We have received a list of English books through the courtesy of the Harvard Cooperative Society, and nothing would give more pleasure than to buy all of them, or nearly all. But this must be a pleasure deferred, though if anything would make a journalist spend his money, it is the professional pride roused by the offer of "The Sensitive Plant." Books are always a temptation that must be resisted.

There is a foreword to this excellent list. It has a quotation from Emerson, "In the highest civilization the book is still the highest delight. He who has once known its satisfactions is provided with a resource against calamity." There is a quotation from Charles Kingsley that books open their hearts to us as brothers. The foreword is an honest and genial invitation to buy books. But there imbedded in its midst is that, wayward word "catalog." No U, no E. just og. On the outside of the list, the same atrocity occurs. No U, no E. just og.

To the analytic mind, the first enquiry will be, was it strategy that placed the gentle Emerson so near this spelling that it might bask in his calm effulgence? He was a little radical in some things and boldly said that if we had no Greek or Latin, then we should read the ancients with a trot, though he expressed it a little differently. But what he would have said about these quick-lunch spellings is not so certain.

Of course Harvard has great cares, great burdens, great responsibilities. Harvard is anxious and troubled about many things. Nor do we know how much the Harvard Cooperative Society, Inc., has to do with Harvard University. Nevertheless, there is a juxtaposition, a nearness to the rose that makes one look for the higher and finer things. And so when one beholds "Catalog," one wanly looks at Brutus Harvard and asks, "No E. no U, just og?" Boston Transcript.