The Harvard Monthly.

One insensibly recalls the rather characteristic remark of Dr. Everett, made publicly some time ago, that young men to-day are not as thorough in their work or as determined in their purposes as young men were in his day, when a careful reading of the leading article of the Monthly betrays a repetition of the sentiment. Dr. Everett, in English not particularly elegant, pictures student life at Harvard thirty years ago, and manages to intersperse a fair degree of contempt for certain methods which at present obtain among the students. But a class of students whose reading was Dickens, although two or more years younger than the corresponding class of to-day, were of course, "above the reproach of being magnificent animals," for those were halcyon days, when "boys began preparation for college younger," when "schools were not yet nurseries," and when students "liked books that made them think." (Dickens and De Quincey). Nestor's boast of the prowess of his youthful days is paralleled at last. Yes, the youth then were more mature and (individually) they wore Indian blankets, made by the Bay State Mills, in chapel; and there then prevailed "a high, keen, intellectual energy among us all." But why continue such quotations? No true Harvard student can fail to catch the latent sneer so carelessly concealed.

Mr. Berenson, in "Between Autumn and Winter," elaborates again his peculiar methods of poetical composition so strange to us all.

Mr. Baker, however, in a strong, well written sketch of George Farquhar, touches a different key. Straightforward expression and clear English characterize this paper well worth a thoughtful reading. Mr. Sanford in some very striking verse, pictures "The Lilberhom." The second and third stanzas are firm and very noticeable for their rythm and delicacy of touch. If Mr. Berenson would confine himself to prose, and always write as admirably as in "The Third Category," his work would be appreciated, we assure him. There is here a touch of introspection which is very charming, and the closing bit of brutality is unquestionably powerfully portrayed. Mr. Palmer's "Endymion" is smooth and pleasing. The second and third lines might be improved. An editorial completes the number.