One of the proposals made at Harvard's conference of scholars was for a Court of Wisdom, which would interpret universal truth for mankind in its turbulent hour. The time has come, the scholars said, for the learned of the world to pool their knowledge and preserve the eternal verities. Such a proposal is stimulating, particularly now, when everyone is sifting every eternal verity to see whether it is a Republican eternal verity or a Democratic eternal verity. We would like to see such a court established, but we are familiar enough with the temper of mankind not to place too much confidence in it. The world already has access to the collected wisdom of its seers. But prefers to live by its inherited folly. This government, for example, has unlimited opportunity to examine into the eternal treacheries of war; yet it has dispatched four battleships to the European waterfront, so that any stray shells might have something solid to bring up against.

To us the congress of scholars at Harvard has been an inspiring event. We like to feel the renewed assurance that the ancient regard for knowledge is perpetuated in modern disciples, and we like to believe that we ourself are (as Professor Cartan so nobly phrased it) "passionately attached to the principle of free inquiry." This is the source of our own patriotism, for, with all its beguiling idiocies, America is still freely inquiring. (We get a questionnaire in every mail.) It is certain that in this country, more than in any other, the establishment of a court of wisdom would be a merry of admissions--who is a wise man, who a dolt. And we're fairly certain that the court wouldn't be many weeks old before it had a sponsor who would buy the broadcasting privilege, and we would have universal truth coming to us through the courtesy of Universal Baking Powder. The New Yorker,