to those who distrust and dislike college athletics, little which intimates the opinion that the athleticism of to-day is only a reaction after the former total neglect of gymnastics or a mere passing passion among our youth. But, if we concede that these exercises and contests are to hold their place in American life, is there no stopping-place, no point at which college authorities or the young men themselves, on their own motion, in their own discretion, for their own good, can say, "Thus far and no farther"?

I answer yes. There is such a natural stopping-place. It is at the doors of the professional school. Among young men in the course of education, athletics should belong to the college stage; gymnastics, to all stages. Whether this shall be done by regulation, or be left to the operation of forces working upon the minds of the individuals concerned, I believe the result indicated will, in either case, be reached. Already the undergraduate principle is widely though irregularly recognized; and the movement of opinion is still clearly in progress in this direction. Here at Harvard you have seen many a renowned champion put off athletics as he entered the Law School or the Medical School. The rule should be made of universal application; and it will require but a little more discussion, a little higher education of student-opinion, to bring this about. In and after the professional school, whether that be a school of law, of medicine, of divinity, or of technology, there should be no representative teams. The principle of competition and championship should be dropped. Individuals should continue, at their pleasure, to play tennis or cricket or football with their classes, with private clubs, or in town and county matches; or, if teams be formed in such schools, they should not be regarded as carrying the honor of their institutions around with them. Such teams should not expect victory. They should play for exercise and for the fun of the thing, and should accept their inevitable beating with serenity and good nature, recognizing the fact that, since they have taken up the serious work of professional preparation for life, they no longer have the time or the strength at command to make and to keep them champions.

There is one remaining question regarding the athleticism of to-day, which I feel myself so little qualified to discuss that I did not even allude to it while enumerating the things that might be said in favor of competitive sports, or at least in deprecation of the hostile criticisms directed upon them, but which, in closing, I would propose to your sounder judgment and keener thought.

It is whether the college athletics, which so many approve and

so many condemn, have not, after all, a deeper significance,whether this remarkable outburst of enthusiasm for physical development and for the perfecting of the human body is not related, perhaps vitally and intimately, to the growth of a feeling for art in this new land of ours. No classical scholar will for a moment

admit it to have been an accidental coincidence that the nation of the Old World which pursued athletics with the most passionate eagerness, which showered honors upon the victor in running or in wrestling not inferior to those which it gave to the author of an accepted tragedy,— that nation whose tribes came by long and perilous journeys over stormy seas to witness the great athletic competitions by the banks of the Alpheus or on the Crissæan plain was the same nation which carried the arts, and especially the plastic arts, to the highest point of perfection ever attained.

If, indeed, there is believed to have been a vital connection between these seemingly diverse manifestations of Grecian life, who shall say that the remarkable enthusiasm for physical training and the intense interest in athletic contests which have been so suddenly developed in our country may not be clearly seen a generation hence to have accompanied, and that through no accidental association, the elevation of art to a far higher and nobler place than it had before occupied in the thoughts and affections of our people? The life-class is the true school of the artist. The greatest of all who bear that name have been men who revered the human form, made it their chief study, and found in it their highest delight. If, in truth, this sublime passion is taking possession of the nation, who shall estimate at a price the worth of that inspiration? The vision of the Apollo may yet rise to the view of thousands out and up from the arena at Springfield, as erst it rose before the thronging multitudes of Olympia.

FRANCIS A. Walker.

EXAMPLES OF NOTABLE WORKS BY
INSTITUTE MEN

GEORGE ELLERY HALE, '90, IN ASTROPHYSICS

At a recent meeting of the Society of Arts a large and appreciative audience had the pleasure of listening to a beautifully illustrated lecture by Professor George E. Hale, director of the Yerkes Observatory, on the recent discoveries and advances made with the great 40-inch telescope. Those of the audience who were unfamiliar with Professor Hale's numerous publications, and with his characteristic modesty, would never have realized from his lecture. the importance of his own discoveries, or the extent of his cooperation and suggestion in the work of others. The following sketch of Professor Hale's work since his graduation from the Institute, less than eleven years ago, cannot fail to be of interest, not only to members of his own class, but to all Institute men as well; for he is recognized in the scientific world to-day as one of our most illustrious alumni,- one whose splendid achievements are an honor to his class, to his course, and to the Institute. Few of our men have made for themselves in the first few years after graduation not only a national, but international reputation; but that is Hale's record. He is to-day not only director of the finest observatory in the world, but also one of the recognized leaders in modern astronomy, or astrophysics.

Hale was born in Chicago, June 29, 1868. His love for investigation manifested itself while he was still at school, his workshop and "lab" being always his favorite recreation grounds. Fortunately, he was encouraged in following his natural bent by a very wise father, who, recognizing his son's unusual aptitude for research, did everything in his power to further his progress in his chosen line of work. Hale prepared for Tech at the Chicago Manual Training School, and entered with the class of 1890 in 1886. His love for science at that time was so developed that it left no ques

tion as to choice of course. Course VIII was a foregone conclusion. He had from the first the definite idea of becoming an astronomer,- not of the old mathematical school, but of the modern school of astrophysicists, and his Institute course was, so far as was practicable, shaped to that end. This was made the more possible through the courtesy of Professor E. C. Pickering, director of the Harvard College Observatory, and previously the first director

of our physical laboratory, who has always maintained the kindest interest in our work. It is gratifying to know that now, as then, Hale regards our course in physics as the best undergraduate course for students desiring a scientific training to be had anywhere in the country.

In the summer of his Sophomore year, Hale's father built and equipped for him a private spectroscopic laboratory at his home in Chicago. This laboratory was the beginning of the Kenwood Observatory, which was equipped in 1891 with a fine 12-inch tele

scope. It was here that Hale took up his researches on the sun, immediately after his graduation from the Institute in 1890. Before his graduation he had devised a new instrument, the spectroheliograph, which was used in his thesis carried on at the Harvard Observatory. With this instrument he succeeded, in 1891, in photographing for the first time without a total eclipse, the solar

prominences, and also the faculæ and fine structure of the solar disk never before obtained. This was done by a most ingenious device, consisting of two simultaneously moving slits, by which the object was photographed with monochromatic light emitted by some line in its own spectrum. Figure 1 is a photograph of an enormous eruptive prominence obtained with this instrument. The two views are of the same prominence taken eighteen minutes apart, and indicate the velocity with which this mass of incandescent vapor was projected from the sun. The solution of this difficult prob