Although this is only the second day of Gilbert Keith Chesterton's visit to our country, he is already, to use the English expression, "frightfully bored" by the questions which have so far been asked him. The commonest and almost the only ideas which the American reporters want to hear about seem to be "Prohibition" and the "Irish Question." Consequently, when interviewed by the representative of the Harvard CRIMSON, Chesterton immediately began by asserting his views on these subjects.

"The very first thing I had to do on entering this country of yours was to sign a paper to the effect that I did not have any plans of upsetting the United States government," were his first words. "This prevents me right away from giving any of my really personal views on the subject of 'prohibition'. I don't feel a bit inclined to criticise your country anyhow. It isn't done, you know. I am a visitor, a guest. But I certainly can say that I would object to my own state dictating my diet. I really think it is rather a bad thing for a policeman to tell anyone what dinner he should have. Then, for the same reason, I do not want to talk about the 'Irish Question', because I would be criticising my own country, you see."

When asked about his views on education, he replied:

"I suppose it would be rather an exaggeration to say that education is the curse of the modern world. I will quality that by saying that education is a curse as inflicted on the modern world. I am always reminded of and quote the words of my friend, the poet William Yates, who has spoken of the 'vast wave of ignorance that spreads from our schools.' Personally, I believe that all good culture descends from father to son. Modern education breaks into this splendid chain by starting new and unnecessary ideas. The parent on the other hand, knows nothing bad. Of course I realize that most persons think of the parent as some sort of a chimpanzee incapable of teaching anything; I simply disagree with those persons, that is all."

"Could you give us a comparison between the English Universities and Harvard?" was the next question.

"I am sure I don't know much about Harvard yet," was the answer, "but if its system is as complicated as Oxford, I am certainly glad I don't. Oxford and Cambridge are so entirely different, any way, from most sorts of universities. They are institutions for making a Jolly aristocracy instead of a priggish one. Harvard, I understand, aims to make the students work, while the atmosphere of Oxford is merely to have a nice time and learning is very little forced on the men who go there. This Oxford idea, you know is a great deal better than having a lot of priggish science thrust on one. But after all, Oxford isn't a university; it is simply the playground for the English gentry."

The humorist critic was reminded that he had the honor of being in the "home town' of Amy Lowell, the vers libre exponent.

"Ah yes, rather I believe I am acquainted with her terrible grammar. As a matter of fact, personally, I am very much against vers libnre and all that sort of thing. Of course I admit Walt Whitman was a very great man; but I insist that metre is not an unnatural thing, but an extremely natural thing, like the sing-song of a child, you know, kicking his heels against a wall.

Chesterton is making his first lectures in Boston on his tour of the United States. He is probably one of the greatest minds in England today, and whatever paradoxical thing he has to say will be well worth hearing. The subjects he has chosen to talk about are decidedly characteristic of the heralded "Prince of Paradox." They are: "The Perils of Health." "Should We Illiminate the Inevitable," and "The Ignorance of the Educated." He is speaking at Jordan Hall, Boston, on the evenings of January 12, 14 and 15.