BOOK REVIEWS.

Rural Credits: Land and Coöperative. By Myron T. Herrick and R. Ingalls. D. Appleton & Company, New York. This volume is a very timely study of the land and agricultural credit systems of Europe. The author aims to prepare for future and better plans for the United States by a somewhat detailed analysis of the conditions prevailing in Europe, and in other parts of the world. Mr. Herrick obtained most of his information first-hand through his position as American Ambassador to France. In his own words, "I have deemed it a patriotic duty to investigate the rural-credit systems and institutions of various nations and to give my fellow-citizens the results of my search."

Mr. Herrick divides his subject into two parts. The first deals with Land Credit, With considerable detail he describes the remarkable extent to which the principles of land credit have been developed in all the countries of Europe. The application of these principles to the farming communities of the United States, Mr. Herrick holds would prove of tremendous financial value to the country. Long-time credit, such as is enjoyed by nearly every European farmer, would enable our farmers greatly to increase their holdings by permitting their sons to pay for part of the expense for improvements.

The same practical methods Mr. Herrick employs in discussing the coöperative credit societies of Europe. The advantages to the farmers who belong to these societies are pointed out, and the general scheme of formation clearly described. After illustrating the benefits arising from the operation of such societies, Mr. Herrick goes on to show how desirable it is that we in the United States should also enjoy the same advantages. But before this can be accomplished, certain objectionable State laws will have to be repealed, and more uniform legislation established throughout the various States of the Union.

The volume as a whole presents in an illuminating and striking way the contrast between the large and universal opportunities for land credit prevailing in Europe, and the corresponding lack of facilities existing in the United States. Even to the general reader, Mr. Herrick's book will succeed in emphasizing this contrast, and showing the desirability of our greatly improving and expanding our land-credit facilities.

Ο. Μ.Κ.

EDITOR'S TABLE.

“When all is said and done," remarked Leander, passing a bundle of unread manuscripts to Mr. Thoreau, who promptly stuffed them into the scrap-basket, "we've had a pretty good time. I, for one, shall be mighty sorry to have to give up this office."

"Yes," replied Cato, taking upon himself the task of answering this general observation, “I think—”

But Mr. Thoreau cut short the thought by shouting a string of Chinese epithets in Cato's ear, with the result that the stern essayist remained in a morbid silence throughout the rest of the evening.

"Well," Leander broke in, "let's get to work. Have you read the manuscripts, Harlequin ?"

"Of course not," returned that dark gentleman; "don't be ridiculous. I'm only here to-night, because I had nothing better to do, anyway."

At this moment Maeterlinck burst into the room.

"Here are two things of mine," he exclaimed breathlessly.

"They're late," remarked Leander sternly.

"Why, I told you about them—”

"Oh, all right." Maeterlinck left, his blond locks completely obliterating his left eye.

"It's my fault," continued Leander. "Now someone will have to read these things. Harlequin objects to my intonation of poetry-so I guess he can read them."

Harlequin read it.

"He reads like a plumber," said Ossawatomie to Cato, sotto voce.

"Humph!" said Cato, still very angry.

The make-up completed, and the choice posted, the discussion continued. "Look here," declared Leander, "Wilfred Ward read "The Bugle Song' last year as Tennyson read it-and it was fine. Now I don't see "

"But they both had beards," suggested Thoreau.

"Well," said Leander, "I'm recommending it to Harlequin-he has the requirements. Let's see, it went like this: ‘Dying, dy—ing, dy—ing.” "But I think-"

"Look here, hadn't we-"

"Did you ever try-"

"Huh!"

There was a confused babel of voices. A moment later a passing member of the University Orchestra heard strange sounds in this office. "Hum," thought he, "the LIT. Board is singing its farewell dirge." And out over the Campus floated in mournful cadence the sound of five strong young voices that intoned sonorously:

IT

FOR REFORMERS ONLY.

T has been our whimsical custom at Yale College to preserve a longitudinal range in our outside interests; we are traditionally conscious of the existence of Harvard University, and we are periodically aroused to the presence of a similar institution at Princeton, New Jersey. Occasionally the Campus elms blossom forth in posters of yellow or green calling attention to some vaguely familiar educational formula. Occasionally the daily bulletin of the University notes that such or such a college has or is about to win or be defeated by our representatives in this or that field of sport. But, for the most part, we allow the exigencies of the Atlantic seaboard to determine our collegiate relations.

And this particular astygmatism is exceptionally fortunate. It saves us the doubtful pleasure of perceiving and marveling at the newer universities of the Western Republic. For, once conscious of their existence, we could have no choice but to marvel. Sheer magnificence is to be blinked by none save the high-gravel blind. The visionary gaze of philosophy itself cannot rest upon acropoles of Indiana marble and laboratories of steel and glass without a certain awful consciousness of their

reality, and the very monocle of culture must focus with a degree of surprise upon the "plants" wherein great States and Territories nourish the radicalisms of youth. These are more than universities, more than fountains of sweetness and light. They are vast business organizations trading in education, capitalized at gigantic sums, dealing with thousands of customers and accomplishing unbelievable profit. One such institution has revolutionized the industries of an entire State. Another has taught its students political fearlessness that has already caused certain of our high dignitaries moments of prophetic pain. Everywhere these universities of the new era are dealing with the needs of the present as they meet them. Their scientific courses, their lectures in economics, journalism, history, the drama, are unsurpassed in the history of universities. Briefly, they are solving the problems of practical education, and teaching their students what their students will find it useful to know. More briefly still, they are threatening the leadership of the older and poorer universities of the East.

The time is not far off when the ambitious young American, the embryo scientist, the student of economics, the tyro in the milking of cows, will proceed to his State capital for the satisfaction of the thirst of his soul. And he will so proceed because he will discover that the facilities offered in the State Universities are more elaborate, the professors more highly paid, and the studies of science, economics, and the hydraulics of the dairy more efficiently taught. Such a consummation of our devoutest fears is not far distant; indeed it is inevitable if we attempt to compete with the State Universities upon their own ground. And its result would be too cataclysmic to permit of our calm consideration. Deprived of the rugged, democratic youth of the Middle West and the Missouri Valley, we should have a Yale in which the unadventurous sons of inherited niceties, and the decorous candidates for membership in the exclusive clubs of New York and Philadelphia predominateda Yale which exchanged enthusiasm and energy for milk and honey. (In default of those lurid powers of imagination required for the conception of such a Yale any Nebraskan comment on the Eastern universities will present the type.)

So much, then, for inevitable ruin-the method of redemp