THE wheel has turned, and the Western papers rejoice in a new subject. Galileo is now undergoing examination by the Era and Chronicle; the Index will probably lend a helping hand after it has settled a few more disputed points regarding Napoleon, and then the other papers will drop into line. The Chronicle is getting modest, referring to itself only sixteen times in the last number, instead of over thirty, as in a previous one.

FOR some weeks the Era has been laboring to bring the total depravity reached in the Senior Class elections at Harvard within the comprehension of its readers, and has at last succeeded, speaking of the elections as "a contest to which the worst ward elections in New York bear no comparison." Then follows the statement: "A committee of the Faculty has been appointed to investigate the affair, and in case any instances of bribery or trading of votes are detected, the offenders will probably be summarily dealt with."

IF the Record would make a few more paragraphs in its articles, one would be tempted to read them; but three columns in a single paragraph is more than one cares to undertake. When treating of the oratorical contest under the title of "A Literary Circus," it is certainly not witty, as the following extract will show: "The auburn-whiskered Higginson must have made an irreproachable ring-master. As for lugubrious clowns, representatives of the Darwinian theory and animals which sometimes prefer to "locomote" backward, who can doubt that they put in a large, if not an appreciated representation?"

The Yale Lit is lighter this month than usual, but it is no less readable on that account. In the criticism of Deirdre, the author prefers, with Philip Gilbert Hammerton, to praise, than with the Nation to condemn. One of the best things in the Lit is the following courteous explanation: "We have an explanation for the Cornell Era, that referred to us rather discourteously in a late issue. The color of our cover was chosen for us, dear Era, O, ever so long ago, long before we came here; long before it was suggested to the great Mr. Cornell to found a family monument at Ithaca; long before Cornell became as great as it is to-day. The 'bandy-legged individual' on the cover represents the venerable Governor Yale, an elderly gentleman, a royal governor that befriended Yale College when the noble red-man built his camp-fire on the very spot where Cornell's great training-school for mechanics stands to-day.