In accordance with the precedent set last year,

the next number of THE MAGAZINE will appear sometime during the month of August. It will contain the usual review of the year's progress of the College; reports of the festivities and ceremonies of Commencement Week; and such other matter as will serve to keep, the alumni in touch not only with the general condition of Dartmouth, but with such specific developments as may arise between spring-time and autumn.

The roads about Hanover have ceased to be quagmires. The campus slush has given way to verdant sod that still withstands the wear and tear of errant feet. The erstwhile gaunt, spinster elms that looked shrewishly down upon the college buildings are robed in matronly green. As each day wanes and dusk descends, the mellow air is flooded with the sound of student voices singing. The notes rise and hover among the hills; waver through the wooded glades and seem to echo faintly from the stars. Thus the romantic days begin as the academic year ends. Commencement is upon us.

When a man has been a year away from Dartmouth, he is prone to think of it always in terms of May and June. His return at Commencement fixes the thought. Perhaps it is just as well; for certain it is that if the final exercises took place in March, they would be far less enthusiastically attended. This year the returning host promises to be larger than ever: '62, '72, '87, '97, 1902, 1907, 1909 will re-une according to their age and station; some in the quiet dignity of gray hair and sober garments, some in the weird panoply suggestive of a semi-barbaric imagination. And mightily will they be welcome,— old. and young alike. The old ones will feel young again for the nonce; and in due course the young ones will be numbered among the old ones, half amused, half shocked by the capers of 1952, worthy class, at the present moment still reposing amid untrailed clouds of glory. Perhaps by that time, however, Commencement reunions and jollifications will have been relegated to the limbo of ancient, useless things with affectionate sentiment for Alma Mater burned out in the fever of purely intellectual striving. The thought is too dismal for contemplation just now; let it be forgotten in the forthcoming surge of good fellowship.

The voluntary dissolution of the Turtle Society, a junior organization, is evidence of the basic soundness of the undergraduate life at Dartmouth. There was nothing very bad about Turtle. the mere names of a considerable part of its membership during the past few years are sufficient guarantee of that. But, at the same time, there was nothing very good about it. It had no distinct reason for existence save the opportunity for displaying an attractive pin and for holding occasional social gatherings, not always characterized by decorum. Founded and perpetuated without a single affirmative ideal, it yet sought its members among the leaders of junior class affairs; men already sufficiently burdened with more important duties and crowned with more worthy honors. Perhaps, however, the worst that can be said of it is that it tended to break up the unity of sophomore and junior classes and to interfere with the natural growth of friendship based upon normal community of tastes and ideas. It artificially set apart and distinguished a small clique before that clique really knew itself. All of these statements are derived from the frank expressions of opinion on the part of recent alumni members of Turtle. Even from the short perspective of senior year, they felt the inherent uselessness of the society. As alumni they considered it something of a menace to the wellbeing of the College. No doubt it is alumni influence that has actuated the present active delegation in snuffing out the society. No less credit, however, belongs to this delegation. They have shown themselves properly sensitive to alumni judgment and unselfishly zealous for the good of Dartmouth.

With the elimination of a purely social organization, it is interesting to note the growth of the organizations which have a distinct purpose. Praise has already been bestowed upon the Outing Club. But in, their way, the Round Robin, with its distinctive literary intention, and the Clef Club, constituted for and by the musically inclined, are doing an equally valuable work. If social lines are being drawn, the tendency is to draw them more with reference to actual tastes and abilities than to fancied elements of congeniality. Should the plans of the faculty committee on NonAthletic Organizations mature properly, the funds derived from various undergraduate performances will in time be available to help in the same direction. The large possibilities of these various movements are just beginning to be apparent; they can not, for some time to come, be fully gauged. One thing seems fairly evident, however: undergraduate leadership is being more and more absorbed in constructive undertakings and is losing interest in those which are non-constructive. It is in this fact that the danger to the fraternities, as at present constituted, lies. Most of the leadership is in them; but it is not in any large sense of them. Just how the situation will work out, would be dangerous to prophesy.

The average alumnus, no doubt, passes with small consideration the reports of the annual school conferences held at Dartmouth. Their bearing seems rather professional and restricted; their influence limited to a few weary teachers, glad of a day's respite, and of the opportunity for a breath of air and a bit of social, if shoppy, palaver. There is, however, another aspect of the case. In holding each year an educational conference, Dartmouth is performing one of its constantly increasing functions for the direct benefit of the State of New Hampshire. The teachers who visited Hanover for the recently held meeting had opportunity not only to come into closer touch with their fellow workers in the state, but to encounter, as well, prominent representatives of the profession in schools and colleges of Massachusetts, Connecticut, and New York. This year the visitors have been specialists in English; last year they were historians. Next year they will be scientists or instructors in ancient or modern languages, and so on until the College and the secondary school' have had opportunity to thresh out the problems that they jointly face. By the time one circle is completed, enough new problems will have arisen to start another. It is a healthful process for the higher institution and for the lower ones as well.

The other beneficial functions of Dartmouth are less fully organized: they take the form of expert personal service. Before long THE MAGAZINE hopes to treat this matter in detail. Atpresent all the facts are not available. It is sufficient, for the present, to observe that the State is more and more calling upon members of the College faculty for service upon regular commissions and for occasional special investigations. Credit for this happy growth of a community of interest between the citizens and their chief institution of learning is in large measure due to Governor Bass who saw the opportunity and who has utilized it as none of his predecessors had thought of doing. Yet no less credit is due the College, which can provide men ready to serve honestly and quietly, yet with zealous efficiency.