats
and you haven't.”

Biology belongs to the amoebic sciences.
There are, as I observed in college, but two
proper starting points for a course in any
liberal subjict; Aristotle and the amoeba.
I should have no confidence in a course
which did not begin with one of them, for it
is certain that there is no act, fact or fancy
in the world which hasn’t been defined by
the one or exhibited in its rudiments by the
other. Aristotle and the amoeba are the
twin legs of learning. Without them it
could neither stand nor advance.

That is why philosophy and psychology
are. such.sound studies... They. refer con-
stantly to both. I picked. up the notes to
these two courses with affection. [ rémem-
bered with pleasure the conundrum about the
field mice—if the mother mouse eats wheat,
and then produces young, ‘do the young
mice get their souls from the wheat, or—
I forget how it goes. But at any rate there’s
the one about somebody’s ass and the hay-

stacks. Of one thing I am quite sure, and

that is that there is no freedom of the will,
for I once wrote a thesis to prove this and
got ninety-eight on it. I am also water-
totic division, of the difference between an
eighteen-hour chick and a sixty-three-hour
chick, have ebbed from my mind, and I do .
not regret them. They have left a mineral
tight on psychology. I can pish and pshaw
with anybody at poor Mr. McDougall, and
misguided Professor Bergson; I know that
there is no such thing as separate instincts ;
that the Elberfeld horses most certainly
did not exhibit reason; that what is wrongly
called consciousness is nothing but the sum
of ‘all existing stimuli at any given moment.
Have I not read Watson from cover to
cover ?*@Have I admitted that I didn’t find
a word I could understand in the whole
book? When I am seventy I shall say as
complacently as I now do—“that’s all very
well, but I’m a Behaviorist, you know.” _.
Where will Watson be then, poor: thing?
It doesn’t matter. Like Max Beerbohm, I
shall fail to keep pace with other leaders
of thought as they pass into oblivion. But
shall never be unfaithful to my education.
I open another bundle of notes. “Preuves
de la these,” I read, with a pretty little
diagram and a list of arguments to prove
that\ the manuscript 0 of the Chanson de
Roland is the most authentic of all, O rare
anne The Chanson de Roland will
never be to me the mere poem it is to other
people. [ shall think gf the manuscript 0,
and the \seven violations of the rules of
assonance, \ and the _preuves de la these that
I once could write in French, An aura of
mediaeval universities is all around me.

_ The list of\ required reading in economics
begins with a\hearty assignment out of Ar-
istotle, so that’s all right. As I turned
through these yoluminous ‘notes I sighed.
There are few people who do not sigh over
economics, In it is odd that the closer -
a subject lies to the common mattters of life,
the more abstract the study of it be-
come. When I consider that the price of
my poached egg at breakfast it determined
at the point where the declining line of mar-
ginal utility cuts the rising line of costs of
production, it takes my appetite away. That
once I could draw the diagram, or even -










©) A Kiian frend come to talk to bim