That the University's statement of the need for experimentation and its selection of the Freshmen to enter next week occurred simultaneously yesterday was more than coincidence. It was one of the fullest expressions of Harvard's position since Pearl Harbor. It was concrete action to meet the demanding flux of the present period without sacrificing standards.

From the point of view of its administrators, Harvard has two frontiers to guard during the years of war. Above all stands the fulfillment of the pledge President Conant offered on December 8, that the University would put its strength and its soul into the effort of winning the war. Secondarily, but actively, Harvard seeks to protect and advance the borders of humanism and liberal education with whatever of its vast resources are not needed for the more immediate task. President Conant has flatly stated his faith that liberal arts will see a renaissance after the war is won. His requests for experiment and for the re-searching of educational and ethical standards are already being explored by his administrative officers.

From this may not come a new Harvard. There will probably be no brutal reaction against traditional lines; there will surely be no changes as bluntly radical as Princeton's one-course cram program. What seems assured is a remolding of lines, a reappraisal of ideas and accepted customs, perhaps even a constructive study of the very roots of higher educations.

For the entering Freshman these departures from tradition are more difficult and perplexing. His very appearance at this time will seem out of place to those who can not wholly accept the need for change. The physical features of his academic and his social life at College will be completely deformed. He will not find it the Harvard of his fathers. Yet he ought, if he is sincerely intent upon his months at Harvard, to find College his most provoking and maturing experience.