A new undergraduate publication, "The Aristocrat," has quietly arrived in our midst; an unassuming and sedate four-page weekly, without illustrations, without any militant purpose, without any of the flavor of ordinary undergraduate life, without any likeness to the other college magazines. "The "Aristocrat" announces that "not with the eye of philosopher or critic, avoiding the quip and lesson of reformer, standing aside from bustle," it treads "the ways of antiquity," and it offers the modest hope that it may "calm the undergraduate mania for achievement with a leaven of whimsical humor."

The new weekly is full of talk of Ben Jonson and Coffee House, of the Cock Horse and The Merle, of the inaccessibility of professors and the limitations of the 47 Workshop; casual varied and good-humored talk that exhales a faint eighteenth century aroma and is mildly entertaining. Its anonymity is qualified by the cautious statement that "the names of the editors will be given to anyone in authority on written application." Whether this refers to the Postmaster General or the Dean's office is not clear, but neither of them need be disturbed by "The Aristocrat," to judge from its first number. While anonymous expressions of opinion are not likely to be taken very seriously, since anonymity means irresponsibility, "The Aristocrat" presumably cares little whether its opinions are taken seriously or not, if only it can sell enough copies to pay the printer's bill and can thus maintain its seat by the fireside and play the amiable dilettante.

Some of us may feel that the man who holds himself aloof from the life of the twentieth century does not acquire by so doing any special claim to the excellent old title of aristocrat, a title which in its finest sense is not incompatible with democracy and other twentieth century qualities; but this should not prevent us from wishing him success in his journalistic ventures. We trust that his sales will enable him to keep the bill-collector from the door for a considerable time to come. His magazine is another interesting sign of Harvard's endless diversity.