THIS FREEDOM

The Class of 1930 is now an entity. What once existed as so many senior members of so many schools and academies in so many states and countries now lives as a vital part of Harvard University. And in that fact lies just as much hope for the University as there is hope for the individual who, this week is finding himself a resident of Cambridge.

Nor can the least intrinsic element in that hope be considered the freedom which, probably for the first time, surrounds, becomes implanted in the mind and spirit of the Class of 1930. On the seal of Harvard University there is revealed the word, "Veritas"--Truth. And no matter how impressed by his new freedom any member of the Class of 1930 may be, he must realize directly and adequately that the price of his freedom is no more, no less than what is indicated by the word so distinctly emblazoned upon the seal of his university.

It was discovered by the great man who gave forty years of his life in building Harvard University from the small, yet glorious fragments of an ancient heritage, that the only atmosphere in which Truth can flourish is that of freedom. Hence there is no undistinguished background to this benefice, received as their trust by the Class of 1930. Not the futile liberty of frenzied, nor the license of vulgar minds, but the freedom essential to the growth of decent, vital, creative minds--that is the gift with which Harvard University endows its students.

The Class of 1930 are now students of Harvard University. Until they prove themselves to the contrary they so remain. And there are certain definite duties of the student at Harvard, invested as he is with the freedom of Harvard. He must be a gentleman. A gentleman respects tradition. And the traditions of Harvard are quiet traditions. Nothing so bespeaks a vulgar and impoverished intellect as noise in word or action. He must be a thinking being. Nothing so departs from the norm of thinking as the quick adherence to futile and fanciful phenomena. With an open mind the member of the Class of 1930 who is to remain a real member of Harvard University must not alone work to understand what is given him from authority, he must weigh the value of authority. He must choose among authorities. In short, he must think. Yet always he must remember that the perverse, the peculiar is the prerogative of genius alone. And the numerical constituency of genius is small in this country.

Thus it is evident that freedom implies more than the destruction of obstacles in the way of Truth. It implies responsibility. Nor have Harvard men at any time foresworn responsibility. Some words have less illumined connotations than others. Responsibility to many must remain a gray word. Cambridge is a gray place. New England to the Puritan eye which first sighted the rocks of an uncongenial coastline from the small but purposive "Mayflower" was a gray land. The Puritan mind was a gray mind. But Harvard College owes its existence to that gray land, to that gray mind. For out of the dull, hard labor of founding a home, a church, a college upon the rugged, seldom cooperative soil of New England grew the heritage which is Harvard's respect for the responsibility of freedom. Perhaps that responsibility is gray to others. It cannot be gray to the Harvard student. The colors of accomplishment have long tinted the dulness with delight. This freedom--this responsible freedom is the distinguishing attribute of Harvard University. The Class of 1930 is now a vital functioning, accomplishing part of that university. It is for them to maintain their individual and united right to their heritage.