Mass action has always been a favorite method of student expression. Of this the organized "bolting" of the years just after the war is an example. This went on to such a degree that it became necessary for the Faculty to pass a resolution stating that "in the absence of an instructor, his class shall be expected to remain until at least five minutes after the ringing of the bell." Apparently this did not stop the practice, and suspension or dismissal were threatened in 1867. This rule was drastically applied in 1871 when a large number of freshmen and sophomores, who had found Van Amburgh's circus more attractive than their classes, were actually suspended. It is not difficult to trace in this affair the origin of the song popular to this day, though its application has been long forgotten:
We are going to the Hamburg show
To see the elephant and the wild kangaroo;—
And we'll all stick together, through rain or stormy weather,
For we're going to see the whole show through.
This ended that epidemic and bolting henceforth became individual and not collective.
The burning of "mechanics" was also a popular rite, which in its earlier days celebrated the completion of the course in physics under Professor Williams. This time-honored ceremony took the form of a procession of solemn officials which escorted the "corpus," borne on an elaborate bier, to a place of judgment, where it was condemned most impressively and executed with elaborate rites. The "corpus" was well guarded,—on one occasion at least by eight juniors armed with bayonets,—from the sophomores, who were infuriated by the fact that the head of the intended victim, a skull furnished from medical sources, was crowned by a mortar-board, the sophomore class insignia. A formal trial followed, presided over by a Pontifex Maximus, in which a Judex, an Advocatus Pro, and an Advocatus Con participated, with the foregone result that the culprit was sentenced to be hanged, shot, and burned; a decree carried out on a gallows and bonfire previously prepared in spite of the sophomores' best efforts.
This annual fracas assumed a particularly lurid character in 1860 and the printed program was especially objectionable, a fault quite characteristic of those days. The night had been a wild one and when it became known that Dr. Tappan was to discuss the matter the next morning in Chapel, there were many misgivings. To every one's surprise, however, "there was no touch of reprimand in voice or word. In a sympathetic and familiar way, he began to talk about college songs." He told how he had once been greeted, upon opening his mail in Sweden, by a copy of the song "Where, Oh Where, is Doctor Tappan?" an evidence of student interest in his whereabouts which had cheered and inspired him mightily. Then, as merely incidental, and by way of contrast, he referred in mild tones to the obnoxious print of the night before,—"no moralizing but a salutary and effective talk, which was greeted by hearty cheers."
Thus far we have been considering the student life of a University which, judged by modern standards, was small and comparatively homogeneous. The student of those days knew every one in college. The professors were able to take a personal interest in all their pupils; even the President made it a point to know every one by name. All this has been changed within the last twenty-five years. Where in 1885 the student enrolment was only about 1,300, it increased to 2,200 in 1890 and to 2,800 in 1895, and this rate of growth has continued almost unbroken up to the present time. The result is that now there are nearly 9,000 students on the Campus during the college year, and with the extraordinary increase which has followed the late war, there is every prospect of this growth continuing.
In itself this is good evidence of the University's success as a center of education; but these increasing throngs of students bring many difficult problems, not the least of which is the necessity of finding an adequate supply of teachers, class rooms, and laboratories. Equally, life in the University becomes more complicated. The ideal simplicity of academic life, the intimate contact between fellow-students and between students and Faculties, is all too easily lost in the leveling tendencies which numbers make inevitable. This is the great danger of the large University—but a peril that has been recognized and has been met with at least some degree of success.
The student organizations, fraternities, and clubs, which have multiplied to so remarkable a degree, are perhaps the first and most important student reaction. Many if not most of these organizations have some connection with individual Faculty members, either through alumni on the Faculty or through honorary members, and this forms a basis at least for some extra class-room relationship. Sometimes, on occasion, a certain restraint on the part of the Faculty becomes inevitable, and the establishment of a Committee on Student Affairs, originally a committee on "non-athletic" relations, created some fifteen years ago, has resulted. This committee has accomplished much towards directing student activities into proper and worthwhile channels, though the ghost of the classic charge of unwelcome paternalism arises occasionally. The only answer necessary is the evident improvement in the general standards of all student organizations and the mere fact that they have, for the most part, continued to exist through several student generations; no little accomplishment in itself, when one remembers the almost automatic rise and fall of these societies in the early days.
If the University and particularly the Faculty has been concerned with these problems, incident upon the University's growth, so have the students themselves. They have seen the necessity for constructive effort and have established such agencies as the Student Council and the Inter-fraternity Council among the men, and the corresponding Judiciary Council and Pan-Hellenic Association among the women. Above all, the University has profited by the two great organizations which have been the most effective expression of student life and ideals,—the Michigan Union and the Women's League.
While the fundamental control of the student body rests, as it always has, with the Faculty, the students have almost always shown themselves ready and able to deal with questions of a certain type more promptly and effectively than the Faculty. This is evident by the good record of the Student Council since its organization in 1905. The members of this body are elected during the last half of their Junior or the beginning of their Senior year, and are usually the strongest men in their classes, though not necessarily the most popular or the best students. Most of the Council's work has had to do with student customs, the regulation of old, and the establishment of new, "traditions," a paradoxical procedure perhaps, but a source of much that is picturesque. Of these traditions, none has been more acceptable than the custom of requiring freshmen to wear the little gray caps, or knitted toques in the winter, with a button at the top, signifying by its color the College or School of the wearer. No more inspiring or beautiful ceremony occurs in university life than the annual "cap-night" celebration when the student body meets in "Sleepy Hollow" near the Observatory, about a great bonfire, to watch the burning of the caps, and the formal initiation of the freshmen into the responsibilities of college life. The dance of the freshmen about the fire and the showers of caps falling into the flames (they have been sent to the Belgians the last few years), combined with the vigor and idealism of the speeches which follow, all conspire to produce one of the most stirring and impressive events of the year.