For fathers and grandfathers and uncles, the receiving of a degree by an undergraduate is an excuse for at least quiet pride. For mothers and grandmothers, it is close to a traumatic event. But for the immediate objects of all this adulation, it is something else. It is an ending of sorts, because the problems of eating and sleeping will no longer be minimized by college existence. It is a beginning of sorts, because many of us have had just about enough studying, and will be content to try working for a change. For all seniors it is a chance to draw a rough balance sheet.

This largest of Harvard classes will carry away some strangely assorted memories of the College. The chow (or book) line became for many an ogre so clear-cut that they can no longer stand in line for anything. Losing to Yale grew to be another unhappy habit. These are not, of course, the sort of memories one should carry away--one should remember the thud of shoe against pigskin, or the setting sun casting its last golden rays across the Charles. But they are the peculiar matters that stick in the front of the mind.

More important for some will be items filed further back. It has been the good fortune of this generation of Harvard men to be exposed to ideas rather than to "great" teachers. There have been in the classrooms few men whose personalities will remain to gloss over either the wise or the stupid things they said. But there have been ideas that will last, and that will have continued relevance.

Today's Seniors will, for example, have reached some conclusions about the present struggle against Communism. The important thing here is that these conclusions have been sought after and found by each man, and not spoon-fed by any University policy. For if there is one idea that the Class of 1950 can be said to hold unanimously, it is the firm opinion that no one shall dictate to it a line of thought. This in itself, of course, should make clear what conclusions are likely on the subject of Communism. A senior at Yale did his classmates a grave injustice the other day by suggesting that they could not make up their own minds on this matter and should, therefore, be guided by their teachers. Nobody hereabouts would have the gall to suggest that to this class.

So this biggest, gram blindest class has decided that it will make up its own mind about certain issues of some importance. It has had these issues dropped in its lap by the College, and has heard evidence; it has made up its mind on some issues now, and will decide others in the future. Harvard has provided techniques for thinking and deciding. The questions on which decisions are to be made have properly been left to the individual's selection.

That is the balance sheet; its sum so far is written in black ink. Further transactions, commencing tomorrow morning, are the concern of some 1140 separate holders of the A.B. degree.