THE GILDED AGE.

There can be no doubt that we live in what the late Samuel Clemens has named "The Gilded Age." The pilgrim to Boston beholds from afar the shining dome of the State House. The lobbies of our caravanseries out-shine Solomon in all his splendor. But at times there comes a feeling that perhaps the thing is a trifle overdone. The undergraduate departed last summer, thanking Providence and the benefactors of the University that at last the Charles was spanned by a suitable structure. He returns to find it giving the appearance of a martial host about to sweep down up on Cambridge. Our lighter contemporary has already suggested that the lamps were anything but neutral, but with their present aureate decorations the worst foars of a Teutonic invasion seem realized. Would it savor too much of a carping spirit to suggest that the present color scheme might be toned down with great advantage?