CHAPTER XXIV.

UNIVERSITY UNDERGRADUATE LIFE, 1740-1791-1891.

College undergraduate life is largely molded by external circumstances; and as we trace the history of any college we will find that the everyday life of its students has followed a course of development along with the institution itself. And now that the first hundred years of the corporate existence of our University have passed away, we may with interest compare the two pictures, University undergraduate life of the last century and University undergraduate life of our own times. Somewhat different from the undergraduate life of the present was the undergraduate life of over a hundred years ago, in the days of cocked hats and knee breeches, when Philadelphia was but a smali provincial town, when our country was the colonies of Great Britain, and our forefathers were the loyal subjects of His Majesty, King George the Third. The University, at first known as the Academy and afterwards as the College, was then established on Fourth street, near Arch. Even at that early day the College was one of the principal institutions of learning in the colonies, and was known abroad almost as well as at home. Its faculty consisted of five professors and a number of instructors, a large corps for that time, and its curriculum comprised the studies which continued, until quite recent years, to comprise the course of our best American colleges. It numbered its students by the hundreds, and drew them from all the colonies, many coming also from the West Indies. Such of the students as came from abroad were lodged in dormitories within the College walls, and we may add, as a curious example of the morals of the age, that the funds for the erection of these buildings were raised by a lottery. At this time the entire annual expense of a student, including tuition, board, and firewood, was only £30.

An ancient statute book of the University gives us an insight into the college life of the last century; and as we gaze upon the wrinkled yellow paper with its faded writing, there rises before us a shadowy picture of those olden times. The document is valuable, not only intrinsically, but for the thoughts that it suggests. The code aimed at regulating the entire life of the student by exercising physical, moral, and intellectual supervision over him in all ways "found salutary and

good upon trial." To begin, fighting was a serious offense; that is, an offense punishable by corporal chastisement. This rule was, perhaps, rendered necessary by an old college custom which compelled every student upon his admission to have at least one pugilistic battle with one of his classmates, in order to establish his claim to the honor of being called an "Academy boy." And as an indication of the tenacity with which the eighteenth century collegians clung to their ancient cus toms, we may note that on the margin opposite this clause of the rules stand the melancholy words, "Needs amendment." Blasphemy, cursing, drunkenness, gaming, and kindred offenses were punished by a fine of 3 shillings or by chastisement; and if the transgressor persisted in his evil courses he was liable to suspension. Nor did the rules forget the religious education of the student. There was a special provision compelling church attendance on the Sabbath, and elaborate rules referring to chapel attendance and behavior; but it does not speak well for the morals of the time to find here the marginal note, "Not effectual." An absence from prayers in those days cost the culprit two English half-pence, and for "cuts" of all other kinds the price was an even shilling. To restrain the too ardent spirits of our forefathers, and to preserve the scholastic quiet that ought to envelop an institution of learning, it was enacted:

No student shall climb over the fences of the College yard, or come in or go out through the windows, or play ball, or use any kind of diversion within the yard of the University, nor shall in the presence of the trustees, professors, or tutors, play ball, wrestle, make any indecent noise, or behave in any way rudely in the College yard or streets adjacent.

It is evident from this that athletics had not yet come into fashion. Thus the rules run on until, as we read and ponder, it requires no great effort of the imagination to picture to ourselves the everyday undergraduate life of a hundred years ago.

History gives us several amusing anecdotes of the early instructors in the College. Master John Beveridge, a Latin professor, was the butt of all the practical jokes of the students. They dared even to steal his wig off his head; and it is related that on one occasion, while he sat hearing a recitation, the shutters were suddenly closed, leaving the room in darkness, and the astounded instructor was driven from his room by a shower of books, amid the yells and jeers of the class. But David James Dove, the first teacher of the English school, was more than a match for the students. To borrow an eighteenth century pun, he was said to have been more of a falcon than a dove. When he kept a private school, before his elevation to a college professorship, he invented a novel method of punishing lateness. When a boy was late in the morning he used to dispatch a deputation of six scholars with a bell and lighted lantern to escort the delinquent to school in state. And it is related that on one occasion Master Dove, being himself belated, was waited on by the committee. But he, nothing

disconcerted, put himself behind the bell and lantern, and marched to school, "to no small gratification of the boys and entertainment of the spectators." Whether he introduced his custom into the College the chronicle saith not.

The one form of athletics cultivated in the College in pre-Revolutionary times was running. Over this sport they became even enthusiastic. "Stripped to the shirt, head bound with a handkerchief, loos. ened knee-bands, and barefooted, the racers started from the Arch street corner and encompassed the College grounds; while the people stood in crowds, open-mouthed, eager to catch the first view of the victor, their swift-footed Achilles.""

But the one event in the College year that aroused popular attention to the highest, that brought together all the gentry of Philadelphia and delegations from outside the colony, was the annual commencement. In those days a commencement was the affair of a whole day. The exercises began at 9 o'clock in the morning and continued till noon, when the audience dispersed for dinner, after which they reassembled until sundown. The program comprised a dialogue and ode, commemorating some public event, a "charge" to the graduates, poems, orations, disputations in Latin and English, and the discussions of theses. The music, a prominent feature, was furnished by the Orpheus Club of the College, or by His Majesty's Marine Band. At the commencement of 1759 the Hon. James Hamilton, governor of the Colony, favored the citizens with a few words. In 1762 the program was in Latin, a huge broadside 2 feet long and a foot wide, printed in display type. The newspapers of the time tell us that the "Commencement was held at the College in the Presence of a learned, polite, and very brilliant Assembly," that "His Honour, the Governor, was pleased to attend the whole day," that "many other Gentlemen of learning and the first Distinction from the neighbouring parts were likewise present," that the valedic tory was spoken "with much Elegance and Tenderness," and that "Everything was conducted with the utmost Decency and order." The attraction of the commencement of 1771 was the singing of an ode to organ accompaniment by Jacob Bankson, esq., A. M. The other mu sical features of the entertainment were furnished by the bands of the Eighteenth or Royal Regiment of Ireland, and of the Twenty-first or Royal North British Fusileers. The exercises lasted the whole day and are said to have given "general satisfaction." In 1775 the Continental Congress attended the commencement, "the galleries and other parts of the house being filled with as many of the respectable inhabitants of the city as could find room." The eighteenth century commencement, in truth, was the one outlet for college feeling, suppressed for an entire year, and into that celebration the collegians of the time threw themselves heart and soul.

Forever passed away are these scenes of ancient college life, and the vision of eighteenth century manners and customs gives place to the

picture of our modern university undergraduate life. Yet the intervening years were not devoid of interest; they were years of earnest, hard work; years marked by the birth of many schemes which have come to maturity only in this our day. And the college life of this period was marked by many an important event. We could tell of the abrogation of the College charter in 1779, of its restoration ten years later, and of the organization of the University under its present charter in 1791. We could tell the story of our College during the Revolution, when its buildings were seized as barracks by the Continental soldiers, and when, later, the iron heel of the British trooper was planted in those halls consecrated to learning. We could tell how during the War of 1812 the University boys worked on the fortifications like common laborers, and pages could be filled with the narration of the gallant conduct of Pennsylvania's sons during the Civil war. But these are matters of history, and all the world knows them. These years were the period of struggle; to-day, the period of success.

The departure of the University in 1872 from Ninth and Chestnut streets, whither it had removed in 1802, marked the new era in University affairs; and from this time the undergraduate life begins to present substantially the same aspect that it does to-day. The University, since it has removed to its new home, taking advantage of the opportunity for growth thereby afforded, has advanced in all directions with gigantic strides; and student life, expanding along with the College itself, has become complex and many sided. But there is one consideration that must be borne in mind in the study of life at the University of Pennsylvania-the absence of dormitories. This, together with the location of the University close to the heart of a great city, gives a distinctive feature to undergraduate life, since external relations vie with the College in claiming the interest of the student. And as a result of environment, many of the phases of life common to other great colleges are unknown in the University, while, at the same time, life there presents some unique features.

Viewed from the educational side, life at the University does not differ greatly from life at any other large college where an able corps of instructors, well-arranged courses, and a complete equipment combine to afford a higher education. In educational matters the University has kept fully abreast of the times. She was early to introduce the elective system, and besides, should a class of students desire to take up a special study, they have little trouble in finding an instructor able and willing to assist them; and in addition to class instruction, both in course and voluntary, a great deal of work is done in the University through the seminar system. A number of students, interested in a particular study, meet their professor, often at his house, and spend an evening in informal discussion. The amount of good accomplished by the seminars is incalculable. Besides the knowledge acquired by a method of instruction in which the interest of all is espe

cially aroused and the preceptor acquainted with the mental characteristics of his class, students and professor are brought into intimate personal contact, the barrier that too often stands between them is broken down, and students and professor bound together in a closer union.

The influence of these features above alluded to, the absence of dormitories, and the location of the University in the city, is most noticeable when we turn to the social side of undergraduate life. There is no home life of the College, and no opportunity for the formation of those relations which usually lend a charm to college life. But the social instinct of the University men, curbed in this direction, seeks an outlet through the medium of societies, manifold in number and varied in character. There are societies literary, scientific, religious, and secret; clubs artistic, musical, athletic, and social. In the first place, we have the Philomathean Society, the old established literary association, and her worthy sister the Scientific Society, and the Greek letter fraternities. Then we may note the Christian Association, and the Church club, the orchestra, the banjo club, and the glee club, the mask and wig, the sketch club, the gun club, the chess club, and the bicycle club. The list might be indefinitely extended were we to attempt an enumeration of all the miscellaneous societies, with objects as diverse as their names. Into these various associations the students are drawn, each one according to his tastes and endowments; and in the smaller circle of the association they try to find a substitute for the wider college life that is at present impossible. And in passing, we must notice, also, athletics, for they, too, exert a social influence. Yet ultimately, the societies react on the whole University. For the men in the various societies and on the various athletic teams are knit together more closely by the bond of their common interest, and thus is aroused a livelier interest in the College, of which the society is but a part.

Though hazing is a barbarism unknown in the University, we are not to imagine the University men devoid of class spirit. Indeed, nowhere does class spirit run higher, and nowhere are the sophomores, the proverbial bullies of the college world, more jealous of their rights. By unwritten University law no freshman is permitted to use a cloth bag, wear a high hat, or carry a cane, and woe to the freshman who, in his ignorance or insolence, dares to transgress these regulations. After a brief tussle fragments of his hat or bag adorn the lapels of the victorious upper classmen, and the broken cane goes off to the carpenter shop to be cut into rings suitable for the manufacture of sleeve buttons for the victorious "sophs." But these fights are usually prearranged affairs, where the freshmen, attired in canvas jackets and short breeches, and some even naked to the waist, appear on the scene brandishing their cane of well-seasoned hickory 6 feet long and 3 inches thick, or intrench themselves in a convenient corner and dare the sophomores to oust them. Many are the escapades perpetrated