Theta Nu Epsilon Society - Articles - Excerpt from ‘Four Years at Yale’

The Theta Nu Epsilon Society.

Excerpt from “Four Years at Yale,”

Lyman Hotchkiss Bagg, ’69, (New Haven, Conn.: Charles Chatfield & Co.), 1871, pgs. 87 - 105.

Lyman Hotchkiss Bagg was born in 1846 and attended Yale with the Class of 1869. (He died later in 1911.) While at college, he was a member of many of the college class societies, (including Delta Kappa), and also rose to being the editor of the Yale Literary Magazine in his senior year. The year after, he remained in New Haven, and wrote for the College Courant, and began writing a systematic treatment of Yale student life.

In 1871, he finished the landmark Four Years at Yale and seems to have taken a few years off from regular labor afterwards. In 1876, he began to write a regular column for the New York World, called the ‘College Chronicle’ which situation lasted until 1882.

In 1883, at the age of 37, Bagg toured Nova Scotia on a Penny Farthing, and later wrote up all his bicycling tours, which he minutely recorded, in a massive monograph called Ten Thousand Miles on a Bicycle, published in 1887 under the name ‘Karl Kron’. This mammoth work has been recently described by Glen Norcliffe, in The Ride to Modernity: the Bicycle in Canada, 1869-1900, as ‘possibly the most boring book ever published.’ A position which we can readily credit, given our familiarity with Bagg’s writings. Bagg had intended to complete a world tour, but had no money, was always ‘impecunious to the point of poverty’ and worked his passage at sea. He eventually abandoned his project, but did produce an 800 page tome of small type print, printed by subscription. The book is reckoned the first ever published bicycle tour, and the inspiration for the legendary French cyclist, Maurice Martin.

Nevertheless, there was never a greater expert on the topic of the Yale class societies than Bagg. Although his own personal experience of the class society system would have been slightly modified because of the recent war, he was in a position to see the societies functioning at very near their apex, and he also would have had full access to the full amount range of pre-war memories of how things ‘should be done’. Virtually everyone who ever wrote on the Yale system either quotes from Bagg, or quotes other authors who quote Bagg, so the logical thing to do it to get the story from the horse’s mouth.

Further, it seems that while Bagg’s fulsome tome is available in the library of any eastern university, it seems harder to find further away.

CHAPTER II - SOPHOMORE SOCIETIES.

Kappa Sigma Theta—Alpha Sigma Phi—Phi Theta Psi— Delta Beta Xi—The Yale Banger and Tomahawk—Chapters Posters and Song Books—Electioneering and Pledging—Giving out Elections—Initiation—Ordinary Exercises—Singing—Class Elections—The Sophomore Type.

Tradition has it that in the old days of Bully Clubs and town-and-gown disturbances, there were Sophomore societies whose members were distinguished by the peculiar shape of the clubs which they carried as badges. Sometimes the societies grew out of the debating associations of Freshman year, which each class established for itself. Like them, they seem to have been without name or formal organization. Apparently, the first regular Sophomore society originated in the class of ’41, and started into being in July, 1838, though a Freshman debating club perhaps served as the nucleus which drew its members together. It was called “Kappa Sigma Theta,”—though, as is the case of Sigma Eps, the “Kappa” was popularly unrecognized, and its badge was a small rectangular gold plate on which, above the society letters, the enwreathed, helmet-crested head of Minerva was engraved. The surface of the pin was glazed over, to prevent the engraving from becoming rubbed and worn. Besides its secret motto, it had several open ones : Tu nihil invita dices faciesve Minerva, Το του ανθρώπον μέτρον εστίν ή φρήν, and, Coronat scientia cultores suos,—of which the first was the commonest. The story goes that, as the Sophomore year of ’41 drew to its close, some members of the society proposed that, instead of disbanding the organization, it should be turned over to the incoming Sophs of ’42, in consideration of a supper given by them. The respectable portion of the society opposed the plan, and when the others took advantage of their absence and carried it through, they themselves destroyed the society plate and records. Sigma Theta, however, thenceforth existed as a regular Sophomore society, and though a rival sprung up a few years later, it continued to flourish until the Sophomore year of ’57, when ten or a dozen of the ablest men of that class, most or all of whom belonged to Sigma Theta or its rival, formed a sort of select club, which was apparently intended to last through the course and not to conflict with any of the existing societies. Its badge resembled the original one of Sigma Eps, and a room in Townsend’s Block, opposite the colleges, served as its place of meeting, but the club never figured in the Banner, and its name, if it had any, has not been preserved. Though no mention was ever made of it in any of the college prints, the existence of the club caused a great uproar throughout college, especially among the Sophomores, and Sophomore-society men. Its members were said to be traitors to the regular societies which they belonged to, and enemies of the whole system, and so were expelled from the former as a punishment for their crime. Few of them ever got into the Junior societies except by honorary elections, and though several of them become Senior-society men, more doubtless would have been elected except for the unfortunate club. But the expulsion of its best men from Sigma Theta, was that society’s death blow, for the internal dissensions which resulted therefrom were never harmonized, and thins went on from bad to worse until in 1858, when no more members could be induced to join it, the society definitely gave up the ghost.

Kappa Sigma Theta.

As already remarked, Sigma Theta was not left many years without a rival, for the same class and some of the same men who founded Delta Kap established in 1846 the “Alpha Sigma Phi,”—whose name in its abbreviated form of Sigma Phi is not to be confounded with a society so designated which exists in other colleges. Its badge in shape was an upright rectangle, almost a square, a trifle less than an inch in diameter; its device was an open book, in white, displaying several hieroglyphic characters, and crowned by a pen; below were the letters “A Σ Φ” in gold,—the pen and the framework being of the same material, and the ground a shield of black enamel. The wood-cut vignette of the society was identical with its badge, except that the framework surrounding the shield gave place in the former to a rectangular wreath of oak leaves. Neither badge nor vignette ever underwent the slightest change. Its open motto was, Causa latet, vis est notissima, and its secret one Αρρησία Σοφία Φιλία. Sigma Phi survived its rival Sigma Theta only a half-dozen years, and in 1864 came to a rather inglorious end. The trouble arose in this wise : About half of the Sigma Phi Sophomores of ’66 were pledged to the Junior society of Psi U, and half to its rival DKE. Each faction wished that a majority of the elections given to the Freshmen of ’67 should be received by those who were pledged to its own Junior society, and hence a fearful strife arose. The final result of it was that each faction in turn “expelled” the other from the society, gave out elections to its own Freshmen, and initiated them without taking them to the hall. This had in the meantime been closed, for the faculty, influenced by the notoriously disreputable character of the society, took advantage of the disorganized condition of things to order its summary abolishment. The Sophomores were forbidden to give out any elections, and the Freshmen to receive any, or to wear the Sigma Phi badge. Irregular elections were nevertheless given out in the manner stated, and the Freshmen evaded the other prohibition by wearing badges from which the “A Σ Φ” had been erased, or displaying the unmutilated badge only in places where it could be clone “in safety.” This state of things could not long continue. The elections had been given out in the middle of the summer term, and, with the opening of the new college year, the Psi U pledged men of ’67, who had received elections to Sigma Phi, set about the establishment of a new Sophomore society. The consent of the faculty was at length obtained on the conditions that the society should not bear the name, or adopt the badge, or occupy the hall, or in any way become the successor, of the late Sigma Phi; that it should give attention to literary exercises, and should elect some member of the faculty an honorary member. In obedience to these conditions was organized, in October, 1864, “Phi Theta Psi,”—called, of course, Theta Psi, simply,—with a badge shaped like that of Sigma Phi, but having as a device, upon a black enamel ground-work, a golden raven perched upon a white closed book, below the letters “Φ Θ Ψ.” A month or two after Theta Psi’s appearance, under the same conditions, the DKE faction were allowed to establish “Delta Beta Xi,”—called Beta Xi, or rarely DBX,—with a badge and wood-cut vignette identical with those of Sigma Phi, except that the letters “Δ Β Ξ” superseded the original “A Σ Φ.” Even now, Beta Xi men often wear pins bearing the old letters. Sigma Phi was the only society ever abolished by the faculty, and its two successors are probably the last which they will ever consent to have established. Prof. Thacher of ’35 was the honorary member chosen by Theta Psi from among the faculty; Prof. Northrop of ’57, the one chosen by Beta Xi.

A feature of the two earlier Sophomore societies, of which no trace remains in those now existing, was the publication of annual “feuilletons,” or printed attacks upon one another and the college world in general. Sigma Theta’s “paper” was called the Yale Banger, apparently to burlesque the Yale Banner, and displayed a heavy club-cane, or “banger” in its heading,—this species of walking stick being esteemed by tradition the Sophomore’s peculiar property. At the head of the Banger’s first page was displayed the vignette of Sigma Theta, with its list of members; then followed lists of the other societies, accompanied in each case by burlesque badges and mottoes, Sigma Phi of course getting its full share of notice. The remaining three pages comprised personal and political gossip, poetry, advertisements, and notices, of a more or less scurrilous character. The paper was issued in the fall term of the six years 1845-50, and the spring term of ’52. Its rival, the Tomahawk of Sigma Phi, followed it by a month or two, but, appearing first in 1847, issued only five numbers in all. This paper displayed but two cuts : the one, at the head of the first page, a distortion of the Sigma Theta badge, accompanied by an abusive article regarding that society; the other, at the head of the editorial column on the second page, a genuine Sigma Phi badge, accompanied by a list of members. This paper had nothing to say of the upper-class societies, but bestowed its derision solely upon Sigma Theta and its Freshman inferiors, and though its general character was not unlike that of the Banger, its tone was yet a trifle more disreputable. So far as appears at this day; the Banger’s ridicule of all the upper-class societies, was impartial and without discrimination, and when it is borne in mind that the Sophomores responsible for it were all desirous of joining these societies in the future, they deserve some credit for their independence, whatever may be thought of their taste. This cannot be said of the Tomahawk, whose conductors never ventured upon dangerous ground. The only other society paper was the Battery, issued by the Delta Kap Freshmen, in February, 1850, which, by the aid of a sanguinary woodcut and hardly less dreadful letterpress, was enabled to “use up” most effectually its rivals and oppressors.

A society called “Kappa Delta Phi” which was started at the Wesleyan University of Middletown, Conn., at about the same time that Sigma Theta appeared at Yale, and which had also adopted Minerva’s head as its badge, was persuaded to change its name and become a chapter of Sigma Theta; but it shortly afterwards underwent another change, and became the Xi chapter of Psi U, under which name it exists at the parent day. Another chapter of Sigma Theta was extant at Amherst College in Massachusetts, in 1852, when it issued a sheet called the Amherst Scorpion, which was a worthy counterpart of the Yale Banger, published by the parent chapter. If any additional chapters ever existed, they long ago died or became absorbed in some stronger fraternity. Sigma Phi established a chapter called the “Delta” at Marietta College in Ohio, where it still flourishes, though not as a distinctively Sophomore society. It of course has been independent of Yale since the death of the original “Alpha” chapter in 1864. The “Beta” was established at Amherst in 1847, but was abolished by the faculty, after a few months’ existence. The “Gamma” was established at Princeton in 1854, and had a somewhat longer life, though the general decree against all such societies finally killed it. Beta Xi calls itself the “Alpha” and Theta Psi the “Phi,” but, as neither have yet established any outside branches, these chapter titles have no special significance. The reasons given in the case of the Freshman, societies show equally well why the chapter system will be apt to fail in Sophomore year also. There is, besides, as will be shown hereafter, less to these societies than there is to those of the other years; they are little more than tenders of the Junior organizations; and the interest in them, considered apart from the Junior societies they represent, is very small indeed. No Yale Sophomore society has ever yet published a catalogue of its members.

Phi Theta Psi.

Delta Beta Xi.

The steel-plate poster of Theta Psi represents the sun rising over the waves, and supporting the letters “Φ Θ Ψ” amid its rays; above the shield on which this is pictured rests the raven upon his book; below it is a bull dog’s head; while upon the scroll-work surrounding the design rests a band bearing the motto, Amici, usque ad aras, and the letters, “J. C.” The wood-cut vignettes, of which there have been two or three varieties, are of the same general design. The Beta Xi poster reproduces the design of the pin, and amid the ornamental scroll-work which sets off the central shield are the words, “Alpha,” “Yale,” the date “1864,” and the letters “C. L. V. E. N.,” initials of the old Sigma Phi motto before given, which, through printed in full at the head of the Tomahawk, is not in these days generally known outside the society, except in the version, “College laws violated every night.” In smaller characters, the old letters “A Σ Φ” and date “1846” are also displayed upon the design. The Beta Xi song book also contains all the old Sigma Phi songs, and the name was apparently chosen so as to be interchangeable with the latter. In every way this society makes prominent its parentage and represents itself as the “legitimate successor” of the old one. Theta Psi, on the other hand, though the eldest child, and holding undisputed the proud position of “oldest Sophomore society,” makes no claim for the succession, but prefers to keep its ultimate ancestry in the background, and in its songs greets without much respect “the bones of the dead, defunct and euchered Sigma Phi.” Each society possesses a few Sigma Phi relics,—Beta Xi a larger proportion,—though what little portable property of any value the old society held at the time of its death was probably seized upon by its indignant creditors. The Theta Psi hall is [was] in the Cutler Building, corner of Chapel and Church streets, a quarter of a mile from the colleges, and a rod or two from the hall of Delta Kap. Beta Xi hall is in Townsend’s Block, corner of Chapel and College streets, directly opposite the college yard itself. Both halls have been occupied since the societies were established, and are quite elegantly fitted up. That of Beta Xi is considerably the larger, and has the advantage—disadvantage, some say—in the matter of locality. Each hall is guarded without by a heavy iron door, and supplied with a well-equipped stage within—as a Sophomore society without theatricals would be an absurdity difficult for a college man to conceive of soberly. Since the above was written, Theta Psi has deserted Cutler Corner and moved into the old Diggers’ hall in Lyon Building, which, after refitting at an expense of $1,000, it, “opened” with a grand celebration on February 25, 1870. It now claims to have the most handsomely furnished hall in college.

When the Freshmen have been in college about a month or two, it begins to be generally known among them that certain of their number are being pledged by the upper-class men to join their societies. These chosen ones are soon perceived to be “their most prominent men,” and as the line between the pledged and unfledged becomes more sharply drawn, the latter are seized with an irresistible inclination to get their names also enrolled among the elect. Sometimes the Sophomore societies act with nominal independence in this matter; more often in their real characters as tenders to the organizations of Junior year. These latter, by means of committees, make haste to pledge all the Freshmen who at first view are desirable, and each of them having thus formed a nucleus of pledged men as a working force, is content to entrust to them in some measure the making up of “its crowd.” Thereafter the upper-class committee and the pledged Freshmen act in concert. If the latter, by secret ballot, unanimously recommend a class-mate, the former will probably pledge him; or if, on the other hand, they strongly object to a man recommended them by the committee, he will probably not be pledged. The committee or the society which it acts for are of course not bound in either case to do as indicated, but it is not often that they venture to set aside the wishes of the pledged men, either to reject a man recommended by, or to take one unpopular with, the latter. Each man as soon as pledged of course has the right to vote upon all names afterwards recommended, so that those latest chosen undergo a closer scrutiny as to their qualifications than do the components of the original nucleus. For the first two years after the present Sophomore societies were started, neither of them pledged independently. The Freshmen who pledged to DKE were assured of elections to Beta Xi, while those who pledged to Psi U—and Delta Phi also, though to a lesser extent—implied that their chances for Theta Psi were “good,” though they were promised nothing. Then followed a year when none of these societies gave pledges; but since that time the Sophomore societies have had regular pledging committees, and though most of those pledged to Theta Psi are also pledged to Psi U by the Juniors, and those to Beta Xi to DKE, it happens that in many cases the distinction is not observed. A man rarely refuses a pledge to a Sophomore society, and the reason for the cases in which it is done is the pecuniary one solely.

About a month after the third term begins, rumors prevail among the Freshmen that the Sophomore elections are soon to be given out. Though most of the men are definitely “pledged” in advance, there is always enough uncertainty as to the fact of their actual election to make the best of them feel a trifle anxious, as the time draws nigh for the official announcement of their fate; while those who are not pledged hope against hope that when the hour actually comes, “something will turn up” to place their names among the elect. Both societies generally agree upon the same night, which is usually that of Friday, for the giving out of elections—though there is no settled rule about the matter, either way. On the appointed evening, the Sophomore, Junior and Senior members assemble at the society hall, and at a late hour, not much before midnight, sally forth in a body upon their errand, marching by Classes in the order named, the president or some other official, distinguished by a dark-lantern, leading the way upon the “route” marked out in advance. Arriving at the rooms of the nearest Freshman, the procession halts, and sings a society song or two; then the Sophomore appointed for the purpose goes up to the room and says something to this effect : “Mr. So and So, I have the honor (or “the pleasure,” or simply “I offer”) of offering you an election to the So and So fraternity. Do you accept ?” Of course the Freshman says “Yes,” upon which the Soph congratulates him, and the whole party file in and do the same, each individual shaking him heartily by the hand. Congratulations over, the society men at once fall to discussing the provided “spread” of fruits, cake, and wine, and having partaken of the entertainment and lit fresh cigars, they assemble outside again, sing another song, and perhaps cheer a little, and proceed on their way to the next stopping place, where the ceremony is again repeated. If, as is usually the case, several pledged Freshmen are assembled at a single room, instead of one, a corresponding number of Sophomores go up to give them their elections, for each Sophomore has a particular Freshman assigned him to whom he is to offer the honor.

This theoretical manner of proceeding, however, is not apt to be observed after the first few elections have been given out. It generally happens that before the men deputed for the purpose have had time to offer any formal words, the crowd at their heels fill the room, and attack the eatables, without wasting time in hand-shaking or congratulation. A few are generally found who will secretly lug off a bottle of champagne or handful of cigars for future consumption. The procession grows more and more hilarious, and its songs hoarser and huskier as to utterance, until towards the last it is little better than a disorderly crowd, whose members are apt to laugh when some one smashes a street lamp with a banana, or tosses an orange through on open window; and when it has given out its final election, it lingers longingly about the concluding “treat,” and perhaps is at length obliged to drag away by main force a few of its tipsiest members, who drowsily insist on “making a night of it,” then and there. The disorder and rowdyism are due almost exclusively to members of the two upper classes; were the Sophomores left to themselves, discipline would be maintained. The elected Freshmen of the same or different societies meet together over the remains of their spreads, and “celebrate” their good fortune more or less uproariously, so that it is very near daylight when the last of them are once more quiet in their beds. Sometimes an expectant Fresh hears the society move by his house without stopping, and goes to bed in despair, only to be aroused on its return trip and suddenly made happy by receiving the pledged election. Sometimes an over-confident one prepares a treat for guests who never call. Sometimes an irate landlord, roused from sleep by the tramp of a disorganized host through his dwelling, and lashed into a frenzy by their discordant melodies, ejects from the house the Freshman lodger upon whom the honor has been bestowed, and writes off to his parents how their son has fallen into evil was, and become the habitual entertainer of midnight revelers. Generally, however, the boarding house keepers, knowing the character of the thing, and remembering that it comes only one night in a year, recognize it as a necessary evil, and submit to the infliction with as good grace as may be.

As the treat, formerly a trifling and impromptu affair, has gradually grown in importance, the custom comes more and more into vogue of offering it in the dining room of a hotel or restaurant, whither the half dozen or so who combine in paying for it go to receive their elections, in place of having them at their rooms. This proceeding of course prevents any unpleasantness with the private landlords. The Freshmen are generally advised in an unofficial manner as to the evening when they may expect elections, and in case a pledged man is not to receive an election, he usually receives a hint to that effect beforehand. A card, bearing on one side the society vignette, on the other the names of the men elected, is given to each man, so that after one election has been given out, the whole are in a measure made public, for the receiver of the card may contrive to hurry off and show it to the men named upon it, in advance of the procession which formally presents it to them. The names are usually printed, but in cases where elections were contested until the moment of issuing them, they are written with ink instead.

An interval of two or three weeks elapses before initiation takes place. Both societies may adopt the same evening,—usually that of Friday or Wednesday,—though about this there is the same indefiniteness, as about the times of giving out elections. The Freshmen having paid an initiation fee of from fifteen to twenty-five dollars,—to one of their own number, appointed collector by the Sophomores, and on account of his trouble excused from paying any fee for himself,—are directed, by a printed note addressed to each, to assemble at some particular room occupied by a Sophomore, at an early hour of the appointed evening. Here they are perhaps supplied with cigars, and left by themselves, to smoke and talk over the prospect before them, until summoned for initiation. They are generally led away alphabetically, from time to time, in parties of a half dozen or so, until in the course of an hour or more all have been put through the ceremony. What this is to consist of greatly exercises the Freshman mind, and rumors that it is merely a formal rite are contradicted by other rumors that it is a thing considerably more unpleasant than the Freshman initiation itself. The latter are the ones most credited by the Freshmen, while college belief in general rather favors the former. This much at least is certain, that the initiation is confined entirely to the society halls, and if some strange noises do that night emanate therefrom, the Freshmen come out of the ordeal not perceptibly injured, and the city newspapers print no facts or fancies concerning it. All the upper-class members are present at the initiation, and at the play which follows it, and at the supper which comes after the play. In old times this initiation supper was partaken of in the dining room of some hotel, and the bills of fare were embellished with the society vignette and motto, but the present societies have always held their suppers in or near their halls. It is rarely that any drink stronger than wine is provided at these suppers, though upper-class men may smuggle in a few bottles of more fiery beverage for their own private use, and after the newly initiated members have been dismissed, stay behind and “celebrate” by themselves. Next morning the Freshmen swing out their square pins with great pride, not unmingled with pity, in many cases, for friends who were less fortunate than themselves. The Freshman-society pins are still worn, however. In some cases the two are displayed side by side upon the vest, though more often the Freshman pin is attached to the vest, and the Sophomore badge to the shirt bosom, by the man who sports them both. In Sophomore year, when the Freshman pin has been discarded, the badge is oftener worn upon the shirt bosom, than in Freshman year, and when attached to the vest is usually worn lower down than in that latter year.

The meetings of the Sophomore societies are held each Saturday evening, from about ten o’clock till midnight, or a little past. Theta Psi generally sings as it marches up Chapel street to the colleges, and gives forth an additional song or two from the corner of the college fence before it disbands. Beta Xi also sings its songs upon that corner, at the close of its meetings. It sometimes happens that the two societies, reaching the fence at about the same time, take up positions at a short distance from one another and “sing with responsive strains,”—each society after offering one of its songs, pausing long enough to let the other sing out one of its own, before proceeding with the next. Perhaps, after having sung themselves out, both societies give cheers for each other, and so disperse. Similarly, when the two processions engaged in giving out elections chance to pass near one another, songs and cheers may be exchanged. On the other hand, less creditably and good naturedly, each society has on some occasions tried by singing to drown the voices of the other. These society songs, without being of a very high order of composition, are yet possessed of a sort of jovial melody, well adapted to the capacity of the miscellaneous voices accustomed to render them. In several of the Theta Psi songs, the “caw !” of the raven is introduced with fantastic effect. Though the present tense is retained in this paragraph, the state, of things described no longer really exists, since, within a year, all society singing has been forbidden by the college authorities; while of their own accord the Sophomores have substituted Friday night, for the traditional Saturday night, as the time for holding their meetings. For a while, after that singing had been brought under the ban, each society used to march in a body to the college corner, and there shout the names of its three Greek letters, with one sharp and united cry, as a signal for breaking up. But this practice was also forbidden.

Though the songs were thus publicly sung upon the street, the song books are kept secret with great care, and never shown to outsiders by active members. Nor do these often mention or refer to their societies in private except to other members, and hence outsiders rarely speak to a Sophomore concerning his or a rival society. Among upper-class men of course this carefulness does not prevail, but on the whole the Sophomore societies are, except those of Senior year, more secret than any others,—for in the Sophomore class little is known of their doings except by their members, while in the Junior class the proceedings of the Junior societies are generally understood by nearly everyone. Seniors or even Juniors do not hesitate to talk over in public the good points of the last play which they attended at their Sophomore society, and the “bum” held in connection with it. The general impression to be gained by an outsider, from their conversation and otherwise, is that the hall of the institution in question is a sort of club room where Sophomores drop in on Friday nights to play cards, smoke clay pipes and sip ale with one another. The Junior class will often be represented there, but never in force except on special occasions, as when there is a play, or a regular supper, or a contested election. At such times Seniors also are wont to appear. A graduate rarely comes to the hall except brought up there by a Senior, or under-class man. Old Sigma Phi men if members of Psi U are admitted to Theta Psi, if members of DKE to Beta Xi, “and no questions asked;” though most of them in the two or three classes preceding that of ’67, which founded the societies, were regularly elected and initiated as honorary members of one or the other organization, according to the rule indicated. Of course no old graduate ever goes near one of the Sophomore halls, unless invited thither by some active or recent member. But a Senior would not hesitate to invite any old graduate to join him in making a call at such a place, without any regard to that old graduate’s connection, or want of it, with Sigma Phi, or any other Sophomore or Junior society.

Thirty is the number of elections generally given out by each society, and as both combined make up less than half an average class, of course many desirable men are still left. out, whom their luckier classmates wish to have “in” with themselves. They rarely give out any new elections, however, until the new year has opened and they themselves are Sophomores. Then, when they have succeeded in electing a classmate, he is either brought at once to the hall by a messenger and initiated forthwith, or the society—upper-class men and all—march in procession to his room, singing songs and offering congratulations, after the old manner, and escort him back to the society hall. As a class election usually comes upon a man unexpectedly, a treat is not expected of him, yet if several are elected at once they often combine to give a supper at the hall, shortly afterwards; or a single individual who happens to be free with his money may after his election bear the whole expense of a society “spread.” When honorary members are elected from the two upper classes—and almost any Junior or Senior is glad to receive an election—a single classmate of the chosen one conducts him to the initiation. All names are voted upon separately by secret ballot, and a single negative vote is usually sufficient to reject a candidate. The ballot box is so arranged that each man can cast his vote without showing it or even seeing it himself; one compartment contains a number of white cubes (signifying Yes) and black balls (signifying No), and the voters selecting one of these thrusts it into the other compartment of the box undetected.

There is always considerably difficulty in reconciling the conflicting choices in the matter of elections. A man whose friend is blackballed, may vow to reject everyone else until his friend has been elected, and so on. An approved device for overcoming many difficulties is to “pair off” opposing candidates and elect them both on a joint ticket. In the case of class elections there is apt to be more than usual contention, for there is greater personal interest in the men, and the number allowed is much smaller, and the voters are bound by no pledge of any sort to say Yes. Pledged men, to be sure, are sometimes rejected, when formally offered for election; but it is accounted rather dishonorable for a society to do this in many cases without special reasons, and unless a man’s reputation or social standing changes greatly for the worse after he obtains a pledge, he may feel pretty confident of receiving his election also. It is very seldom, too, that a single blackball keeps a man from a society. However stubborn the caster of it may be at first, the “pressure” brought to bear upon him by the whole society arrayed in opposition is so enormous, that he is at length glad to reverse his vote and submit to the will of the majority. As the mortality among Sophomore-society men is usually large, the eight or ten class elections given at various times during the year rarely bring the active force above thirty in number. The last Sophomores are taken in just before the procession starts forth to give out elections to the Freshmen, and are not required to pay any initiation fees. The presidency and lesser offices of these societies are not accounted of much importance, and it is very rarely that there is the least excitement in regard to them. Even upper-class men seldom mention their incumbents,—though this is probably due more to the absence of any interest concerning them than to any settled objection against the betrayal of “secrets.” The annual expenses of membership are perhaps ten or fifteen dollars greater than in the societies of Freshman year.

The Sophomore year is a sort of transition period, and the Sophomore society fairly enough represents it. Everything is unsettled; men’s positions are every day changing both relatively and absolutely; and the fast, loud-mouthed element in the community is to all appearances the ruling one. For the first time the line between “society-men” and “neutrals” is plainly drawn, and the sheep are separated from the goats. There is a keener pleasure in sporting the Sophomore badge, a sharper regret at the inability to do so, than is possible in after years. The lucky Soph, turning his back upon the “heavy literary” performances of his Freshman year, thinks that the only true enjoyment of a select society must lie in going to the other extreme, and doing nothing whatever that smacks in any way of honest labor or improvement. The quiet, substantial men, who figure prominently afterwards, are in the class and society now, but they keep in the background, and are overshadowed by the light-headed, noisier crew who are suffered to have things all their own way. Next year, may be, the reverse will appear; for the societies of two different years, composed in succession of essentially the same individuals, may and in fact often do, differ widely in character and purpose. The faults of the Sophomore society are usually exaggerated by friends and enemies alike. It does not as a matter of fact encourage drunkenness or immorality,—though it may sometimes affect to do so. Perhaps the worst thing that can be fairly charged against it is its frivolous and purposeless character. It inspires a sort of pride in its members, but no affection. They look back upon their connection with it as a joke, and are careless as to its subsequent fate. It would probably be more hopeless to solicit money from them in its behalf than to ask it for their Freshman society. Yet, after all, few would willingly part with the host of conflicting memories reflected in the halo of very doubtful glory which encircles its name.