CLASSIFIED

Despite the fact that recent comment has been rather in the direction of difference than indifference, there still seems to be evidence of a prevalent feeling that Harvard is a fitting subject for the attentions of a mob psychologist. The undergraduate is put in the embarrassing position of feeling that he ought to explain, and knowing that any attempt on his part will only make matters worse.

But at last there has arisen a champion, from the ranks of the Freshman class it is true, yet who, through the maturity of years finds himself in "a position of detached observation." The class of 1933, and incidentally Harvard as a whole, is analyzed in the columns of the Atlantic Monthly to what must be the complete satisfaction of the general public; the sheep are separated from the goats, the drones from the workers, and charitably, the Aesthetes from all of these. No longer need the Harvard man feel reticent in the presence of strangers and resort to broad A's and purloined gems from Henry James. After this resolution of his adopted character into its component parts, the complex is dispelled, all inhibitions swept away, and he may feel free to indulge in untrammelled self-expression.

It may be a bit difficult at first for the undergraduate to place himself in one of the given categories, but with a little thought he will doubtless be able to squeeze in somewhere: and the resulting and novel sensation of normality will surely prove an ample reward.