Haverford College - Record Yearbook (Haverford, PA)

Page 31 text:

. . . The only really strict laws were those laid down by the stu- dents to professors in the Italian universities, and enforced by the threat of boycott. At Bologna the professors were compelled under oath to obey the Rector elected by the students, forbidden to leave town for even a day without per- mission, fined if thev be ian or ended their lectures a minute late, fined if they failed to attract an audience of at least five students for an ordinary lecture, and in general subjected to a very rigorous but possibly salutary discipline. Herbert J. MuUer. The Uses of the Past Page 27

Page 30 text:

I got the idea in my head — and I could not get it out — that college was just one more dopey, inane place in the world dedicated to piling up treasure on earth and everything. What ' s the difference whether the treasure is money, or property, or even C! ture. or even just plain knowledge? It all seemed like e.vactly the same thing to me, if you take off the wrap- ping — and it still does! Sometimes I think that knowledge — when it ' s knowledge for knowledge ' s sake, anyway — is the worst of all. The least excusable, certainly ... I don ' t think it would have all got me quite so down if just once in a while — just once in a while — there was at least some polite per- functory implication that knowl- edge should lead to wisdom, and that if it doesn ' t it ' s just a disgust- ing waste of time! But there never is! You never even hear any hints dropped on a campus that wisdom is supposed to be the goal of knowledge. You hardly ever even hear the word ' wisdom mentioned. J. D. Salinger, Franny And looey Page 26

Page 32 text:

COLLECTION — That which is collected; as: a gathering or as- semblage of objects or of persons; an accumulation of specimens of a certain class, as for ornamental or educational purposes. Webster ' s New International Dictionary (2nd Ed.) The devil of drowsiness is at his most potent, we find, about 10:30 P.M. At this period the human carcass seems to consider that it has finished its cycle, which began with so much courage nearly sixteen hours before. It be- gins to slack and the mind halts on a dead centre every now and then, refusing to complete the revolution. Now there are those who hold that this is certainly the seemlv and ap pointed time to go to bed and thev do so as a matter of routine. These are. commonly, the happier creatures, for they take the tide of sleep at the flood and are borne calmly and with gracious gentleness out to great waters of nothingness . . . . . . but they miss the admirable adventures of those more embit- tered wrestlers who will not give in without a struggle. These latter suffer severe pangs between 10:30 and 11:15 while they grapple with their fading faculties and seek to reestablish the will on its tottering throne. This requires courage stout, valour unbending. Once you yield, be it ever so little, to the tempter, you are lost. And here our poor barren clav plays us false, undermining the intellect with many a trick and wile. I will sit down for a season in that com- fortable chair. the creature says to himself, and read this sprightly novel. That will ease my mind and put me in humour for a continu- ance of livelv thinking. And the end of that man is a steadv nasal buzz from the bottom of the chair where he has collapsed, an un- sightlv object and a disgrace to humanity. Only by stiff persever- ance and rigid avoidance of easy chairs may the critical hour between 10:30 and 11:30 be safely passed. Tobacco, a self-brewed pot of tea. and a browsing along book- shelves ( remain standing and do not sit down with your book) are helps in this time of struggle . . . . . . those who survive this dras- tic weeding out which Night imposes upon her wooers — so as to cull and -choose only the truly meritorious lovers — experience supreme delights which are un- known to their snoring fellows. lien the struggle with somno- lence has been fought out and won, when the world is all-covering darkness and close-pressing silence, when the tobacco suddenly takes on fresh vigour and fra- grance and the books lie strewn about the table, when it seems as though all the rubbish and floating matter of the day ' s thoughts have poured away and only the bright, clear, and swift current of the mind itself remains, flowing hap- pilv and without impediment. Christopher Morley, Pipefuls Page 28