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UNIVERSITY COURIER.
THE SOPHOMORE RECEPTION.
The Sophomore class made a new departure. Friday evening, May 9th, a grand reception was given to the class by one of the young lady members, Miss Mamie Woodward, at her home on Tennessee Street. The class in its Freshman year gave great promise, and as it nears the close of its second collegiate year, it is acknowledged, by the Faculty and students, both in the higher and lower classes, to be the most intelligent class that has ever entered the University. By nine o'clock each gallant Sophomore and lady had assembled. Mr. W. H. Simpson and Misses Marvin and Bay, Mr. R. W. E. Twitchell and Miss Mamie Dillon, Mr. W. H. Herron and Miss Maggie Eidemiller, Mr. C. G. Upton and Miss Alice Peabody, Mr. E. G. Smith and Miss Alice Collier, Mr. G. S. Hopkins and Misses Morrow and Baker, C. F. Scott and Miss Florence Finch, Mr. H. J. Hendricks and Miss Julia Watson, Mr. E. Hayworth and Miss Mary Schmucker, Mr. S. O. Henry and Miss Nellie Thacher, Mr. Richard Foster and Miss Mamie Woodward. The early part of the evening was passed gaily, in conversation, interspersed with vocal and instrumental music: later, the company was called to order by the president, Miss Florence Finch, and, after a few introductory remarks, she announced the programme, which was as follows: First, the poetess, Miss Alice Peabody, read a short poem, on the first experiences and future hopes of the class. The poem was beaming with wit, and was received with merited applause. A historical sketch followed, written by Miss Mamie Woodward, and read by Mr. H. J. Hendricks, containing a personal sketch of each individual member, relating the probable and improbable events, from "childhood's early hour;" their fortunes and misfortunes, as well as their joys and sorrows. The prophet, Mr. C. F. Scott, who, up to this time had been confined in a closet, mid cyanide bottles, bug nets and butterfly presses, was led forth, and, unlike his associates who looked through a glass darkly, he, face to face, revealed their future, portraying in vivid colors the worlds they are to conquer; the scientific principles they were to discover—here is a great statesman, there an eminent author, their worthy president a physician and surgeon equal to Valentine Mott, one a divine, another a silver-tongued orator—and forever dispelling the fear which had greatly agitated the class, that the world would positively come to an end when they should leave the rostrum as graduates of the K. S. U. Refreshments were then served, and disposed of as only voracious Sophs can. The remainder of the evening was spent in music and dancing, and, at a late hour, having bidden their fair hostess a kind adieu, they dispersed, having spent a most enviable evening.
—"I will ignore your existence."
—Who killed the snaiik? A mystery.
—Miss Eaton will return to Russell Monday.
—"I am going to buy a pistol, and carry it after this."
—Alas! Where is Raymond? For particulars see Geo. Flick.
—He fell from a tree. O, why this mighty fall? For particulars see S. C.
—Flick was in Kansas City lately. He gives glowing accounts of the sights.
THEORY AND PRACTICE.
It is said that in all this world there are no two persons who are exactly alike, that possess every quality in exactly the same degree. And yet all of these may be classified in three grand divisions: theorists, strictly practical men, and those who combine in themselves both theory and practice. Of the two elements, theory and practice, all men are composed. These elements extend throughout the universe. That everything is made implies practice; that everything is made on a plan implies theory. And as sure as it is that everything to succeed must follow some plan or system, so sure is it that a man, to succeed, must combine in himself both theory and practice. Theory is the method by which anything should and could be done, were there no contingencies, no counter currents, no antagonistic force of opposite laws, no anything, except what appears to the fired imagination of the ambitious youth, calculating his chances of success in life. But the moment he appears in the active world to fulfill those calculations, he sees another element which had not appeared to him before. An indescribable something which some have called chance. But whatever it may be called, it is an element which throws into confusion the best laid theories of philosophic minds. In putting into execution theories when in contact with this element of chance, another element, which might be called the law of adaptation, generally called practise, must be brought to our aid. It is this that takes up theories and works them, in spite of the antagonism which may come from time and chance.
Theory and practice are two of the many things with which the world is filled, that are so closely allied and yet so mutually destructive. They are as some one has remarked of women: "Men cannot get along without them, and hardly with them." Practice cannot exist without theory. A man cannot build without a plan. And yet we seldom see a great theorist who is capable of carrying into successful operation his theories. The philosopher, John Locke, was one of the finest theorists that the English people have ever known. But when he attempted to form a code of laws for governing men, according to the most approved style, he failed. He undoubtedly had beautiful theories, but in acquiring them he had lost the power of putting them into shape for practical use. There must be theories of government, but experience shows that those governments which have the least theory are practically most successful. Not that theory in itself is not desirable, but that too much of it destroys executive ability. When a ruler comes to look upon his subjects merely as parts of a grand machine, of which he is the head, he leaves out of the calculation an element in man which becomes painfully apparent when he attempts to execute his plans. It has been remarked by a recent lecturer that the tendency is to mass men, to throw them into one vast machine, of which one man is the manager. In other words, to theorize them. To this source may, in reality, be traced the riots of the last few years. Men feel that they have been insulted, their rights trampled upon, and they are determined on revenge. They can give no reasonable cause for their insane anger, so they point to the "bloated bond-holders," who, they say, are robbing them. But the root of the matter is this attempt to mass them, to destroy their individuality. The same thing may be seen in our schools, where one teacher is the idol, the other the abhorrence, of the students. The cause of this may be found in the