In writing our virgin editorial, we naturally attempt to ponder on the principles of composition. These three: coherence, unity and emphasis; but the greatest of these is when to stop. Discuss the athletic situation; expound the intricacies of trilogical cooperation of malfeasance of subsidized athletes, of the situation in one's own college--but then to stop. Consider the tutors of the English department, their merits, demerits, and absence, and stop. Stop before so much as considering the advisability of compulsory Chapel. Expostulate on the pseudo-stone pillars on University Hall now painted white and palpably wooden; on the stone steps therein that hang upon no visible support; on any subject connected with the architecture of the most beautiful building in the Yard (barring Hollis) but at that point, stop.

Disputale at will upon the idiosyneracies of Bryan, or llylan, or some of our English Professors; upon the latest entry into the field of education, the college for crooks; upon the difficulty of not antagonizing one's advertisers; upon the murder wag--but then, stop. Turn the flow of searching discourse to the favoritism of the Phi Beta Kappa and the Lampoon; to the advisability of renovating Holyoke House and Apthorp; to a discursive dissertation on the brilliant conversation heard on Massachusetts avenue at yet it is time to stop. Exhort the track team and the crew and all the rest of our paid athletes (cf. "The Pink", of the paper for people who think) to earn their pin-money; advocate the presentation of Macbeth, with the goodies to participate as witches; deplore the lack of interest in the museums, and the great interest in Turkish Baths--but here is the climax upon which it is wise to cease.

In all such exposition, remember only that unity, coherence, and emphasis are necessary: but the greatest we have reached the above-mentioned climax. We stop.