To a Harvard man, and more especially to a Yale man who is conditioned to regard all townspeople as potential sparring partners, the town-gown relations in Princeton seem idyllic. Splotched only by last spring's run on Sugar, the record in Princeton is one of continual bliss.

The Nassau street merchants speak glowingly of the discrimination and good taste that students show in buying. Chief of Princeton's police, Edward Mahan, is benign when describing the minor peccadilloes that come to his attention. "They are good boys," he says, and points out that rarely is he forced to look up a Princeton for disorderly conduct.

Town Rooters

Despite an article in the Daily Princetonian, which claimed that high-school girls consider the college boys "fast, fresh and fairyish," the local teen agers admire Princetons. The boys emulate the collegiate dress, the girls are always eager to accept dates with the few Princeton men who will ask them, and the whole town roots for the Tiger teams.

The reasons for this amnity are many. First, the town is centered about the university, working in and for it, and sharing much of its cultural advantages. Also since Princeton is essentially a residential town--and a dull one at that--few students penetrate beyond the merchant's domain of Nassau Street. But the biggest reason for continued good relationships is a crew of seven men called proctors.

Cope in Mufti

Under the leadership of Mike Kopliner, 30 years a proctor, these men roam the campus in plain clothing, wary for intruders and ready to quell student disturbances. They are not policemen, but guardians of the peace--both town and gown. Avoiding violence whenever possible, the proctors have the students' respect, and they value it. They rely heavily on an ability to reason with incipient rioters. As Kopliner says," We talk to the students, kid them along, and keep them moving."

There is an agreement between the proctors and the Princeton police that, in case a riot starts, the police will divert traffic from the college area, prevent townspeople from joining the fun, and leave the actual quashing of the trouble to the proctors. When a Princeton does get in trouble with the town police, Chief Mahan generally turns the culprit over to the proctor, who holds him for the deanery to deal with.

In cases of theft on the campus, the proctors handle the investigations themselves, and have a remarkably good record. Although none of them have had police training, their long residence in town has given the proctors insight to the Princeton mentality in regards to trouble. Often, students, find a riot dispersed before it has gotten fairly started because the proctors, sensing that trouble was brewing, were on the spot before it could develop.

The students know that the proctors if not exactly on their side, are certainly more friendly than the police. They appreciate being bailed out of neighboring jails and rescued from the less sympathetic authorities of rival colleges.

Quiet Competence

Since the proctors do provide these services, and are trained to handle trouble with a minimum of shouting and shoving, they are fairly well liked. Their plain clothing does not attach the stigma of police to them; but at the same time, Kopliner insists that, while on duty, they always wear hats. Since few students wear them on the Princeton campus, "hats" has become both a nickname and trademark for the proctors. While they continue to provide a broad-shouldered, benevolent curb to party spirits, and while the care and comfort of students is the main industry of the Princeton community, there will be peace in Princeton.