Probably, despite the widespread

publicity which has already been given to the new method of choosing alumni trustees, there are members of the alumni body who will feel a vague surprise at not receiving the customary invitation to cast a wholly perfunctory vote for a single name presented by the Alumni Council this spring. The reason is, of course, that the system has been amended by alumni vote, so that from now onward the alumni trustees will be canvassed, nominated and elected by the Council acting alone, without subsequent ratification by the alumni as a whole. It is still possible, to be sure, in case the selections by the Council do not give satisfaction, to initiate other candidacies on petition; but in the ordinary case, where the selection made is such as to commend itself to the entire array of graduates, the whole task now rests with the Council.

This decision was reached last June after a most painstaking investigation on the part of a committee, headed by Judge Hough and including half a dozen or so of the best qualified alumni who could be found. Their conclusion was that the alumni body was now so large and so scattered as to preclude townmeeting methods, such as once served well enough; and they therefore recommended a candid recognition of the need for representative government by ceasing to require a meaningless ballot supporting an already established choice, merely suggesting that as the Alumni Council thereby would acquire additional responsibilities it would be well to see carefully to its recruiting, that it might remain always -what it is now—a body worthy of implicit trust. The alumni powers must, apparently, be delegated; therefore see to it that the delegates are uniformly capable and trust them to act for the whole body.

That the results will be better in the long run than they could be under any other system we believe to be a. thoroughly tenable proposition. At all ev-ents it was the recommendation of the special committee, and it was duly adopted at the session of the alumni held at Hanover in Commencement Week, 1924. Hopefully this settles in the most satisfactory way possible the long debate as to the best method of recruiting the board of trustees, so far as concerns the alumni members. The object is to obtain the best possible board —and the MAGAZINE believes that the best means to that end has been found.

The approach of the sesquicentennial of the founding of the society known as Phi Beta Kappa makes all the more appropriate a growing question of the bases on which this venerable scholastic society is recruited. The propensity of undergraduates for some years past has been to query the adequacy of any method which depends exclusively upon ranks in scholastic standing, on the theory that while this might assemble under a definite banner the men who stood highest as a matter of clerical evidence on the faculty books, it did not guarantee anything else and was a most unreliable index of the aspirant's general qualities as a man and a brother. This questioning has become especially acute at Hanover during the past two years, and lately has figured in the controversial columns of the Daily Dartmouth.

We propose here to set forth a few of our own ideas on this matter, not so much with the idea of urging their acceptance as validities, but rather in the hope that interest may be stimulated, particularly among Phi Beta Kappa men, to the point of inspiring others to air their views in letters to this MAGAZINE. It seems one of the point on which a symposium is desirable.

It is well, no doubt, first to examine the fundamentals on which the questions now raised are based. There appears, from the Daily Dartmouth's columns, to be a feeling that while the learned society whose emblem is the little gold key is annually voted by the seniors to be of honorable estate, transcending that of eminence in athletics, the subsequent action of the class tends to establish the belief that in their hearts the members still prefer the eminent athlete. That is entirely human—especially around the age of 22. The Dartmouth's writer then proceeds as follows:

"The reason for this seeming inconsistency is fairly obvious. Every rightthinking undergraduate considers intelligence, culture, and scholarship to' be the primary concerns of a college education. And therefore he votes for the key as an abstract principle. But every man who has even casually considered the matter recognizes that grades, under the present educational system, are by no means a perfect indication of the intelligence, originality, or real ability of man. The possession of a Phi Beta Kappa key is not a proof of the true caliber of a student. In fact, it rather tends to put the burden of proof on the man, to show that he is not a mere pedant and "greasy grind. Consequently, undergraduates quite rightly reserve their judgment as to the real ability of the individual. Indeed, their distrust of marks is likely to carry them to the opposite extreme of regarding them as almost a handicap.

The ideal remedy for this condition would, of course, be a revision of the system of examinations and marking, putting emphasis on originality and understanding rather than on memory of facts alone. This change is coming. We see signs of it in the increase in original papers required in the higher English coursies, in the gradually improving character of the questions asked in the social sciences. But all educational change is slow. The mills of the gods may grind exceeding small, but they grind very, very slowly.

"A more immediate improvement is possible, however, by revising somewhat the requirements for admission to Phi Beta Kappa. As it now is conducted, election to the society is a reward for the acquisition of high grades. How they are gotten, what they represent, whether he who gets them is an educated man or a narrow pedant, is no concern of the statisticians in the registrar's office

The consequences of this method of election are rather harmful. It encourages some men to work for marks rather than knowledge, and to select courses in which they get those marks rather than courses which would broaden and educate them. And it rewards such an attitude."

That is to say, no one really likes a greasy grind, and too many greasy grinds are assumed to obtain the gold key merely by virtue of marks, while lacking those qualities which make for undergraduate respect. It is therefore urged that some method be devised for "going behind the returns" in order to import some additional evidence as to the candidate's real calibre, and to ascertain, if it be possible, whether his marks mean real knowledge, or represent mere marks for the acquisition of which the candidate may have a special, and possibly an exclusive, aptitude.

Our first feeling is one of relief that this reformatory task is for someone else. This is one of the cases in which destructive criticism is easy and constructive criticism difficult. We can all see the objection to the old methods of enlisting Phi Beta Kappa men, but not all will be ready with a plan to improve those methods.

However, the Dartmouth has a suggestion to offer and it merits thoughtful reading: Skeletonized, it proposes the cooperation of a novel committee on admissions, to be elected from among the faculty by the faculty and the current undergraduate members of Phi Beta Kappa. This committee, suggested to be of three members, shall canvass the junior class in the spring and from it choose a nucleus for the coming delegation. These men should have maintained an average of 3.2 or better for five semesters—but would also be required to command the endorsement from the department in which they specialize, to the effect that they are regarded as men of exceptional promise; and in addition they must have engaged in some activity outside the classroom of an intellectual character"—i.e., should have been on a debating team, or on some of the college publications, or active in some of the scientific or literary organizations. This nucleus, once started in this way, would select three members from its own body to assist the faculty committee in judging future additions during the progress of the subsequent senior year. For the later group it is hinted that the bars might be let down a little—say to a rank of 2.8—to be compensated by demonstrated excellence in activities of an intellectual sort outside the classroom. The reader is reminded that if this reduction of the eligible rank looks like a questionable concession, it is at least unlikely to bring into the eligible lists more than 15 per cent of the average senior class—and certainly not more than 20 per cent.

To all those requirements a further addition is urged in the form of a thesis, or written article, representing original work and independent thinking by the candidate, on the subject in which he is majoring.

This is not a matter to be judged hastily at first sight. We are informed that under the present system the maximum proportion of a senior class eligible to Phi Beta Kappa in 15 leading Eastern colleges is 16.2 per cent, and that the average proportion actually taken in is a little over 12.4 per cent. Dartmouth has been admitting only about 8 per cent -which is fewer than in any other eastern college with the exception of Harvard. If we comprehend the students' suggestion, it would somewhat increase the proportion admitted to the Dartmouth chapter, and would be assumed at the same time to improve the general tone by requiring extra evidence as to the candidate's mentality—in addition to mere marks, which by themselves might mean no more than a superior memory for the purposes of an examination.

It should not be understood that this general line of reasoning is exclusively an undergraduate matter. It has engrossed the attention of the faculty as well—one might say the sympathetic attention. It has also prompted a very similar quest in other colleges. Reverence for mere marks has waned nearly everywhere; and everywhere one finds cropping out the same demand that this blue ribbon of the academic world be bestowed on men whose attainments are attested by something more convincing than a page of figures. With that, so long as it is kept within reasonable lines, we have but little disposition to quarrel; but we would most emphatically insist that it be so confined as to retain the essential feature of this ancient society-which is high scholastic standing, properly understood.

It may be that marks alone are insufficient as a test of capacity. They are nevertheless a test which one may not altogether ignore. The suggestion is that they be supplemented, rather than discarded. The idea further appears to contemplate exalting the rank attained in a major subject, against possible detractions due to lower rank in subjects other than the major. That is to say, if a man has a splendid rating in his major courses, but has fallen below in others sufficiently to bring his average rank a little below the Phi Beta standard, he might profitably be considered eligible still. On this opinions will vary. There will be agreement, we assume, chiefly in that whatever is done shall insure the possession of exceptional mental excellence in the candidate as the broad general qualification for a Phi Beta Kappa key.

Having done all of which, one may ask if, even then, the senior class, though declaring its appreciation of the key as superior to a team letter, will not as before "rank the athlete above the Phi Bete"—which is very human, we reiterate, when one is 22 years old.

One word more. We are quite serious in suggesting that alumni members of Phi Beta Kappa turn their thoughts upon this topic and embody their conclusions in letters to this MAGAZINE, so that a general discussion from every angle may be promoted. We have set forth, we hope without inaccuracy, the .idea which is gaining in strength among both students and teachers. If you gentle reader, concur, or if you differ, or if you have a still better plan, why not set it forth in black and white?

Does it seem to you that the present system is on the whole particularly evil? Are you impressed by the claim that marks alone lead to a great many mistakes—or only to a few? Is it your disposition to regard a thesis representing independent thought as a much greater insurance against greasy-grinderism than the present examination figures are? There is room for some caustic dissent, as usual.

It occurs to us as we close that very little has been said of our own belief— but on the whole it is just as well. Being by habit of mind rather conservative and inclined to walk gingerly around the newer monuments reared by undergraduate wisdom before joining in. the general cheers, we have a vague suspicion that the students have some ground for complaint—but that it is very much less extensive and much less menacing than they fear. After all, Phi Beta Kappa isn't a club. It is an honorary distinction which in itself connotes a studious habit beyond what the college world usually admires most, although it dutifully says that it knows it ought to admire it more. Our real doubt is that in the end a great difference would be made. One would pay lip-service to the wearer of the key as the wearer of something to be coveted—and would rather room with a halfback or quarter-miler whose scholastic standing is, say, around 2.4. But that isn't saying it wouldn't be a good thing for Phi Beta Kappa if it required a bit of outside evidence to prove its candidates to be as good as they look on the basis of the marks.

Last thought of all before leaving the subject: It may be that the gold keys and athletic D's are not so far apart as might appear. It was stated in the December number of this MAGAZINE that Coach Hawley might have put into the field last autumn what would to all intents and purposes be a Phi Beta Kappa eleven, without forfeiting any great amount of prowess. It is a happy augury, perhaps, that senior embarrassments will be reduced by the fact that, while honoring the athlete, one is automatically honoring the Phi Bete, the two terms applying with equal pertinence to the same group of individuals noted for both brawn and brain.

Meantime the student feels that he needs encouragement to honor with something more than a pretended love those of his mates who receive election to the Phi Beta Kappa. It may be important to do this. Beyond that, we doubt the seriousness of the problem— chiefly because, outside the undergraduate ranks, we have heard little criticism of the present holders of the little gold key. The general world seems fairly well suited already. What the undergraduate thinks is another matter—and it has its place.

For a searching commentary on the current perplexities of the colleges and their appropriate aims, the reader is commended to an article in a recent number of the American Mercury from the pen of Professor Richard Burton of the University of Minnesota, in which the attention of educators is forcibly drawn to the folly of mixing up too inextricably the "cultural" and the "practical." In the mind of that writer it appears that there has been too abject a surrender to the idea that all men and women are born intellectually equal and are all endowed by their Creator with an unalienable right to go to college—with a sort of subsidiary right to compel the college to teach them how to earn a livelihood, as well as to know how to get the most out of life once a livelihood is earned. Professor Burton candidly recogtnizes the virtues of technical training, but repudiates it as appropriate to the colleges. He has little use for the idea that in addition to offering courses in Latin, Greek, mathematics, English and other subjects admittedly "cultural," the college should teach horse-shoeing, husbandry, the embalming of corpses, the arts of the housewife and a host of other useful, but distinctly unscholarly, topics.

The college started as an instrument for ministering to a special intellectual need. It has turned of late into a sort of department store. The idea has taken root that, instead of being "a species of aristocratic mechanism designed for the special uses of a specially chosen and specially fitted few, the college is merely an upper-grade public school, which must cater to everybody regardless of intellectual environment, or mental need. The closing paragraph of Professor Burton's article is especially worth quoting as summing up the idea:

"What a blessing if our colleges had the backbone to say to inquiring youth, 'Almost anybody can go to college, but this doesn't mean that everybody should.' How wonderful if some college, by inheritance the beneficiary and guardian of the sound academic ideal, should speak right out and say that its aim was aristocratic: to prepare the saving remnant to rule the rest of us! But what courage it would take in what we call democratic America !"

Quite so. *lt would take courage. Something very like it was enunciated a year or two ago when President Hopkins flatly stated that there was such a thing as an aristocracy of brains, and that (to adopt Dr. Burton's version) while "almost anybody can go to college it does not mean that everybody should." One recalls how this very sensible idea, now elaborated with much skill and not a little good humor by the head of the English department at the University of Minnesota, started the quacking of over-democratized geese.

The fact is there are two functions to be served, and in trying to serve both at once under a common symbol the colleges have forfeited their ancient birthright for a new thing that looks like something even more complex in its components than a mess of pottage. One might better call it a hash. If we comprehend the author's plea, it is for a return to a clearer understanding of the difference between livelihood and living—a differentiation between "colleges" and technical schools. "Here is a college," he would say to the applicant. "If your environment, background or natural endowment (which we will test for you) fits you to seek a cultural preparation for living— in contrast with gaining a livelihood— here is -the place for you. If not, there are excellent shops where you may be taught anything under high heaven." In other words, go to college if college is what you need, or can use with advantage—but do not expect the college to make you a competent machinist, dentist, pharmacist, financier, or even a teacher. That is not properly the business of the college. The college should stimulate the appreciations for the manifold opportunities of life; but when it tries, in connection therewith and in four years' time, to give technical instruction in a score of practical businesses it ceases to be a college in any true or acceptable sense. The simile is mentioned, we observe, of the "chameleon placed on the Scotch plaid, which died trying to make good."

It seems rather odd to find a plea for the aristocracy of the cultural in Mr. Mencken's Mercury but after all, why not ? Originality is of the essence to such active minds as those behind that lively publication, and it is rather refreshing, even to the habitual malcontent, to find the shams of Demos resolutely charged by a determined rider with wellsharpened quill. Dr. Burton doesn't at all believe in "the equal dignity of all subjects of learning" and has no scruple against saying that most of the talk about "democratic equality" is twaddle—as if the making of pea-soup and the study of the fourth dimension were on a par." Certain studies—arts and letters, science m its broader aspects, philosophy—religion and so forth, actually draw upon human powers and possess a peculiar worth, which hundreds of purely mercantile subjects, sought to be annexed to the cultural curriculum, cannot honestly claim. "We are overdoing this business of democracy." It looks so, surely; but, as Professor Burton remarks, it takes courage to say so. When it comes to assailing the shams and parade in the livery of democracy, most men are arrant cowards. Of that charge we believe any one will absolve Dr. Burton who reads his article in the AmericanMercury.

Mooseiauke and Great Bear Cabin