"And solid learning never falls Without the verge of college walls."

There may have been a time when four years spent in college could be considered an existence apart from the-main currents of life in America. There may have been--but such is certainly not the case in the Year of Our Lord 1947. The minute detail with which the problems and conditions confronting the nation are reflected within the 'cloistered walls" of Harvard belies whatever portion remains of the belief that higher education is conducted, within an ivory tower.

Barring the unexpected, both the nation and its colleges look forward to a "boom" year. National income hovers around the $200,000,000,000 a year mark, and college enrollment is at its peak. Both federal and college administrators are concerned with the problem of providing living space to satisfy the increased demand. The impact of high prices is felt as severely by the colleges as by any other group in the national structure. In Lehman Hall, Aldrich Durant and his assistant wizards grapple with the same problem that confronts the conscientious manufacturer--how to maintain the quality of the product without raising the cost to the consumer. And, like thrifty housewives, the dining hall stewards wonder if they can keep the cost of meals within their present budget. Students also, particularly veterans with a static income, are experimenting with the manipulation of a dollar which every day means less and less in terms of purchasable commodities.

Ideological conflict, manifest in divergent opinions concerning the proper attitude toward, Russia and in the debate between proponents of "planned prosperity" and advocates of "individual initiative," will be sharply outlined at Harvard this fall--especially during the appearance of Henry Wallace.

At a less profound level, Harvard will reflect the nationwide spurt of interest in social and sporting activities. Publications, literary and otherwise, should enjoy a banner year. The football team appears headed for one of its most successful seasons in several years, and the announcement of a new seating plan by the H.A.A. should increase the enjoyment of the spectators.

It would be presumptuous to compare in magnitude the problems facing Harvard with those confronting the nation. But their difference is of degree rather than of kind. At neither level is the process of reconversion complete. Neither has reached a stable postwar pattern, And both require the same type of far-sighted, constructive thinking to assure that the new version will be better than the old.