In Memoriam

Ir is our sad duty to chronicle the death of Dr. EDWARD D. CAMPBELL, son of Prof. J. L. Campbell, and an old alumnus of this institution. He died at the residence of his father, November 2d. The funeral services were conducted in his father's house, after which his remains were followed to the grave by a large concourse of sorrowing friends and students and officers of the University.

Deceased had only recently established himself in the practice of his profession at Lexington, and already his youth gave flattering promises which his early death will prevent his age from fulfilling. A recent graduate of the Richmond Medical College, his application was only exceeded by his enthusiasm in his chosen pursuit.

Mr. Campbell had been for several years a consistent member of the Presbyterian church. His last moments were tranquil, and he passed away quietly,

"Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch

About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.”

His parents and relatives have our sympathy in their sad be

reavement.

SIDDARTHA.

The moon was by the Crab-a sign foretold
By priests and sages, at which Buddha, sprung
From seed divine, should choose between two ways.
The one was fraught with every woe to man-
The cries, the tears, the groans of human souls,
While bloody conquest was to strike all nations
With remembrance of their conqueror;
The other promise gave of blessings rich
And lasting from Him, the father of us all.

But Siddartha's heart was sad, and in the whispering
Winds he heard the wail of human kind:

His great soul in his god-like bosom throbbed,
Giving earnest proud of joy to world's unborn.
O Yasodhâra, loveliest of all

The dark-eyed maidens of the Sakyas,
Siddartha's eyes now seek thy shapely form
Beneath the purdah's golden fringe: he starts,
Now stops and gazes on that brow where smiles
And playful frowns were wont to chase each other,
Making a countenance as beautiful

And changeable as Indian skies in summer:
The cheeks are rosy with young health, the lips,
Vermillion-tinted, parting slightly, show

The teeth of pearl, while a bosom soft and fair
Falls and rises like the gentle swell of the sea.
Siddartha lingers long and bends his eyes
Upon her feature's perfect symmetry.

Then stoops to snatch a last and rapturous kiss
From off those lips on which he oft had breathed
The amorous sighs of love and ecstasy.

The sleeper sighs and slumbers on, and prince
Siddartha parts the sacred curtains of

The nuptial couch and steals in silence through
The midst of beauties, lightly slumbering,
Whose office 'tis to carry gladness through
His finely wrought and spacious palace halls.
'Tis said he paused, with look irresolute-
Such power hath beauty even over gods—
But only for a moment, then he bade
The faithful Channa his proud charger bring,
And good Siddârtha, since Light of Asia styled,
From forth his gilded pleasure-palace rode
At midnight on his jeweled steed Kantaka.

HE assurances which were reiterated in last issue that the COLLEGIAN should be made, so far as the Editors are able, a true representative of the students at large, seem to have been not without their effect. We believe that there are fewer students who have refused to take their COLLEGIAN's from the Post Office this year than ever before. We are grateful at seeing such general interest manifested, and we hope that all will continue not only to give us pecuniary aid, but to submit to us scraps of prose and verse, so as to keep up by diversity the vigor and interest of our periodical. In looking over our exchanges we find many periodicals, no better than ours, indeed, but with eight and often ten editors each. We see, then, that with us one man must do the work performed elsewhere by two. Now while we do not think it expedient to increase the number of Editors, we do think that the work of the regular staff should be lightened by hints and occasional contributions from outside. These will be of more benefit to the contributors than to us, and since the Societies are shorn of their ornaments and the ambitious can no longer hope for golden honors in the cultus of the god Mercury, Chrysostom must address his prayers to the Muses or take up his pen in the service of Clio, and seek to rival the greatness of the past.

THE BOXING CLUB.

HOUGH we are painfully aware that the suggestions of

the COLLEGIAN are seldom acted upon, we think that one should never weary of giving good counsel. Foot ball is fast becoming unpopular on account of the disagreeable weather, and many feel the need of something to beguile the long rainy evenings. What more manly or healthful exercise than boxing! Boxing is deservedly popular among English and American students. In England especially the pugilistic science has been so well cultivated and so zealously supported that the fame of its disciples has penetrated to the remotest parts of the earth. Not confined to students, the art was practised by the sons of the wealthier families, who formed themselves into clubs which aroused great enthusiasm and were attended with immense success. Did a stout churl who depended solely on his muck, give trouble, a man was brought out that had seen practice with the gloves, and seldom did science have to yield to mere brute strength. In those good old days proficiency in boxing was as necessary to the student as a knowledge of Greek or Latin, and it was often an accomplishment which he took infinitely more pride in. He cultivated it as a distinguishing characteristic, as an instrument for enforcing his individuality and for the manifest superiority which a knowledge of the art confers. The American student has shown no disposition to be behind in anything. Let us not be behind in this. The expenses of organization are merely nominal and rooms can be easily obtained. Foils might also be had and fencing made a : part of the exercise. We are confident that some step will be taken soon in this direction, and we predict even greater success than has hitherto attended such efforts among us.

THE MESS HALL.

EVERAL times have we taken up our sacreligious pen to disturb the fatal quiet of a chronic ulcer which has been festering in the body of our corporation politic for more than

one year past. Our old Mess Hall is reckoned among the things that were. The rains of the changing seasons have fallen to a depth of perhaps eighty inches on the site which it once occupied, since its demise. The dews of melting Heaven have wept their moisture on its ashes, but its desolation changeth not, changeth not! A voice of silent protestation declares that it is not the Phoenix and cannot rise from its ashes without external aid. If the Board of Trustees are waiting for this much-wished-for event, it cannot be.

Our old Mess Hall was advantageous in at least two ways. In the first place, it furnished a cheap boarding house for the poorer class of students and, in this way, was a great inducement for them to attend College. In the second place it furnished a hall, well-nigh indispensable, for the accommodation of hoppists and others that seek by hilarity to increase the longevity of their lives. The Society halls which have been of late used for Final Balls and other entertainments are insecure to the extent of being dangerous. The question arises, why is not a building the need of which is so generally felt rebuilt? Some say that money is not to be had. If we believ ed this, we would say no more; but we understand that the loss of the old Mess Hall was fully covered by the insurance. Has the insurance company failed? We hav'nt heard of it. Where then is the money gone? Let those whose duty it is to supply this needful building answer.

SOME FRIENDLY ADVICE.

HERE are men in almost every town and city of the United States, that do not advertise, yet derive profit from the efforts of the local press. There are men in every city that oppose all city improvements, however useful, that involve the outlay of a few dollars. They walk sometimes in the public parks; but they take no notice of the children laughing and playing upon the green grass that skirts the smooth gravel walks or the merry groups, so busily chatting on rustic seats. The soul of such a man is not touched, even