Probably the first General Court-Harvard tiff occurred in 1659 when the legislature stopped a proposed College printing of Thomas a Kempis' "Imitations of Christ," a book which the lawmakers considered "unsafe to be infused among the people." Forty years later the legislators ordered a religious test of Harvard faculty and students but the Governor, Lord Bellomont, vetoed the scheme.

In 1831, F. C. Gray of the President and Fellows heard enough "alarming talk" at the State House to write Governor Levi Lincoln that, "The state, it is said, founded the College, and therefore has a right of visitation over it. But then who is the state? Surely not every person in it . . ."

Strengthened State Control

Nineteen years later the General Court charged that Harvard was "failing to answer the just expectations of the people of the state" and proceeded to design legislation which would put the college more closely under state control. This move caused enough consternation in Cambridge to induce the President and Fellows to send the legislature a lengthy "Memorial concerning the recent history and the Constitutional Rights and Privileges of Harvard College" in which they claimed "bestowing property . . . is to make and keep it private property." In 1865, ex-officio members of the Board of Overseers from the state government were abolished and the University, also flexing its muscles in other directions, took a long stride toward independence.

One of the most flavorsome alterations between the University and somebody in the State House occurred June 1883, when the Board of Overseers voted 15 to 12 not to grant Governor Benjamin Butler an honorary degree because his character was not consistent with the motto "Verities." In so doing, the Board of Overseers had overruled the recommendations of President Eliot and the Corporation, who foresaw the unpleasant political implications of breaking the custom of giving the governor an honorary.

Butler told the press that he thanked the Overseers for doing him a great personal and political favor but warned the University that such action risked stirring the legislative ire against Harvard. "The legislature can do with that institution what it wants," he said, "just as it can do with all others belonging to Massachusetts."

I 1925, two representatives, Arthur F. Blanchard 04 and Van Ness H. Bates '19 introduced a bill for the thorough investigation of Harvard which they claimed was wholly under the thumb of big business interests. The bill died a quick death in committee.

But for sheer size, press publicity, and raucousness no feud with the State House was ever fought quite like the controversy over the Teacher's Oath Bill in 1935. The sides were all the state's schools and colleges versus several lawmakers. During hearings on the Teacher's Oath issue in the summer of that year a letter was introduced by Elizabeth Dilling, the ace communist hunter of her day, which referred to President Conant as a gent "partial to Russians, highly tolerant of Communists, but with their enemies the German Nazis, is harsh and refuses them opportunity to speak at Harvard." Conant and a large number of other faculty members appeared personally at the Teacher's Oath hearing to object to what they considered a serious abrogation of their freedom.

The most militant crusader against the Teacher's Oath in the state was Kirtley Mather. Not until December 12, 1935, several months after the Teacher's Oath Bill had passed did he sign a pledge and then he did so only at the request of President Conant. Had Mather not signed and still remained on the Harvard faculty, the University would have been involved in considerable litigation with the state. Paul A. Dever, who was then attorney-general, had ruled that any educational institution which didn't comply 100 percent with the oath law would have its charter revoked. (Several Law School professors pointed out at the time that Dever in his position as attorney-general was legally unable to issue such a judicial ruling.)

Hearings on the Teachers Oath Law thus far had been at all times lively, to say the least. But it was the hearings for repeal which began in March, 1936 that were really characterized by the circus tempo associated with the Teacher's Oath controversy. The Boston Herald reported they "were probably the most noisy and colorful in State House history." Gaetano Salvemini, then Lauro de Bosis Lecturer on the History of Italian Civilization, could scarcely be heard at a session March 18 because of the uproar, part of which was in his support and most own which was against him because he was not as yet an American citizen.

A long remembered incident from the hearings was the fierce, disrespectful cross examination of President Conant by a young representative, Frederick T. McDermott. When McDermott asked Conant pointed questions about the possible presence of communists in the Harvard faculty and Conant qualified his answers, McDermott angrily shouted, "Answer yes or no!"

The principle object of McDermott's attack was J. Raymond Walsh, an instructor in Economics who had been active in labor relations work. This activity at the time made him suspect of communist leanings. A bill for repeal passed the General Court but was vetoed by Governor Hurley on the grounds that the era was not one for "withdrawing the authority of the state."

Four successive attempts at repeal were made by educators and sympathetic citizens in the four successive years, but all failed. With the coming of war the issue became submerged.

The next instance which sent college administrators running to the State House to protest a bill sponsored in 1947 by Republican Representatives Peter Lobel of Boston and Peter J. Jordan of Revere to take away the tax exemption of any college whose out of state enrollment should exceed 35 percent.

Vice-President Reynolds, testifying at the time before the Education Committee, told it that the "bill, if in effect, would go far to destroy a major industry in Massachusetts . . . it would gravely damage the prestige of the Commonwealth as an educational center."

Succeeding legislative proposals with which University officials became concerned include: the Barnes Bill, the Fair Education Practices Bill (the University opposed it because of the strain it might put on its office force), the Sullivan Bill, and several measures filed this year which deal with control of communist infiltration in teaching